Daniel Fast Observations: Week 1

I only have about fifteen minutes to blog, now that I have put it off to nearly the end of the day, but I wanted to write this blog anyway, so it all works out magnificently, doesn't it?

• Sunday night marked one whole week on the  Daniel Fast...as of now, it twelve days until I get coffee again, and honestly, that's almost my only complaint now. 
• A week ago Tuesday we are simply calling the No Good, Very Bad Day. Sugar withdrawals are real and they are naaaaaaasssty. It is really going to make me think twice about how much I let back into my system at the end of this.
• Eating like this requires a bit more time and preparation, and a bit of inventiveness and open mindedness. I've now made my own crackers, my own refried beans, any number of smoothies and changed what I thought breakfast had to look like.
• There aren't many foods I really miss. I am a vegetarian anyway and am loving the meals. Fortunately I've not been in a situation where there were many foods that tempted me either, maybe that's why I don't miss them.
• I miss coffee.
• I ate some Craisins the first day. Craisins have sugar. I did not know this. Make a note of that if you want to try the fast.
• Now that the sugar is out, I feel phenomenal. I have plenty of energy (I've worked out consistently harder since last week).
• I did not do the fast in order to lose weight, but I have lost a visible amount of weight since starting.
• God has revealed a great deal to me as we've walked this out.
• The spiritual aspect of this fast for me has been prayer. We've had some amazing time together, me and God.
• The Daniel Fast cookbook was a very wise purchase.
• I plan to continue to eat very closely to this even after the 21 days
• But not the no coffee part. I'm adding coffee back in.
• And wine. I miss wine.
• I'm looking forward to the next two weeks!

Am I Satisfied?

 I woke up this morning disjointed and disheartened after an unsettling dream about a visit back to Florida (I blame hunky for talking about feeling Florida sick, a feeling I seldom feel unless missing the beach counts...I'd be just as happy about the beach in Savannah). This coming hard on the heels of learning that another Sis has died - overcome by the ravages of cancer.  There is no coffee in my day, my stomach is already growling and breakfast is a culinary feat that I haven't faced yet, and I may have to maim the dog.

Yesterday Mike preached from Psalm 119:

Because you have satisfied me, God, I promise to do everything you say.

This morning I am left staring at that bald faced statement.  You have satisfied me.

Am I satisfied?
Am I satisfied when the house is a wreck and there's no dinner in sight at the end of a very long day?
Am I satisfied when my reputation is shattered into no fewer pieces than my life?
Am I satisfied when week after week I hear of, pray for and weep over the countless masses who suffer and die from a horrible disease?
Am I satisfied when children weaken and die covered in their own filth and feces?
Am I satisfied?

When everything seems too big?
When the questions are answered with I AM?
When the blessing is brokenness?
When He takes away?

I count the blessings and find the fullness of my portion once again:

171. mangoes sweet and juicy
172. the bi-weekly grocery delivery by the hunkiest delivery bot of all
173. Cabinets. cupboard and pantry overflowing
174. The grace of an early bed time
175.  Sun, sun and more sun in springtime sneak preview
176. growing girls into women
177. to run farther
178. bluebirds, cardinals, blue jays, orioles, sparrows, catbirds, robins and doves that sing and dive all day
179. the fresh smell of windows open
180. the slap of lake waves against the sea wall
181. the lazy wave of quiet fisherman
182. freckle rebirth
183. the smell of sunscreen
184.  white lights on the back deck at night
185. deer in the dusk
186. wise words that change and reframe
187. senses awake to changes around me
188. boundless generosity of friends in my mail box
189. children sleeping in
190. rebirth

To Hear and Be Heard

    Over the last six months God has really been speaking to me about the importance of how I conduct my relationships. More and more He's impressing on me the everyone's need to feel "heard."  We live in a world filled with noise: our TV's blare, our phones ring, our texts bleep, our kids talk, our appointment calendars holler, our obligations clamor. We start to look much like the grinch with felt tipped mallets pounding our head shouting on about, "All the noise, noise, NOISE, NOISE!"

Time is a precious commodity and so is enough quiet to get a word in edgewise.

I'm not always as good at it as I would like to be, but I'm working on just shutting my mouth and hearing what it is the people I love are saying, not just with their words, but with their hearts.

   I've also been thinking a bit about blogging. Not in light of giving it up, but merely, the motivation behind it. Annie Dillard said in a Pilgrim at Tinker Creek,

"Seeing is of course very much a matter of verbalization. Unless I call my attention to what passes before my eyes, I simply won't see it. It is, as Ruskin says, "not merely unnoticed but in the full sense of the word unseen"...I have to say the words to describe what I'm seeing ...but if I want to notice the lesser cataclysms of valley life, I have to maintain in my head a running description of the present."

