Do you know my Jesus?

I know He doesn’t look like the pictures I’ve seen since childhood.

I know He loves me more than I will ever be able to fathom.

I know that He cares about the details of my life, the lives of teen girls and the lives of all that read this.

I know that He works ALL things for good and hears every prayer.

I know that He died for my sins and because of that God sees me as righteous.

I know there are people I love that don’t know Him.

I know I want them to know Him the way I do.

I know He can set them free…from bondage, strongholds, addictions and pain.

I know that I pray everyday they will allow Him to do so.

I know He wants them to believe.

I know He loves them and died for their redemption and yours, same as He did for mine.

I know if you ask me how I know all this, I could talk for hours.

Do you know my Jesus?  I would be honored to introduce you to Him.

Modern Day Miracle

Who would have thought that a rickety roller coaster and a sweltering day at a cheesy quaint amusement park could bridge huge holes of the heart?

God.

Who would have thought that the day would be full of smiles and fun, rather than anxiety and angst?

God.

Who would have thought that racing go-karts together (see daddy way there in the back, ha!) would be freeing in so many ways?

God.

Who knew that this mama’s heart would behold {all} her children reunited on this side of heaven?

God.

Saturday was a very special day for our family.  It was the first time we had all been together, the five of us, in the same place at the same time in THREE years!

God gave me a gift that I had given up on a long time ago. 

And I have been unwrapping it ever since!

{If you haven’t been here long and this post confuses you, you can read some of the back story here and here.}

The B-I-B-L-E

I remember my first Bible.  It was a purple Precious Moments Bible with my name on it that someone {maybe a relative?} gave me when I was around eight.  I treasured that Bible but can’t say that I read it much or understood what I did read.

Thankfully, my kids have grown up in an era when the Bible is translated into words they can understand.  Couple that with the creative folks at Tyndale Publishing and you have the Hands-On Bible- an interactive Bible that my youngest son, Matt, has been enjoying since it arrived in the mail earlier this week.

Here are some things I am impressed with:

• The graphics are “cool” and engaging.  They draw my son in to want to read more and learn more about the stories they depict.
• There is a feature called “Bible Hero Biographies” that really pique a boy’s interest by making the people in the Bible stories relatable and interesting.  Every boy loves a good hero!
• There are “hands on Bible experiences” throughout the Bible that my son has been enjoying.  He has already completed several in just the few days he has had this Bible. (I will share my favorite at the end of this post).  Science experiments, crafts, snack ideas, journaling…true hands-on learning is encouraged in this Bible.

I also like the NLT (New Living Translation) for kids this age.  Matt understands what he reads in a way other translations have not provided him, which is great!  I also appreciate the effort the publishers put into the bonus interactive website, My Hands on Bible, that provides parents with additional resources and ideas (devotions, music and more) for making the Bible interesting and relevant to our kids.

Before I tell you about the contest going on over at the Hands on Bible site (think pizza, Bibles and family fun), I wanted to share one of the activities Matt recently completed from his Hands on Bible.

In the Hands on Bible, it was being explained that Psalm 119 is written as an acrostic poem, except in the Hebrew alphabet.  Then the activity was for kids to make an acrostic poem of their own, using their first name and words that describe God. Here is Matthew’s (spelling errors included =)

M- Maker

A- All-Knowing

T- Tollerent

T- True

H- Holy

E- Extrordinary

W- Willing

Isn’t that awesome?  The Word coming alive to our kids? Nothing better!

So, head on over to their website and check out this awesome Bible and an opportunity to win big!  I will be heading over to purchase one for my six year old nephew!

I was provided a complimentary copy of the Hands On Bible for review.  All opinions are mine (and my child’s) and were not influenced by anyone else.  Thank you to the MOB Society for facilitating this review!

How long must I wait?

I am battling an anxious heart.

Not over anything major or even specific.

But an unsettled, on-my-way-to-where-I’m-supposed-to-be type of place.

Yet, I don’t even know where I’m supposed to be.

I think I do.  My hubby and I disagree about the route to take.

And, I ask.  How long, God?  How long before you give me the answers to these {important to me} questions.  A glance at the road map, perhaps?  A hint at the mode of transportation you want us to use?  A sliver of the plan you have in mind?

