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Fabulous Dawn asked, “So, here is my question for you… what are you passionate about?… What issues or things burn in your heart?”
And it got me to thinkin’…
I am definitely passionate about… well… being passionate. Does that make sense?
See, I like to get excited.
Really. A lot.
And it’s embarassing. Because what God created in me to be the single flame scorching towards Him, burning with His Truth, quenched only by His spirit, I tend to use like a cheap Zippo, flicking it around here and there, whenever I feel like it. Ugh…
The worst part is definitely the misuse of what He created, but followed extremely closely by what that misuse of passion does.
See, the flame — whether ignited in a small flicker or in a blow-torch intensity — has the power to do tremendous damage when unleashed anywhere it isn’t meant to go. Smokey the Bear reminded all us ’80s children that only we can prevent forest fires because it only takes a match to start a forest fire. It only takes three words of my mis-directed, ill-informed passion to completely wipe out the shade and strength of friendship. It takes one white-hot blast of passion to annihilate the lush greenery of intimacy. It only takes a half-hearted spark, a thoughtless sputter, to begin a smoldering mess that slowly eats away the solid and the present, leaving nothing but ashes that cover what was in dirt and doubt in anything that might someday be. And it only takes a harsh critical wind, a drop of envy or jealousy or discontentment to completely extinguish what flame is there.
The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the LORD
for the display of his splendor.
Isaiah 61:1-3
And there it is.
The only hope I have.
Jesus has come to release me from the captivity of my own directionless passion. He has come to bring me out of the darkness of my own smoke.
And, O my SWEET LORD has come to give me beauty instead of ashes!
Ah, to behold His hand creating something lovely, beneficial, growing, reconciliatory, useful, needed — out of the scorched earth my raging fire has laid bare — what a gift! What a completely unmerited gift!
And the best part? It says He has come to give me the oil of gladness instead of mourning! Hallelujah!
See, I understand that the oil here is primarily the kind that brings healing (like a balm or salve), but I also know that any oil will produce amazing flames! And a quality oil will burn a pure, bright, vibrant fire with little smoke and amazing color! According to my amazing scholar husband, that’s why God asked for the firstfruits from the olive press be burned in the Temple — the first oil was the purest, so it burned the sweetest aroma with the least smoke or residue. PRAISE HIS NAME, that’s what He’s given to me — His very best that I may burn purely, centeredly for Him, shimmering with a glow that is only possible with the heat of HIS passionate heart, ablaze intensely without producing smoke that dims the sight of His face or clouds the purpose of the passion.
So here I am, LORD. All this is much easier to type than to embrace, because I genuinely like to be excited. Thank You for the passion that You placed in my heart, now may I offer back the charred remains of what I’ve done with it? Please teach me YOUR purposes; inscribe Your Word on my heart, may I live and breathe it. Because I have to echo my brother, Paul: that which I LONG to do, I don’t do, and that which I want desperately avoid, I do. Holy God, the greatest accessible miracle is that Your strength is made perfect in my weakness. So here it is. I release the fuse, I surrender the ignition, and I repent for all the smoke I’ve caused. Thank You for loving me… anyway. May the light of my passion burn brightly before You to be a sweet smelling aroma of worship, and may that light shine before others that they may see my works and praise You, my Father in Heaven.
I am not worthy of You, O LORD,
but I am grateful!
Jesus, I am GRATEFUL.
OOooooo weeeeee….. I AM blessed!
Got a Holy Spirit spankin’ today. It was good. It was really, REALLY good.
I’ve learned that I’m only accountable for the Truth I know — that with each moment, God will redeem the past, be present in my present, and direct the future if I’m listening. If I’m listening.
Yesterday, my two favorite Ya-ya’s and I discussed (in two separate conversations) that the more we pour ourselves out in sacrificial obedience for others (most notably our families) the more refreshed we feel. Conversely, the days we indulge ourselves in the “Bon-bon Lifestyle” make us feel less fulfilled, twice as frustrated, crabby and tired. It’s weird.
