730 days.

I'm sitting at my desk today hoping I have received every single ounce of refining that the last two years and a gracious God have offered me. Every moment with every lesson that came with every hardship and every day that I wanted to pull the covers over my head and hide but didn't--I hope that none of them were wasted.

As I stood by my dying mother's bedside two years ago today, I remember thinking:
"If you are everything you say you are, you better do some good out of this. Because THIS is not good."

I was begging God to prove that He was the faithful, loving, enduring, trustworthy God I had always said He was. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't questioned everything that I have believed in the past two years. I'd also be lying if I said there are no questions that remain unanswered. The thing that I've learned in the past 730 days is this:

I serve a God who doesn't mind me asking them.


I have always thought it presumptuous to assume that God doesn't like our questions and doesn't deal with us in our doubt. After all, we are told to be like little children-for such is the Kingdom of Heaven.


....Oh, to be like the little hearts who ask a million questions every day. "Why is the sky blue? Why is the grass green? Why are you singing so loud in the car, Aunt Wah?"

(ok, maybe I am the only one having to field that last question.)

We are told in Hebrews that we don't have a Great High Priest who can't sympathize with our weaknesses. I have demonstrated that one of my own weaknesses is the fact that I like to understand exactly why things happen the way I do. I believe with all my heart that God understands why I ask the questions. He may choose not to answer them in the way that I expect, but that my doubt is faith seeking some understanding.

It's frustrating when people act as if they have a corner on the mind of God, whether it be in approaching the grief-stricken such as:
"God needed another angel."
"He must've had work for her to do up there."
and my personal favorite
"She's one of those stars shining back at us at night."

Okay, your Lion King meets angelic being meets works in Heaven theology might be a little off.

or about life in general:

"Here's how the end of time is going to play out, step-by-step."
"We know when Jesus is coming back."
"God didn't heal you because you didn't have enough faith."

It take some serious, errr, intestinal fortitude, to assume the mind of God. Now I don't know about you, but I am not really interested in serving a God that I completely and fully understand with my finite mind.


But we can't be angry with humanity for searching for the answers to the questions out of a mostly pure desire to understand. The reason that people say things like that is because their faith is seeking understanding--but they are looking for understanding in places other than in God's Word.

Another thing that I've learned is that God doesn't need me to explain why He allows certain things to happen. He doesn't need my commentary to make people still love Him even in the midst of suffering.

What He needs from me is to be His PRESENCE around people in the face of it. What He desires is for me to love those who are suffering, not get them to avoid blaming God for it. It's not my responsibility to explain God--it's my honor to let them know that they can ask Him directly about it. It's also my honor to help them feel His love so that when they ask, "Where is God in the midst of this?"


Their answer will look like mine:
God was in the room 730 days ago when I kissed my mama goodbye for the last time.
How do I know?
His people were there.


730 days ago I began a journey of asking the God of the Universe if He really is who He says He is. For the first time in my life I found myself in the Dark Night of the Soul. The crossroads of faith. 730 days ago I began the journey of realizing that He is everything He says He is and that there is coming a day when, as Steven Curtis Chapman says:

But in my mind’s eye
I can see a place
Where Your glory fills every empty space
All the cancer's gone
Every mouth is fed
and there’s no one left in the orphans’ bed
Every lonely heart finds their one true love
And there’s no more goodbye
And no more not enough
And there’s no more enemy
no more

It's not enough to just believe in that day, though. it's our joy and responsibility to see that the Kingdom comes here and now. It's our job to point people in the direction of the Kingdom to come by seeing it enacted now.


I'm glad to know a God who is willing to go to great lengths to prove His love for us. The last 730 days have been some of the hardest of my life so far, but His promise is true. He is who He says He is, and I am thankful I have had the chance to discover it firsthand.

Life and Death.

I messed up.

I have apologized. I have cried. I've felt guilty. I've called myself stupid and begged God for His grace. He forgave, but I can't forget.
Neither can my precious friend that I hurt in the process.


I don't know what came over me. A know-it-all attitude for sure. A prideful heart. And out of the overflow of that heart, my mouth spoke with a total lack of love. You know those little heliocopter leaves we are accustomed to seeing in early fall? The ones that show up everywhere, including the door frame of my apartment.

Trying to take my words back is like trying to collect all of those heliocopters. I just can't do it. How I wish I could, and it pains me to think that the wounds my words (although unintentionally made) may forever leave scars on her heart.


I cannot pretend He didn't warn me about it:


The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit. proverbs 18:21



I am thankful for grace but hate having that feeling that I have disappointed Him, especially when God has given me immeasurably, abundantly more than I deserve. How did I let such discouragement come out of my mouth?


Today I am learning from my mistake. I will speak life, not death. I will use the power of the tongue to speak of the goodness of God and to encourage His people. I can't collect those little heliocopters, but I can keep from ever releasing them again.


If you have regrets like I do, please remember that we serve the God who said He can show off in the middle of our failings. How desperately I want Him to do that!


And to pick the arrows out of my friend's heart so that we might share a stronger bond than ever before.




May this post be proof positive that you'll never waste a prayer on me.

Have you ever wished you could take back your words?

And We're Back...

...after a weeklong blogger's block and bad time managment, I am now taking questions. I'm sorry for my lack of blog interaction this week. I have neglected you in order to plan this wedding in 152 days (but who's counting, right)! I have a book to tell you about later this week and I am trying to do better!

Here's a little That Girl action to tide you over...


Yesterday I was taking Communion at a church service and we were communing by the intinction method. That's where you take a piece of bread, dip it in the juice, and then eat it. So I got my piece of bread, went to dip it in the juice cup....


and I dropped it. Right in the cup.


