Friday, January 18, 2008
A Night with Buzz Light-year, Jasmine and the Carebears
Tonight was a low-key family night. It all began with a mid-afternoon trip to Grapevine Mills, where we snagged super cheap Disney costumes (Buzz Light-year cost $2.50!). After a couple of rides on the carousel, we headed back home with a few stops on the way: dinner, Wal-Mart and Blockbuster. The trip to Blockbuster resulted in renting The Carebears' Movie and Pan's Labyrinth. I'll let you guess who rented which. Happy Friday Night, everyone!
Thursday, January 17, 2008
The Weight of Sin: My Reward and His Joy
A few posts ago I mentioned Venture, the gathering of the people of our church to fast and toil in prayer for whatever purpose God designs. It has been gloriously painful. There's just something about fasting from food the whole day, feeling the hunger pangs, sipping on water or lemonade or Dr. Pepper trying to curb it (yes, when I fast I still drink Dr. Pepper...I have fasted from Dr. Pepper before...it was good...and I might do it again...emphasis on "might") but just not being enough. My soul aches as my body aches.
Now, I'm kind of a grumpy person when I don't eat food. Ask Matt or Audrey, and there's no "kind of" about it. It literally breaks me down. That means that when I walk into our sanctuary at 7 o'clock without food all day, I am raw. My spirit is raw, my emotions are raw. I am just plain vulnerable.
So last Wednesday, I had a breakdown of sorts. Opportunity to sin crept in and my flesh reacted with ferocity. Sitting in the 90's-style teal-blue chairs in the sanctuary, I broke into tears. A flood opened up. I felt the weight of my sin. The weight of self-pity and striving to live life on my terms. It was heavy. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't control the tears, they just poured forth whether I liked it or not. Little did I know that that was my reward.
I ran across this text yesterday: And when you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces that their fasting may be seen by others. Truly I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, that your fasting may not be seen by others but by your Father who is in secret. and your Father who sees in secret will reward you. (Matthew 6:16 - 18)
Our reward may not come wrapped in the package we think it should...it may not have pink and white polka dotted paper or beautiful ribbon...it might be a little bit ugly. It might come wrapped in toilet paper. Or tears. Or heaviness. Or feeling the weight of our sin.
So I was thinking about the weight of sin. And I was thinking about Jesus. And I was thinking about the cross. The full weight of my sin, of Matt's sin, of the woman caught in adultery's sin, of the thief's sin, of Saul, the murderer's sin, of countless number of other people's sin fell on Jesus. The weight. The heaviness. The same heaviness I felt squeezing my chest tight and wringing the tears from my eyes times a billion.
But He was innocent. Completely blameless. Yet He chose it. He chose the suffering. He chose to feel the full weight of sin.
So, my heart aches, but it finds joy and solace. It is my reward...to turn my attention from my sin to the perfect work of Jesus. Feeling a godly sorrow that leads to repentance. But..."forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize (the reward) of the upward call of God in Christ."
"Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us..." Galatians 3:13
"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:1 - 2
Now, I'm kind of a grumpy person when I don't eat food. Ask Matt or Audrey, and there's no "kind of" about it. It literally breaks me down. That means that when I walk into our sanctuary at 7 o'clock without food all day, I am raw. My spirit is raw, my emotions are raw. I am just plain vulnerable.
So last Wednesday, I had a breakdown of sorts. Opportunity to sin crept in and my flesh reacted with ferocity. Sitting in the 90's-style teal-blue chairs in the sanctuary, I broke into tears. A flood opened up. I felt the weight of my sin. The weight of self-pity and striving to live life on my terms. It was heavy. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't control the tears, they just poured forth whether I liked it or not. Little did I know that that was my reward.
I ran across this text yesterday: And when you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces that their fasting may be seen by others. Truly I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, that your fasting may not be seen by others but by your Father who is in secret. and your Father who sees in secret will reward you. (Matthew 6:16 - 18)
Our reward may not come wrapped in the package we think it should...it may not have pink and white polka dotted paper or beautiful ribbon...it might be a little bit ugly. It might come wrapped in toilet paper. Or tears. Or heaviness. Or feeling the weight of our sin.
So I was thinking about the weight of sin. And I was thinking about Jesus. And I was thinking about the cross. The full weight of my sin, of Matt's sin, of the woman caught in adultery's sin, of the thief's sin, of Saul, the murderer's sin, of countless number of other people's sin fell on Jesus. The weight. The heaviness. The same heaviness I felt squeezing my chest tight and wringing the tears from my eyes times a billion.