No doubt if I wrote a bit more like Annie Dillard, more people would want to hear me.  But I don't, and they don't. It would be silly to say that I don't love comments or to hear what people think about what I say here, but I really think after a bit of soul searching, that what I share isn't because it is necessarily of momentous import, except that it is...to me.

Like marking stones of remembrance, putting words to my daily life is what makes God stand out clearly in the moments that might normally be mundane.  Simply waiting for God to always show out in the big ways, which He can and will do, sometimes many times in succession, is to miss Him in the hundreds of tiny ways that He handles each and every detail.

God is the moments; He sees my stones.
I am heard.

At the End of a Perfect Day

 I have a few "heavier" blogs rolling through my head, but tonight is not a night for heavy blogging.

After almost a week of dragging, foggy headedness, headaches, leg aches, and random mood swings, I think the sugar is out. I'm fairly certain I have consumed upwards of six gallons of water since Monday so it should be.

Today, I felt human again.
 Human enough to run this morning and take a walk in the late afternoon.
Warm enough to put on a tank top and shorts and sun screen and sit lizard like in the sun for almost 5 hours. I am about one degree shy of sunburn which should subside enough overnight for a repeat lizard performance tomorrow.
The temperature today stuck fast at a balmy 77*.  The windows are flung wide (even now). I can just hear the peepers in the low boggy areas all around.

My body feels tired and my brain simply at peace.
My head is quiet which rarely ever happens.
My tummy is full from a giant bowl of whole wheat linguine topped with deliciously sauteed mushrooms, zucchini, yellow squash, tomatoes, olives and a wee bit of onion. It was amazing.

My children are tubbed and scrubbed (a set of activities in which my presence is no longer required or even close to welcome) and settling in quietly (at last) to watch a movie.

Tomorrow awaits with some busyness but if it's done quickly and early, the afternoon sun will beckon me outside again, and I will go gladly smelling faintly of the ghost of summer to come in my sunblock.

This is the kind of day I was made for. It's rarity only makes it that much sweeter.

In Which I Look Hubris in the Eye and Blink

  I mentioned earlier that I was starting the Daniel fast on Monday. Long story short: all veggies, all fruits, no meat, no yeast, no sugars or additives, only water to drink.  I've been a vegetarian for about five years or so the prospect didn't daunt me too much. I do like my morning coffee (And sometimes afternoon), but on the occasions when I don't get a cup, I've not really noticed an ill side effects. Overall, had you asked me, I looked at the transition as one that would take self control, but that wouldn't be too terribly difficult to accomplish.  If you had asked me even yesterday afternoon, I would have still said the same.

Then last night, the mac truck hit me.

I'm not so sure I've had more than two coherent thoughts between then and now.

I have slept - A LOT, been cranky, been unable to form coherent thought, been in a total fog, and been blankly wandering around trying to figure out where to even try to focus.

Mercy. MERCY.

Tonight I'm actually starting to smile again, and I think I could work a few math problems if I had to. I might be able to read for more than 3 minutes at a time and my ears aren't ringing.

Guess who wasn't quite as healthy or prepared as she thought she was...

I think I could probably spend the next 19 days pondering the spiritual ramifications of that message.  But I'm pretty sure God hasn't even gotten started with me yet.

In Which It isn't As Much as I Want to Say (Multitudes on Monday)

 I planned to write this long and lovely blog for today--the 19th anniversary of my first date with my hunky. But this evening my thoughts are scattered and my kids are very loud and doing something that makes the house shake. Some of the new things (like no sugar for almost twenty-four hours now) are making concentration, and patience, a bit thin this evening. So, the next this is more story segment will have to wait until tomorrow and tonight you just get the listy-- the mushy edition.

151. His smile crinkles...he's got the very best ones
152. The way he smells fresh out of the shower
153. His manly hands and feet
154. He grocery shops every. single. week.
155. Random texts to be silly, or check in, or say he loves me
156. Flowers for no reason at all
157. Sitting on the back deck (and before that the back porch) and talking for hours
158. His great big laugh
159. Watching him get excited when he tells people about Jesus
160. How picky he is about his socks/ belt/ shoes
161. He always let's me use him as a heater
162. The million little ways he spoils me
163. Watching him be a Dad to our girls
164. His funny obsessions
165. The cheesy pictures he sends me
166. He rubs my feet
167. He's the very best hugger in the wide world
168. His character
169. His passion
170. He's seen me bald, sick, sad, throwing up, balled up and weeping snottily, literally seen my internal organs, my worst fits, my ugliest moods and my deepest lows and he still thinks I am the most beautiful woman in the world.

