caroline holzberger

Keepin' it real about motherhood, Jesus, life, and everything in between.

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"But I The Only One"

School Holidays. Fun, aren’t they? For some, yes. For others, no. For me, it really just depends. You see, we are a house divided. No, I don’t mean that I cheer for the Longhorns and my man cheers for the Aggies. We are far cooler than that, Go Tech! What I mean is that my kiddos attend school in one school district and my husband works in a different one. So, if it happens to be that there is a random holiday approaching, like Flag Day or Columbus Day, I have to check the calendars to see if this will be a joyous holiday or not. 
This time, it is not. 
For some reason, the school district my husband works for has decided that the staff didn’t need any sort of break whatsoever, yet the students would receive both Friday and Monday off. Clearly I am not bitter. So, here we are, as a family, not being able to enjoy the only main perk of working in education – scheduled time off together. 
I, however was excited to get to have a day with just me and my kids. I was even more excited that I was feeling well enough to endure handle such a day. Granted, my kids are inching their way ever so slowly toward independence and so I can, for the most part, just sit back and watch them play for a little while. Key words, for a little while.
Today, we are recovering from the torrential downpour we received over the last few days. Thankful, for sure, but muddy all the same. I am in no way one of those moms who can’t handle my kids being dirty. I am all for it. We live on about an acre of land and are surrounded by trees everywhere, so I am all for my kiddos going out there and just having a ball with sticks and mud and bugs. Oh my!
 
They loved it. They had their “play clothes” on and just had a blast jumping on the wet trampoline, playing baseball, pretending to be spies, and digging in the dirt. Yes, this sounds like “boy stuff” to some, but I guarantee my little Ms. Darling was right there in the middle of it with her big “brudas”.
The morning was lovely. Cool breeze. Partly cloudy sky. Perfect. 
After resting and watching them play, I was able to make lunch and then hang out a bit more before naptime.  Now, I have heard fables of people whose children nap well past the age of three. I believe in that about as much as I believe in unicorns. It ain’t true.
My darling baby girl, who is two-and-a-half, going on sixteen and has been telling people that since before she turned two, was having the most fun of all. Whichever way her big “brudas” were going, you were bound to see her little pink self following just behind. She flipped with them on the trampoline. She chased the bad guys away as a secret spy. She even squished right between them to each her lunch. But, then it was naptime.
The time of day when, once again, we are a house divided. In our house, there are two groups of people. One, those who nap…and two, those who don’t nap. Ok, I’m adding a third group…three, those who wish they could nap, aka, ME! 

So, as the boys were asking if they could turn on the hose and turn this whole digging in the dirt thing into a mud-ball fight, I was announcing to sister-friend that is was “night-night” time. This went over like the plague. She. Wasn’t. Havin’. It.
Normally, it is tough enough to have to leave the crowd and go nap. But, today? Today, the day filled with outdoor fun and dirt and playing? No way. No how. 
She pitched a flat out royal fit. Like, a real one you see those “other” kids throw in the middle of Target when Mama walks right past the dollar bin without stopping. This was that type of fit. 
We have very little tolerance in the Holzberger household for fit-throwing. 
My kids know –
Me: “What is that fussing gonna get you?”
Them: “Nothin’”
Me: “That’s right, say it again.”
Them: “Fussin’ gets ya nothin’”
But, she wouldn’t hear of it. She didn’t care. I even had to bring up the dreaded “Sassy Spray” option. This is simply a spray bottle with vinegar diluted a bit with water and sprayed in the mouth when a bad word comes out or extreme fussing and yuckiness. Don’t judge, it works!
She finally calmed down a bit and said, through big crocodile tears, as I carried her upside down into the house, 
“But, I the only one!”
Bam! God’s loving 2×4 to my head. I realized friend, that I am waaay past due for some Sassy Spray. 
Can you relate? 
Do you have times where you feel like you are the only one dealing with a thing?
You’ve worked at the company for ten years and some other cuter, thinner chick comes in and her productivity numbers blow yours out of the water. She gets the bonus. You get the shaft. Again. You go back to your cubicle and realize you really are the only one. 
You’ve been single for about 34 years longer than you would have liked to be, and your fellow 25-year-old single friend met who the man of her dreams last month calls you up to tell you the good news, “I’m engaged!” You go buy a carton of Blue Bell ice cream and realize you really are the only one. 
Whether it be your waistline versus her size four pants. Or your scrimping budget vs. her newly remodeled home.
It doesn’t matter. You feel like you are the only one having to deal with this junk.
The enemy loves it when we think that way, friend. But, I’m here to tell you that it just ain’t true. Whenever you start drowning in the pool of selfish thinking, the enemy wins. 
Here is your life preserver friend – YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE! 
I’m not even talking about the huge scheme of things like world hunger and epidemic disease. I am talking about even just looking in your very own neighborhood. I can almost guarantee you that you are not the only one. Maybe none of you reading know what it’s like to be like me and have to lie down on your couch for week after week or month after month as the world spins around just fine without you I it. But, I bet you know pain. I bet you know loss. I bet you know more disappointment that you would care to admit. 
The Bible says that Satan, our enemy, comes ONLY to “steal, kill, and destroy”. (John 10:10) That is what he is here for. He will steal your trust by replacing it with fear. He will kill your dreams but convincing you they won’t happen. He will destroy your self-image with every magazine cover you walk by. It is what he does, people.
Let’s stop this, shall we? Let’s stick to the Truth that we know. God has a plan for us. (Jer. 29:11) He will never leave us. (Hebrews 13:5) No temptation we face is new. (1 Cor. 10:13) And He actually finds joy in you! (Zeph. 3:17) He loves us so much that He guarantees that nothing can separate us from his love. (Romans 8:35-39)
This is true. That other junk is nonsense.
Before we get too caught up in a grown up fit, let’s stop and choose to be thankful. Yes, be thankful in all circumstances (1 Thess. 5:8) and for all things. (Eph. 5:20) Trust me, it ain’t easy…but He never said it would be. (John 16:33)
Don’t lose hope. (1 Peter 1:13) We can do it with God’s help. (Phil. 4:13) And we can do it without earning us some Sassy Spray, too! 
Try not to get caught up in your own little world. Great song to enjoy by Matthew West – “My Own Little World”

My prayer for you today…

Romans 15:13 “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”

99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall…

Many many, many, many moons ago, when I was in the sixth grade, I had a wonderful and quirky social studies teacher named Coach Adams. He was fun, he genuinely liked middle school kids, and he was a coach and I was an athlete, so we got along well. He was, however, my first true experience with someone with a dry sense of humor. And when I mean dry, I mean desert-seems-like-a-refreshing-place kind of dry. This took some getting used to, but eventually we got along once I realized he really was just teasing most of the time. I remember absolutely nothing very little from his class, as is evident from my World War XVII confessions. What I do remember is that every single day, he began the class by forcing us asking us to complete the following sentence by a man and great coach he admired, John Wooden. Coach Adams would let us know class was beginning by saying “Of all the laws of learning…” and we, as a class would say in unison with utter boredom in our voices “…repetition is the most important.”
Clearly, he was right. I don’t know anything from 6th grade social studies, but twenty-five years later, I can still remember that quote we recited every single day. Repetition can be a great thing. 
Or, it can annoy you to no end. For instance, the title of this post is a perfect example of something that can drive one bonkers. And why people choose to follow this tradition while stuck for hours on end in a car, I will never understand. 
The phrase “Put your shoes away.” or “Don’t pick your nose.” seem to have been repeated out of my mouth roughly thirty thousand times quite a bit over the last seven years of my life as a Mom…yet as I type at this very moment, I am looking at two separate pairs of shoes on the floor of my living room, and although my three sweet kiddos are all at school right now insert Hallelujah chorus here I can say with near certainty that one of, if not all of, their teachers have said that exact phrase to them this very morning. 
Now, granted, some things are worth repeating. Movies for instance. There are a handful of movies, that, if they come on TV on some random Saturday afternoon, I will watch them again, and again, and again. Do you have some like that? The ones I can think of off the top of my head are “The Wedding Singer”, “Can’t Buy Me Love”, “The Thomas Crown Affair” and probably holding the number one spot is “National Treasure”. Have you seen that last one? It was set in then-current day 2004, and it stars Nicholas Cage sporting some awful hair plugs and he and his many of his family from generations past have spent a great deal of time searching for a buried treasure. I am pretty sure I learned more about U.S. history from that movie than I did from school. Sad, I know. Anyway…there is one point in the movie where they are holding the actual Declaration of Independence and trying to see if there is a treasure map on the back of it. They are running from the proverbial “bad guys”, (who happen to have a British accent, so clever!) and have hidden out in the Signing Room at Liberty Hall. This was the actual room where our forefathers stood when they lined up to sign this document that would forever change the future of our country. So, here is Nicholas Cage reading this document that has been repeated over and over in speeches and book reports for hundreds of years. He carefully holds it in his hands and then abruptly stops. Shuddering a bit, he has a “moment”. When asked what is wrong, he replies, “Whoa. The last time this document was here in this room, it was being signed.”
I don’t even care much about history and that moment of the movie gets me every time. To think that the very document you are holding in your hand and reading was read aloud hundreds of years ago is truly something.
This got me thinking about my recent PAW time post this week. One of my favorite things about praise and worship is that so often, song writers use Scripture to fill their song with Truth. This, friend, is a blessing. 
Because, not only are you encouraged by these song writer’s words, but most importantly, you are being lifted up by the very words of our Holy Bible. And while I am pretty sure that the apostle Paul wasn’t carrying around my bright pink pleather pocket-sized NIV Bible…it is the same Truth all the same.  And this Truth isn’t just a few hundred years old, it is thousands of years old.  This truth doesn’t set you free from measely ol’ Britian…it sets you free for eternity from the enemy of your soul. And it is just as true today as I read it from several different version of the Bible I read on the internet as it was when it was etched in stone or hand copied onto vellum. Now, that is truly powerful. 
So, as we continue this week of praising, let us focus on songs that carry in them some of the foundation truths we so desperately need to stand upon. And take a minute to truly stop and enjoy your own “moment”…because these very words have been sung for thousands of years and will continue to be sung from the mouths of men and angels forever. It just doesn’t get more powerful than that!
Revelation song by Philips, Craig and Dean 
Isaiah 6 In a loud voice they sang: “Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!” 
Rev 5:12 Each of the four living creatures had six wings and was covered with eyes all around, even under his wings. Day and night they never stop saying: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come.” Rev. 4:8

Hallelujah by Heather Williams

I found this lovely information when researching. Enjoy!

Alleluia . . . Alleluia . . . Alleluia: This wonderful word, borrowed from Hebrew, occurs four times in Revelation 19, but nowhere else in the New Testament. It belongs here – because God’s people rejoice without restraint at His victory over Babylon.
Alleluia is Hebrew for “Praise the Lord,” saying it in the imperative sense. It is an encouragement and an exhortation to Praise the Lord!
Some seem afraid of saying Alleluia, but we’ll all be saying it in heaven. It’s such a wonderful word that we should never use it without thinking.

