Eve- The Blame game

I have thought about what I have and how to just stop. Another lesson I learned from Eve? The blame game will get you nowhere.
     My daughter was throwing herself on her bed, flailing her arms about, and crying uncontrollable. I stood in her doorway. Arms crossed and made no move to help. "She sat up and swept her curly locks out of her tear streaked face. "Can't you see what they have done to me?" she cried. "Who?" I asked her.  "Them! Luke and Bella. They play with my stuff that I set up and ruin my whole game." "Well, I don't think it is their fault that you are choosing to act like this."  "I am having a bad day. I didn't get much sleep last night, I don't feel good, they ruin everything, and I just..(sob)...want...(sob)....to be left alone." ::blink, blink::
     First I was taken a back at this mini teenage argument with my 6 year old. Oh my. She was really acting like this was the end of the world. But also, I was not liking how she was really to blame the whole world for her situation. I sat and waited until she had calmed down. Then we talked about blame. Whose fault was what. How we need to take responsibility for our actions, even if our little brother did "deserve" to get a doll thrown at him...sigh.
     I thought of this when I was finishing my Eve bible study. In Genesis Chapter 3, God asks Adam what is going on? (my paraphrase) Adams answer "The woman you put here with me-she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it." Ahhhh... Good one. Blame God. Basically, Adam is saying this is not my fault. If anything God it is your fault. You put this woman here. Or if you don't want to go there, then it is this woman. After all, SHE picked it and SHE handed it to me. What was I to do?
     Then God turns to Eve, "What is this you have done?" How does she answer. "The serpent deceived me and so I ate." Not my fault. The devil made me do it.
     One of the very concerning things I am noticing in our culture, in adults and children alike, is the lack of responsibility and the abundance of excuses.  Why is your room a mess? You let me stay up to late. Why is your homework not done? My mom didn't remind me. Of course there should be more of this in children. They are learning about taking responsibility. But in adults? Surly there comes a time when we are grown and take responsibility for our actions, for our choices.

     I saw a quote on facebook the other day that made me chuckle.



Don't tell my kids it says stupid. But seriously, sometimes it is your fault. It is my fault. I acted like a jerk. I could give you a host of reasons as to why it should be ok. I am very pregnant. My husband promised and her forgot. My kids won't listen. The list could go on and on. But when it comes right down to it I am responsible for me. Especially when I make the choice to go outside of God's will and sin. No one made me do it. I had a choice. I made it.

     Thankfully the Bible told me that this is not the end. My bad choice, my sin, is not the end. Admitting that yes I was wrong is not where my story ends.

"If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness."  1 John 1:8,9  In short, I admit it, he forgives me. If I continue to play the blame game, I find no peace. It will always be someone or something else. I lose control of my choices and my life. I have handed over the reins to another. I don't want anyone having that kind of power over me. I make my choices. When they are wrong, I admit it. I blame no one but myself. I go to God to say "I am sorry" and we begin again.

     I wonder how things may have turned out had Adam and Eve gone to God looking for mercy instead of presenting excuses. But then we know the end of that story don't we. That is where this old and new combine. God would send His one and only son. That those who are looking for forgiveness will receive it. That his blood would cover anyone who knelt and asked. That means placing the blame where it belongs. On me.

A perspective on dandelions

Last evening at the dinner table..

Luke- "Everyone has computers."
Scott- "Not everyone. Ya know when I was a kid, no one had a computer."
Rachel- "What did you do?"
Theresa- "Play outside like normal little kids."
Will- "I have heard of this. Ya know, I heard somewhere, back in the olden days, like in 1991, they didn't have computers. I heard you had to use sticks to count with in school."
Theresa- "Will! I had more than sticks to count with in school, and 1991 is not the olden days."
Will- "How about 1990. That was defiantly the olden days."

*******************************************************************
A little perspective goes a long way. In Will's mind, I am sure 1990 seems like an eternity away. After all, to him Christmas was another lifetime. But to me, 1990 is barley yesterday. I can bring up memories of elementary school, playing on the Bakerton ball field, and fishing with friends. The olden days? I think not.