And it’s all God’s economy.
His ways are foolishness to the perishing, and His widom truly confounds the wise.
My flesh would definitely, DEFINITELY say that staying up until 3-4am, sleeping until noon, lounging about all afternoon, eating dinner out, watching a movie or hanging out with friends, and then staying up late again would make me happy. My flesh woul then concede that if said schedule was an impossibility, then merely hanging out with my children, not touching my house, rustling up whatever didn’t bite me first for dinner, and staying up late would make me happy-er. Make sense? See, it does to me, too.
Because, I’m SELFISH. 
(obviously, your agreement does NOT denote your selfishness, it simply shows that God has given you discernment to pray for sad people like me… right???)
So why is it, on those days I do indulge, that I wind up feeling more miserable than when I started? Even worse, why do I feel more tired than the days I’m hitting it hard?
Here’s what happened today:
I got up joyfully this morning — seriously, I was READY for the day — and helped Little Bit and IttyBitty get ready for preschool. We were out the door on time, in the drop off line right before class, it was great. I came home, drank coffee, ate breakfast (which is a rare treat), and had my quiet time. Then I hit my kitchen; as I cleaned, I listened to some GREAT Bible teaching. After the kitchen was done, I sat down to answer a couple of emails and check on some business stuff for my husband. Then I picked up some in the living room and answered phone calls/msgs. By that time, I needed to go pick up angels. We got home and made sandwiches on my fabulous new Krups Sandwich Express (a Salvation Army find, another blog entirely!), the littles LOVED helping, and then we read and enjoyed each other and talked, then it was time for their naps. While they napped, I worked on the living room.
Then I lost momentum. For one thing, I was tired, but I was also lazy. Let me be honest.
Because, as my best friend so adeptly put it — when we don’t “feel” _____, our rebellion comes out in our schedules and our eating.
Ouch.
Sooooo… for the rest of naptime, I hung out on the computer. I sorta thought about what I was going to do for dinner. I talked on the phone.
I did nothing productive; not even rest (hey, sometimes the MOST profitable thing a mother can do is take a nap! I don’t care who you are or what your background or how you’re wired, sometimes, your body needs rest. Check Elijah’s experience if you don’t believe me).
So by the time the angels woke up, I had NO desire to do ANYTHING. Fortunately, that was FINE with them. We literally sat on the couch and played and talked for hours. Oh yes, and Mommy of the Year turned on the TV. (Hold your applause, please. Oh wait! You were just raising your hands in shock! HEY! I’m not that bad! They have on clean underwear and their teeth are brushed! I’m pretty sure!)
For dinner? Frozen pizza. And no, not the kind I milled the wheat, proofed it, froze it w/toppings in a handy bag for later. We’re talking Tostinos. Ewww I know. I ain’t proud; the Bible says to confess your sins one to another; consider me confessed. Just when you think it couldn’t get any worse, when I told my littles, “Guess what! We’re having PIZZA!!!” they ran to the front door looking for the pizza man. I’m not kidding. Proverbs 31 says, “She brings her food from afar” in our case, she can also have it delivered in 30 minutes or less. And her children know that. 
It was a quiet evening; we’re nearly done with our condensed classics version of Alice In Wonderland. Tomorrow, we’re driving to the northside of town to pick D up & hit a special exhibit at the convention center up there. So, really, a quiet evening and going to bed early was a good thing for them.
My niece got home from work at about 10:30 and brought home fries, chicken tenders, and homemade chips from the restaurant. And you know, I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so I ate it. And I stayed up to talk.
And now I’m staying up to tell you about it all. Isn’t that nice???