But He was innocent. Completely blameless. Yet He chose it. He chose the suffering. He chose to feel the full weight of sin.
So, my heart aches, but it finds joy and solace. It is my reward...to turn my attention from my sin to the perfect work of Jesus. Feeling a godly sorrow that leads to repentance. But..."forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize (the reward) of the upward call of God in Christ."
"Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us..." Galatians 3:13
"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:1 - 2
Saturday, January 12, 2008
The Word to Sustain the Weary
Today has been a heavy-hearted day for me. I am thankful that He supplied me with a word to sustain me...a beautiful word...Grace.
"He's a God of glorious grace. God's grace means that I can rest assured that I'll have everything I need to be what he wants me to be and to do what he wants me to do in the situation in which he's placed me. I'm no longer restricted to the limits of my own strength and wisdom. By his grace, I've a new identity and a new potential. I'm a child of God; the risen Christ now lives inside of me. I need no longer fear people or circumstances; I don't have to feel weak in the face of suffering or temptation, because I no longer rest in the resources of my own ability. I'm in Christ and he's in me. This new identity gives me new potential as I face the realities of life in this bent and broken world. God's grace gives me reason to 'take heart.'"
(Taken from Paul Tripp's blog)
"He's a God of glorious grace. God's grace means that I can rest assured that I'll have everything I need to be what he wants me to be and to do what he wants me to do in the situation in which he's placed me. I'm no longer restricted to the limits of my own strength and wisdom. By his grace, I've a new identity and a new potential. I'm a child of God; the risen Christ now lives inside of me. I need no longer fear people or circumstances; I don't have to feel weak in the face of suffering or temptation, because I no longer rest in the resources of my own ability. I'm in Christ and he's in me. This new identity gives me new potential as I face the realities of life in this bent and broken world. God's grace gives me reason to 'take heart.'"
(Taken from Paul Tripp's blog)
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Kobe
Our first family experience at Kobe Sushi & Steaks...
Family Pic!
The walruses.
Reid's reaction to the chef catching the cooktop on fire. Terror & Awe.
Family Pic!
The walruses.
Reid's reaction to the chef catching the cooktop on fire. Terror & Awe.
Monday, January 7, 2008
My Prima Ballerina
Audrey started a ballet/tap class today. Aside from taking a few classes last year, this is pretty new to her. Though she loves to dance, she loves what she gets to wear even more.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Venture 2
Our church has this thing we do every once in a while...pretty much whenever we feel the Lord moving us that way. We think we know how it will go...what will be said...what we will ask of the Lord. Then God steps in and says, "Here's why I've gathered over 500 people in your building for an hour and a half." That sort of happened last night.
Last night, we praised and worshiped the Lord in His Greatness through song and through intercession. Particularly, we interceded for three families in our midst who are experiencing the Greatness of God through the trial of pain and suffering. That almost sounds like a paradox...surely a juxtaposition within the sentence. I can't begin to imagine the ache of their experiences but I can feel the heartache of laboring with them in prayer. And how it is labor.
If you're up to it, I would appreciate your prayers for the following families:
The Ledbetters (whom I have posted about before)
The Steinbachs
Del & Gerry Steele (Del is an elder and a "father" of our church; he is battling an aggressive cancer.)
Thank you.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
The Question That Saved Our Marriage
Let me preface this post with two clarifications. First, our marriage was "sticking" no matter what. Divorce was never an option. The title of this post could more accurately be "The Question That Brought Greater Joy, Depth and Life to Our Marriage." I just like the other title. More eye-catching, I think. Second, I was inspired by my husband's message tonight. If you want to hear it for yourself, go to The Village Church podcast on iTunes. Wait until Monday though. It won't be on there yet. Sorry. Now that that's out of the way, here we go...
I was the ultimate good girl. Church was my second home; youth group, my perfected extra-curricular activity. I played by the rules. Mostly. Outside of a month of outward rebellion (emphasis on outward) in my junior year of high school, I was the golden child. I'm pretty sure I was what every parent thinks they want in their child. Submissive. Compliant. Polite.
However, no one tells you there are deeply rooted, insufficient cisterns that are hewed out by and inside the good girl. They're deceptively devastating, cloaking themselves in the fabric of lies like "it's the Christian thing to do" or "just stuff the emotion and do it."