And, God asks.  How long, Melissa?  How long before you humble yourself before me? {Exodus 10:3} How long before you surrender to whatever it is that lies ahead?  How long before you stop needing to know the answers and are content to trust me…how long?

I hold the key to my own captivity. 

He stands at the door and knocks.  I’m the one that wants the itinerary before opening the door. 

Today, I am opening the door anyway.  Resting in the promise of Nahum 1:7

The Lord is good, a refuge in times of trouble.  He cares for those who trust in Him.

Help me trust, God.  Help me delight in the wait.  Help me delight in the not knowing.  Help me delight in You.

 

He loves me anyway

Prayer is the place where I’m invited to present the parts of myself that no one else sees to a God who already knows and loves me anyway. Margaret Feinberg

Do you ever go to battle with yourself?  I do.

I make plans (good plans) and God changes them.

I liked my plans and consider going ahead with them, even though I know they are outside of His will for me.

I rationalize until I convince myself that my plans are really God’s plans too.

I suppress the conviction that gently, yet steadily, taps on my heart.

And, sometimes I forge ahead and make a big mess with my plans.

But, more often than not, I have started, ultimately, listening to that tapping on my heart.  Knowing that in it lies my best interest, regardless of my plans.

And the One who stands at the door and gently taps, He loves me anyway.  Always.  He doesn’t tire of my inward dialogue.  He doesn’t think “why do I put up with this crazy, stubborn girl”?  He created me, He knows how I am. 

And He loves me anyway.

Unwrapping the gift of His unconditional love here today.

When you mess up in marriage

Sometimes I think that God is bound and determined for me to air every mistake I have ever made on this here blog ‘o mine.  Today the topic for Wifey Wednesday is “When you are the one who blew it”. 

I have blown it in my marriage.  Many times.  In many ways. 

I will share with you the BIG one that God laid on my heart when I saw the topic.

I STINK at managing money.  Always have and it is something that God (and my hubby) have taught me a lot about over the years.  I teach on it now (God has a full circle sense of humor). Finances are a major issue for my husband because he grew up in a poor family and has taught himself a lot about biblical stewardship. He helps people in our lives that need assistance in building a budget, etc.

Yet, he married me.

We have had issues in our marriage related to money.  I had credit cards he didn’t know about.  Not once, not twice but three different times over the years.  It is an issue we dealt with in marriage counseling. 

He grew to trust me. Again. 

Then in 2007, I wanted to do something.  It was a good something, but not a God something.  Mike supported me with the stipulation that I was completely honest and transparent with him about finances.

Long story short, I wasn’t.  I was stubborn and determined not to fail and racked up over $100,000 in credit card debt for this good something.  And my husband had no idea.

When he would ask how I paid for something, I would act offended that he would question my honesty.  When he would ask for documentation, I would cry about how he didn’t trust me. 

I had a financial affair.  And I justified it, rationalized it and the problem grew bigger and bigger and bigger.

I sunk into a deep depression because I didn’t know a way out.  This good something had people depending on me.  The credit cards were reaching their limits.  I was in denial about my physical issues.  I was hiding a huge secret from my husband and family and friends.

I was having a financial affair.

When I came clean (which was not because I wanted to but because I didn’t have a choice) our marriage imploded.  It had been several years since I had betrayed him this way and never like THIS. 

The look on his face broke my heart into a million pieces.

He fixed it because he is a good man and that is what he does, he fixes things.  He had to go to family for help, which is something he abhors.  He had to deplete our hard earned savings. 

We are still recovering from this massive act of betrayal.  I didn’t know if he would ever trust me again and trust is something that has returned very slowly. And that healing only came from our relationship with Jesus.

  What have I learned from being the betrayor in my marriage?