I blame it on my acrylic fingernails. I am not used to not having nails and they got in the way. Good thing my friend was administering communion! I quickly, at her urging, tore off another piece of bread and dipped it. As we were walking away, my friend said, "Well now you have your That Girl's Communion Experience story!"

It really did make me think about some things involving the Lord's Supper. I was reminded that the table of the Lord is the only level playing field in this life, and that I serve a God who not only serves screwups and eats with sinners. He has never had a "no shoes, no shirt, no bad attitude, no service" policy at His table and I am so thankful. Aren't you?


My friend Darrell preached a killer message about philoxenia, which in the Greek means "love of stranger." He talked about how easy it was to love those we know, but how hard it is to welcome those we don't know. He told a story to prove his main point: "If she ain't welcome, ain't nobody welcome."

I thought about that as I stood to praise God after being welcomed at the Table even with all my failures, shortcomings, and quirks.

And if That Girl ain't welcome, ain't nobody welcome.

Thank you Jesus.

Arm-In-Arm.

Here's toddler E holding onto her Papaw's arm.





You can see his happiness in the picture.




She wants to be close to him. She's not trying to butter him up for a gumball on the way out of Denny's or a trip to Chuck E. Cheese for dinner. She is holding onto him because she doesn't just LOVE him, she LIKES him.


When was the last time we spent time with Jesus just for the sheer joy of being close with Him? I know that the Bible teaches us to ask for things, but sometimes the majority of my time with God is filled up by me asking, asking, asking. I rarely just say something like: "I love you so much, Jesus!" or "I just want to know you more, Lord!"


When was the last time we opened our Bibles because we longed for the nearness of Him? Our sense of duty does not impress or bless Him.


We can go through life feeling the weight of the world on our shoulders, or we can link arms with Jesus and have Him carry the load and more importantly, share the journey with us. He's waiting, offering His arm and eagerly anticipating for us to saddle on up beside him and link arms.

What do you want to tell Jesus today in response to this?

Disappointment

It's all about how we handle it, peeps.


Like me. I try to handle inWith a mint chocolate brownie ice cream sandwich on my desk with grace and dignity.


Or like Greg Norman the golfer who once said,

"I'm disappointed, but I'm not going to run around like Dennis Rodman and head-butt somebody."

In light of disappointment: make ice-cream sandwiches, not war.

Weakness.

Insecurities.




We all have them.


Some of us

hide them
flaunt them
conceal them
reveal them to large groups of friends and strangers blog about them
try anything to overcome them
overcompensate for them
get angry about them



Very few people actually take delight in them. In fact, I know only one person who gave advice about that, or at least shared his story about what his weaknesses taught him. It might be a little familiar to you.

...so I wouldn't get a big head, I was given the gift of a handicap to keep me in constant touch with my limitations. Satan's angel did his best to get me down; what he in fact did was push me to my knees. No danger then of walking around high and mighty! At first I didn't think of it as a gift, and begged God to remove it. Three times I did that, and then he told me, "My grace is enough; it's all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness."
Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ's strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become. (2 Cor. 12:7B-10, The Message)




Often my insecurities give me lots of thoughts and emotions, and not one of those thoughts or emotions have ever, EVER been relief!

A soldier is never relieved to see a chink in the armor.
A Neiman-Marcus shopper is never relieved to see a thread loose on that sale garment she got so excited about.
A model is never relieved to see a blemish on her face the day before her cover shoot (Have you ever seen ANTM? ack.).

You get the idea.

Can I be honest? heh heh. Like you could stop me.

My insecurities have been getting the best of me. Not Jesus. Not my loved ones. Not my job. Not my ministry.

Every single one of the aforementioned have lost out because of my many negative thoughts about myself, my self-doubt, and my desire to win the approval of others, only to fall miserably short. These are branches from the tree of lies Satan daily tries to prune (there is much MANURE for fertilization in these lies)....the lies that I hear so often I begin to believe. Instead of working on producing the fruit of the Spirit, these lies soak up all the resources I have, making me demand affirmation at every corner and sometimes wishing I could fade into the back row of life, so to speak.

It is uncomfortable, demanding, and awkward.

Relieved, I am not. Sick and tired is what I am.
and yet...
Paul tells me to consider these setbacks-weaknesses that come in the form of insecurity-as a means of avoiding pride, bringing about more faithful and constant communication with God and reliance on Him, making me more aware of my need for Christ, and learning to focus on how these limitations-these things that cause all of my many and varied insecurities-actually further the Kingdom when I relinquish them to Jesus!

Strong's tells me that the word translated as weakness in this passage can mean the following:

1) want of strength, weakness, infirmity
1a) of the body
1a1) its native weakness and frailty
1a2) feebleness of health or sickness
1b) of the soul
1b1) want of strength and capacity requisite
1b1a) to understand a thing
1b1b) to do things great and glorious
1b1c) to restrain corrupt desires
1b1d) to bear trials and troubles


I am in want of the strength and the capacity it takes to understand things, to do great and glorious things on my own, to restrain corrupt desires, and to bear hardship. I am frail, and my feeble attempts to offer righteousness are filthy rags to a Holy God.

What a beautiful thing to think that in my want, Jesus meets my needs. In my lack, He becomes greater and I become less.

That chink in the armor makes the soldier more aware-thus saving his life
The tiny thread pull is the very reason she got such a good deal, and no one else really notices it
The model is considered more "real" and down-to-earth because of her blemish and the magazine sells more copies (okay so maybe that one is far-fetched but just go with the illustration here people!)



When was the last time I thanked God for all of the ways He has used my weaknesses to bless me in the form of knowing Him more?