Hosanna – Hillsong United 
Whew, this one gets me every single time! People actually said this to Jesus’ face days before the crucified him. Wow.
The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” “Hosanna in the highest!” Matthew 21:9
And a song I have grown to love because if reminds me of a verse I memorized so long ago. It is frequently quoted and so, obviously repeated often. And for good reason. 
Strong Enough by Matthew West
Phillipians 4:13 “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.”
And lastly, enjoy this quote by the great theologian Charles Spurgeon. Re-read it a few times. It is powerful! 
“We ought not to worship God in a half-hearted sort of way; as if it were now our duty to bless God, but we felt it to be a weary business, and we would get it through as quickly as we could, and have done with it; and the sooner the better. No, no; ‘All that is within me, bless his holy name.’ Come, my heart, wake up, and summon all the powers which wait upon thee! Mechanical worship is easy, but worthless. Come rouse yourself, my brother! Rouse thyself, O my own soul!” (Spurgeon)

PAW time

Hello everyone, my name is Pele. You may know me as something different, but for ten years of my life (and even still) there are a handful of precious people that will probably always call me Pele. You see, I had the unique privilege to work at a Christian camp back in the day that truly impacted my life in ways I’m sure I’m not even aware of. When you became a counselor at this camp, you were asked to come up with a “camp name” to be called, instead of your real name. So, since I was a super stud pretty good at soccer, I chose the name Pele, after one of the greatest soccer players ever. My precious camp, Camp El Har (meaning “God’s hill” in Hebrew), was and still is such a dear place to me. It wasn’t a huge camp or a trendy camp. It didn’t pack all the coolest kids into its gates each year because of its popularity. It was, instead, a smaller, more homegrown type of camp. It was nestled among the acres of land near the popular Boy Scout camp, Camp Wisdom, just 15 minutes south of downtown Dallas. The ministry was genuine and so were the people.  I was seventeen my very first summer there, and I stuck with it through college, engagement (that actually happened in a skit at camp!), marriage, school teaching, pregnancy, and having a baby. It truly touched my life in countless ways. 
One of my favorite things about camp was PAW time. What in the world is that?, You may be wondering. PAW was the shorthand way of saying “Praise and Worship” time. Now, as a counselor, I loved being able to dance around to silly songs like “Arky, Arky” and “Sandy Land”, with a little bit of the good ol’ DC Talk classic “Lean on Me” thrown in to keep our sanity We had a flat out blast! As a director, I got more used to planning out the schedules for the day camp and overnight camp and making sure we got plenty of PAW time in each day. Oh the late night Sonic runs to keep us all sugared up while we tried to ensure  there weren’t too many kids in canoeing for third activity. (Canoeing is such a funny word! O-then-E then I, what is that about? That was for you my dear Flash!) 🙂
I’m not sure about you, but PAW time has always been pretty special to me. I love music. I was a solid alto singer in my high school choir as long I stood by my best friend who darn near had perfect pitch. But, you weren’t gonna see me signing up for any solos, that’s for sure. Trust me, you should be thankful for that one. But, I did love to sing. And I still do. I rock out in my minivan at the top of my lungs, and I contemplate American Idol auditions in my shower where the acoustics make my voice sound pretty amazing. Trust me, it’s just the shower working its magic there. Regardless, whether it is on stage in the camp’s tabernacle or driving down the road – I just love to sing. 
During the past few years of my constant FOB time, I have had a whole lot of time to do a whole lot of nothing. I spent waaaay too much some time watching HGTV. I talk on the phone. I email and check facebook. I do a lot of independent Bible study, which helps keep my heart and mind in the right place with all of this medical drama. But, most of all, throughout the day, I just praise. I don’t do well with quiet, really. And I definitely don’t do well with “down time” either. So this God-orchestrated and at times, myself-resisted, FOB time has been quite an adjustment for a once busy chick. But, I’ll tell you what, friend…God has blessed this time a hundred times over. I have a channel on my TV that just plays “Contemporary” Christian music all day. Sometimes, the “contemporary”-ness of it is likely to be debated between myself and an 85-year-old, but generally, most of the music is very current. It is awesome! I literally cannot count the number of times that I have been sad, or depressed, or angry, or confused and God has brought the perfect song on at the perfect time! I mean it. I have literally looked up at my popcorn ceilings and said “Wow, thank you God for this song right now! You knew I needed this!” Then I turn up the volume and just rock out praising to my God. It relieves sadness. It displaces fear. It strengthens faith. It helps me to be able to lie here hour after hour and day after day.
So sweet friend, throughout this week, I want to share with you the many ways God has blessed me through this PAW time. I encourage you to find time all throughout your day to turn the volume up, READ the lyrics, and simply rock out! May you and I be richly blessed, and more importantly, may our God be extravagantly glorified!
Friend, this very well may be my anthem. Our God by Chris Tomlin
Romans 8:31-21 “What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all–how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?”
Joshua 4:24 “He did this so that all the peoples of the earth might know that the hand of the LORD is powerful and so that you might always fear the LORD your God.”
Oooh, I don’t know about you, but when I am currently traveling through some wilderness times, I need to rest on this truth shown in the song Stronger by Mandisa.
Philippians 1:6 “being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”
James 1:2-4 “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”
1 Peter 1:6-7 “In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith–of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire–may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.”
And lastly for now, let us focus on all He is to us! I cry about every time I sing this one! Your Great Name by Natalie Grant
Psalm 99:3 “Let them praise your great and awesome name–he is holy.”
Jeremiah 10:6 “No one is like you, O LORD; you are great, and your name is mighty in power.”
Psalm 148:13 “Let them praise the name of the LORD, for his name alone is exalted; his splendor is above the earth and the heavens.”
Romans 14:11 “It is written: “‘As surely as I live,’ says the Lord, ‘every knee will bow before me; every tongue will confess to God.'”
That’s all for now…but this post is to be continued…

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World War XVII

I must admit to you that I am not much of a history buff. Ok, that very well may be the understatement of the century. I often slept through never cared much for that class. English was fun for me, because it often involved writing and talking, two things I loved to do especially the latter. Math was fun because my brain worked well with Math and it gave me something to have in common with my Dad when I visited there every other weekend. But, history, not so much. Whether it is World History, Texas History and U.S. history, it doesn’t really matter. I am an equal opportunity un-enthusiast. And while I’m at it, I pretty much lump geography, government, economics, and all of that other like-minded stuff into that same “not-so-much-my-favorite” category.
            Throughout school I was in all honors classes. It is just what I did. I was, however, the very laziest A and B student you could ever meet. I did the absolute least amount of work that required the absolute least amount of effort that I possibly could, in order to get a 79.6 (which would round up to an 80) and I wouldn’t get grounded. My social calendar and precious phone time was far more important that my educational work ethic.
And, while this applies to all subjects, it was especially true for all of the subjects listed above. I made it through the classes, but mostly by the skin of my teeth partnered with my added charm to persuade my teacher’s for extra credit by the heap full. I once thought it would be funny as a wise and “fully grown” adult to take the citizenship test that people must take to join our fine country. Let’s just say I’d be stuck in some other country for life had I not actually been born here. Thanks, Mom and Dad!
But, to go back to my schooling years…I got to my senior year of high school, seniors ’97 are da bome! Sorry, inside joke I’ll explain someday I had pretty much had it with this history stuff. I begged and pleaded with my parents to allow me to take regulars history instead of AP Government and Economics. I mean, let’s face it, I wasn’t going to be running for office or pursuing a career in map-making. And, after all, I could name the president of the United States and count my allowance money pretty well, so I was good. After annoying them to no end politely asking them to hear me out “You guys don’t ever listen to me, ever!” they allowed me to, for the first time in my high school career, take a core subject class that wasn’t honors. Wahooo, party time! And it was. All the “cool kids” that I’d never really had any classes with were in my new World Geography class, i.e. “Advanced Map Coloring” taught by one of the “lesser academically motivated” football coaches. I was golden.
Don’t worry, friend, as is the case in most of these kind of stories, all of this slacking off eventually caught up with me; and then some. My lack of educational motivation, poor work ethic, and completely non-existent lazy study habits caught up with me by my very first semester of college. It didn’t help that that was the very same semester I met and quickly fell in love with my now husband, Ryan. Man, I was ga-ga for him from day one. But, this was also when I discovered the great college epiphany #1. I didn’t actually have to go to class. “No, seriously,” I told my best friend who attended a very small Christian college, “They don’t even take roll! This is greatness!!”
Until mid-terms. Then, great college epiphany #2 quickly followed; if you don’t actually go to class, you don’t really learn much about that class. What is that called, the law of proximity maybe? Who knows? I bet they taught that in AP Government. I received, on my very first college “report card” three C’s and one D. That’s right, a D. That is a college-fancy way to say you failed, don’t get credit, and you basically paid us a bunch of money for nothing. Lovely. As if that wasn’t bad enough, friend, the D was in Speech. I don’t know how long you have known me, or if you even do know me, but if you have read any of my incredibly long blogs before, you should know that I’m not exactly one of those kind of people who lack for words. Ever.
My parents almost sold me into slavery were less than pleased. In fact, although I have tried to block the memory out, I vaguely remember by 6’4” father picking me up slightly off the floor by my shirt and saying “Three C’s and a D!?! And the D is in what??…SPEECH!?!? You have been talking since you were two years old and you haven’t shut up since, how the heck or something like that did you get a D in speech?” He proceeded to inform me that his hard-earned money would not be paying for me to go to college and just have fun. If I didn’t bring my grades up to A’s and B’s, where they belong, by the next semester, then not only would he no longer pay for my college, but I would also pay him back, with interest, for the money he’d wasted so far.
Friend, I believed him. My Dad wasn’t really known for messing around.
I saw the proverbial light that Christmas break. I went back to school that next semester and worked my stinkin’ tail off. I learned how to take good notes. I studied harder than I ever had before not a difficult task to do. I even went to class. Congratu-stinkin-lations. Over the next four-and-a-half years, I received straight A’s, maybe two or three B’s and one C (in some history class, no doubt). I went from academic probation to graduating Magna Cum Laude with a 3.9 average. I had changed.
Now, in the spirit of full disclosure, I feel inclined to tell you that I still do not necessarily like history. I must admit that as a grown-up, I have had like maybe three times where my T.V. has gotten stuck on the History Channel and I’ve found myself intrigued by the stories of people behind the scenes. The relationships, the family ties, and the heroism that the narrator on the show describes, makes it sound so fascinating. Sometimes, it grabs me. I wish I had had a teacher like that in school that made learning about history so fun! But, alas, I didn’t, not sure how much that would have changed me and so I am now left to being the idiot woman who can’t list the names of the Axis vs. Allies countries at all. I honestly don’t know which side we were even on. I’m thinking Allies though. Or at least I hope so, it sounds much friendlier. Which is obviously very important in a war and all.
I don’t know details about the Civil war.
I cannot recite for you a single line from the Declaration of Independence. Wait, is that We the People of the United States of America one? Shoot, I’m gonna have to look that up.
I can’t label but about 10 of the states in our country on a map. Not the world, our country. Sigh.
            I can’t say, exactly, why we got involved in World wars I or II.
But, friend, I just want to be clear, that doesn’t mean I don’t know anything about history or war. I know what I’ve been through; my history. And I have been in battle, time and time again. Unfortunately, I know it very well.
Whether you know it or not, friend, you and I absolutely have an enemy. “Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.” (1 Peter 5:8)
And we are absolutely battling through a war right now.
“But I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members.” (Romans 7:23)
“Dear friends, I urge you, as aliens and strangers in the world, to abstain from sinful desires, which war against your soul.” (1 Peter 2:11)
You may not feel like “sin” wages war against you much. Well, that must be nice friend, but I can’t say the same thing. I deal with some serious stuff, like worry (yes, that is a sin!) pride, envy, having a judgmental heart…the list goes on and on and on and on, but hopefully that’s enough of my list to show you that this is for real. During certain times in my life, it seems these some of these different sins flare up and are more difficult to fight against than others are. Can you relate? Do you ever feel like you are constantly up against it? Like the world, and everything in it is just working against you to make your once blessed life, miserable. Trouble at work. Deep hurt within your family. Medical crisis. Financial crisis. Depression. Anxiety. Name it. You can almost hear the canons blasting before you even get out of bed each morning. Friend, welcome to my world.
            I have been battling medical drama for going on four years now. I am only 32 years old, so that is an eighth of my life. Math nerd alert. Math nerd alert. And with the medical roller coaster I have been whipping around on for so long now, I have developed a very un-healthy sense of fear and dread.
            Am I going to die young?
            What are the doctors missing?
            Am I ever really going to be well again?
            The fear and worry seems to subside during healthier seasons, but quickly shoot themselves back into the forefront when medical drama creeps back in. Can you relate to this at all? Do you have something in your own personal life that rears its ugly head when you are already feeling down and out? Friend, that is the enemy and his relentless attacks. Talk about kickin’ you when you’re down. That’s his specialty. He knows our weaknesses, our vulnerabilities, our fears and our insecurities. He knows what buttons to push and the exact moment to push them. But, friend, please listen to me – I know God is allowing this for a heavenly reason. I fully believe He is working out my “faith muscles” I should look like a bodybuilder after all this working out! in order to truly grow a sold-out heart to Him. A heart that truly trusts Him. A heart that believes the promises of Truth in His Word. A heart that desires His will above my own. That last one gets me sometimes. I like my will. I’m attached to it. But, I gotta let it go.
But, friend, it ain’t easy. Just last night…as I lay there staring at the checkerboard ceilings of yet another stinkin’ hospital…the enemy was raring to go and throw sinful, worrisome thoughts in my head.
See, I told you weren’t going to get well.
I bet the doctors don’t catch this one in time.
Your kids sure are going to miss their Mom.
I bet Ryan’s next wife is skinny, cute, and fun at parties! I know, I’m a mess!
                You may be sitting there thinking “I had no idea she was this bad.” I hope you aren’t thinking that. My exaggerated and unhealthy desire for everyone to like me is scared of that. But, friend, I gotta keep it real. It is only then, that I can truly be open and point to God and all He’s done and continues to do. You also may be thinking that I should have it together by now. I’ve been through this enough that surely I should be able to handle this better. You are right. But, God has brought me light years further than I was just a few short years ago. That’s totally His work, not mine.
I read a quote last week when I was researching for the blog “Walking Funny” and I think it is worth mentioning again here. David Guzik said “Many of us think that real Christian maturity is when we come to a place where we are somewhat “independent” of God. The idea is that we have our act so together that we don’t need to rely of God so much day to day, moment to moment. This isn’t Christian maturity at all. God deliberately engineered debilitating circumstances into Paul’s life so he would be in constant, total dependence on God’s grace and God’s strength. Many harbor a longing for the day when the Christian life will become “easy.” We hope for a time when the major struggles with sin are behind us, and now we go on to bigger and better things without much of a struggle. That day is an illusion. If the apostle Paul himself constantly experienced weakness, who are we to think that we will surpass him?”
Amen to that!
So, what should we do? How can you and I defeat this enemy of ours that is always out to get us? How do we deal with our sins each time they surface? Friend, we can be prepared for battle.
“Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.” Ephesians 6:11-17
Two times in that short group of verses, Paul tells us to put on the FULL armor of God. I always assume that if God tells us something more than once in Scripture it is because He knows our dumb selves and knows occasionally ok, almost always we need a good reminding. (Which reminds me, that the Bible says “Fear not, or do not fear” 365 times – that’s right, one for every day of the year!) And, while you could spend weeks and weeks studying just these short amount of verses above, (which I encourage you to do!) I will try to briefly describe some of the highlights I cling to.
This armor is purposeful. Each piece is used to protect and defend the person being attacked. Please note that this doesn’t say we need this armor if the enemy attacks, it tells us to be ready, he will attack!
The belt is mentioned as truth. My dear sweet friend spoke at a women’s dinner years ago, for an hour all about how just this one piece of armor is so vital. Belts hold everything else up! Your belt doesn’t work, your pants will fall. You will be vulnerable. So, be aware of truth and pull that tightly around you! Don’t be led by your feelings, other’s opinions (I’m talking to myself there!) – all of this is un-truth. Stick to what God tells you!
The breastplate of righteousness is protecting one of the most vital organs of your body – your heart. Self-righteousness will not get you there. The world’s version of “right-ness” won’t get you there. Your heart will only become more wounded, more jaded, more hardened.
The shoes of peace. Let’s be honest, we women love a good pair of shoes. Well, friend, I assure you these peace shoes are far better and more valuable than any with a red sole. In the heat of battle, there are few things of God that are more precious than that of having His peace. My life verse reminds us of just that. The Amplified Bible puts my life verse this way, “Do not fret or have any anxiety about anything, but in every circumstance and in everything, by prayer and petition (definite requests), with thanksgiving, continue to make your wants known to God. And God’s peace [shall be yours, that tranquil state of a soul assured of its salvation through Christ, and so fearing nothing from God and being content with its earthly lot of whatever sort that is, that peace] which transcends all understanding shall garrison and mount guard over your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippains 4:6-7) Oh how I desire to be content with my earthly lot! I also love that the original Greek word for “guard” is phroureo, which means “to guard, protect by a military guard, either to prevent hostile invasion, or to keep the inhabitants of a besieged city from flight” LOVE THAT! God’s peace guards us from outside attacks and from our inside selves fleeing from Him. Thank you, Lord!
We must hold up the shield of faith. Once again, not to be ready if the enemy slings one arrow, but when he fires away all the flaming arrows he loves to shoot. Our faith is what shields us from his ultimate attack, which is the hope he has for us to spend eternity with him in hell. Get your shields of faith up, friend. I know they may be heavy sometimes, but they are crucial to our defense.
The helmet of salvation also guards the other major vital organ; our brain. I believe this applies to our thoughts too. The truth of our salvation guards our wandering mind. As my pastor says, “None of us are getting out of this thing alive.” The truth of our salvation binds and protects our thoughts from going astray and losing focus as to why we are here.
Lastly, I have a question for you, friend…did you notice the only offensive weapon mentioned?? All these so far have been for the purpose of defending ourselves. Did you notice? Or maybe you’ve heard this before. I remember the first time I was told this, it changed my perspective on this battle completely. The only offensive weapon mentioned is the sword of the spirit, or the Word of God. I’m going to go out a limb here and assume you haven’t ever fought with a sword. Me neither. But, I’ve seen Braveheart and that’s a pretty intense type of fighting. Modern warfare has come up with many sophisticated weaponry to protect the fighters from having to get close to their enemy. Bows and arrows, guns, canons, grenades, and nowadays, even computerized missiles that can be programmed to wipe out your enemy half way around the world. But, this weapon, our weapon, while fierce, is meant for hand to hand combat. Quoting His Truth in Scripture, memorizing it, singing about it in praise songs, writing it on paper and posting it around your house – all of these swipes with The Sword do serious damage to our enemy. James 4:7 tells us that if we “Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” Period.