Have you ever heard "it is all in how you look at it?" Of course it is. Let me give you one of my favorite example. One in which my age isn't being trampled into the ground!


The dandelion. I have always loved this flower. As a kid I would dance through the yard, gathering up as many as I can find. It was a good day when the dandelions had shed their yellow and became the wishing flower. A white puff of dreams blown into the wind. The more flowers I found, the more wishes there were. I know now as an adult I should hate the dandelion. It is a symbol of an unkept lawn. A weed if you will. As I walked through the store the other day, bags of dandelion killer were everywhere.

But I can't help it. I still love dandelions. I love the bright yellow scattered over a sea of green. I love it when my little ones bring me fist fulls of sunshine. I love watching them puff their little cheeks and blowing the whiskers to Santa. It is all a matter of perspective.

You know one of the things I love about Jesus. Really probably in my top 5. His different perspective of things. He never quite saw things the way others did. While other people looked on the religious leaders of the day with reverence and awe, Jesus saw a pit of vipers. When woman and children were seen as more of a nuisance and an inconvenience at best, Jesus saw the future and a hope. They saw a poor woman with a useless offering. He saw a mountain of faith. They saw sinners and scoundrels while he saw pain, sickness, and agony in need of a Healer. He saw purpose.

Jesus's perspective wasn't by far the popular one. He never would have won an election. Heck, they were shouting for his death a week after his praises. He wasn't about swaying popular opinion. He looked beyond the surface and saw what was hidden. He had the perspective of God.

Every day I need to pray for that perspective. Trials and hardships can weigh on the heart. Changes in plans can be seen as deal breakers. Sometimes if we take the time to step back and really look closely, we can see these times as opportunities for growth. I also need to stop trying to see things from the popular perspective. Or the way everyone else is looking at it. I need to see beauty where I once saw a field of useless weeds. Because really, things are all in how you look at it.

A fickle kind of people

My favorite holiday has always been Easter. Even as a small child I remember going to church during Holy Week. We grew up Catholic and would attend Stations of the Cross at least once. I was young but listened to the story of betrayal and pain. I would say the prayers and I remember tears in my eyes. I would get so mad at those people yelling "Crucify him" at my Jesus. How could they? When just a week ago they cried out His praises? Terrible people.

I am a few years older and just a few wiser. My perspective has changed. I still listen to the story in awe. Tear still spring to my eyes and my throat closes. But terrible people? No. Fickle? Yes. Fickle meaning likely to change or not constant or loyal in affection. So familiar.

We as a people tend to sway. This way and that. Whatever way the "wind" takes us. We believe this today and that tomorrow. We fight for and believe in a cause until another catches out eyes. Relationships fade in and out. What catches our eye in this instant may not the next.

As I turn to those people who shouted Hosanna on Psalm Sunday, I also look to the same group who would cry for His blood less that a week later. What happened in a week? One of my theories is in relationship. It is much easier to walk away from an idea than a person. Those who called for the King that day, did they know Him? Or were they just swept in the excitement of an idea? Did they know the person, the heart of Christ or just who he claimed to be? No. They couldn't have.

But then there is also those who did know him. And while they were not crying out for so called justice, they were not exactly fighting for His freedom either. The Bible tells us that Jesus began this journey alone with tearful prayer in the garden. Although Peter strikes out at the soldier when he is first confronted, hours later he denies even knowing Him. All are silent. Silent by fear? Silent by lack of trust? Silent by uncertainty and lack of conviction. How could you be so wrong about something that looked so right?

Two groups of people. Those who never really knew Him, but rather shouted His praises one day and clamored for His death the next. The majority of the people. Content with religion bot relationship. More interested in the comfort of day to day and certainly not into fighting for justice.

But the second group does give me pause. The ones who sat at His feet. Easy enough for us to read the Easter Story and ask how? To claim that I would never. But do the doubts of the disciples plague us  today? Would fear stop us? Unmet expectations have us sitting silently as they lead our Savior away? Sometimes it is easy to sit in judgement of situations we have not yet found ourselves in.