When was the last time I realized that without said insecurities, I might never have realized my need for Him?

When God made the sun stand still in the book of Joshua, the people knew it was not Joshua that made it happen. They recognized his limitations as a man. He was a man of God, but he was still a man.

I want people to know my limitations so God's glory can be recognized and applauded.I'm praying that Jesus will use my weaknesses and my insecurities as a megaphone declaring God's glory to all of those around me.

Lysa Terkeurst says to invite God into our lack. I think she's onto something.

Won't you join me in that prayer?

Troubled.

I had a meltdown last Saturday.

I still have bad days-they seem to just get fewer and farther between-but they still have the intensity they did when Mom died.


My dad, aunts, and I went out with Toots to celebrate her 83rd birthday. We were in the restaurant laughing at Toots and her penchant for pink sweetener all over everything on her plate to 'doctor it up' and my aunts innocently began making small talk-asking me about my life and such. I began to share about how things were going well, but....

This bit of perhaps unwarranted vulnerability-sometimes June comes bustin' out all over, and by June I mean That Girl- surprised everyone. They tried to make me feel better that things take time and sometimes we're living on dreams and spaghetti-Os wondering where our lives are gonna go, as Martina McB says. Bless their hearts, they didn't know what to do with That Girl who suddenly turned on the waterworks and began to cry. I wasn't crying about my life. It really is lovely. I am thankful for my many blessings.

Honestly, I was weeping because I had looked at the occupants of my table and realized that there was a seat with no occupant. In that moment I felt so defeated and sorrow filled my heart as I realized for the millionth time that she would never be at a special family event again. There will be a hole at K's 7th birthday party this weekend. No one to call me early in the morning and tell me she was thankful for her unexpected pregnancy @36 when I turn 24 next month. No one to light the unity candle someday or to talk me through my first baby's fever. No one to tell me that she's still my biggest fan when I mess up, cry with me when my feelings are hurt or to tell me ever so gently that the skirt makes my hips look big and wouldn't this be a better choice for my body shape?!

No more of those beautiful things.


My heart was troubled.

I think as believers we have a responsibility to ask why. Jesus instructs us to be like children, and all the children I know ask 3 billion questions, sometimes again and again if they forget the answer of why the sky is blue or the grass is green.


After my tiny yet embarrassing scene crying in front of my family, where I wandered around looking like Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer because of my slightly ugly cry trying to find the bathroom, somehow I attracted the stare of every.single.patron in the whole joint who were trying to figure out who is That Girl anyway and why did she just open up the door to the supply closet?

( Can't I even have a moment of sadness gracefully here?! )


Then Dad decided to drive by the cemetery. Here comes Waterworld again.


I got out of the car and shut the door. Through my tears I stood and looked at the butterfly on her stone. I couldn't really see it that well through all the tears collected in my eyes. I looked at her birth and death dates and got mad all over again.

why?


this is really no good, in case You haven't noticed, I told Him.



Then I do what I always do, mad or not but always through teary eyes, went to the other side of the grave.

I made myself read it.

I ran my fingers along the words and tried to get the dust off off the grave, so cool to my touch in the heat of the day.



My peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:27



Then it came. Not the answer I wanted, but the one I needed.

Don't be troubled.

It sounds really simple, and yet when my eyes focused in on the word troubled, I could hear my Savior's voice. Not audibly of course, but that still small voice.

In this world you will have trouble. The tricky part is not to let it trouble you.

I may have Trouble. But Trouble doesn't have me.


After typing the word trouble so many times I want to also tell you that the word looks weird to me now. My apologies.


My heart has seen difficulty. My life has been changed. The fact that I belong to Jesus has not changed, and although tragedy and heartache have come knocking on my door and I have repeatedly asked why, he has told me that sometimes the answer is not as important as the faith it takes to ask the question. I may ask why, but I won't let the lack of a full blueprint trouble my heart. I won't be troubled by the lack of answers. Instead, I will let that perfect peace rest deep in my heart and soul--the peace that even as I ask the same questions again and again, I may not get every answer just this second but I will be safe and he will provide for me, like a parent cares for a child. The peace that he loves me and that he knows how much of the answer I can handle right now, and how much needs to be saved for later.
I won't be troubled come Saturday. I'll see my mom's smile on K's face when she opens her brand new Princess Protection Program DVD (the gift that keeps on giving-shhh) and I'll know that Mom is no longer troubled by things like cancer, or chemo, or bills to pay, or even sin. He will grant me the peace of HOPE in redemption and resurrection.

I leave you with a Puritan prayer that has really encouraged me.

O God, most high, most glorious, the thought of Thine infinite serenity cheers
me, for I am toiling and moiling, troubled and distressed, but Thou art for ever
at perfect peace. Thy designs cause thee no fear or care of unfulfilment, they
stand fast as the eternal hills. Thy power knows no bond, Thy goodness no stint.
Thou bringest order out of confusion, and my defeats are Thy victories: The Lord
God omnipotent reigneth.
I come to Thee as a sinner with cares and sorrows, to leave every concern entirely to Thee, every sin calling for Christ's precious blood; revive deep spirituality in my heart; let me live near to the great Shepherd, hear His voice, know its tones, follow its calls. Keep me from deception by causing me to abide in the truth, from harm by helping me to walk in the power of the Spirit. Give me intenser faith in the eternal verities, burning into me by experience the things I know; Let me never be ashamed of the truth of the gospel, that I may bear its reproach, vindicate it, see Jesus as
its essence, know in it the power of the Spirit.
Lord, help me, for I am often lukewarm and chill; unbelief mars my confidence, sin makes me forget Thee. Let the weeds that grow in my soul be cut at their roots; grant me to know that I truly live only when I live to Thee, that all else is trifling. Thy presence alone can make me holy, devout, strong and happy. Abide in me, gracious God.