            War isn’t pretty. I was watching a show on the history channel lately I can count on one finger the number of times I’ve ever said that and it talked about the devastation that the Civil War had on the South. The land, the buildings, the morale, all of it were devastated and destroyed. I can relate to that. I have sustained quite a few battle wounds over the years from this war I’ve been in.

Having to stop nursing two of my three children before I was ready because of hospitalization and the affects it had on my body.

Being told I shouldn’t have any more children because of all the trauma my body’s been through.

My husband’s stress level skyrocketing because of him having to be Mom and Dad for months at a time, year after year.

The guilt that come so easily from feeling I’ve “caused” this burden to my friends and family.

Tens of thousands upon tens of thousands of dollars spent on medical bills coming from an already pinched one-income salary.

My baby girl realizing mommy can’t pick her up and hold her, so she just stopped putting her arms up for me altogether.

My sons being nervous about their anyone’s health, even when minor, after seeing mama’s go up and down.

Seeing my once active and athletic body gain a great amount of weight and lose a great amount of strength…and the body image issues that come along with that.

My children coming to terms that Mommy “can’t” and “shouldn’t” do so many fun things and so therefore we, as a family miss out.

Missing my oldest’s birthday because I was in the hospital again.

Losing friendships with people I really care about, because honestly I think it’s just too hard to be good friends with the always-sick girl.

My friend, these wounds hurt. They left scars. Some bigger than others, but scars all the same. But, I can tell you with full honesty that they have grown my faith in ways that never could have been accomplished otherwise. I count myself blessed, like James encourages us in his book. In fact, he can barely get past greeting his pals in verse one, before he reminds us to (James 1:2-4) “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” Not lacking anything. Amen to that.

If you’re a reader (which I am generally not but have slowly but surely gotten closer to becoming one), I strongly recommend that you check out Joyce Meyer’s book, “Battlefield of the Mind”. It is truly chock-full of Scripture you can stand firmly upon. She talks all about so many different battles we fight, simply with our thoughts. And of course, as I heard quoted just last week in the sermon at church, “Thought is the father of deed.”
My dear friend, as difficult as it was for me to share so openly about my sins and they are many! I feel blessed that you stuck with me. I feel honored that you read what He says through me. I feel thankful that He continues to trust me with his message. I’m just holding on for dear life here, trying not to screw the whole thing up.
So, let’s make sure that armor is on. We can do this. And even when it seems like we can’t do this; He can. “For nothing is impossible with God.” (Luke 1:37)
By the way, I feel pressured and reluctant want to share what I looked up about “We the people of the United States”. It is the first part of the United States Constitution, not the Declaration of Independence. Aren’t they the same thing? NO. They are not the same. I totally wish I knew that. The Declaration of Independence broke our nation’s tie with Great Britain. It was a declaration of our Independence. The Constitution was the document that followed. It set our rule of government and how our nation would function. Yes, that’s a direct quote from the internet. Dangit, it’s official. I’m an idiot. And now you all fully know it. Please still love me.

