Saturday, January 31, 2009
Don't Forget
Thursday, January 29, 2009
In The Middle
Yes I'm still out here! I've been working a lot, but I'm not complaining. In this economy, who would complain that they are too busy at work? Not me! I'm countin' it all joy.
Speaking of work, I'm launching the new year with a new approach. If staff comes to me with an issue, we have an immediate huddle with all involved parties to put it on the table. Some people are loving it, and other people have stopped coming to me because they don't want to hear what other people might say about them! Ha!
So since I'm very boring with nothing but boring work stories, here's my question of the day. Do you really want to know what other people think of you?
The Mr. and I are closet Desperate Housewives watchers. About a week ago we were talking about the couples on the show and decided that Tom and Lynette were on shaky marital ground because she is so controlling that she is driving him away.
A few days ago we're driving down the road and he says, "Which desperate house wife do you think you're most like?" Ya see where this is going?
I answered truthfully, "Lynette."
He agreed.
I immediately informed him that he is a hurtful little man and that particular statement is going on the blog. No, I wasn't really hurt because Lynette and I are somewhat alike. I know it.
So, do you really want to know what other people think of you? If someone thinks your hard to work with, talk to, deal with...do you want to hear about it?
P.S. that's me/Lynette in the middle.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
January 25, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Grocery List (so far)
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Something is missing Mr.President
My political perspective is two things, not a secret and irrelevant. This is my president and any differences I may have with him have nothing to do with the fact that he is my president today. I will pray for him, I will respect him. If you find me behaving with anything less than respect concerning Mr. Obama, please remind me that he is my president. I actually walked out of a room during the swearing in because the conversation had drifted away from the celebration of this democracy to the mocking of former President George W. Bush. This offended me greatly as the mocking of our leader is the mocking of the very blessing of the free vote that elected him. We must not so readily throw our collective dignity to the side.
And so, I have determined not to enter into such foolishness as this president takes his seat in the Oval Office. I did not vote for him, he is my president. I am not angry and I did not lose. The United States of America is a blessed nation and I will remain united.
So why post these two photographs? Why point this out? Because I am a citizen of America learning how to fulfill that role to the glory of God. No, I do not, within my heart, separate church and state. God is the leader of America not because of what we print on our money but because he is the ruler of the entire universe, his creation. He does not need the vote of the people to gain authority. Wednesday evening I went on the internet and read about the second swearing in and honestly, I am not sure I'd have seen the lack of the Bible except that it was mentioned specifically in every article I read. Basically, Mr. Obama said he had not brought his Bible with him but the oath was binding nonetheless. Ok. I never worried that the flubbed oath was unofficial much less the one lacking a Bible.
But something twisted in the pit of my stomach when I discovered this. Something made me uncomfortable, disappointed. My mind didn't explode with conspiracy theories nor did I insert President Obama into an addendum of the Left Behind series. The tangible unease in my gut came from how easily the President of the United States of America removed the Bible from his swearing in. And immediately on the heals of this thought, immediately; how easily I remove the Bible from my day. Is his hand on the Bible of any greater importance than mine somewhere between awakening and falling asleep? Have you heard 'the pew follows the pulpit'? Well, maybe the leader reflects the people. Yes, in America the leader reflects the people. I can be righteously indignant that the Holy Bible was irrelevant by Mr. Obama's own explanation. But how relevant is it when mine was no more in use on Wednesday than his?
He dares to swear by his own hand to execute the office of President of the United States. This is serious to me because any moment when God is diminished to a detail, a window dressing; is dangerous and reason to mourn.
Something is indeed missing. President Obama became to me a mirror on Wednesday.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
So Tired
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Faded Footprints
Sunday, January 18, 2009
January 18, 2009
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Beckons Me
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Roxanne!
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Flying
Monday, January 12, 2009
Leading Your Kids To The Throne
Joshua 3:9 And Joshua said unto the children of Israel, Come hither, and hear the words of the LORD your God.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
January 11, 2009
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Favorites
Friday, January 09, 2009
An Invitation.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
What I Believe
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
When It's Hard To Feel God
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Witnessing
"I'll just fake it" says the kid.
"Uh..."
"And if you live in Africa and never even heard of Jesus you'll have to get the Mark of the Beast? That's bogus."