• I had to be patient with him and understand that my actions had serious and lasting ramifications.
• God is the only one that can bring healing and restoration to a marriage.
• Time does heal wounds.  And you can’t be the one to set the time limit.
• Learn to speak your spouse’s love language and speak it fluently.
• Pray, pray and pray some more.
• Forgive yourself.  There is no condemnation in Christ and if you are busy beating yourself up, you won’t be able to focus on healing your relationship with your spouse.
• Let them deal with it in their own way.  Don’t force them to talk to you, to reassure you, to make you feel better. 
• Seek professional Christian counseling.  If the issue is too big for the two of you to deal with on your own, seek help from a pastor or Christian counselor that you trust and respect.  There is no shame in asking for help.

Our story has a happy ending.  We will celebrate our 13th anniversary in July.  In many ways, the difficulties we have faced in our marriage have made us stronger, more accepting of one another and deepened our commitment to be in this forever.  It is hard to see that outcome when you are in the midst of a betrayal so please remember this:

There is always hope when God is the head of your union.

Listening to the still, small voice

I have been having some (not so fun) issues with my left leg in the last few weeks.  My doctor(s) attributed it to my MS and put me on a steroid dose pack.  While that reduced the swelling on the MRI, it did not resolve the problem.  What is the problem? Muscle atrophy.

Atrophy (according to Wikipedia) is the partial or complete wasting away of a part of the body (in this case my left leg).

God has a whole post about atrophy in His body (the church) swirling around in my brain.  But, that will come at another time.

This post is about how God speaks to us.  He didn’t just speak to people in Bible times and then stop.  His Holy Spirit lives in us and guides us- if we listen.

Yesterday, returning from the doctor I was not in a happy place.  Trying to digest the fact that my muscle is atrophy-ing (no idea if that is a word) and they don’t know why and they don’t know how to stop it was overwhelming.  Making the appointments for all the tests they want to do to figure out the cause of the problem was overwhelming.  Trying to figure out how to discuss all this with my husband without him panicking was overwhelming.  Letting myself think of how unfair it is to have MS, Lupus and now- something else causing this issue- was overwhelming.

I had brought my Bible along for the ride (cause I can’t drive right now) but couldn’t bring myself to open it.  I did, however, turn on the radio and one of my favorite songs that we sing at church came on.  The song is “I will Rise” by Chris Tomlin.  There are many words that instantly touched my heart but here is the line that grabbed my soul:

There’s a peace I’ve come to know
Though my heart and flesh may fail
There’s an anchor for my soul
I can say “It is well”

Jesus has overcome
And the grave is overwhelmed
The victory is won
He is risen from the dead

Overwhelmed?  How about the fact that Jesus overwhelmed the grave?  That is overwhelming, not my temporary, temporal circumstances.

Feeling still a tad angry, I said to God “help me”.  And three words came to my mind (and I know that I know that I know God put them there)

Check your medications.

Clear as day and something that none of my doctor’s had bothered to do.  As soon as I got home I googled muscle wasting and the names of my medications.  Second med I typed in had a big warning about this problem.  Not trusting myself, I called my pharmacy.  My pharmacist researched it, called me back and said “Call your doctor right now.  You need to have some blood work done”.

Yes, I have called my doctor and yes, they are on top of it.

But, isn’t God awesome?  And, what if I had continued in my overwhelming pity party and not reached out to Him?  Would I have heard that still, small voice?

Hearing God is a finer thing!

Flowers fade

I am not a gardener.

I am pretty sure both my thumbs are black.

When we downsized and moved in December, I didn’t pay much attention the landscaping on our new home’s lot.

I was so pleasantly surprised a few weeks ago when pretty pink bushes bloomed out front.  A luscious purple bush in the back, with a perfect view from the screened in porch. And then, my favorite, the bluish purple flowers that are weaving their way up our lamp post in the front yard.

I am not a gardener.

I don’t know a chrysanthemum from a forsynthia but I do know pretty when I see it.

I appreciate the beauty of the flowers and at the same time I realize that under my lethal eye, those plants probably won’t last long.

My flower has faded these past few days.  Withered in pain and fatigue from an illness that is sneaky and demanding.

And, the gift of today is knowing that no matter what flower fades in my life, my God and His Word are the same.  Yesterday. Today. Forever.

What a gift.

  Join us in unwrapping our gifts here today.

Radically Changed

She was pretty.

She was fast.

She was fun.

She was purple (Tungsten grey to be exact).