But here’s the deal — it wasn’t a waste. I can see what happened. I really was feelilng (not that feelings really matter in the great scheme of things) great while I was “on task.” Not that I want to be legalistic about stuff, but since schedule is my number one lack, it does ooze all over everything else. Now, I wouldn’t trade a moment for the laughs we shared on the couch today — I even made IttyBitty say “marble” for me again… heeeheeeheeee!!!!! — my children are not only my greatest joy, but if I’m going to ignore responsibilities, it’s DEFINITELY going to be in favor of time with them! I just LOVE it!
So I did learn today… was anything I did particularly sinful? Like, any moral violations? No, not nearly. My children were loved on, attended to, well fed, clothed, protected, our home was functional, pleasant, it wasn’t bad.
It just wasn’t His best.
And if I’m here on this planet, that’s what I want. I can’t be perfect; I don’t know that I want to be — *I* don’t really need to be anything to me because then *I* start thinking I don’t need *Him* so much. But I do want to press hold; I want the goal of holiness to be closer with every passing day. THAT’s what I want for my children — to see Him as worthy, to see Him as more than enough.
Lord, my head is shaking internally, because I know that to the one who knows what to do and does it not, it is sin.
Father, I have sinned. Royally.
I’m not just going to ask for Your forgiveness, I’m REPENTING. I don’t want to walk down this street again. I want to borrow from Chambers and “trust God and do the next thing.” Lord, would You please create in me a clean heart and a STEADFAST spirit???
Lord, You are so holy, and You are so beyond what we could ever hope to deserve; yet You make Your home in sinful hearts crowded in tiny rooms of “here You are, Lord, have a seat” when You desire the keys to the whole house. God, have my house. The dwelling of my motivations and the abode of my thoughts. Have my physical home and all that is in it. I won’t lie, I like “my way” a lot.
But I LOVE You.
And Your best is beautiful. Please help me live in it, walk it out, enjoy it, share it, pass it on.
YOU are beautiful, Lord. Thank You for the spanking, Father. I have learned, and I will never be the same. You chasten those whom You love and Your Word will not return void.
I praise You! Thank You for loving me so much.
Though I promised pictures, we just discovered that the battery door on our digital camera is broken & won’t hold the batteries in. Ugh. This is a REALLY nice camera my husband bought primarily for work 4 years ago, and it has served us SO well. For crying out loud, it made it through 3 third-world airports, four mission schools, and a safari but it suddenly can’t handle Energizers??? Makes no sense.
So, until I break down and give it the good ‘ole Georgia fixin (duct tape on said door), I’m without snaps.
But I DO have something mighty fabulous to share with you!
On Tuesday, I was hustling to get shoes on little thumpers and makeup on myself when my fabulous three-next-week son began emphatically telling me a story and asking me loads of barely intelligible questions. Don’t know about anyone else’s angels, but both of mine from 2 1/2 to 3 were good talkers UNTIL they got excited. Itty Bitty does GREAT — he’ll hold conversation with you beautifully — until something gets him REALLY going and then it’s like he’s slipped into Swahili.
So, when I hear him begin to go off about whatever it was, I asked him to S-L-O-W—D-O-W-N. When he did, he said,
“Mahmee, I take my narble to shool?”
My eyes widened, my head cocked, my lips turned up — all spontaneously.
“What, Baby?”
“I take my narble wis me?”
“Your what?”
“MY NARBLE!” and pudgy fingers held out a perfect little round marble.
I burst into peals of laughter so big they brought tears.
Needless to say, my sweet angels were confused. So I tried to explain that I LOVE the way they say things and this morning, my sweet boy had made my whole day in one syllable.
When my husband came in, I tried three times before I could finally repeat what IttyBitty had said without cracking up laughing. He thought it was funny, but I think he was actually laughing harder at me!
So, we’ve decided (rather, I made D promise — ) that if we ever get another dog, especially a really great mutt from the pound, we’re going to name it Narble. If I could figure out a way to get it on video and then upload the audio, I would because round little cheeks puffing out the word “narble” is more like “nawrlble” anyway and it’s HILARIOUS!!!