I've been praying for you today. May the peace of Christ be with you now and forever.

Chopsticks.

The first time I tried sushi, I was hooked. For all of you that are cringing right now, don't knock it 'til you try it.



(please. for the love of california rolls.)



Anyway, I was at this fab restaurant in Greenville, SC-I can't remember the name of it and I'm too lazy to facebook my friends and see-but it was a real good day in the history of That Girl. However, that magic moment meant that it was finally do-or-die time when it came to the utensils of choice for sushi: the dreaded chopsticks.



I have been trying to use those dagnabbed pieces of wood since I was a little kid. There I was, in all my eggroll wonton glory, with the two sticks, banging them together like I was preparing to play the timpani or something. It did not make sweet dinner music to my parents, who were either secretly afraid I would let go and somebody's eye would get shot out a la Ralphie or afraid that a stray lo mein noodle would fly across the room, hitting another poor hapless patron in the face.



As you all can probably guess, I was not the most coordinated kid on Route 4. Whatever, my dream was to master the chopstick usage.



I went to eat sushi in Greenville and was forced into the deep end of the chopstick pool without my floaties. ACK. I didn't know which move to make but trusted my sushi companions to show me the tempura way. I studied every move they made, and followed it to a tee. I tried not to act like I had never actually used the chopsticks correctly, but since I was always a step behind, and I never like to wait around when it comes to eating,

they must have known.





One strange and glorious move I picked up quickly was the art of rubbing the two chopsticks together in the middle. I didn't ask why because I didn't want to be exposed, so I just kept my mouth shut about it and did as they did.



When in Rome...or Greenville...



Ever since then I have been a chopstick fan. I won't lie, I feel cool that I am finally coordinated enough to use two chopsticks in harmony to bring Asian-infused delightfulness to my mouth. Just don't ask me to chew gum at the same time.



After church service last Sunday, I went out with a few members of our community for some lunch. My friend Rita asked me why I rubbed my two chopsticks together.





For a minute, I was "got."



I was so caught off-guard that I don't even remember how I answered her question. All I know is that Seth swooped in to save the day with a good answer-at least it sounded good to me-regarding splinters. I sat there, dumbfounded. I had this habit and didn't even understand why I repeated it.





How often do our relationships with God mirror the chopstick incident? We continue to do certain things, maybe even with a complete lack of understanding when it comes to why. We spend a lot of our days holding fast to things when Jesus just wants to be the One to which we cling. Phrases like, "This is the way we have always done it" and "That's just tradition" are sometimes uttered, and not just by the Church as a whole. In our journeys with Jesus, how many times do we think "If I word my prayer this way, then I will get the results I desire?"



Our chopsticks grate together and we don't know why.



I love tradition. In fact, I grew up in a very liturgical worship environment. I value hymns and liturgy and order and I find great beauty in that. However, if I just made a habit out of it, it would lose meaning. Same thing would happen if I just lifted my hands during a rockin' worship song because that's what I am supposed to do.



Jesus talked about this to his disciples once. In Mark 9, Jesus casts out a demon from a little boy, and the disciples approach Him: they also tried to cast it out to no avail.



I have to tell you, I probably would have been right there with them. The Palestinian Wrestling Team, as my friend Matt calls them. The Sons of Thunder and The Rock. Clueless as all getout, much like me in my chopstick stupor. They had seen Jesus pray over people quite a few times, and they had probably studied His every move and every word. When it didn't work, they came to him sheepishly behind closed doors to see what part of the equation they had missed.



Too often we have more faith in the way things are done than in the One who does them. So we don't understand, and our faces crinkle when we are questioned. Sometimes we even grow defensive. When we can't explain it, maybe it's time to reevaluate.



After all, if there is a valid reason to rub my chopsticks together profusely, I will be That Girl at Table #9 at the Crazy Buffet appearing to make fire over my bowl of wasabi and soy. If there isn't, then maybe it's time to quit trying to earn my Boy Scout Wilderness badge at Lin's Garden. In all seriousness, consider the traditions and actions you take in your relationship with Christ. When we trade in our ways of doing things for His way, and join with Him on whatever He's already doing, we will see His glory fall in ways we cannot even imagine. Or we can keep rubbing our chopsticks together and get mad when we begs the question "Why?"





Enjoy doing things when you KNOW they are the heart of Christ. But don't miss a blessing because you are stuck in a rut, because all along, Jesus has been whispering to us: Cling to Me tighter than you cling to your own ideas and traditions.





Remind me of that if you see me ordering the sushi.

Rainstorm.

My dad and I were at a small table at Buca di Beppo on Saturday night. He offered to take me to the airport so I could hang out with K, H, and E (my nieces-6,4, & 2) in the beautiful Pacific Northwest while their mommy and daddy have a grown-up vacation this week. So we came up the night before, and he had a coupon, so he said the magic words: "You wanna go to Buca?"



Have you met me? HA!



We were sitting at an itty-bitty table in the corner enjoying our meal when our sweet waitress, a girl named Elizabeth, said that we shouldn't leave Buca because funnel clouds were all around us.

My first thought was that if we were forced to spend the night at Buca, they would probably have really good bacon and eggs available for purchase the next morning.

Then I declared that a bad thought.