She was an impulsive, reckless choice.

She was part of my American dream.

I really thought I had arrived, way back in May 2006, when the hubby and I purchased my pretty, fast, fun and purple Mustang with racing stripes.  I was rapidly climbing the corporate ladder and drowning out the call of the Holy Spirit by working harder, spending harder and “accomplishing” as much as I possibly could.

It took a while but the Holy Spirit won.  Through the dark valleys of 2007 and 2008 and the roller coaster of following God’s lead in 2009, He won.  I am so glad He did. 

But, to be completely honest, I often find myself mentioning how much I miss my car.

And after reading chapter one of Radical (Taking Back Your Faith from the American Dream) as a family last night, it literally sickens me to admit that.  But, I need to. 

We need to.

I need to have the courage to admit to myself and to the world that our culture has watered down the gospel.  That Jesus did not say the American dream was His dream.  We have allowed ourselves to spin the Bible in a way that is comfortable to us yet despicable to Christ.

My family and I had tears in our eyes realizing the many ways we have bought into commercialized Christianity. We are actually looking forward (in a painful sort of way) to the ways that chapter 2 and beyond will stretch and grow us.  I want the promise of eternal satisfaction to be enough for me.

God has been growing our family to take in these words.  We see that now.  It may not be comfortable, we may not understand or even like the doors it opens but we see.  We are being radically changed by taking another look at what Jesus meant when He said “follow me”.  (Matthew 4:19).  I am not going to settle for a token donation to a face on my refrigerator every month.  I am going to learn to forsake, to follow, to surrender ALL. 

All to the One that came to die for me.  All to the One that bids me “come and die”.

I am trading my American dream in for a fishing pole.  Join me?

Memories

Have you ever wrestled with memories? 

Memories can evoke the warm fuzzies, can make us smile or laugh out loud.  Memories can remind us how blessed we are and can get us through a difficult time.

Memories can also be painful, reminding us of a time of despair or sorrow.  Memories can make us weep, cringe and cause us to shake our heads at the decisions we have made in the past.

God’s memory is something that we can’t comprehend. 

He has the ability to forget our sins- as far as the east is from the west so far has He removed our transgressions from us Psalm 103:12.  God takes our sins and hurls all our iniquities into the depths of the sea Micah 7:19.

God has not seemed to share that gift with us and I am kind of glad He didn’t.  Remembering my sin(s) is one of the things that keeps me from repeating them.  Remembering where God has brought me from keeps me thankful and humble.  Being able to share my memories, my story, with other’s for His glory is part of His plan for my life.

But sometimes there are things we don’t want to remember.  Painful, yucky things have happened to me and it is painful and yucky to remember them.  Sometimes memories don’t make sense.

For thirteen years my father and I did not speak.  That was my choice and mostly related to unpleasant memories of my childhood.

During that time I held onto my yucky and painful memories as rationale for continuing the broken relationship.  The strange thing, at least to me, was that every year, around the time of my birthday (my dad always made birthdays special) I would have two distinct positive memories of times with my dad.  Those memories were probably more painful to me than remembering some of the yucky ones because it made me uncomfortable with my decision to just cut my dad out of my life.

One memory was of a time when I was probably five or six years old and my dad and I made an art project out of the letters of my name.  He drew elaborate things that made my little girl self smile.

I hated those memories.  I look back on journals from those years and I was crying out to God to let me forget those “good” memories because they hurt so much.  They made me miss my dad and remember that my childhood wasn’t all bad. 

It was so much easier to hang on to my bitterness and anger when I remembered things as all bad.  But God wouldn’t allow that and I didn’t understand why.

Then, after this experience, when God really got a hold of me about relinquishing unforgiveness and restoring relationships, it was those very memories that I had cried out for God to remove that were the catalyst for restoring my relationship with my dad.  Reconciliation wouldn’t have occured if I only remembered the bad.

God is my Romans 8:28 God, His ways really are beyond our comprehension.  I begged Him to take those memories away and now I am so glad, that in His omnipotent wisdom, He didn’t answer that prayer the way I thought I wanted it answered.

Memories are a gift from God.

  What are some of your favorite memories?

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