Every year I ponder the Easter Story again. Such an amazing story of love. Relentless love on the part of our God. Willing to go to the very end for people who never deserved any of it to begin with. Psalm Sunday is a day I love. A day of praise. A day where we all gathered to say Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord.

But then I remember the rest of the story. And pray. Pray that when the darkness comes, as it always does, I will remember the days of praise. That I will run back to His faithfulness. To His unfailing compassion, love mercy...and ultimately...His sacrifice.

What if...

Pennies and what matters most

My two year old daughter was a mess. Her little face was covered in dirt. Her clothes stained with orange Popsicle. Half her hair matted down with heaven only knows what while the other half stood straight up. So all in all she had a fabulous day. Now she was in the bathtub and she was not handing over what was tightly wrapped in her hand. My daughter had lots of "monies" and she was not giving them up to her mother.

Bella was clutching a fist worth of pennies. About 5 in her little dirt smudged hand. I promised to give them back as soon as bath was over. She pulled her balled up fist to her chest and shook her head back and forth. "no Mommy. My monies!" So I let her take her fortune with her into the bathtub. Only one minor snafu was when she dropped some of her gold treasure in the bubble tub and we had to go on an emergency search and rescue. After all, this was five pennies.

I took her to her bedroom and was getting her ready for night-night. Here is where I had to draw the line. No way was I letting her sleep with the monies. After a lot of convincing and a promise to give her another "money" in the morning, she finally agreed to open her hand and let me place her 5 treasured pennies on her dresser. She watched them the whole way into the bed and looked at them over her milk cup. I swear she had one eye on me and one eye on the pennies at all times. Just wanting to make sure that mom didn't take off with her fortune. First thing in the morning, Bella asked for her monies again. Putting them in her purse, on the table, in her tea party cup, or anywhere else she traveled. The pennies were worth a lot more than 5 cents to her!

The next day I received a message from a devotional group I belong to. And it looked like this....

 

And I loved it. And I thought about it. And it made me think of pennies.

You see I am a busy lady. I bet if you are reading this, you are pretty busy too. Lives are so very very full. We have places to be and things to do. Obligations that must be met and deadlines looming. Bills need taken care of and time just runs short. But what really matters in my life? What truly is LIFE and DEATH. I began remembering a scripture I memorized years ago-

Psalm 39:4-6 says:

“Lord, make me to know my end,
and what is the measure of my days,
That I may know how frail I am.
Indeed, the number of my days is small like the size of a hand.
And my age is as nothing before You.
Certainly every man at his best state is but vapor.”

Haven't we all heard the saying that "life is short." Truly it is. I couldn't begin to tell you how many times strangers have approached me when I am out and about with my kids and they tell me to cherish every minute. One time when I was with my four crazy loud wonderful darlings, a much older woman smiled at me as I was trying to get all of them to settle as I put the groceries on the belt. Luke was trying to see how close he could her his finger to the moving belt that sucked in, Bella was screaming that she must have that snickers bar that was only slightly out of reach, and Will and Rachel argued over who got to put the grapes up to pay for them. I remember being tired. And frustrated. The older woman looked at me, with tears in her eyes, and said "this too shall pass. One thing is for certain, they don't stay little for long."

And they won't. I am given such a small window of time here and now. Whats matters to me? What in my life will truly outlive me? Will it be the love for my husband? The dedication and determination of raising Godly wonderful children? Will it be the hand I offer to a friend or a word of comfort to a stranger? At times when so many things seem pressing into me at all times, I must remember what really matters. What counts for me. So much of it are simply pennies. I clutch at them. Worried that if I open my hands, all of my "pennies" will fall out. Then when I look close....really close....I see how next to worthless so much of it is. Why worry over things that are here today and gone tomorrow? Should I invest my time, energy, love, and talent into things of eternal value?
And this Lord, is my prayer
Psalm 90:12
“Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom”.

True Love

One of my new favorite blogs is over here...Marriage Life

I loved a section from a post that was wrote...
"We think…
Love is easy.
Love is gushy.
Love is exciting.
Love is uncontrollable.
Love is a feeling. It comes and goes.
Love is something I give to someone based on how they make me feel.
The problem with this is we have a skewed human view of what love is. It doesn’t even come close to God’s version.
Love is hard.
Love is sacrificial.
Love is an action.
Love is a choice.
Love involves commitment and cost.
Love is unconditional.