Well, I had a piece of chocolate cake (of which I only ate one-fourth, which was probably even too much) in front of me and was feeling like Bruce Bogtrotter in that chocolate cake scene from Matilda. I had one eye on the television but wasn't really too concerned. A few minutes later everyone had decided to hit the dusty trail and Buca was officially closed a few hours early due to the twisters around the Indy area. My dad and I followed suit, ready to get back to the hotel.

My dad took the wheel of that little Ford Focus, and it began to rain.


Bloggerotsky, forget cats and dogs. It was raining Lion King animals.

The funny thing was, the little pansy sitting in the passenger seat didn't even break a sweat! Now had I been behind the wheel myself, Miss Independent, trying to make it back to the hotel, I would have pulled over and had the ugly cry for which I am pretty much infamous.

I would have panicked and probably would not have been able to navigate. The GPS would have stressed me out and put me in further panic mode, much like the sidekick in every movie that tells you when something bad is about to happen but does nothing to stop it.



Instead, because my dad, who has a lot more driving experience and general wisdom, was behind the wheel, I was really not concerned in the least. In fact, he may or may not have gotten frustrated at some points because I was so completely content to play on facebook with my BlackBerry in the midst of said Lion King storm.



I knew that my dad knew better than me in this situation and that I should just probably sit back and try to enjoy a little adventure. I wasn't driving, and that was best.



It reminds me of God, my friends.



In 1 Peter 5:7, we are told: "Cast your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you."



My dad cared for me and wanted me to make it back to the hotel safely. He was able to be trusted.

We got back to the hotel safely that night.





My God also knows all things and has my best interests at heart. He is able to be trusted too. I believe that it is best when Jesus drives the car in this life, and you've seen what happens when I drive, so I let Him drive with full assurance that HE is able to be trusted far much more than I am. Let the rain fall. I don't have to be afraid because Someone who loves me and knows much more than me is behind the wheel.



Big or small, God cares about the things that concern our hearts, and I am so thankful we serve a God who can be trusted.

God and That Girl in Checkout Line.

So I went to the grocery today intent on buying some quality food. So I bought greens, some dairy, and lots of fruit and nuts.

I avoided my "trouble aisles" and pretty much anything that wasn't on the perimeter, like all the weight-loss gurus say to do.


And as I was pulling my cart into my friend Marion's check out line, I looked down at my cart, pleased with the plethora of color and health that would soon be filling my fridge and my body.


Then I heard God speak as clearly as I have heard him in months.

"It's all well and good to eat better foods. But if you really want to get healthy, we need to deal with this food addiction you have."



You see, food has been one of my "golden calves" or an idol that takes the place of where Jesus needs to be in my life. Sometimes if I am sad, or afraid, or upset, or missing my mom, or happy, or excited, or nervous, I head to the cupboard or the freezer for the comfort I need instead of opening my Bible, turning on some praise music, or talking to God.

Because of this, my lifestyle is unhealthy and my body, the Temple of the Most High God, scripture says, is not glorifying God. Granted, Jesus tells us it's not what goes in that makes us polluted but what comes out. However, eventually what we put into our minds, bodies, and spirits is going to come out into our lives.

When I did the No Other Gods study last semester with the OCU Women's Bible Study last year, God began showing me that I could no longer go at the pace I was going ministry-wise, pursue my passions, love my family well, and be a good wife and mom someday unless I chose to give up the idol of food in my life.

It's many moons later, and still, That Girl, That Girl two-by-four can barely fit into her pants anymore. Something's gotta give. (Providence girls are hoping it's not the button on my gauchos!)

This has very little to do with outward appearances and much more to do with the state of the heart. God wants a relationship with us no matter what size we are. And I'm convinced that those people I love don't really care what the scale reads as long as I am healthy and happy.

It has more to do with my relationship with Jesus and how I don't want anything, not even a freaking blessed bonbon, getting in the way of knowing Him and He knowing me.

So I am asking you to pray for me, Bloggerotsky. I need the power of Christ to overcome my addiction to food so that God is honored in every single part of who I am, not just the parts that are already surrendered. Right now I am working on developing some good habits, but mostly I will hopefully be using A LOT of prayer and reliance on Jesus. I expect an all-out war from the enemy, so a little battle would be a nice surprise. However, I have allowed the Enemy a stronghold in my life for many years now and it will take lots of work, trial, error, and forgiveness through God's grace to overcome.

I imagine it will also take a few more checkout line conversations between The Big Guy and That Girl.

You Do All Thing Well...

I think God wants me to say to my readers today that He doesn't make mistakes. He doesn't make anything that is sub-par or not as good. He makes nothing He doesn't think is beautiful or creative or unique. He does all things well.

If you are feeling less-than-gorgeous
having a bad hair day
having insecurity issues
feeling ugly or fat
if you glanced in the mirror only to wish you hadn't this morning
if you have bags under your eyes from being up all night with a sick or hungry child
if your hands have dirt underneath them from cleaning house or garden
if those around you have trampled on you by words or actions, leaving you feeling unwanted
if no one has recognized the beauty within you, leaving you doubtful that it exists


Satan would like for you to feel completely defeated today, therefore keeping you from offering the beauty of your life to those around you.


let our very real Enemy be silenced with this:

"You are the one who put me together

inside my mother's body,

and I praise you

because of the wonderful way

you created me.

Everything you do is marvelous!

Of this I have no doubt.

Nothing about me is hidden from you!

I was secretly woven together

deep in the earth below,

but with your own eyes you saw my body being formed.

Even before I was born, you had written in your book

everything I would do.

Psalm 139:13-16, CEV

Read that out loud until you believe it. Let it sink into your spirit.

You are beautiful, my Bloggerotsky!