He's definitely a keeper

Good Peeps

THEREFORE THEN, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses [who have borne testimony to the Truth], let us strip off and throw aside every encumbrance (unnecessary weight) and that sin which so readily (deftly and cleverly) clings to and entangles us, and let us run with patient endurance and steady and active persistence the appointed course of the race that is set before us Heb. 12:1


I spent a large portion of my afternoon today sitting in a living room (NOT an Ikea showroom--don't let the pillows fools you) talking with some friends about being pissed off at satan (and a little bit about boob jobs).

This was after I spent a morning chatting, and having deeper conversations, and worshiping and just generally enjoying being with a family of believers.

I spent some time this morning talking with a group of women who have committed to spend every day this year in the Word.

And still more time talking to people who are starting, or praying about starting a fast.

And still more time admiring a beautiful woman with a beautiful heart who doesn't know how truly beautiful she is and whom I would love to know better

And still more time giggling with a chicken farmer

And still more time talking about books, and women-children, and sick littles, and weekend happenings, and prayer requests and God moments with some of my most special besties.

I realized that God has more than surrounded me with a wonderful, amazing, miraculous, somewhat broken, entirely imperfect, falling down, getting up again, beautiful, incredible people.  God is enough. He is, but He's so good that He knows I need some earthly hands and feet and arms and smiles and jokes and talks and prayers and learnings to sharpen and encourage me. He must really love me a lot ( I am His favorite), and know how often I fall down to have provided so very many great witnesses to run along side me.

He has filled my life with good peeps. My cup runneth over.

Shaking Things Up

I don't know about you, but God isn't one to let me get in a rut or get too complacent. I don't think either thing is true of me at this time, but, perhaps,  I might be edging in that direction. I wouldn't say that things are easy for us right now, except that, they kind of are:

• Health wise we are all healthy and strong, hunky and I are probably the healthiest we have been in a decade or more
• Financially, while we are still living with the consequences of our move, we are doing better with budgeting, smart spending and saving. We're certainly better off  than we have been in easily a decade.
• Spiritually I am growing, changing, deepening - my discipline overall is improving and I can tell it in my responses and my choices.
• Ministry remains hard work as always. That never changes, but there are definite rewards and fruit continuing to show which make the work a bit lighter. Mission trip time is fast approaching which is always big spiritual high.
• Family life is good. Kids are learning. We enjoy each other and make time to be together. Hunky and I are still pretty mushy and gross together.

With all these good things it would be easy at this point to just kind of...coast.  

But God isn't going to let that happen. Several things have been percolating in the back of my mind for about a month now, and this week He brought one particular thing roaring to the front. So beginning Monday morning I will be starting the Daniel fast.  Fasting isn't a new concept for me, but it isn't something I have done regularly for some time, and I think it's time to get back to it again.  There are many things I hope to gain and learn from the experience. I'll be blogging about them, I am sure.

As well as food restrictions, I am giving up fiction reading for the twenty one days and there will be some computer time restriction. No more facebook games and other time wasters. 

No time for ruts or complacency here. I've got work.

Gaining Faith (This is my Story, This my Song Pt 2)

  It seems like many great stories start out with childhood hardships. Mine doesn't. I have an incredible family - NOT a perfect family (where is the fun in that? ). We certainly have our problems and dysfunctions, but I love, love, love, love my parents for every moment they spent (and spend) raising me, and I love my brothers for being such hilarious and amazing individuals. I credit my parents for all my best qualities and myself for all my biggest faults and failures. I just want to be very clear from the outset that this isn't a story that should ever reflect badly in any way on my family. I am a woman grown, any faults, problems, issues or irritations that come to light in telling this story are my own. I say all this because in a moment I am going to make a statement that sounds like a judgmental one. It isn't. It's simply one fact in a sea of many facts and experiences that make up me. So here it is:

I did not grow up going to church.

For me, growing up, church was an occasional activity, one that I viewed primarily socially, but I wasn't ever "churched." I did grow up attending a Christian school, one that then and now I have some pretty diametric views regarding the doctrine of that particular denomination.  For the most part, for me, Bible was a subject like any other. I did well in school, and I did well in Bible class. By age ten I probably knew most, if not all, of the major Bible stories, all my books of the Bible and had a basic knowledge of what could be found in each book. While none of this really affected my life much ( and that's not to say I was a bad kid, I was actually a pretty good kid. ), it later turns out to be a pretty solid foundation that God will use.