Walking Funny


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Ok, so I am about to make a pretty embarrassing confession to you. Most people would be completely embarrassed by it, but I am more than completely only a little embarrassed about it. Are you ready?
I
have
ugly
feet.
That’s right, when you look at my outward appearance, you may think “Hey, she’s not bad lookin’.” But, when you get down to the bottom – all the way to the feet region, just trust me – it ain’t pretty. My husband who thinks he’s so funny has been known to tease me relentlessly a little. “Ya know babe,” he teases, “if I had actually taken a good look at those feet, I may not have married you for fear of procreating with you and passing that on.” Ha. Such a funny man. Hope the couch is comfy tonight, Mr. funny man.
Funny, but true. I will spare you the details since I am stupidly announcing this to the world as to the exact reasons for this beauty impediment for me. Ya, I meant to do that! He, he. But, just trust me on this one. So, along with the ugliness, I also have a terrible habit of picking at my feet. I know, I know, now we’ve moved from ugly to flat out gross, but just stick with me.
The backs of my heels are awful thanks to my subconscious picking. It’s really bad! And the reason I am sharing this with you is because, believe it or not, God actually spoke to me through my funktified heels. I know, I’m such a weirdo.
I had messed with my feet so much that the injuries actually spread to the underside of my heel. Are there any women out there that can relate to the pain I have been feeling? Due to the wounds I have inflicted upon myself, it felt as though someone was shoving a stinkin’ 6 inch thorn in my heel every single time I put weight on my right foot.
So, what did I do? Did I cover the wound with healing aid creams or wrap it with gauze so that the cushioning would help? Nope. I just changed the way I walked. I actually started walking with every right step up on my tippy toes. Great. Now, not only do I have ugly feet, but I now I walk funny too. Wonderful.
After a few days of this annoyance and embarrassment, I decided to try and “tough it out” and just put my full weight on my heel when I walk. I’m a big girl. I can do this. That lasted about 3 ½ steps. It was brutal.
I thought to myself, This is ridiculous! I can’t believe I’ve let this wound change the way I walk!
Bam! God’s loving and sovereign 2×4 to my head.
Oh how I do this in life, friend.
Do you?
We are all wounded. Whether it be mental, emotional, spiritual, or physical…or even worse like yours truly and the answer is – E: all of the above. I can be a basketcase sometimes.
Maybe you suffer from depression. You know what it’s like to walk around in a dark and filmy funk that feels like an excruciating weight that you just can’t get free of.
Perhaps your struggle is anxiety. You have such extreme moments of intense worry that it change the way you act, think, and interact with others. You just aren’t you.
Or maybe you have a chronic illness that has latched onto your life without your stinkin’ permission. So, the cheerful memories of yesterday are clouded by the constant pain that is today and will be tomorrow.
Business failure after business failure… failed relationship after failed relationship…emotional drama in your family that makes General Hospital seem like Leave it to Beaver… whatever it is, friend – it has caused a wound. Are you walking funny?
I’ve had days where I look like a flat out moron with my funny walkin’. But, at least now, thanks to God’s loving re-re-re-direction, I have been strengthened by His Truth.
God used the apostle Paul to stand alongside me these last days and weeks of my funky walk. Paul, the man who used to do everything he could to kill those who loved God. The Bible said Saul did all he could to “breathe out murderous threats against the Lord’s disciples”. Yikes! Yes, friend, this guy had the biggest 2×4 moment your little brain can imagine on the road to Damascus. (Acts 9) So much so, that God changed the man’s name. Further proof that God doesn’t desire for us to associate ourselves with our former bondage. The persecutor, Saul, was now and forevermore the servant of God, Paul. And, his story has moved me.
Paul writes to the Corinthians about what he is going through and what he has gone through. He is open, honest and transparent. He doesn’t take credit for his success or his wisdom. He simply points to Christ. 
Period.
Oh, how I desire to be that way.
2 Corinthians 12:7-9 “To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But, He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”
Wow. Good stuff. Thank you, Paul.
There are so many different gems in this passage. I have spent a lot of time researching and digging deeper about this lately. Could you please go with me on this journey, friend? I think you will be glad you did.
First off, I love that God knows us best and loves us most. He absolutely knew that Paul had a history of being a cocky dude. He’d had to have been in order to persecute Christians so boldly – that takes an uber amount of confidence in oneself.
So, God gave him a thorn in his flesh. (Notice that Paul didn’t write that he was “afflicted” or “cursed” – this was given to him by the God he served!) Paul even referred to it as a messenger from Satan. That’s pretty intense. But, how can a gift from God also be a messenger of Satan? Simple. Our God is so great that He can even use the enemy and his evil desires as pawns moving around at HIS permission to ultimately bring Him glory. In the moment, this thorn in Paul’s flesh is awful, tough, even despairing – all things the enemy loves to bring to us – but ultimately, God gets the glory, because Paul continually returns to Him for strength, peace, and support. One of the commentaries I read put it this way, “This thorn was both a “messenger of Satan” and also given (ultimately by God) to Paul. Satan probably jumped at God’s permission to afflict Paul and did so with malice. But, God had a purpose in it all and allowed Satan’s messenger to successfully keep Paul being “exalted above measure”.
This, I can relate to for sure. Can you?
If left to my own demise, I could ride that “exalted beyond measure” plane all around the world a few times
You are looking at one frequent flyer here, baby.
And, I have been tormented by far worse that this pesky wound on my heel. I am, in fact, writing to you from my couch, once again again, again, again, again, again because of my medical drama, again! (Did I mention that this isn’t the first time!?) I have another spinal fluid leak (this is my fifth one in four years) and will face an excruciating procedure on Monday (my ninth one) that will hopefully fix it. The anxiety this has caused me over the years has been at some times annoying, and at other times, debilitating.
The word choice Paul used for this “thorn” in his flesh is skolops, which isn’t used to describe a splinter. It was more commonly used to describe a tent stake. Can you relate, friend, to walkin’ around with a tent stake shoved in your flesh. Ya, me to.
And this tent stake didn’t just annoy him a little. He said it tormented him. The original Greek word for torment (or buffeted) is kolaphizo, which means “to strike with a fist, give a blow with a fist, to maltreat with violence.” This isn’t some unrealistic fight scene from a Hollywood movie where the actors are wresting each other off ledges, punching each other full force and then beating one another over the head with iron crowbars repeatedly, only to receive a small, conveniently placed above the right eyebrow, kind of wound. Ya right. Who are they kidding? Just one of those blows to the head would cause serious brain damage. No, friend, this is the type of torment that has one guy holding you back while another guy kicks you in the teeth over and over until there are no more teeth to kick. This is for real.
Paul lived it. I’ve lived it. I wonder, sweet friend, if you’ve lived it.
One great theologian put it this way; “Perhaps you have looked into the face of a Christian who is always smiling, who never seems to have any worry, is always happy and radiant and, as you have thought about your own circumstances, you have said in your heart, ‘I wish I were he! He seems to have no problems. He doesn’t have to take what I do.’ But perhaps you have lived long enough, as I have, not know that sometimes the most radiant face hides great pressures, and often the man who is being most blessed of God is being most buffeted by the devil.”
So true. Do not get caught up in the “grass is always greener” world, friend – because when you get over there, you will flat out discover that it is Astroturf. It. Ain’t. Real.
And, no, I don’t recommend that we walk around with every emotion on our sleeve and no boundaries at all.
Grocery clerk: “How are you today, ma’am?”
I’ve-Almot-Lost-It-Girl: (bursting into tears) “My husband doesn’t love me, my kids hate me, my house was on last week “Hoarders” show and I have herpes.”
Grocery clerk: “Um, ok, do you want paper or plastic then?”
Yes, that isn’t healthy or productive or sane. Let’s not be that girl.
Instead let’s look at Paul, a spiritual giant. Here he is pleading with God to take this tent stake away. Now this, I can completely relate to. Modern mathematics cannot count the number of times I’ve pleaded with God to take away my illness, my anxieties, my pain. I’ve been face down, snot in the carpet, kind of ugly begging about it. Yet, from my couch, again, I type.
You may think it is “un-spiritual” to ask God for something over and over. I get that. But, can I please remind you about the garden of Gethsemane? Our Lord Himself pleaded three times for His Father to take this cup away from Him. Three times. So, I figure is He is God incarnate – the Word made flesh – perfect and without sin – and even He pleaded three times, I cut myself some slack for pleading a few thousand more times than that.
What matters though, is how Jesus ended that prayer. Mark 14:36 tells us His heart’s desire was “not my will, but yours be done.”
Not my will.
Not my will.
Not my will.
Amen to that.
I honestly believe that God cares more about your heart and your motives and your intentions than He does about your every particular action. Your actions can scream “not my will, but yours be done” all day long, but is your heart and mind screaming “PLEASE JUST DO MY WILL” inside where no one else can see? Ya, I’ve been there, too today.
God did not answer Paul’s plea the way Paul desired. But, friend, please hear me… that God most assuredly did answer. The commentary I read by David Guzik put it this way; “Paul was desperate in his desire to be relieved of this burden. But there are two ways of taking away a burden. It can be done by removing the load, or it can be done by strengthening the shoulder bearing the load. Instead of taking away the thorn, God would strengthen Paul under it, and God would show His strength through Paul’s apparent weakness.”
Wow.
I don’t think you and I can truly appreciate the sufficiency of God’s strength until we have been slapped across the face with the reality of the insufficiency of our own.
The great theologian, author, preacher, and early evangelist, Charles Spurgeon put it brilliantly; “Great tribulation brings out the great strength of God. If you never feel inward conflicts and sinking of soul, you do not know much of the upholding power of God; but if you go down, down, into the depths of soul-anguish till the deep threatens to shut her mouth upon you, and then the Lord rides upon a cherub and does fly, yea, rides upon the wings of the wind and delivers your soul, and catches you away to the third heaven of delight, then you perceive the majesty of divine grace. Oh, there must be the weakness of man, felt, recognized, and mourned over, or else the strength of the Son of God will never be perfected in us.”
Friend, this was written over a hundred years ago. Paul’s tormenting happened thousands of years ago. This is not new. We are not unique in our sufferings. In fact, Scripture promises us this (once again through the divinely inspired pen of my buddy, Paul) in 1 Corinthians 10:13 that “No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.”
People especially ones that are named ME often misunderstand this Scripture. As my beloved pastor puts it, “People think that becoming a Christian means that the rest of your life, you will be healthy, wealthy and wise. So, they want to give up on God when they face times when they are sick, broke, and dumb.”
Paul is telling us that we will not be tempted beyond what we can bear. Not that we won’t face things beyond what we can bear. Because, friend, I assure you that you can’t throw a rock in any direction and not hit someone who would say in full honesty that they have faced something that they felt was too heavy to bear. If you can’t find anyone, come my way and chunk your rock in my direction. I’ll tell you plenty more than you want to hear. We will continually face things we don’t feel like we can bear. But, the amazing and fantastic news is that we will never, and I do mean NEVER face anything to difficult for God. Ever.
Luke 1:37 says that “nothing is impossible with God.”
Nothing.
And this was said by an angel to a little teenage girl who just found out she would be giving birth to the Christ child. Talk about more than she could bear. I think if God could handle that through her, then He can handle my junk. Can I get an Amen?
So, my dear friend…although I do not know your specific wound, I do know what it is like to be wounded. I do know what it is like to look like a fool from changing the way I walk because of it. May your wounds and my wounds strengthen our walk, straighten our walk, and re-direct our walk on the path he has lovingly and divinely chosen for us. He can be trusted.
And while I am fully aware that this is already a very long post, I beg you to just stay with me. I want to leave you with some more wisdom from the research I’ve been doing. May these reflections on the Truth of God, the love of God, the faithfulness of God, and the strength of God nudge you all the more closely to putting your full faith in God. Not just for the salvation of your soul – but for the salvation of your each and every day. I love you, friend.
David Guzik writes: My grace is sufficient for you: You may emphasize any aspect of this you please.
i. “My grace is sufficient for you.” Grace is the favor and love of God in action. It means He loves us and is pleased by us. Can you hear it from God? “My love is enough for you.” Isn’t it true?
ii. “My grace is sufficient for you.” Whose grace is it? Jesus’ grace. Isn’t His love, His favor, enough? What will Jesus fail at? Remember to that Jesus suffered thorns. He cares. He knows.
iii. “My grace is sufficient for you.” It is right now. Not that it will be some day. Right now, at this moment, His grace is sufficient. You thought something had to change before His grace would be enough. You thought, “His grace was sufficient once. His grace may be sufficient again. But not now, not with what I am going through.” But God’s word stands. “My grace is sufficient for you.” Spurgeon wrote, “It is easy to believe in grace for the past and the future, but to rest in it for the immediate necessity is true faith. Believer, it is now that grace is sufficient: even at this moment it is enough for thee.”
iv. “My grace is sufficient for you.” Redpath explains this aspect best: “Do you see the humor of the situation? God’s grace: me. His grace sufficient for little me! How absurd to think that it could ever be any different! As if a little fish could swim in the ocean and fear lest it might drink it dry! The grace of our crucified, risen, exalted, triumphant Saviour, the Lord of all glory, is surely sufficient for me! Do you not think it is rather modest of the Lord to say sufficient?”
v. “My grace is sufficient for you.” I’m so glad God didn’t say, “My grace is sufficient for Paul the Apostle.” I might have felt left out. But God made it broad enough. You can be the you in for you. God’s grace is sufficient for you! Are you beyond it? Are you so different? Is your thorn worse than Paul’s, or worse than many others who have known the triumph of Jesus? Of course not.
And once again, the great Charles Spurgeon, blesses us with this truth; “This sufficiency is declared without any limiting words, and therefore I understand the passage to mean that the grace of our Lord Jesus is sufficient to uphold thee, sufficient to strengthen thee, sufficient to comfort thee, sufficient to make thy trouble useful to thee, sufficient to enable thee to triumph over it, sufficient to bring thee out of it, sufficient to bring thee out of ten thousand like it, sufficient to bring thee home to heaven . . . O child of God, I wish it were possible to put into words this all-sufficiency, but it is not. Let me retract my speech: I am glad that it cannot be put into words, for if so it would be finite, but since we never can express it, glory be to God it is inexhaustible, and our demands upon it can never be too great. Here let me press upon you the pleasing duty of taking home the promise personally at this moment, for no believer here need be under any fear, since for him also, at this very instant, the grace of the Lord Jesus is sufficient.”