Ok, so I don’t care if you’re laughing at me now, I just had to write this down for the sheer joy of lauging again… I may go track my angel down from playing and make him say it again!!!
Whew! It is GOOD to be home!
Vacations are always fun, home is always funner. We went to the Sunshine State to visit D’s grandfather for his 90th birthday — isn’t that awesome? Then we did Nite of Joy, so we got to play around Disney World for two days. It was a GREAT week — good time with my in-laws, D’s aunt, and a sweet time with Grandpa, followed by some amazing “down time” with our angels. We celebrated Itty Bitty’s birthday early there; he got to see Eeyore, Tigger, Piglet, and Pooh and they ALL celebrated with him! We had ordered a cake to be delivered there so he was even more suprised! Little Bit thought it was just fabulous, too, and that made it even better for D and me to know that both babies enjoyed the birthday shindig equally. There weren’t many people at the park that Thursday and the sky was cloudy, so it felt like we had the park to ourselves. We spent all of Friday morning lounging at the pool and playing in the sand. Itty Bitty even got up the nerve to do the water slide; he flipped around a bit on the way down, so he didn’t want to do it again, but he liked it a lot & talked about it all day! They got to see the Lights, Motors, Action show at MGM and both thought that was the highlight of our trip — it was cute!
D left on the bus from Disney after the concert, so we leisurely awoke & grabbed the last of our things this morning to head north. My babies played, colored, and sang and sang on the way up. It was precious to me; I found myself nervous to say much to them for fear of interrupting their fun. Hearing them chatter on about their friends and their toys and movies and our trip rendered me speechless. Those sweet little voices hold my heart and capture my attentions every time they lilt.
Tonight, we stopped about an hour and a half from home to hit the concert and see Daddy. D called me several times once I got off the exit which was really good because the directions we were given weren’t correct. When we finally got there, we all had dinner together and then Little Bit and Itty Bitty sat on a road case to watch the concert.
And I guess here’s a good place to explain stuff… my husband is on the road in full time ministry with a Christian band, so we do a lot of traveling. Well, he does a TON of traveling and we go when we can. When my sweet baby girl was born, things were still small-town enough that we basically traveled anywhere they did. By the time my little boy came along 15 months later, things were much busier and we went out on the “big buth” (big bus) about once a month. Fast forward a couple more years, and we hardly go out on the bus anymore, but we do meet them where we can and all families go on big trips. It’s an amazing blessing to see people come to Jesus for the first time, others meet their Saviour in a way they’ve never known Him before, and see ministry leaders go back recharged to their own calls. At the end of the day, it’s all about seeing people know Jesus for themselves and worshiping Him with every aspect of their lives. It’s a blessing to be raising children among people who’ve leveraged their lives for Christ completely; it’s also a blessing to be the one at home watching them learn to trust and pray in ways I couldn’t until adulthood. My children pray for the band, “all the guys” (the crew), our band pastor, whoever’s traveling with them, the bus drivers, the cities they visit and all the people in them each night of every tour when Daddy’s gone. We do it at dinner, and we have a map from the teacher store that we Sharpie in the date & city name where it belongs as a visual reminder to pray. I’m ashamed to admit I’ve been lax lately in doing this; the schedule’s not as hurried as it has been this past spring and last fall. But my best friend just gave me a new pack of multi-colored finepoint sharpies and we all know how inspirational they are! 
So back to tonight… D and I laughed out loud with delight: Itty-bitty pounded his legs with his fist and shook his head to the beat, sitting across from where our friend played his drums. Little Bit raised her hands to worship during the worship songs and sang every word to all the others.
And during “our song” I took turns with each of them, holding them in my arms and dancing around behind cables and boxes and cases and tape. We’ve done this since Little Bit was old enough to sit up on my shoulder. When Itty Bitty was born, I would hold both of them and we’d dance around and laugh and laugh. Sometimes I can still get both wriggly jiggly bodies aloft for us to bounce and sing about, tonight we just took turns.
