Faith

Children / Faith / God Found in the Everyday — 12 Comments
14
Jan 12

Musing on Who Are You and What Have You Done With My Daughter?

“Little clean houses for you and me…”  insert John Mellencamp voice and music.

My theme for the last few days.

Travelling and work this week (along with the needs of a family of five) have left our house in critical condition and in a slow state of recovery from holiday decorating.

As I lay awake at 3:30 this morning, I ruminated on two things.

1. My mother had a person help out with the house two days a week.

2. And a few years ago, as a new writer, I attended the Florida Christian Writer’s Conference. I sat in on a multi-day devotional workshop with long time Upper Room Editorial Director, Mary Lou Redding.

At lunch after one of the sessions, I asked her the universal writer’s lament: How do I find time to write?

Nice woman that she was, she listened to all my todos and to-don’ts.

And this is what I remembered in the middle of the night.

Talking a bite of an apple she said, “Find some help cleaning your house or let it go. There is no other way.”

DANG. That’s like hearing God talk.

Let it go.

 

*    *    *

7 p.m. a very tired Mr. Miles came through the door.

We jettisoned plans to go to gym, poured some adult beverages and sat.

“I sat there with Johnny. We sat there, we two. And how wonderful it was we had nothing to do.”   Except talk and drink.

After a bit, we noticed the house was quiet. Too quiet.

Our daughter ran in breathless.

“I’ve got something to show you. You have to come together.”

We walked to our closed bedroom door.

Then it hit me. Just like it hit me the second before Johnny asked me to marry him.

She’s cleaned our bedroom.

The door opened and I had a Publishers-Clearing-House-knock-me-over moment.

 

 

 

And then this…

 

She organized my desk.  <<< Scream. Stomp feet. Clap hands. >>>

Yesterday, I wrote a reply on Facebook that “Mommy’s only get paid in love.”

Well, seems as if love turns into action when you least expect it.

And when you need it most.

Children / Faith — 1 Comment
29
Aug 11

Musing on the Fourth Commandment. O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree.

Yesterday, Sunday — the SABBATH — I had work to do.

Deepest conflicts of my soul Number 1,893:

I spend the majority of my Sunday afternoons in front of the computer.

Those of you who work from home can relate. It’s wonderful for many reasons, but you never rinse out your coffee cup, shut down the computer, and tuck your chair under your very tidy desk (because the desk in my fantasy office on the 79th floor of glass and steel is so neat it doubles on weekends as an out-patient surgery table).

You never leave.

For some odd reason, it’s been on my heart that I have been a blatant violator of the Fourth Commandment.

This seems rather odd. But really, what isn't these days? (And for once. I have nothing to do with this typo.)

 

“Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God.”

Before no adultery and no murder. No work on Sunday.

Like most things in bible, it makes perfect sense.

All that work, rush, mothering, wifely-business 24/7 earns you is a spectacular view from a corner rubber-room at Bedlam.

* * *

Alas (though all psyched to honor the 4th Commandment), I worked yesterday…stepping over the contents from attic down the street that I still need to carry upstairs into our attic.

 

 * * *

Deepest confession of my soul Number 592: Children are plants not moles.

They need to be out in the fresh air running free, getting sun-burnt and sweaty — not pale-faced and carpal-tunneled playing video games.

So Sunday, I slammed shut the television cabinet, opened the back door and said, “Be creative.”

* * *

They were quiet and I worked. And worked and worked and worked.

Then I began to worry because it was so quiet.

I went into my son’s room. Do you see the Christmas tree box pictured above? In his room, its contents were a blaze and the floor littered with bits of construction paper – castoffs from ornaments they were busily creating.

The only reason that tree won’t be up from now till December 25 is because they couldn’t find all the legs to make it stand.

* * *

See what happens when you break the Fourth Commandment?

* * *

What have your children done while you were so happy, working away because they were quiet?  Too quiet.

Faith / Fish / Uncategorized — 3 Comments
19
Aug 11

Oscar is Gone. (A Muse gone sad.)

Yesterday morning I went into my son’s bedroom.

Each morning Oscar greeteth me (Oscar, the white Oscar fish.)

He gets exciteth to see someone’s shadow falleth across the tank. For that meaneth food.

Wiggling, cavorting.

Yesterday there was no wiggle, no giggle, no white wriggling fish.

No Oscar.

Immediately I deduced something had gone terribly awry.

My son turned over every shell in the tank. He lifted Squidward’s house.

No Oscar. I looked on the floor. I looked and looked.

Then I saw…eeww.

Child started crying….I ran to get a bag. Our Oscar had grown big.