Father, I pray that you would reveal the beauty you have placed inside each of my readers. Show them that they are fearfully and wonderfully made. We know that you do all things well. Helps us to believe that about ourselves and free us to always look for the beauty in others without envy or jealousy. In the strong name of Jesus, AMEN.

How can God empower you to offer your beauty to the world today without fear of rejection?

Guest Blog//What If We....(please read)

My friend Cody spent a year in Ch*na working as an official teacher and a covert missionary to college students. I heard him share this story


and I can NEVER, ever be the same.


This story begs the question:



Cody's Story....
I would like to tell you a story of what I experienced while being a missionary to Ch*na. I had been in the city of Guanghzou for my first two months working with the underground Church. Everything seemed to be going great until one week God totally flipped my world upside down.

I always noticed a homeless beggar that sat on a sidewalk. What was really interesting about this man is that he would only come out at night. He was almost ashamed of being seen in his state during the day. So one night on my way back from leading a bible study I walked past this man. I felt like I should help him out so I put a little money in the bowl that he kept in front of him as he sat on the disgusting sidewalk. (Sidewalks in Ch*na are not the cleanest to say the least (!) and it is considered a place for only the most lowly). I walked on after giving him the money and felt good about myself. I felt like I had shown that man the love of Christ. Then later that night as I got in bed I realized that I should have done more.

So the next day I went and bought the man some bread and a bottled water. I handed it to him, smiled and went on my day feeling once again that I had shown the love of Christ to this man. As I lay down in my bed that night God spoke right to my heart like he never had before. I realized, "Yeah, I'm giving him money and food, but is that showing the love of Christ?

I realized that it wasn't showing His love, because after all, Muslims have the command to give to the poor in their religion, Buddhists also have the command to help the poor, Atheists for the most part help others in need.

In fact, all of these groups had done these same things I had been doing with this homeless man. So how was I to show this man the love of Christ? How did that look different from what they were doing? So God spoke to me and showed me what He did to show people love. God spoke to my heart and the following few days changed my life.

I walked by the man as I did many nights before. I walked by him and went about a block away to a noodle shop. There I bought some soup and noodles, food that he could never afford to buy but for me, the sacrifice was nothing. I walked over to him and handed him the noodles. He looked up at me, took the food, and said "Thank you," in Ch*nese. But the next thing really caught him off guard.

I sat down next to him and crossed that taboo barrier. I pulled out my own soup and noodles and started to eat next to him on the dirty sidewalk.

I remember him just staring over at me for what seemed like forever. I can't help but wonder if he was thinking: "Is this big white stranger going to hurt me?" (I am a big man.) But eventually he went back to eating his noodles. I practiced some of my Chinese with him, introducing myself, telling him where I was from, what my name was.

People walked by and their faces said it all. It was obvious as they passed by that they had never before seen this rather unusual sidewalk friendship. I had a great conversation with him and he had opened up by the end of it. I got up, said goodbye, and went home. Over the next week I returned with my friend and some soup and noodles. I got to know him very well and was eventually able to tell him about Christ's love for him.

One night he wrote on a napkin we had. He wrote in Chinese something that I will treasure always. It translated to "You are the greatest man I have ever met." I didn't know what to think when I later found out the meaning of the words. But that night was the last time I saw him. They probably found out about an American sitting with him and kicked him out into the small villages in order to keep China's positive image. But what he wrote stuck with me. Once again I got in my bed that night and God spoke to me. I realized that I am far from a great man, and in fact I am a man that is terrible, but through this terrible man the homeless beggar saw the Greatest Man, Jesus. It was the first time that I have ever felt like Jesus completely used me one hundred percent, like I was just a spectator. It felt good and fueled my passion to not just do a little something extra, but rather to really show people what the difference is between doing good things and showing a person the true love of Christ.

Now, I ask you friends. Are you any different from an atheist, a Muslim, a Buddhist, or a Hindu? We all do nice and good things, but what makes what we are doing any different from what they are doing? We need to truly share the love of Christ with people in a way that we are sometimes secretly scared to. That is what makes Jesus the amazing man that He is! He went the extra distance to show people that he actually cared about them and not just their needs. So, what are you going to do about it? Today is the day, friends. What if We....

Finally a Whisper.

So this weekend, I served with an incredible group of people to bring over 40 women a little closer to the knowledge of God's love for them. I did come expecting Jesus, but not in the way that He spoke.


Sometimes it's hard for me when I see young women and their moms hanging out together, or shopping, or sipping lattes at Starbucks. It's obviously a beautiful thing to see mothers and daughters connecting in healthy relationships, but I would be lying if I said my heart didn't break all over again for the sadness I feel to never have that again. Sure, I have LOTS of women who love me, speak over my life, pray for me, minister to my heart, and challenge me to be more like Jesus. God saw to it that I will always have some mamas-in-heart ready and willing to take care of me when this 23-year-old kid gets overwhelmed by ministry, relationships, or life in general. I do not take that lightly and thank Him every day for providing in such special ways.

it's still hard. The pain is still there--I have moments. As my friend (and one of my most precious "mamas") Kathy said, "We don't fall apart [as believers in Christ]. We have moments."

Well, Bloggerotsky, I still have my moments. As well as my friends Jan and Janet and Abby and Chelsa and Ali and Annie and Shellie and Janelle and lots of others who have lost someone they loved.


This weekend, I was reminded that God is in the details. If you want to debate that, it's a truth for which I will go to the mat. Let me demonstrate:


Jeremiah 33:3 was a verse that my mom discovered late in her battle with cancer. God spoke to her through that verse and she shared with everyone that "God has secrets, you know!" with her sweet little eyebrow-raising wink and a smile. That was the truth that got her through some really hard days--the truth that God had secrets that she searched out---secrets that we don't know unless we go searching for them...