And as I laughed and danced with my daughter again backstage, I prayed a fervent, “THANK YOU” one more time…
My children have grown up in this. Their favorite way to “help Daddy” is to roll cases and haul gear; albeit slowly, they chug along with guitar cases and cable boxes and mic stands. They pray fervently — at every meal they’re asked to bless — for the band and its audiences, for those traveling with them, for “awl duh gize” (all the guys). If you ask them why Daddy’s on the road, they’ll tell you, “Because Jesus wants him there.”
My children have a firm trust in an unseen, ever present, loving God and a fundamental understanding of His direction of every step.
So, we’ll go on dancing backstage. We’ll keep praying and laughing and learning verses and singing songs. We might not live an average existence, but we don’t serve an “average” God. We may miss out on some “normal activities” in exchange for some “divine appointments.” And for every night that Daddy’s on the road in the big bus, Abba holds us close at home.
Sovereign Sweet LORD,
speechless with THANKSGIVING I come.
Forgive me for the times I am ungrateful, shortsighted, “longing for a king” instead of thirsting for my God.
Jesus, once again, You have the reigns to this chariot.
Teach me to run this race intentionally, with perseverance, with passion, with YOU, so that those precious souls in tow don’t see the beauty of the vehicle or the speed of the journey or even the excitement of the view, but only the Grace, Forgiveness, and Matchless Worth of the Driver.
And may they choose to follow You, too.
“I met You like a little child
Wide-eyed and mystified
That You could love even me
So I’m here to testify, it’s been an amazing ride with You
And I have never walked alone
I wanna give You every moment, every minute
It takes a lifetime to know You,
to know You
And the more You show me the more You grow me
The more Your glory becomes all there is
And the more I know You the more I need You
The more I love You, the more You become to me…”
From “The More” by Downhere (Wide Eyed and Mystified)
D’s on the road tonight; he’s been home so long lately, I’d sorta forgotten what it’s like to be bye-mye-felf (to quote my son). But it’s been so good! My angels are getting so big; they know why he’s gone and they pray for him, the band, “awl duh gyze” (all the guys) and the city they’re in (except that tonight I forgot to look up exactly what city that is… oops).
It’s so sweet to see them grow, and such a privilege to have days like this to just ENJOY them.
Thank You, Jesus. The privilege of my children, and of days like this with them… oh, I am overwhelmed… THANK YOU, LORD!
Have you seen the kind of junk that gets published?
I mean, really, stop by Books-a-Million, Barnes and Noble, or your good-ole public library and take a look at some of the manure that gets passed off as “worthy of book deal.” Even better, open a new window and peek at Amazon.com. Wherever you go, someone has written a book that begs the question, “WHY???”
So, my Ya-ya’s and I decided that if so many foolish things get thrown into book jackets these days, we could certainly make a go of the publishing biz ourselves.
We’re writing a book.
Don’t know what it’s about.
It will be funny.
So this entry will be updated frequently (hopefully); we’ve got stories, rants, one-liners, observations, prayers, verses, and jokes that have burning holes in our brains, so we thought we’d share. Consider this link a preview of the great new coffee-table book in process. Or a touching look at the joys of motherhood. Or humorous musings about being Baptist women in America (we promise not to market to men).
I don’t know.
Possible Titles:
“I AM NOT YOUR MOTHER! (and that makes me SO glad!)”
“It won’t get better until you’re unannoyed”
“Running with Scissors” (some man has already stolen this… I’m peeved)
“If Mama ain’t happy, just add Chocolate”
“Dumber things have been written”
Possible chapters:
“I bowl better when you can’t see my score”
“Hurts like Ice Cream”
“Of course I nuke my ice cream” (sensing a theme yet?)
So here we are… there will be more. I need to get some food for thought now; where’s my scoop and bowl?
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