Now he was big, lifeless and sticky.

 * * *

I dropped the kids off and headed to Wal*Mart.

Oscar was gone and I wanted a replacement NOW.

First off, I bought an aquarium topper. (No need to witness that carnage again.)

There was one lone Oscar.

As white as our dear Oscar was — this guy was black.

I bought him.

I brought him home.

He almost died. If you count laying on his side at the bottom of the tank a bad sign.

Our pest control specialist, Steve, came by to rid the house of bugs.

“In heavens name, I’ve killed another fish,” I said…wringing my hands. “And this one’s been in my care about two hours.”

Steve suggested I bag him  and carry him down to fish department for a refund.

He was the last one.

He had to live.

I prayed.

He lived.

My son asked what his name should be.

I nameth him…

Felix.

Have you ever prayed over a fish, frog…or any wee vertabrate?

(Don’t know if I would prayeth to heal a sick invertabrate. Only if it was really cute or had lots of personality.)

 

 

 

 

 

Faith / Life in Madison / WOF — No Comments
11
Aug 11

Today’s Muse. If you snooze you lose a Woman of Faith ticket.

Once again I have over-committed.

Okay. That’s coming from my spin-master self.

I mismanaged my time with commitments and won’t be able to attend the Woman of Faith conference at Philips Arena tomorrow, Friday, August 12.

Shelia Walsh, Luci Swindoll, Natalie Grant, Mary Mary, Steve Arterburn are among those who will be speaking and performing.

I hope to go Saturday, but there is no way I can go tomorrow. Someone PLEASE take my ticket and go.

It’s a gift.

You will be sitting amongst a great group of women — some of which were pictured in  yesterday’s post.

If you can go both days, that’s great too.

I trust the Lord in all things….and I know he knows I’m a mess when it comes to planning ahead for deadlines.

There is someone He has in mind for this ticket.

Please leave comment, DM on Twitter or Facebook — or call if you’d like to go.

God bless all.

Now “Hi Ho, Hi Ho”… back to work I go.

 

 

Faith / Running — 2 Comments
4
Jul 11

Musing on complete honesty.

I always try to be completely honest with you.

Even if that may not hold me in a flattering light.

I did not run the Peachtree Road Race for the umpteenth time this morning. Say this with sincere apologies to Stork who fixed my car yesterday so it would be ready at 5 in the morning when I needed it.

I didn’t sleep in either. I just didn’t get up at 4 and drive into Atlanta to start the race with my wave at 9:05.

I woke up in the middle of the night and thought of all the work that I wanted done before family comes to visit in a little less than a week.

It would be afternoon before I got home — then I wanted to do something holiday-ish with my family.

So not a lot of writing today if I laced up my Vomeros and headed into the city.

I chose to get up early and write.

I felt sad like a wet noodle for a minute. Especially when my husband acted surprised I didn’t run.

He usually encourages me not to run these things. If he was surprised, D*mn, I surely made the wrong choice.

Life doesn’t go as planned. I’m more flexible in my spirit. Things that used to make my inside ball up like some mass of twine at the bottom of my grandfather’s utility closet flow through me now.

This morning sadness about missing the race dammed up inside for about 20 minutes — then it spilled over the wall — leaving me free to work.

I didn’t need another incredibly cool Peachtree t-shirt anyway.

How are you these days?

Dammed, flooded or flowing peacefully…

Faith / Life in Madison — No Comments
24
Jun 11

Musing on God’s timing.

Today was one of those days I was here and there, everywhere in my car.

Lost in thought about what I had to do, I left my rather large (you can’t miss it purse)in the shopping cart at the carrel in the Walmart parking lot. Some nice man throwing away a bit a trash called to me  about it — after I was already in my car about to sped off.

If the man didn’t walk to the trash can at the cart carrel at the time I was leaving — later on today I would have experienced that wonderful creeping panic that starts when you realize your purse is not within the four wall of your house or four doors of your car.

After retrieving my purse, I run downtown to deliver something to a friend.

Then I drive home, turn off the car, then spy a library book. (an overdue library book.)

I crank up the car to go to library and

dead battery.

Thank God I was in my driveway and not on the square downtown or in the Walmart parking lot.

I could have been without my purse, downtown with a dead battery trying not to have a large, raucous pity-party.

 Sometime God is just so very good.

Faith — No Comments
8
Jun 11

Musing on memorizing a scripture that even a saturated brain can grasp.

I saw a friend yesterday.

She’s a beautiful dark-skinned woman whose personality is three times the size of mine.

And she’s filled with God. No, I’ll be more specific.

She’s filled with Jesus.