And now back to good ol’ David Guzik:

 Many of us think that real Christian maturity is when we come to a place where we are somewhat “independent” of God. The idea is that we have our act so together that we don’t need to rely of God so much day to day, moment to moment. This isn’t Christian maturity at all. God deliberately engineered debilitating circumstances into Paul’s life so he would be in constant, total dependence on God’s grace and God’s strength.
ii. Many people see God as a parent that we outgrow. Once we’re mature, once we have overcome certain obstacles in life, we can shake off God just the same as we shook off the authority of our parents. And some of us treat God the same way we treat our parents. We give Him a measure of respect, we give Him His due – but we no longer feel we really have to obey Him any more. In our hearts, we have moved out of the house. We think we can make our own rules in life as long as we have supper at God’s house once a week and give the “old man” a little recognition.
iii. Many harbor a longing for the day when the Christian life will become “easy.” We hope for a time when the major struggles with sin are behind us, and now we go on to bigger and better things without much of a struggle. That day is an illusion. If the apostle Paul himself constantly experienced weakness, who are we to think that we will surpass him?
iv. In fact, the illusion of strength and independence actually leaves someone in a weaker place. “There is nothing more hindering the work of God than the uplifted and proud Christian.” (Morgan)
v. “Ministers of the Gospel especially should banish all thoughts of their own cleverness, intellectual ability, culture, sufficiency for their work, and learn that only when they are emptied can they be filled, and only when they know themselves to be nothing are they ready for God to work through them.” (Maclaren)
vi. “God works through the man who has been wiped clean and turned inside out, his life emptied before the Lord until he is hopelessly weak, that no flesh might glory in His presence.” (Redpath)

And if there is even one solid soul still reading these great blessings of truth God has given to me this week, can I just lovingly caution you, in your own world as the Holy Spirit has cautioned me in mine…

“Yet, we should never think that in our lives, the mere presence of a thorn means the glory and strength of Jesus will shine in us and through us. You can resist God’s grace, and refuse to set your mind on Jesus, and find your thorn cursing you instead of blessing you. “Without the sanctifying power of the Holy Spirit, thorns are productive of evil rather than good. In many people, their thorn in the flesh does not appear to have fulfilled any admirable design at all; it has created another vice, instead of removing a temptation.” (Spurgeon)

Let this not be us Lord, not me, not my friend reading that probably fell asleep earlier but then woke up to finish. None. May we walk funny, only in the sense that we walk not like this world walks. May we walk only in the strength you give us. In your precious Name, amen.

Stockpiling stupidity

Have you ever heard the ol’ Christian wisdom that usually comes from those older in years and in faith that warns…”Don’t pray for patience. God won’t give you patience, He will give you circumstances to be patient through.”
Have you heard it? You know it? Then, friend, where the heck were you just yesterday morning when I sought out verses to help me be more patient with my kids? Were you sleeping in while I was spending time with God? Gee, thanks.
I have had a loooong week or so. Not bad, mind you, just loooong.
If we are being completely honest and I always try to be whether you want it or not it has been a loooong last seven weeks. My sweet Ryan has been off from work for that long and so we have been here at home together all day every day since then. Nope, no Hallelujah chorus insert here. Keep on movin’. And like I said, it hasn’t been bad, just loooong. 
I am more than thankful for this pretty much one and only perk that comes from serving in the education field. Most families don’t have the benefit of having Daddy home for so long. We truly enjoyed the time together, we really did. Especially after the year we’d had, we sort of ok, we completely thought we kinda deserved it. But, while it was so much fun for some reasons, it was also just a loooong summer for other reasons. Did I mention it was loooong? Ok, just checking. Ryan had a list of things he wanted to get done during his time off. Both with me, and the kids, and with projects around the house. We cleaned a lot. We organized a lot. Ryan’s idea of fun, by the way. Wahoo. We swam with the kids a lot! But, overall, we just did a lot. And keep in mind, that just a few short months ago, a “big day” for me was showering, doing dishes and folding a load of laundry all in the same day. (I praise you God for how far you have brought me!)
So, this summer was a big summer. And I was thrilled to get to be a part of it. Just. So. Thrilled!!
But, as the weeks went on and on we checked lots of things off our list…like going to Florida for a week to visit Ryan’s 94-year-old grandmother, celebrating five birthdays, completely cleaning out our attic and our garage I kid you not I had saved every greeting card I’d ever received. Ryan says I’d be on the TV show Hoarders if it weren’t for him. Gosh I’m lucky. J  going to four Rangers games, having Ryan’s Mom stay with us for a week, at least 10 baseball practices and 10 baseball games for the boys, completely cleaning out and re-painting and re-arranging the kid’s bedrooms, painting the entire exterior of the house uh ya, Ryan, not me on that one, three weeks of kids in summer “school” fun days, camping trip for the boys and Daddy, movie dates for us with and without kids, two girl’s nights for me praise God! a doctor’s appointment that’s right, friend, just ONE doctor’s appointment for me since like March, again, GOD you get all the praise!, swimming, swimming and more swimming…we we’re just flat out tired. That really does sound like a lot for just seven weeks for anyone, but for me, it’s darn near like running in a marathon once a week for seven weeks. And that’s a lot of running. Really, that’s like hundreds of miles, isn’t it? I don’t even know exactly how many miles are in a marathon which just goes to show you how far away I am from running one, much less seven!
Anyway, I have been tired. But, as we approached what we dreaded but knew would come, i.e. the “last week” before Ryan went back to school, it kinda hit us…”Oh man, it’s over!?! Noooooo!! Have we really enjoyed it? It went way too fast. I can’t believe it!” Insert a bit of sobbing and acts of living in denial as well
So Ryan asked the boys what three things they’d like to do during the last two weeks Daddy was off. Abigail immediately chimed in “I wanna eat Wendy’s!” Feed our family of five for under $9? Don’t mind if I do, dollar menu, thank you very much. Done. She is easy. In this way and this way only. The boys said they wanted to go to a Rangers game, which was doable, and a waterpark, again, maybe doable…and the zoo. Ya boys, it’s like 105 degrees in the shade. I don’t even think the animals want to be at the zoo right now. Not happenin’. But, two out of three ain’t bad. 
So, after five weeks of lovingly enjoyable, but tiring, chaos, we had two weeks left. So, we planned another Rangers game and a day at the waterpark. Did I mention that we already had a weekend trip planned for my annual family reunion and that Ryan and I also had planned our own little two day anniversary getaway? Ten years baby, wahoo! God totally gets credit for that one too! It’s a darn near miracle the man didn’t run for the hills after month three when he fully realized what he’d gotten himself into. Ok, week three.

So, we got the dates set and on your mark, set, go we did. 
That was last week. 
Literally seven days ago we hadn’t got on our anniversary trip, to the waterpark, to the Rangers game, or to the family reunion. Nutso people, it’s been nutso. A great kind of nutso, mind you.
Anyway, why in the world did I go on and on about all this backstory duh, because it’s me when this post really isn’t about being busy or over-scheduling or anything? Although I have some friends who live like this, and I don’t know how or why you guys do it! I promise I have a point, stay with me. 
So, as we have enjoyed these last seven days very much, it has worn us out. And I don’t know about you, but when I get tired, all the ugly comes out. The ugly Mommy looks. The ugly intentions. The ugly voice at anyone and everyone. All the ugly. All the time. Warning! Warning! I also got a little visit from that repeated monthly woman’s enemy, so that means ugly times a hundred! How many years ‘til menopause again!?!

And then it happened. My folks called us we were on our anniversary getaway to say that, while everyone was “Ok”, they wanted to let us know Benjamin (our adorable middle child) had thrown up twice. Nice.
Immediately the Mommy-guilt crept in like a tidal wave.
“I should be home with him.”
“We need to leave now.”
“This is what I get for leaving my babies.”
And then his sweet little self got on the phone: “Mama, I’m sorry I “frew” up. I really want to “cuggle” his own version of “cuddle”, too cute! with you tonight, Mama. Where are you?”
“I am selfishly staying at a hotel only 20 minutes from you and sleeping better than I have in years not home, baby.”

My parents assured me that they thought he’d probably just eaten too much and he was fine, and I knew he was. I knew I could cuggle with him tomorrow night when we got home. And cuggle we did. 
That, my friend, turned out to not be a very good idea. 
The very next day, when we had just barely arrived at my family reunion, I really started to not feel very well. Hmmmm, I must have eaten too much. Then it hit me. Those same words I’d uttered about my sweet BenBen just two days before. Then, those sweet moments of cuggling flashed back into my head. Noooooooo! But, friend, by then it was too late. Waaaay too late. There was throwing up and there was throwing down. I will just leave it at that. 
So, here I am in this wonderful cabin in the beautiful tree-filled hills of Oklahoma surrounded by family I only see once a year, and all I wanted to do is crawl under my log-style bed and pass out. for like a week

Then, it hit our oldest, Jacob. It hit him hard, but thankfully not as hard as it did me. And then came Abigail. She has to be a part of every party. She is my kid, after all. Oh man, this party would have been one I would have wanted us all to miss. After a loooong four hours home and I will spare you how many changes of underwear for my “potty-trained for a whopping month” 2-year-old, we finally made it home. 
Then it hit Jacob and my walls and my carpet all over again for round two. 
Then, my cousin facebooked me and thanked me for that lovely gift we’d given to her family. 
And then my Dad called – it hit him too. I swear the man has thrown up like four times in my entire 32 years on planet earth, but this was three of those times. 
Then, my sweet Ryan, who had to buck up and start work full time yesterday, actually didn’t. He made it to lunch. Then, he was back home and passed out on our bed.
So, yesterday morning when I spent my time with my God, I knew the day would be hard. I was just barely recovering from this whole deal myself, and Ryan would be gone and all the kids would be cooped up and stir crazy before 10am. So, I prayed for patience. Stupid, stupid girl.

I even went so far as to look up a verse that I could claim all day to get me through what I knew would be a very tough day. And I found it. 
Let me see if I can still quote it from memory………Proverbs 14:29 “He who is patient gains great wisdom, but he who is quick-tempered gains folly.” 
Ok, now let me check………
Huge sigh of relief I got the address right! That’s the part I have the hardest time with! Here is the exact verse as it is so written in the good ol’ NIV
“A patient man has great understanding, but a quick-tempered man displays folly.” NIV
But, as if that wasn’t enough, I even dug a bit deeper and wanted to find out what other translations could teach me about patience…just call me a glutton for punishment 🙂
“People with understanding control their anger; a hot temper shows great foolishness.” (NLT)
Ok, gee, that makes it sound easy.
And of course, you gotta look at good ol’ King Jimmy…
“A patient man has great understanding, but a quick-tempered man displays folly.” KJV
Folly “sounds” like a fun word, but I’m thinking it’s not. I also really like the Amplified Bible. It usually adds even more words in parentheses, so you know that’s right up my alley.
“He who is slow to anger has great understanding, but he who is hasty of spirit exposes and exalts his folly” (AMP)
No extra words this time, but still, it showed me that being quick-tempered not only exalts my folly, but exposes it. Ouch.
And then, friend…just for good measure, I looked up The Message Bible to see how it would tell it like it is to me. And, boy did it. Get this one…
“Slowness to anger makes for deep understanding; a quick-tempered person stockpiles stupidity.” (MSG)
Ouch. 
Stockpiles stupidity. 
Isn’t that brilliant?!?
I love it. 
And unfortunately, today, I not only loved it, but I lived it. Dangit.
]
I really did pretty well, considering my tiredness and my current state of womanly junk, twenty-two years-ish and counting… for a good portion of the day. I will spare you all of the 643 things that the kids chose to do to gang up on me today test their boundaries. But, in all honestly, I remarkably made it ‘til about 6:30pm. From then until bedtime, I was stockpilin’ so much, you’d have thought I was getting ready for the stinkin’ Apocalypse. 
As I was walking my completely ornery and mirror-image-of-me daughter to “time out” a safe distance away from me for the fourth time today, I couldn’t even get the verse out of my mouth, I just kept mumbling 14:29, 14:29, 14:29. Maybe that’s why I remembered the address this time!

I raised my voice. I spanked when I shouldn’t have. I spoke out of anger. I gave looks that crush small children. I expected too much. I loved too little. I didn’t show grace. I threw patience and darn near my child out the window. 
I just flat out stockpiled stupidity. 
Ever been there, friend? You have to say yes or I’m not sure we can be friends.
You may be more spiritually mature than I am and honestly not be dealing with this right now, but maybe you can recall a time when you did? 
When you looked back at your last few weeks and in hindsight, saw how clearly you could have, should have, and would have…but just plain didn’t? Can I please get a witness?