Monday, January 05, 2009
Kissed By Christ
I had never seen this picture before I did a Google search for an image to add to this post. I searched for the name of my childhood church, Mamre Assembly of God, hoping for a picture without success. Then I found this one and instantly knew, this is it. This is really the image that best describes my moment of accepting Jesus.
When I was about four years old my parents were informed that I had a hole between the chambers of my heart and would require surgery. My mom & dad were understandably frightened and like so many of us, this fear turned them toward church. Christian relatives of my mother's encouraged them to take me to a service where I could be prayed for. I don't know how much they were driven by faith and how much by desperation but they following this advice. My doctors re-examined me following this healing service we attended and found there was no heart murmur, the first hint of my defect. That was because there was no defect, the hole in my heart was closed and I did not require surgery. This was the turning point for my mom and dad. With tangible evidence of a loving, powerful and healing God before them; they gave their lives to the Lord and as a family we began to attend Mamre Assembly of God.
That was the catalyst for my acceptance of Christ as my personal savior but I have to admit, that is as much of a story as I have to share. I was so young that I really don't remember a time when I was not "saved." I remember being raised on the story of my miraculous healing and perhaps with this remarkable testimony I had no option within myself except to know that I was literally saved by Jesus. I never experienced the common teenage doubt nor do I recall not knowing the Lord. That's why this picture so spoke to me. This is really the story of my salvation. I think of Jesus as always having been there. I used to be embarrassed when there would be moments to share one's salvation experience. People had actual dates and times, they could tell you where they were and what was happening. They could often name the person who prayed with them and led them to the Lord. I don't have that. I have no before and after. This no longer bothers me because now I realize what great privilege I've experienced. To have always known him, to have no memory of a time when I did not know for certain he was right there beside me. That must be a painful thing, to live without the assurance of Jesus. I have been spared that.
As I grew up I would come to realize at various times that I needed to recommit myself to the Lord. I might reach a new understanding, another stage of maturity and in this new grasp of what salvation really meant I would feel compelled to recognize the great sacrifice made for me and I would have my own private moment of accepting what I now understood to be the payment for my sins. I have also had times in my life when I was in soul drift and would need to drop my anchor again at the cross to remind myself that salvation was free but could be lost.
As a little girl I knew only that Jesus was my Lord and I needed to serve him to spend eternity in heaven with him. Over the years since my four year old heart was knit back together, God has healed my heart time and time again; now in spiritual places. I have been taught now of the potential of my own sinful nature to bring a living and then an eternal death to me. I understand now that the blood of Christ provided the life that I could not gain on my own. I have only begun to grasp what manner of love this is.
So that is my salvation story, not very exciting, is it? Not rescued from drugs or prostitution. No, just a four year old little girl who walked into a church one evening with her parents. Just a simple life kissed by Christ.
Sunday, January 04, 2009
Salvation
January 4, 2008
Friday, January 02, 2009
Sending My Regrets
When the offering plate passes or money is being collected for a cause, my goal of money in the bank closes my fist. However, to avoid regret I pry open my fingers. And I never regret the money I've given away.
On Christmas Eve I asked the Mr. if I should make Mexican Wedding Cake (our traditional Eve dessert) since we had baked so much. Then I went ahead and made it, didn't want to regret breaking with tradition or having daboyz ask where it was. I regret it when my jeans won't snap so I avoid pigging out (theoretically). The accomplishment of weight control happens in the process.
I don't want to regret shooting off my mouth, withholding forgiveness or letting an entire summer pass without eating fresh tomatoes. I don't want to regret not taking pictures once it's too late, I'd rather have boxes of a million photographs no one ever looks at. I don't want to regret hanging up the phone with the Mr. or Daboyz and not saying, "I love you." I don't want to regret not picking up the house when someone unexpectedly knocks on the door.
More than worrying about the not-dones on the life list, I hate the feeling of regret. Regret means I cannot change it, I can only try to mend it. And maybe I can't even do that.
With age comes wisdom (I made that up) so if there is an upside to middle age it is that I've made enough blunders to know I don't like the feeling of messing up.
Sometimes the Holy Spirit whispers, "do or don't do...you'll live to regret it."
I am learning to listen.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
The Year of Hope
Let us hold fast the profession of our faith without wavering; (for he is faithful that promised;) And let us consider one another to provoke unto love and to good works: Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as the manner of some is; but exhorting one another: and so much the more, as ye see the day approaching.