That’s why I love it when she stops by…even if I’m frantically running around, once I stop and talk with her I get filled.

Yesterday she was talking about her struggles. And I was talking about my battles and she started quoting scripture.

Long beautiful passages, in her beautiful southern, deep voice.

See, I believe there’s power in speaking God’s word.

Problem is my brain just can’t remember things now, no matter how hard I try. I write stuff on cards..I make it a goal to have a really good one memorized in a week, which turns into two…

I just end up writing it down on a card day after day. My brain is flippn waterlogged.

But I found a verse that’s short, to the point that I’ve memorized and whip out in just about every situation.

“I love you, O Lord, my strength.” Psalm 18:1.

When the kitchen is a wreck and I’m behind in everything in life.

“I love you, O Lord, my strength.”

When I need to get the cats to the vet in 10 minutes and they are no where to be seen.

“I love you, O Lord, my strength.”

When I have to hear of another man who sends women, who aren’t their wives, pictures of certain body appendages (and I’m not talking noses) or

of men who father untold children by women who aren’t wearing their wedding band (Men here’s a PSA – to most women this makes you look weird and extremely pathetic.)

“I love you, O Lord, my strength.

When my children do odd, infuriating, unbelievable things, I have no earthly idea the best way to encourage, discipline, calm, bandage.

“I love you, O Lord, me strength.”

I don’t have the strength. But God does. He’ll fill me with wisdom and power and even … dare I say it…peace.

What to you murmur under your breath when human capacity fails?

And now to the kitchen.

Faith — 2 Comments
8
May 11

Musing on prayer. Before wok or work.

Recently, I was having a down spell. A low energy, low creativity, low — well, you get the picture. These times are as much a part of life as the up spells, even for those of us who try to be funny.

I was weepy at everything. At the practice for my daughter’s piano recital I cried when one girl played the theme from Beauty and Beast. I mean it’s a beautiful melody, but ~ good grief.

But two friends, from two very different places, sent me two very different messages, on a particularly difficult day. 

The woman who shared the following prayer, asked me to pass it along. So I shall pass it along to you.

For if you somehow happened upon this, you might need to read it as I did the day she gave it to me.

PRAYER BEFORE STARTING WORK

My Heavenly Father, as I enter this work place,
I bring Your presence with me.
I speak Your peace, Your grace, Your mercy,
and Your perfect order into this office.
I acknowledge Your power over all that
will be spoken, thought, decided, and done within these walls.
Lord, I thank You for the gifts You have blessed me with.
I commit to using them responsibly in Your honor.
Give me a fresh supply of strength to do my job.
Anoint my projects, ideas, and energy,
so that even my smallest accomplishment
may bring You glory.
Lord, when I am confused, guide me.
When I am weary, energize me. When I am
burned out, infuse me with the light of the Holy Spirit.
May the work that I do and the way I do it bring
faith, joy, and a smile to all that I come in
contact with today. And oh Lord,
when I leave this place, give me traveling mercy.
Bless my family and home to be in order as I left it.
Lord, I thank you for everything You’ve done,
everything You’re doing, and everything You’re going to do.
In the Name of Jesus I pray, with much love and Thanksgiving….. Amen.

Columns / Faith / God Found in the Everyday / Lent — No Comments
21
Apr 11

Here Comes Peter Cottontail…Around the Far Turn.

Tears might be in vogue on Capitol Hill, but till the same can be said of Morgan County, best to stifle open emotional displays. As any closet weeper knows, movies are excellent places for a cleansing cry and by taking long drags on a straw; you can quickly regulate breathing to a pre-sob rate. Continue reading →

Faith / Lent — 2 Comments
19
Apr 11

Musing on the Forgotten Lent.

In the Christian calendar, this week is Holy Week.

I don’t feel very holy.

I don’t feel particularly evil.

I just don’t feel full.

Well, I do feel full of water — because I just drank two bottles. I’m staring at a third. Ugh.

I don’t feel full of reverence. Not that I’m  irreverent. My emotions aren’t engaged about Easter.

Then I think about Christ and my heart sighs.

I do feel his love; I just feel worn and tired and not caring whether I eat two mini Mr. Goodbars when I pledged to give up sweets for Lent.

I really don’t want them now.

There is a gallon of water sloshing around in my stomach.

Since this giving up sweets and introspection has been a bust the last 35–some odd days, starting today — I’m going to focus on him. Focus on that love I feel.

Block out tired, block out never good enough, block out those little Reese’s Peanut Butter Rabbits wrapped in foil I bought at the store yesterday.

Quiet and love.

It’s so much easier at 5:49 in the morning.

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