It grieves my heart. I mean it, it darn near breaks it, after an hour like that, or God-forbid a day like that. When I went to tuck in those sweet babies to bed, I ‘bout near started bawling because I wanted them to know I much I love them and how very truly sorry I am and how incredibly thankful Mommy is to be upright and well and able to even be playing with them. Why is it that they always look so sweet and precious and innocent and harmless when they are in their jamis tucked in bed with their favorite lovey? Sigh.
It just plain grieves my heart friend, and even worse, I know it grieves my God’s heart. Ugh, that kills me. I know how desperately He wants me to be like Him. And I know that He knows how many billions of light years I am away from that. 
And as I sit here atop my stupid stockpile, with a view so clear from way up here I can almost see that cabin in Oklahoma I didn’t even get to enjoy…I can close my eyes and almost smell a fresh rain coming. Don’t get excited local friends, not real rain!

The best kind of rain one can feel. The rain of His pure mercy. 
Then these verses came to my heart…
Lamentations 3:19-25 “I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall. I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.” The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him;”
Great is Thy faithfulness. So true. I mean, c’mon people, that was even a hymn!

Have you felt it before? Oh how I hope you have! The feeling of His mercy, His compassion, His grace, just rain all over your scrawny neck? When I was looking up some of the other verses that used this same root word for “compassion” (or mercy)…so many of them were about mercy being given to those that just honestly didn’t deserve it!
Um, ya, that would be big, fat me: aka “The Stockpiler”
But, I do love that my mind recalled the same thing that the writer of Lamentations recalled. How cool is that?!? We both were reminded of the HOPE we have in Him. Because of His great love, we are not consumed. I am not. You are not. We are not. He is my portion and I will wait for Him.
Will you?
Maybe your stockpiling has been going on for years and someone needs to turn you into that Hoarding show with me, apparently. Fine. So be it. God can (and wants to!) wipe all that junk out and it only takes one single drop of His mercy. Maybe you are dealing with something not as serious as I am, but still, you stockpile all the same. Whether yours could fill a few shoeboxes or a few stadiums, it matters not. What matters is that you go to Him every single day and repent of this awful choice. 
Every day. For some of us, it really needs to be more of an hourly thing. I’m just sayin’

Let us remember the manna, here, shall we?
In Exodus 16, those good ol’ Israelites who I can, unfortunately, relate to way too much! were given manna from heaven and it was fresh and new every day. But, they wanted to store it up. They wanted to do it their way and not God’s. Let’s face it, friend, they just flat out didn’t want to have to depend on God every day. Ugh I hate that I am that way. 

Well, friend, I really don’t hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it doesn’t work that way. 
He designed you to, desires for you to, and actually looks forward to you COMING TO HIM EVERY SINGLE DAY! 
For…strength.
For…peace.
For…comfort.
For…patience.
For…wisdom.
For…love.
For…fill in the blank. 
Don’t let the enemy of your soul (1 Peter 5:8) tell you that your stockpile is too big, or too dirty, or too anything. It ain’t true. It just takes a drop, friend. Just a drop.
Let’s just put our big girl panties on and join SA (Stockpilers not-so Anonymous) and let Him work on this thing, shall we? Membership is free for you. Jesus paid it already. (Matthew 20:28)
“Hello. My name is Caroline”
“Helloooo Caroline.”
“And I…am a stockpiler….but, not…for…long!”
Amen and amen!

Satan’s Minivan

Ok, so here’s the deal…I absolutely, positively thought I was a cool kid. Then, the older I got, the less cool I thought I was. But, then you go to college where it is all about fitting in by not fitting in. Be your own person. Wear whatever you want. Date whoever you want. Drive whatever you want. It’s all good.

Not for me. Somewhere along the line, I grew pretty concerned borderline obsessed that not only was I not cool now, but Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! what if I was never cool, like ever? (insert ahhhhh! from  the depths of my soul)

Fast forward to just a few years ago. Now, I thought I was a completely mature and self-confident chick in her mid-twenties. I had the husband – check. I had the college degree – check. I had the new cookie-cutter home – check. I even was one of those ridiculous people who stressed over whether or not “lulled beige” was the right color for the interior walls. It’s beige people, seriously. And what if the color we chose for the outside trim and fascia board yes, I had to google how to spell that matched the brick or if it had too many “rose tones” in it. And yes, I loved using “homeowner words” like fascia board…and mortgage loan…and the fact that our house had good “bones”. Oh, goodness gracious. Someone should have shot me.

But, let me tell you…I was still desperately hoping to be cool. I still said things like, “Me? A minivan. Um, no. In fact…heck no! There ain’t no way. No how. I’ll drive a Toyota Seqouia if we need a third row. And yes it’ll have leather and a DVD player and blah, blah, blah.” Clearly I was smoking crack pretty unaware back then since my husband and I were both public school teachers. And we would be committed to me being a stay-at-home mom domestic goddess cutting that whopping income in half. And last time I checked, teachers don’t get any monetary help ever incentive bonuses that include a fully-loaded SUV. Once again, thank you for not shooting me goodness gracious.

Fast forward a few more years and now I am a chick that is still in denial about being in my early-thirties and I have some shocking news for you. Are you ready? I mean really, are you sitting down…and not drinking anything that you cold spew from your mouth and/or nose once you receive this shocking news? Ok, good. Deep breath…

I

am

not

cool.

I’ll give you time to recover from that one. Ya, I know you don’t need any time. Humor me.


I mean it. I’m just not cool, dangit. I drive an 11 year old car with a windshield crack across the entire driver’s side. I have ugly feet with unpainted toenails and a bunion. My teeth severely need whitening. jana, are you reading this? 🙂 And although I’m improving, I can still on my best day only cook about as well as a newly married twenty-something who hasn’t unpacked all her wedding serving dishes. Some of Mine are unpacked, for the record. Used yet? Maybe not, but they are unpacked.

I wear normal undergarments that never match each other. I have one earring hole in each ear, at the normal part of the lobe, and normal sized. No quarter-sized, floppy holes here. (Sidenote: how in the world do they think that is going to look in another twenty years?? It ain’t gonna be pretty. I mean seriously!?! Ok, sorry)
I can’t name any artist on the top 40 list lately. In fact, I don’t even know for sure if they still do a top 40 list. Is Casey Kasem still around?

I can’t pull off the cool new trendy bow/flower/feather phenomenon that is sweeping girl’s hairdos and hats and lapels across the nation. Shoot – I just found out what “jeggings” were like two months ago. By the way – jeggings: leggings that are jean material. That’s for the rest of you kids out there that are repeating the word over and over in your head like I did, as if you should know it.

Ugh. Pathetic.

Or maybe not? It doesn’t matter either way to me, to be honest. I am what I am. But, I’m telling you what, friend…not too long ago, I would have been wearing jeggings…while driving in my late model SUV…listening to p.diddy or fergie or that chick with the weird costumes…um…lady gaga. See? I can hardly even make the reference to sound funny!…but man, I’d have been blaring that music with the windows down, wind whipping through my highlighted hair tucked under my blingy hat with coordinating bow attachment…as I hurried from getting my teeth cleaned to my mani/pedi appointment…all before my roast was done in the crockpot at home.
Not now. Not me.

But, that’s just it…none of that is bad. Some of the people I love dearest and envy the most rock those trendy bow thingys…or get manicures…or love top 40 music…or could be on Top Chef…and darn near all of them every single one drive cars newer than mine. I will repeat…those things aren’t bad…for some. But, for me…it wouldn’t be real. It wouldn’t be me.

But, we all have something…don’t we? I mean, I used to 100% kinda wish I could pull off some of that cute stuff other chicks wear. I used to sometimes pretty much always wish that a lot of things were different about me. Sad, isn’t it?

We all have that “thing” that we do truly wish was different about us…or our home…or our lives. For some of us pretty much every woman, it may be that we desperately wish we were taller or thinner. For some women all who are married to teachers, it may be that we wish our husbands made more money. Still, others may just want to be noticed and appreciated more by their friends and family. Maybe it isn’t so “deep” for you…maybe you just wish that they hadn’t ended your favorite TV show Gilmore Girls for no good reason. I don’t know. But I think we can all relate with the “if-onlys” in life. Because I know there are a few of you, like me, out there that think that things would be so much better if only I was…married…or a mother….or in ministry…or out of ministry…then….then surely things would be better. Surely.

For me, over the past year or two, my “if-only” has been a little ironic, really. I do believe that God is laughing uncontrollably with me about it right now because of the years I spent promising up and down that I was not going to do this. Not me. No way. No how.

What is my “if-only”??

Cool kids, thanks so much for reading! brace yourself.

I

want

a

minivan.

SHHHHHHHH!! Yep, that was the sound of my last chance at being cool flushing down the toilet.

Ironic, isn’t it? The one thing I knew I would never do was own a old lady minivan! Once again, I think God laughs at the “nevers” we announce. Therefore, I’m convinced that I must keep Him just flat out rolling!

That’s right. For me…this has been my deal. Crazy, isn’t it?? I mean, it is not like I wanted liposuction or a vacation home in Italy. (Don’t judge, these are just examples!)

I wanted a stinkin’ minivan. Period.

Not too outlandish is it?

And, it didn’t even have to be new. Used was fine, I just wanted a third row for our three small kiddos to sit on so that I didn’t want to curse when I rub my skin raw squueeezing my hand in between the three carseats that were sardined in our backseat every flippin’ time we got in the car.

Silver colored cars are the coolest make me happy. Keyless entry would be great.

Oooh… and leather would be a huge bonus for the inevitable spills and daily bodily fluids that come along with motherhood.

And one of those fancy automatic doors would be like icing on the cake. Hmmm…I’m hungry.

But, really. Just a third row in a used vehicle with good gas mileage was fine with me.

It was fine.
Then, it was incredibly important.
Then, it became borderline obsessive compulsively crucial.
And, then it sort of became a little ultimatum in my head to our completely Sovereign God. (I know, I’m awful!)

My thoughts about it went something like this but sometimes not as polite

Lord, could you please just DO THIS for us? I mean really, we have had quite a difficult couple of years. We deserve this. You know this would make our world so much easier. We have faithfully given to our church and our dear missionary friends throughout all of these trying times. We do not live lavishly. We don’t even live “normally”. We don’t have debt. We have paid off more than enough medical bills over these last few years to pay cash for a luxury SUV for each of us. Are we really asking for that much? What is the problem here? Every single time we even begin to save up a bit of money – something happens – and there that dream goes, further and further away. Why can’t you allow us to have this one thing. “If only” we could just get this minivan – then, Lord, then we’d be satisfied.

Ugh. Disgusting, isn’t it?  The answer is yes. 


My prayers didn’t start off that bitter. Ya they did. Regardless, months and months went by and literally every single stinkin’ time we saved even just a few hundred dollars to put in our “Van Can” (which, by the way, was literally a V8 can with sliced hole in top so we ok, so that I couldn’t get the money back out) – something would come up. A medical bill. I tell myself I got voted Most Popular by Blue Cross Blue Shield this year, by the way. Some sort of drama with our thirty year old falling apart house. It. Was. Always. Something.

Meanwhile, I kid you not, lots of people every single Mom of small kids in the free world that had previously not had a minivan before, got one. And they all moved to my town. Every single one of them.

Even some of my friends got minivans. Two of them hated having a minivan  – and they had silver, leather, 2 automatic doors, keyless entry, DVD players  were brand spankin’ new. I was completely and 110% not too jealous, though.

Ya sure. Ever heard the expression “salt in the wound”. Yep, I was feeling wounded, sitting there holding my empty salt shaker, for sure!

Am I babbling endlessly here or can you actually relate to this? Yes to both questions, eh?


So, maybe you are a cool kid please friend me on facebook and don’t want a minivan, but is there something that “if only” you had it, then life would be good? Then, you’d be really satisfied?

A bigger house?
A bigger income?
A smaller waistline?
Something that so-and-so has that you don’t.
Maybe just an attitude or personality trait change for you? Or maybe your spouse?
Yes, Lord, then we’d be satisfied. No we wouldn’t.


Friend, have you ever heard of the Israelites?
Take some time and read Exodus Chapters 13-16. Did she just suggest I read four chapters of the Bible. Ya sure. I know it’s a long read, but I promise it’s a humbling one. Yes, you need it just like I do.