Now, put that broken line of thinking into a marriage. That was me.
We had issues, just like every other couple. It was the same argument, the same frustration, the same disappointment, the same resolutions over and over again. It was insanity. Everything would be going along swimmingly for about a month and then something would set it off. We would be thrown into the same whirlpool, trying to cling to some common ground. Eventually, Matt grabbed a life line. He started going to counseling to deal with his hurts and hang-ups. I, on the other hand, continued to swirl round and round in disappointment in myself and in my resolution to "get my act together" and "be the wife I should be."
I just needed to read the Bible more. I just needed to commit to think of and serve Matt selflessly. I just needed to anticipate his needs. I just needed....
I just needed to ask the right question.
Repeat the above six times a year for six years. Yes, SIX years. Picture a night of tossing and turning after a heated discussion. Imagine feeling helpless and nauseated. Envision standing on your back porch asking yourself if this is what life will always look like. Failure. Disappointment. Pure and utter self-centeredness. MY self-centeredness.
I look back on that night and am thankful in two ways: I'm thankful that it happened and I'm thankful that it happened...it is in the past and not now! I finally gave up making the list of all my "shoulds." I finally asked the question of God...
"How?"
Before that night, I thought I knew how. Puffed up in pride, I had pulled out the paper with my presumptuous plan, smoothed the wrinkles and proceeded to read my solutions to the problem. This time, however, I was out of solutions. I had no plan. I could only listen. Listen to my husband's plea for me to hear. Listen to the Lord's plea for me to bow down and humble myself.
I had to admit that I needed help.
The prideful little good girl within me trembled in her pew. Could I possibly confess to being imperfect? Gasp.
The answer to my how came in the Center for Christian Counseling.
How: the question that saved our marriage. I pray that if someone out there reads this and it resonates with you, don't be afraid to ask how. More importantly, don't be afraid to wait for the answer and then obey.
I was the ultimate good girl. Church was my second home; youth group, my perfected extra-curricular activity. I played by the rules. Mostly. Outside of a month of outward rebellion (emphasis on outward) in my junior year of high school, I was the golden child. I'm pretty sure I was what every parent thinks they want in their child. Submissive. Compliant. Polite.
However, no one tells you there are deeply rooted, insufficient cisterns that are hewed out by and inside the good girl. They're deceptively devastating, cloaking themselves in the fabric of lies like "it's the Christian thing to do" or "just stuff the emotion and do it."
Now, put that broken line of thinking into a marriage. That was me.
We had issues, just like every other couple. It was the same argument, the same frustration, the same disappointment, the same resolutions over and over again. It was insanity. Everything would be going along swimmingly for about a month and then something would set it off. We would be thrown into the same whirlpool, trying to cling to some common ground. Eventually, Matt grabbed a life line. He started going to counseling to deal with his hurts and hang-ups. I, on the other hand, continued to swirl round and round in disappointment in myself and in my resolution to "get my act together" and "be the wife I should be."
I just needed to read the Bible more. I just needed to commit to think of and serve Matt selflessly. I just needed to anticipate his needs. I just needed....
I just needed to ask the right question.
Repeat the above six times a year for six years. Yes, SIX years. Picture a night of tossing and turning after a heated discussion. Imagine feeling helpless and nauseated. Envision standing on your back porch asking yourself if this is what life will always look like. Failure. Disappointment. Pure and utter self-centeredness. MY self-centeredness.
I look back on that night and am thankful in two ways: I'm thankful that it happened and I'm thankful that it happened...it is in the past and not now! I finally gave up making the list of all my "shoulds." I finally asked the question of God...
"How?"
Before that night, I thought I knew how. Puffed up in pride, I had pulled out the paper with my presumptuous plan, smoothed the wrinkles and proceeded to read my solutions to the problem. This time, however, I was out of solutions. I had no plan. I could only listen. Listen to my husband's plea for me to hear. Listen to the Lord's plea for me to bow down and humble myself.
I had to admit that I needed help.
The prideful little good girl within me trembled in her pew. Could I possibly confess to being imperfect? Gasp.
The answer to my how came in the Center for Christian Counseling.
How: the question that saved our marriage. I pray that if someone out there reads this and it resonates with you, don't be afraid to ask how. More importantly, don't be afraid to wait for the answer and then obey.
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