God is Love
Wow! Could it be more true? As Lent season is very quickly approaching, I was thinking on this and back to a sermon my father-in-law once preached  in the Easter Season. I know it was not long after I had Will. I know that because it focused on how much God loved us. He loved us SO much he gave his son. I looked down at my sweet, blue eyed perfect boy. He GAVE his son.

If you are most like most mamas (or daddies or aunties, uncles, grandmas, paps) I know, no one hurts our babies. Their tears are like knives to the heart and we would do anything to make everything ok. So give you my son? Never. I would say I would die for someone I love. But hand over my son for them? Hand you my heart. Never. I remember tears falling over my face, sliding down my cheek, and falling into his hair. Not my son. God your son? Trust me...I am not worth it.

And yet, He said I was. And you are. That is love.

We are to love like him. Pastor Paul (AKA Dad-in-law) did a sermon on should we love only the lovable? Nope. Why? (I knew the answer.) Cause we certainly are not always lovable.

I guess this is where V-day and Lent intersect this time. Loving someone, ESPECIALLY the person you have pledged your life to is not easy. It is not about feelings or as Marriage Life put it the way they make me feel. True love and lasting love is an action and a daily choice. God's love, true love, is the only things that lasts. that will endure. Our human ideas? Our expectations? Ours wants, needs, and love? It will fail you. Because it has no sustainability. Who can truly love someone like that all of the time?

Today I choose you. I choose to love you no matter the cost to me. I choose to stand next to you even when you don't ask or deserve it. I will not make decisions based on feelings that are fleeting and sometimes deceitful depending on mood, hormones, or phases of the moon. Feelings can lie about what is true. When (not if, but when)  it gets hard, draw me to you God. Help me again.

Today I will be God's hands and feet. Love you not with my ability but through the eyes of a Father who loved you so much he was willing to give the most precious thing imaginable.

Make over

As I walked onto the porch I knew I was in trouble.The porch which I would refer to as "Freddy Krueger" drive was sagging, broken, and paint peeling. Did I mention it was a red brick house and the roof of the porch was painted pink?? The porch was, once upon a time, green. My husband thought the wrap around porch was amazing. We approached a (heaven help me) blue door. The sight seeing continued to included a room painted with white and pink stripes (uneven of course), a floor that could give you splinters, and a bright orange family room. I should mention I am only mentioning a few of the highlights.

My husband was sold. He told me that our future home had so much "potential." He could do so much with it. After moving in, we quickly figured out how hard it is to move from potential to wonderful. Lots of planning and work. We moved in 4 and a half years ago. We ripped off the porch thanks to some family help and repainted it brown. Redid the door, the floor, and painted almost every room. This weekend we are working on something I have been dreaming of....my bedroom. The paint is an awful dark green and a ceiling trim that is worse. We are going to paint and then get a new bed set!

Last night, exhausted  from watching Scott work *wink*, I finished the book I had been reading. I looked over to my stand and say the book I had bought myself at Christmas. "Just Like Jesus"  by my buddy Max Lucado. I did read the first chapter. Then I got so nervous I put it down.

You see, in the first chapter it asks how your life would look if Jesus took over for a day. A whole 24 hours. Would you do anything different? Would you change the way you talked or thought? Would you take on different tasks and forgo others?

It made me nervous because it brings the question of how much does my faith influence my daily life? Of course I go to church, pray with my kids, make the fact that I am a believer well known. BUT what about in the little things? Do I still harbor a heart of worry? Do I still act in a way that I wouldn't if Jesus were standing there? Am I devoting my time to things that have an eternal impact?

What does this have to do with Freddie Kruger Ave? A make-over, be it a porch, bedroom, or person, takes a plan and lots of work. I thought last night how I wish a change of heart was taken care of as easy as a trip to the hardware store. Sure, it takes more elbow grease to paint trim than attack a bad attitude. But give me elbow grease over self control any day.