Around that same time, the scripture from I Kings 19 really spoke to me--about how the Lord was not in the earthquake, or the fire, or the wind. Instead, He made Himself known in the gentle whisper or, as some scholars translate it, the sound of sheer silence.

One day, as that scripture was still turning over and over in my mind, feeding me and ministering to me about my future, my mom's health, my college career, and all the things through which I was straining to hear his voice, I passed by our rack of little cards in our family's Christian Bookstore. I saw this one that caught my eye--it was bright purple and had these callalillies (normally I can't stand callas but this one time... hee hee) on it. I took the card and laid it on the counter where I would see it often. I kept thinking, "Lord, I know you are speaking comfort in a whisper--so I have to be quiet to hear it.


Little did I know that He would speak in a whisper a year and a half later.


This weekend, I opened this sweet card from my mama's BFF, Julie, who now runs and manages our store as well as taking care of my dad and me (she helps me to remember important things and I can ask her for help with anything--including accompaniment to my Lady Doctor appointments...she's another "mama" for sure). Inside was a cute little paperweight that said 'BELIEVE' which was my mom's favorite word. Inside was also what is now one of my most treasured possessions.


It was a sticky note in my mom's handwriting stuck to the card I told you about.

It said:

Jeremiah 33v3
secrets


WHAT ARE THE ODDS?

don't tell me He is not interested in what I call details ministry.


A gentle whisper from the heart of Father to a daughter. A daughter who sometimes doesn't understand but tries to trust that heart. A daughter who misses the mother she lost. A daughter who sometimes has to strain to hear that oh-so gentle whisper.


I continue to see the facet of the character of God that proves the Holy Spirit is a comforter. If you need comfort today, listen to that gentle whisper, or that sound of sheer silence, and know that this One we serve, this Master to whom we bow, has secrets He longs to show you. Secrets of His power, His might, and His love. Secrets that only YOU AND HE UNDERSTAND.


Julie didn't know about the card--she just thought I could use a little piece of my mom's memory--but God did know. He did see me fall in love with that I Kings passage that day and He sees our needs right here as I type.

I know He is only a breath, a whisper, away from all of us this day. Won't you ask Him to whisper His secrets in your ear?

Overheard...

I was being sassy at the Thomspon house this morning, and Terri says to me

"It's all that Italian ya got in you. Your grandma's Italian heritage."



"Terri, my Grandma was German."



"Oh, well then. It's all that German ya got in you...."



lesson: just 'cause I eat all of her pepperocinis does not mean I am Italian. :D

Quoteable.

"You came to see a race today. To see someone win. It happened to be me. But I want you to do more than just watch a race. I want you to take part in it. I want to compare faith to running in a race. It's hard. It requires concentration of will, energy of soul. You experience elation when the winner breaks the tape - especially if you've got a bet on it. But how long does that last? You go home. Maybe you're dinner's burnt. Maybe you haven't got a job. So who am I to say, 'Believe, have faith,' in the face of life's realities? I would like to give you something more permanent, but I can only point the way. I have no formula for winning the race. Everyone runs in her own way, or his own way. And where does the power come from, to see the race to its end? From within. Jesus said, 'Behold, the Kingdom of God is within you. If with all your hearts, you truly seek me, you shall ever surely find me.' If you commit yourself to the love of Christ, then that is how you run a straight race."

Eric Liddell,
from the film Chariots of Fire

Hoof -in-Mouth Disease.

Anyone have any good stories about sticking the foot in the mouth?


I could use some cheering up. I think I said the wrong thing last night that really intimidated someone. Dang it. Well, I didn't meeeean it like it sounded. I am pretty sure if I would have said it in person...

nope. even MORE awkward. If that's possible.

nevermind.



C'mon. Share your stories. Misery loves company :D

As I Lay Me...

When I was a young girl, I loved this song by Sophie B. Hawkins. I think I liked for a couple of reasons:
I loved the melody and it was easily stuck in my head.
I liked the words a lot and it was on the radio all the time.
most of all, in it were the words I prayed before bed each night.



As I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.



My mom and I would pray that together every evening between The Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew mysteries and turning on the radio to lull me to sleep. Sometimes that song would come on as I was in bed. I remember something inside of me would soar when I heard that song. It was written as a love song, but it was so much more to me.


This (February--coincidence?) morning, as I sat in the dentist's chair praying for all of those I love who have lost loved ones or who are struggling...
jan
janet
ryan & chelsa
annie
julie
abbie
andrew
tim
matt & rachel
carla
sara
stephanie
tom

the list goes on and on and on....

and as I was talking to God on their behalf and in general, this sweet song began to play. I listened to the words, and suddenly they had new meaning.

It is a love song, but now I don't sing about someone, but TO Someone.

It is my heart cry for all of you who are carrying burdens today. May strength rise as you wait upon the Lord. And may He hold you dear, though you feel far away. May you whisper His name into the sky and wake up to a new day.

Join me in making this your prayer today not only for you but to those who hurt around you.


It felt like springtime on this February morning
In the courtyard birds were singing your praise
I'm still recalling things you said to make me feel all right
I carried them with me today now

As I lay me down to sleep
This I pray
That you will hold me dear
Though I'm far away
I'll whisper your name into the sky
And I will wake up happy

I wonder why I feel so high
Though I am not above the sorrow
Heavy-hearted
'Til you call my name
And it sounds like church bells
Or the whistle of a train
On a summer evening
I'll run to meet you
Barefoot
Barely breathing

As I lay me down to sleep
This I pray
That you will hold me dear
Though I'm far away
I'll whisper your name into the sky
And I will wake up happy

It's not too near for me
Like a flower I need the rain
Though it's not clear to me
Every season has its change
And I will see you
When the sun comes out again

As I lay me down to sleep
This I pray
That you will hold me dear
Though I'm far away
I'll whisper your name into the sky
And I will wake up happy




grace and peace to you, my friends.