The Israelites sounded a little something like me
“If only we had freedom…”
“If only we had a leader…”
“If only we could cross this sea…”
“If only we had water to drink…”
“If only we had meat to eat…”
“If only we had a different leader…”
“If only we had never left slavery…”
“If only we weren’t lost…”
“If only those giants weren’t so big…”
“If only we had a minivan…”

Ok, so I added that last one. But, good gosh, I would have fit in there quite nicely. Sad, but true. Would you fit in with me? I want you to really stop and think about that. Think about your “if onlys” and see where you heart is about them.

Being that I’ve had a lot of “down time” over these last months and months, twenty three months, to be exact, not that I’m counting I’ve also had a lot of time to really evaluate my heart.

And often, every single stinkin’ time it wasn’t even close to pretty.

Satan will take your innocent desire and turn it into an sinful “if only” quicker that you can push the button to open your automatic sliding minivan doors.

You see, this had become satan’s minivan. That stupid, relentless, crafty, evil enemy can get a hold of anything in your life if you let him. Anything.

Thankfully, after way too much time kicking and screaming God got a hold of this issue in my heart. He got a hold of it and He wouldn’t let go. I, however, did.

I let go. I gave up. I flat out told God that if we had to drive the eleven-year-old 4Runner and the twenty-year-old Celica for years and years, I’d just be fine with it. I had to choose to be fine with it. I had to give it up and just trust Him.

I think it is interesting so wacked out by the way, that I can trust God with my family, my safety, and my eternal salvation, but not with our flippin’ mode of transportation. Oh geez.

Anyway, friend, I am beyond excited, now two years after I began pouting to announce that I am now the proud owner of a minivan. (insert Hallelujah chorus)

I mean it – I wouldn’t lie about something that serious. 🙂

And in true God fashion – He totally outdid Himself.

To make a long story as short as I am physically capable ya, go ahead and get comfy
I now own God’s minivan. And its name is “Grace”. Yes, I name my cars. All the cool kids do.


We could have rushed through it. We could have gone against our personal convictions and just accrued some debt to make this happen. We could have. But by the grace of God alone, we didn’t. And I am so happy, because now, on this side of it, I know we would have missed His blessings.

First of all, we would have missed out on an amazing opportunity to own a van that we bought from some of our dear friends. Grace has been my sweet friend for years and years. She held my hand during these last few years and helped remind me of the foundation I was, in fact, standing upon. She and Tom have been in our home group for a while. They are salt of the earth kind of people.

And they were moving to Austria. (insert weeping) I have had no choice but to come to terms with her leaving. But, then to find out she was trying to sell her minivan before they left. No way! Another dear friend already had “dibs” but in true Dianne form she was happy to allow us the chance to purchase it first. (I love you Dianne, thank you!) And then (yes, I’m not done with the blessings yet!) someone anonymously gave us some money to help put towards it. (Thank you, someone – I hope Grace gave you the note I wrote you!) Then…we were able to sell the twenty-year-old car within a week, giving us exactly what we needed to purchase it.

And by the way, in true God form – my van, “Grace”, is silver, has two, that’s right, two automatic sliding doors, leather and has been driven, immaculately cared for, and even prayed over by one of my dearest friends.

Does it get any better than that?

Well, I guess free would have been better. But, not really. After all the fussing we’d ok, I’d done we needed to sacrifice some money to make this happen. It needed to hurt a little. We’d, ya, ya, ya, I know…I’d earned it.

But, before you get to thinkin’ I’m sounding pretty proud of myself about this – be assured that I am incredibly selfish and ridiculously prideful enough to have more than one hundreds of “if onlys” in my life. So don’t think I’m sitting here all cool and pretty and self-righteous.

Remember, I’m not a cool kid.

And don’t get me started on my waistline.

Friend, would you please give it up? Are you willing to just let. this. thing. go? Pray about it often. Search Scripture to help you with contentment and joy. Look around at all the blessings you do have and soak in the thankful bath tub for a while.It’s great for the skin.

Our gracious God wants to take care of us in every way. He knows what we need and He knows what we want incentive bonuses for teachers.

Don’t miss out on the blessings He is anxiously awaiting to give you.

If you do, you may not fully take ownership of the “Grace” He has in store for you.

By the way, I totally rock that minivan. Hey, I’m just sayin’.:)


Psalm 37:30-34 “The mouth of the righteous man utters wisdom, and his tongue speaks what is just. The law of his God is in his heart; his feet do not slip. The wicked lie in wait for the righteous, seeking their very lives; but the LORD will not leave them in their power or let them be condemned when brought to trial. Wait for the LORD and keep his way. He will exalt you to inherit the land; when the wicked are cut off, you will see it.

I Deserve a Free Slurpie

My sweet husband, Ryan, has an even sweeter grandmother. She is 94 years young and as sharp as a tack. We love visiting her. In fact, we’d enjoy seeing her quite often; the only problem is that she lives 700 miles away. Seven hundred loooong miles.

Because of the distance, along with the fact that she has decided she’s “done traveling” –  it is only about once a year that we get to see her. Of course, it doesn’t help that we have three children under the age of six. Yep, I would say that is also a major factor, friend.

Thanks to some generous gifts from my parents, we were blessed to have enough money to make the loooong drive to see her. I’m not sure who was more excited, us or her.

Ryan, myself, and the kiddos were all pumped up about our trip. This was a very big deal for us for more important reasons than simply looking forward to a little family vacation. For Team Holzberger, this was a true milestone. My medical drama has all but robbed us of these types of “normal” family outings for a couple years now. And remember, my kids are little. So, that is a big chunk of what their little brains can recall. I am quite sure they can’t remember the last major family trip we took four years ago when Mama was healthy and “normal”. In fact, they’ve grown accustomed to a family meal at Wendy’s as being a big deal.


So, this, friend, was flat out a miracle! Not only that we could go, but that I could go! (We are so thankful, Lord!)

So, I switched on my (very small) anal/methodical side in order to get us all ready. Packing for five people for six days takes much planning and orderly list-making. Two things that don’t exactly come naturally to me. So, I channeled my inner Ryan (my uber organized hubby!) and got us ready.

We set out early in the a.m. and pointed our minivan due east. Even the kiddos were unusually cheery as our trip began, despite the morning sun sleeping in later than we did. Shortly after we got on the road, Ryan asked if I could take over for a bit and drive.

This was big. I mean really big! It’s only been a handful of times that I have driven farther than where the Mama carpool takes me in the past couple years. Even as I sit here and type, I can’t remember the last time I drove on the highway! And here I was going to drive a leg of our loooong trip like a real-life, normal, grown up. (Again, God you totally get credit for that one!!)

So, I climbed into the driver’s seat of our new (to us) minivan and tried to calm my giddiness as I set out. (Don’t worry, an entire post is coming about that glorious van, aka “Grace”)

Ryan settled in comfortably in the passenger seat with the five pillows I brought. He put in his earphone thingys and escaped into the world of random classic songs his iPhone provided.

I gotta be honest… I rocked it.

I drove for five hours!!! Friend, that is not a typo…FIVE HOURS!! It was unreal. I jammed to the local Christian radio station and just flat out enjoyed myself thoroughly.

The kids were perfect. They were so busy with their books and coloring pages, it was pure bliss. I must admit, there were times when I would look in my rearview mirror to change lanes and surprisingly see a little face smiling back at me from the back row.

Oh yeah, there are kids in this ride. What do ya know?

Eventually, my time as the big girl driver ended and I came back to the passenger side, aka “kid duty”.

I wasn’t too worried about having to “manage” the kids because they had been so obedient and quiet so far. I was so impressed, and I’ll be honest, a bit shocked, at their minimal issues.

That is, until now.

Once again, Ryan got one step closer to recapturing his youth via his iPhone and I closed my eyes to “rest” like Ryan had done most of the time I drove. But, I kid you not, Ryan wasn’t even midway through his first 80’s classic before it began…

(Keep in mind, Jacob is six, Benjamin is four and Abigail is two…going on sixteen! God help us.)

Jacob: “Mama, Benjamin said I don’t get a turn with the colored pencils!”

Benjamin: “No, I didn’t, I just said it could be my turn first.”

Benjamin: “Maaammmaaaaa, can we listen to my songs instead of your songs.”

Abigail: “Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama, I want Dora pleeeeaaase!”

Seriously, who are you people?

I look at Ryan. Nothing. His eyes are fixated on the road and his thoughts are with Enigma.

Daddy had been on “kid duty” for hours and I hear nothing. Not a stinkin’ peep. Now, all of a sudden, it is my turn to rest and everyone has a crisis.

Me: “Hey guys, it’s ok, you’re fine. Just calm down, we will stop again soon.”

Two minute pause.

Jacob: “Mama, when can I play a game on Daddy’s phone?”

Benjamin: “I thought I got to have the phone first.”

Abigail: “Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama I want Dora pleeeeaase!!”

Me: “Ok, listen up. Daddy has been here to help you guys for hours and nobody asked him one question, not one. What is going on?”

Jacob: “But Daddy was resting.”

Me: “Well Mama is resting now, ok?”

Jacob: “Ok.”

Benjamin: “Ok.”
Abigail: “Ok.”

Three minute pause.

Jacob: “That’s not fair Benjamin, you got to be the red guy last time. You need to share.”

Benjamin: “You always get to be the blue guy, all the time!”

Abigail: “I wanna be red and blue and orange and pink, Mama! I want Dora pleeeeassse!”

Sigh. So much for sleep.

Have you ever noticed that mothers are never off duty? Like, never. The whole family can be in the living room, and someone wants a drink, and who do they ask?

Mom.

We are all outside playing and someone needs a Band aid; who is supposed to go get it?

Mom.

Who then, is tearfully begged to go back inside for a different kind Band aid because Jacob has a Star Wars one and how come I can’t have one too?

I’ll let you have time to think about this one. Oh wait, no I won’t.

Mom.

You might as well go ahead and stamp 7-11 on my forehead. Cause, friend, I’m open 24 hours.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I am not complaining really, because as someone who has been forced to temporarily shut down her 24/7 hour duties as Mom, I am happily taking that role again. But, as my twenty-one-year old single friend labeled it, after playing with my three kids for a few hours…”I’m beat. I mean it, totally wiped out! I mean, your kids are great, they behave very well. I just can’t get over the ‘never-ending-ness’ of it. Someone always needed something. Always.”

Ya, no kidding. Welcome to 7-11.
Ya wanna slurpie?
Yes, I’ll go get it for you.

No story displays this better than that of my dear friend, Angie. A couple years ago, she went on a mission trip to Romania. Her parents serve faithfully in that country quite a few times a year, and this time, she joined them. All while her two boys (age 8 and 10 at the time) stayed home with Dad.

Despite her not having any kids actually with her on this trip, she recalls one particular moment during this trip was especially memorable. Or should I say, “Mom-orable”.

Angie was relaxing with her Mom as they gazed out at the Romanian countryside. It was beautiful! Peaceful. Quiet. Serene. That is, until a blaring noise coming from her purse jolted Angie from her postcard moment.

Oh my goodness,” she thought, “Is that my cell phone??”

It had been a few days since she’d heard it ring, causing her to almost forget it was even with her. Obviously she took it on the trip just for emergencies, because clearly it would cost at least $29.99 per minute to call the U.S. So – emergencies only!

She quickly fumbled through her purse to find it, anxious as she wondered who could be calling her right now? As any Mom would, flashes of fear rushed through her thoughts.

Oh no, something’s happened to the kids.

Then thoughts of her husband at work as a police officer jolted her worry in whole other direction.

Oh God, please let them be ok!!

Finally, she found her cell phone and quickly looked at the caller I.D. before opening it.

The display simple read: Home

Oh no, I knew it! Something has happened at home!

“Hello!?! Hello!? Hello!?!”

“Mom?!?” It was her ten year old son.

“Yes honey! Oh my goodness, are you and your brother ok? Is Dad ok?!?”

She held her breath for what seemed like an eternity until she heard her precious son say,

“Ya sure. We’re fine. I just wanted to ask you something…

Can we make eggs?”

Silence.

“What did you say, son?”

“Can we make eggs? You said we can’t use the stove unless we ask. So, can we?”

“Buddy, where is your father?”

“Uuuummm, I don’t know, in the other room, I think.”