I, of course because I am me, begin to argue, whine, talk to God. I try. It is so hard. But do you see what THEY do? I kept reading and Max made quite the statement. It I am a believer I have it already. Jesus has already given me a heart like his. I just have to "tap" into that power. Flip the switch. Slowly. One step at a time.

A plan. To keep reading "Just Like Jesus" even when it makes me uncomfortable. Next step. How about applying a little of what I read. Lots of work? Absolutely.

self reflection

"It is never to late to become the person you might have been." - George Elliot

I took a class this summer called "Motivat*ing Students to Re*ad." One of the themes throughout the online 3 credit death trap aka interesting lecture was self reflection. The class opened and closed and did about 10 self reflectiong papers throughout. I was all self reflected out. I was about sick of looking at me thank-you very much!

But you never can underestimate the power of a mirror. At the end of the school year, a friend and I had a great conversation. We are both working mothers of young children with husbands and a host of other responsibilities. We were talking about everything that always needs done and the conversation slid to our faith. We are both Christians and we talked about how of the thing that should be first and foremost in our lives is so easily pushed aside. And that is just not right.

This summer I have been doing a lot of thinking...pondering...reading tons of books...and doing some self reflecting. I have seen that, man I need a lot of help! But where oh where to begin. So I prayed about it and I am starting with my mouth.

This is an area where I struggle. I am a pessimist. If something is going to go wrong, I think it will. I also tend to be loud when I am "asking" for everyone else to knock it off. It can get pretty crazy here at times to say the least. I have decided to check my speech. I will ask "do I have to say this?" If the answer is yes, then what is the best way to say it and where. The plan is to try and cut my speech in half (or at least tame it a bit) and make sure what I am saying needs to be said! For, example, calling Scott at work to tell him he forgot to take out the garbage and I had to do it...blah blah blah..is probably not necessary at that point and time.

"The tonuge also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire, and itselfset on fire by hell." James 3:6

"But the things that proceed out of the mouth some from the heart and those defile the man." Matt 15:18

This does not mean that I am going to succeed all the time. Heck, sometimes i have been awake for 10 minutes and need a do-over! I lose it too. But then I need to remember my plan and why I am doing this. I want to be a representation of Christ to my family. I can't so that if my mouth keeps on running ahead of me. I need to close my mouth.

To make things simple, I have also decided that at times I just need to be silent. When I am tired/stressed/overwhelmed (uh-oh I may never speak again), I just need to stop and listen. Which has stressed out my husband. He wants to know "what is wrong with you? are you ignoring me? Did I do something? Are you mad?" No, I am just self reflecting...although I don't think that will do much to clear up the confusion for him.....

Canada?

As I am climbing in Will's bed for him to fall asleep....

Me- "Will, we are going to memorize a new scripture. It is Pappy Demi's favorite."
Will-" What is it?"
Me- "Philippians 4:13 I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. I as in William Demi can do all things like go to bed by myself or be nice to my brother through Him which is Jesus who gives you the strength."
BIG PAUSE
Will- "All sure is a lot of things. You mean I could even drive to Canada?"
Me- "Go to sleep William."

Light

I was afraid of the dark when I was a kid. Very afraid. Isn't it funny that most kids are? What is it about the dark that frightens us to the core?

I remember we had a nightlight in our bedroom. Our, meaning me and my two brothers. My brother swore he could not sleep with the light on. I was near hysterics when the light was off. So my darling little brother would wait until I was asleep and then shut off the light. I would wake up to the dark. I couldn't breath. i couldn't move. I would drag myself up and flip on the light. Always making sure my feet did not touch the floor. I had under the bed issues to as a kid. I could fall asleep with the light on. Until little bro got up....again.

I remember reading a devotional as a teenager about light and darkness. It said that screaming and raging at the darkness will do no good. Slashing at it and fighting it will bring no relief. Now, quiet yourself and light a candle. Watch how the darkness flees.

Jesus is said to be the light of the world. The light that shines through our darkness. With Him, our true light, their is no fear. He dispels the dark. HE scatterers it. It has no power where he dwells.

That is what I want. A candle. A shower of light to dispel the dark. My Jesus. My candle.