El Roi.

The Lord gave me a scripture twice yesterday. I love studying the Hebrew and in Genesis 16, Hagar is forced by Sarah to flee to the desert, alone and pregnant. (I hear being pregnant is no picnic sometimes, but in the desert...yikes!) Then the Angel of the Lord ministers to her and in verse 13 she calls him El Roi, the God who sees.
Becky Boyles gave me a names of God sign with the name El Roi on it yesterday.
Then I spoke with Heather McPherson and asked her little boy Mason what his memory verse was this week.

Yep, you guessed it. "Thou God seest thee" (they memorize in KJV--too cute, huh?!).

I shared this in an email with some friends this morning but God prompted me to also share it with my loyal Bloggerotsky.


Our God sees you. He sees your frustration at the prayers you have prayed that have yet to be visibly answered. He sees the things that make you joyful and the things that have broken your heart.
He also sees your future and your past.
He sees you right now, sitting at a desk or teaching a classroom full of kids.
He sees you as you deal with clients and as you struggle to make ends meet in this recession.
He sees you as you care for your own children and rinse their sippy cups for the fifteenth time today.
He sees you as you lay in bed and cry because you think that He can't really see you because if He could, He would end your hurts.
He sees you beg Him for the dream in your heart to become a reality.

The God of the universe sees you. Unfiltered. Unrefined.

In 2 Chronicles 16, God tells us a little more about His character.
For the eyes of the LORD range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him.

At the end of ourselves, we find a beauty in the knowledge that God has seen every tear we've cried, every song we've sung, every prayer we have prayed, and every moment we have gotten it right.

May the comfort of the God who sees everything about us and still loves us be what carries us today.

Gracious.

And he passed in front of Moses, proclaiming, "The LORD, the LORD, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness...

Exodus 34:6



Have you ever been hurt by another person?

Have you found it hard to forgive?


I was asking the Lord this weekend to show me if there was "any wicked way in me" (Psalm 139) and He reminded me of "the cringe."

[Now I am going to blog this, but I am asking you not to assume that this is about anyone or anything in particular. 23 years is a long time to live in the world and along with those 23 years have come many hurts and wounds. Please be gentle and extend grace as I share these things with you, for I believe there are others like me who are struggling to forgive and I would not share this otherwise.]


"The Cringe" is a phenomenon that I named after noticing that when I have a beef with someone, I often cringe if I find myself faced with the possibility of seeing them. This is unhealthy and just plain wrong, especially when I cringe at the thought of being around brothers and sisters in Christ.

Friends, this should not be!

So as I asked the Lord if there was any wicked way, and he showed me "The Cringe" I had to sigh. Sometimes I ask questions to which I already know the answer.

As I think about the people that hurt me, I am reminded also that it all goes back to this:

If I believe that God is who He says He is, then the original problem behind "The Cringe" (my awkwardness or fear) is that

are you ready for this?


I am not trusting His character to make it right. His Word tells me He will, after all.

Everything, and I do mean everything, comes down sooner or later to an issue of faith. Do I believe God will reveal truth and make it right? Do I believe God has called me to love and forgive without condition?

AND NOT ONLY THAT,

but to be gracious, just as He has been gracious to me?


I didn't understand that word when I found it again in Exodus 34 last Tuesday. But I could not get that word out of my mind this weekend for anything...
I looked it up, and although it has several definitions, this is the one that was most helpful:
to be merciful or compasssionate

God is showing me that it's not enough to forgive. I must show great compassion and understanding, just as he shows me. I have a high priest who can sympathize with the deepest parts of my humanity. To avoid showing that to another person would be to deny the very nature of the God who lives in me.
Being gracious is not just about forgiveness. It's about having compassion on the human condition we so easily recognize in other but miss in ourselves.

So here I am, declaring that I need the grace of the One True God to not only love and forgive, but to be gracious. To extend mercy and compassion. Now for those of you who have heinous things done to you, this does not mean that we offer excuses for the behavior of others. Rather, it is living in the declaration of the Gospel, which is that...

"... God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."


He willingly laid down His own life for us while we were His enemies. Not only did He love us, but His compassion on us caused Him to desire to lay down His own life in order for us to find redemption. Now that's compassion. That is mercy.

That's the gracious thing to do, isn't it, girls?

And that makes me want to lay down my artificially created "right" to be upset, or to be hurt, or to have "The Cringe" manifest itself anymore.


Forgiveness is a choice, and it will never be a feeling before the choice is made. So if you are like me, you better quit waiting for a feeling to come and make the choice to walk in FAITH that God is who He says He is and offer compassion.

Don't miss out on a chance to be like Jesus and offer grace today. I need it so desperately, so how could I ever withhold it from anyone?

Be gracious.

Humbled.

That is what I am when I read emails like this one from Kathryn.

Lauren, do you have a paypal account? I'd like to send you enough $$ to buy 200 pieces of chocolate.. like Dove or those new Hershey Bliss.... I just recenty realized that Seth lived for 200 days and I"ve been praying for an opportunity to honor that (and a more "long term type of ministry.. still praying on that one). I'll figure out about how much that would be and how many packages, if I can easily get the $ and you could pick them up..

Baby Seth lived for 200 days. His legacy will live forever. I never got to meet him and neither did my girls. But their lives will be touched by his.



Please go read their story and encourage them today.