“So you called me long distance, on my cell phone, in Romania when your father is ten feet away from you…just to ask me if you could make eggs!?!”

“Um, ya. Should I just ask Dad then?”

Sigh.

Just call us 7-11.

Our job never stops. Rain, sleet, snow…anytime of day and night. We are there.

It kind of reminds me of another parent; a much more perfect One of course.

Friend, do you know that our God never sleeps?

Psalm 121:3 assures us that “He will not let your foot slip–he who watches over you will not slumber;”

I don’t know about you, but I find great comfort in that. Great comfort.

2am – When your teenager is late for curfew, not answering their phone and you pray to God that they come home safely and in one piece.

3am – When the baby is screaming again (again!) and you seriously question why you ever wanted to procreate in the first place.

4am – See 3am

5am – See 4am and 3am…again!

9am – When the boss sits you down and explains how this downsizing is necessary and commends you for your hard work. In one fell swoop crushing your pride and your family’s stability.

11am – When the phone rings and it is the doctor himself calling to tell you that the lab results have come in and it would be best to talk about it in person.

2pm – When you get a call from the principal’s office wondering why your student hasn’t been at school all week. All of a sudden, you realize you don’t know your kid at all anymore.

5pm – When you rush through a stop sign to hurry and get your kids to practice, only to see the other car too late.

9pm – When you crawl into bed and once again roll over onto your side without so much as a “Goodnight, dear” from your spouse, or should you say, your roommate.

Each time. Any time. Every time. He is there. He is never too busy for you. He is never annoyed by you coming to Him over and over and over and over. He knows you best because He carefully made you. (Psalm 139)

Friend, He wants you to turn to Him first. And last. And every time in between. He died a humiliating and excruciating criminal’s death so that He wouldn’t have to be separated from you. He deserves devotion from you. And He desires it.

Come to Him. He is there.

Just call Him 7-11.

But, for the record, I do think I deserve a free slurpie after this trip. Can I get an Amen? 🙂

Grounded ‘Til I’m 21

I’m not sure about you, friend, but I can remember many an hour that I spent in the isolated world called “grounded”. Modern mathematics simply cannot add up that many hours in order to give you some outlandish total, but trust me, friend, it’s big.
           
It wasn’t that I was a “bad kid” or completely rebellious, even. I don’t even have any juicy stories about my racy younger years to share with you. I could make some up, but let’s be honest, this post will be long enough on its own – so let’s just keep it real here.
For me, a true sanguine personality, being grounded was bru-tal. Seriously, it was torture, people. For those of you not familiar with the four personality types, a sanguine is generally described as being friendly and approachable, inspirational to others, very relationship oriented, genuinely liking people, and perennially optimistic. (Whew! If that doesn’t describe me, I don’t know what does!) So…as you read over these description of how God made me, can you see how solitary life in my bedroom and absolutely no contact with the outside world for more than like five minutes could be likened to having your toenails pulled out one by one? Ya, me too.
Things were no different in my educational world. I spent a great deal of time in detention during my schooling years. Generally, it was not too bad for me. Rarely was I the only kid in detention, therefore it was somewhat of a social event in and of itself, really. But, if the teacher, for some reason had extended grace to everyone but me on that particular day, and then, God forbid, required me to copy sentences from the chalkboard for half an hour while she left the room…then ladies and gentlemen, that is grounded – same feeling, just different location.
You see, I wasn’t one of those kids who couldn’t be trusted alone in a classroom. I was just one of those kids who couldn’t be trusted to stay quiet in a classroom– like, ever. I honestly don’t think I meant disrespect. I just love people and I love talking. But, generally, that didn’t fit well into the lesson plans the teacher had. So, my school days were, how shall I say, “extended”, more often than not. I will admit, however, that I got to know some of my favorite teachers in detention. It was a great time for me to ask all about their families, their college years, etc. Two of them even came to my wedding. J
Anyway, my parents, doing the best they could, quickly found that using grounding as my punishment generally hurt the worst, and therefore worked the best. Spanking? Nah – not so much. I no sooner felt the belt leave my backside, before I’d give my Dad a hug, wipte the lone tear, and say “Can I have some ice cream tonight?”
But, grounding, yep, that did it. For the most part, it got my attention and I straightened up quickly. For the most part.
I am sure there were many times (May I repeat…many, many times) when my folks and/or teachers thought they would actually follow through with the threat to ground me ‘til I was twenty-one.
Well, friend, I have had that very same “grounded” feeling quite a bit lately, and I couldn’t pass for a twenty-one year old to a ninety-one-year-old blind man.
Due to the nature of my illness, in the past two years, I have spent more weeks flat on my couch alone than I have out in the beautiful, open world surrounded by people. Again, may I request that you read my personality description above…this doesn’t fit well with me.
God and I have talked about it quite a bit. (Understatement of the century)
I have no idea why He has allowed me to endure this for what seems like so long. I can’t help but look at my precious third child, who is two years old now, and be reminded that this has been going on for most of her sweet, baby life. It breaks my heart sometimes.
I have been grounded from driving my car.
I have been grounded from going out on a date.
I have been grounded from church functions.
I have been grounded from athletics.
I have been grounded from doing so many other things that I never knew I’d miss so much.
And I am stinkin’ thirty-two years old here, people. What could I have done that deserves this kind of punishment?
Nothing.
I know that for sure. Because this isn’t punishment.
Although I “feel” like I have been grounded, I know in my heart, that I am not actually grounded. I do not believe that God got tired of my constant talking and therefore banished me to the couch until further notice. He doesn’t work that way.
But, ooohhhh, wasn’t that the worst tactic ever? Did you folks ever do that? They told you that you were grounded but put no end date to it? This was a scheme that I used to think should be flat out illegal, but I somewhat understand it now. I remember asking my Mom why she couldn’t just tell me when the grounding would be over. She said “The point of the punishment is not for you to be counting the days until you are “free” of it. The point is that we will be watching to see when you are ready to be ungrounded. We will wait and look for a change in you.”
Ouch.
Friend, I have such a long way to go. I mean it – we are talking light years here. But, I feel pretty confident that God has seen some heart change in me throughout these last couple of difficult years. I know I’ve seen it. I know I’ve felt it. I pray I’ve displayed it.
But, you know what’s ironic? Even though I haven’t felt like it, I’ve technically been “ungrounded” for a few weeks now. Let me explain.
I had yet another spinal fluid leak just 10 short weeks ago, leaving me flat, once again. I quickly had a procedure to “fix” it and have been slowly recovering ever since. I was forced to lie flat most of every day for a few weeks after that. But, then, I started to get up more and more and live my newly adjusted life again. It hasn’t been easy, trust me. But, as far as the “feeling” of being grounded from all the life that I missed all those months and months flat on my couch – I guess I am free. Sort of.
I’ve been doing some real soul-searching lately about what all of this really means to me. This medical drama has been a huge life-altering detour that neither I, nor my loved ones expected or asked for. But, we have, thankfully, handled it ok thus far. But, now…here I am trying to get back into the swing of things, and I find that “feeling” of being grounded rising up in me again. Once again, let me explain.
Now that I have been taking on more of the tasks and responsibilities that I haven’t been physically able to bear for so long, I am finding that I have no time left for me. I haven’t written a blog, or a devotional or anything in a month. I rarely get to be alone. I am exhausted all the time. I don’t get down time. I don’t sleep well because my body hurts so much from the activity that has been required of it lately. I spend all that I have in me just doing the bare minimum of what it takes to keep my children fed, clothed and transported to school on time. So, what I have left is flat. out. nothing.
I can’t even bring myself to wake up early and do my quiet time that I grew to love. It was just me and my God, before anyone else was awake or asking anything of me. I spent so much time digging in His Word, seeking meanings of words, comparing translations and just simply taking time to “eat all the meat” if you know what I mean. Since I’ve been “better”, I feel that I have just enough time to gulp down a “God-energy-shake” on my way out the door.
Ugh. This is tough to confess to you all right now…just so you know.
Why? I guess because I have some warped sense of what I feel I need to portray to everyone. That I am always strong. That I am spending hours in Bible study each day. That my marriage is amazing and my kids are perfect. That my thoughts are pure and my deeds are purer.
Friend, it just isn’t true.
I have found myself complaining in my head about having to do so many of the very things that I longed so desperately to be able to do just a few short months ago. Isn’t that awful? (The answer is yes.)
I have been asked countless times over the last few weeks, why I haven’t been on facebook more, why I haven’t been posting on my blog, etc. The answer is simple.
I have nothing left.
I take so seriously what I write about. I don’t want it to ever be just about me. I want it to come from Him. And, friend, I haven’t been soaking up enough of Him to last me that much. I read His Word, listen to Truths in songs sung about Him, but I drain so easily now amidst this beautiful life of mine, that I simply have nothing left.
Until today.
Today I decided to lay down my pride and come back to you. I want to share that I, too, have seasons in my life where I feel closer to God than I do the clothes on my own body. But, this time, I want you to hear that I also have times in my life where He seems to me, to just be the brilliant light I see in every starry night, and just as far away.
But, I love Him. So desperately I love Him. I want to honor Him with my days here on earth. I am so very thankful for the last two years of medical drama, I honestly have no words to explain. I have grown to know Him well enough to know that He’s right here. Anytime and every time. He never changes. He can’t be anything but faithful. And He is worthy of our time, our energy, our efforts, our praise, our priority, our everything.
Maybe you didn’t spend a lot of time physically in time out, being grounded, or in detention in your growing up years. Good for you. For me, not so much. But even if you escaped the actual punishment type feeling that those events would evoke in your formative years…I can assure you, if you really think about it, most of us can relate to it as adults.
And no, you don’t have to necessarily be banished to your couch for months at a time to feel that way.
Maybe you feel grounded at work? Day after day, week after week working your tail off. Staying late. Arriving early. Only to watch others receive the praise and promotions you feel you deserve. You feel you might as well move your desk to the corner where it belongs.
Or maybe it is your marriage? You see each other daily, but do you really see each other? Things have changed so much since you said “I Do.” Most days you just feel like “I don’t.” and therefore, you don’t. And they don’t. And time passes, kids grow, finances strain what little you have until you feel like you are both sitting with your nose in the corner – and you aren’t even in the same corner anymore.
Or maybe it is just you. The skin covering your body are the walls of your grounding. You don’t like the way you look. Maybe you really never have. Your thoughts are rarely positive anymore, but the smile is plastered on your face, because you are a good Christian and should be smiling…right? You wonder what you are really offering the world? What impact you are really making, after all? “Oh, if I could just be like her.” you think to yourself. Life would be so much better. So, you look at the world all around you…from your corner you’ve built for yourself…and wish you were just somebody else.
I don’t know why you have ever felt grounded, friend. But, I bet you have. I know I have.
Can I tell you something great? Ok, maybe a few something(s) great!
God loves you. (John 3:16)
He made everything. (Isaiah 40:28)
He made you. (Psalm 139:13)
He knows every single little thing about you. (Luke 12:7)
The good…and the bad. (Hebrews 4:13)
And yet, He still loves you. (Romans 5:8) (That boggles my mind, but it is true.)
He is not tempting you to do wrong. (James 1:13)
In fact, he is pretty clear about wanting you to do good! (James 4:17)
Yet, He loves you, even when you don’t. (1 John 1:9)
And not only that, but He really does have a great plan for you. (Jeremiah 29:11)
Yes, YOU! Not just me, or your skinny sister-in-law, or your brilliant co-worker…YOU!
Even when you don’t “feel” it – He is there.
Even when you don’t feel like it – He is there.
Even when you don’t feel worthy – He is there.
He can handle it all.
I heard recently something that encouraged me and I pray it does the same for you. Do you remember when Moses was questioning God’s command (and maybe His sanity)? Moses didn’t feel like He had the right to go tell anyone anything…especially not in God’s name. God gave him the answer above all answers.
(my version)
Moses: “Me? What!?! What am I gonna say when I get there? They’re gonna want to know who sent me”
God: “I AM WHO I AM” “You just tell them that.”
That is the same God we serve today. And all grammar rules aside, friend, I can assure you…
HE STILL “AM”!!!
I don’t know about you, but I am more than thankful for that!

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