  I won't name the denomination of the church under whose auspices I was educated. I will say that from early on I wasn't too pleased with many of the things I was taught: salvation was limited to only members of that denomination, a god who doesn't do miracles anymore; a distinct and clear delineation between the God of the Old Testament and the God of the New Testament (anyone who knows me knows I am now incredibly passionate about the immutability of God, this would be why ), no instrumental worship, no dancing...there were many legalistic things which for a time caused me to have a great disinterest in what I perceived to be a harsh God and a legalistic and often joyless pattern of worship. As an adult I have many friends who still attend this denomination of church, and I find them to be neither joyless, nor Spiritless, nor fake individuals, in fact, quite the opposite. I'm speaking mostly of an institution here. I grew weary of questions being answered with "because that's the way it is" even when the complete opposite could be cited in scripture. This irritated me. One thing I did take from my time of indoctrinating was that if I wasn't baptized, I would go to hell. One teacher went so far as to say that if a person died on the way to be baptized that it meant the person should have done it sooner and off to hell they went. I knew I didn't want to go to hell, so I got dunked.  Looking back now I can say I was no more a Christian at that point in linear time than I would be a football player if I put on the uniform and walked out on field. I got wet. Nothing further.

Despite my distaste for the doctrine, I went on to go to college at a small private school of the same denomination. I didn't agree, and wasn't even really interested in hearing anything about it or God. But the school was small (I hate crowds), and the town and the people were familiar (I dislike strangers and new situations), so I chose the comfort of the familiar.  I could attribute all of this to my own oddities of personality and behaviors, but I believe now what was really happening was God sending me to the place where I would meet, and later marry my husband. That's a story for another day, and maybe one day he will tell his own story because it too is amazing. College life was much the same for me in that I didn't care or honestly even listen much to the religious aspect of it. I took books to read through chapel, and studied enough to keep my grades in Bible class.  I did well in school, was really never in trouble, and was very, very blessed to have an RA who was also my best friend, and who looked the other way when I was spending nights at my boyfriend's apartment, signed out deceptively to home and definitely not in the dorm, a behavior which would have certainly sent me packing had someone in authority known.

It wasn't until after I was married, had moved seven hundred miles from home, and had started a career in education that God began to pluck my heart strings. There really is no other explanation for the direction my life would take next. I was...relatively happy, newly married, newly employed in a job I loved, fairly successful by any standards, and God began whispering in my ear. I began reading my Bible, actually reading, for answers to questions I didn't yet know I had. I began to think about attending church, and at the invitation of a friend walked into a room where the pastor prayed for each and every denomination up and down the street. In that moment, my heart broke open and God took all the little pieces and began to mend them. This church would be my first home, and the only one I would know for the next fifteen years. The pastor there would go on to show me the best, and at the last the worst the church had to offer. I have chosen to keep working for the best and walk away from the worst.  In a few months God took me from apathy to ecstasy. He had a great plan. Had He told me then what it was, I probably would have run screaming off into the night.

It's almost time to end this little chapter but before I write the last words, I need to be very clear that I take not even one iota of credit for the events that will follow in rapid succession after this. For reasons only God knows and which I don't need to, He had His eye on me from before time. There is no rational explanation for how I came to faith except that God drew me to Him in His gentle and inexorable way, and my heart could do none other than respond or shrivel to stone. I was hard pursued by God as a lover pursues His beloved and I am so grateful He did and still does.  The faith He has placed in me is of His design and my searching, because He knew that my heart would accept none other than personal experience. To have someone tell me was not enough, to have another person teach me was not enough to dispel my doubts and quiet my questions. He is indeed the author and perfecter of my faith, a faith He still works on daily.

Prayer for the Undisciplined

 Do you know what stinks about discipline? It's hard. It's hard and it requires time, and effort, and commitment and change, and thought, and accountability, and prayer...these are things that are difficult to muster at the end of the day when you are tired and you've left the things that need doing far beyond the time when they should have been done.

Do you know what's awesome about discipline? It forms you, and shapes you; it makes you aware, and makes you rely on others to hold you up. It raises you higher than the heavens. It is the foundation for a strong tower of safety and fruitful life.  It isn't for wimps, or the wishy-washy. It isn't made for flights of fancy or to be passing fad.

Discipline is found in the stubborn, dug in, worn out, slightly jaded, hope filled, tired-eyed, broken hearted, tenaciously clinging, friend bolstered (sometimes steel-toed boot wearin'), realistic, optimistic, struggling, faith-followin', miracle believing, fall down but get up again, race running, slightly mad lovers of this world.

It's sometimes misplaced but never lost
sometimes heavy but never back breaking
sometimes lonely but never alone.

Discipline is found in a great company of imperfect folk  who somehow, and somewhat foolishly by the world's standards, believe that they can attain holiness. Fortunately for them they have it on good authority that holiness is theirs on account, if they bear fruit through...you guessed it... discipline.

It's a small club, but not exclusive. The road to is narrow but the benefits are out of this world. Its members aren't pretty, but they sure have an amazing array of stories to tell and crowns to show.  The club house is filled with green pastures and still waters. There's milk and honey for this world and a wedding banquet for the next.  I hear tell there's even streets of gold and a room for me when I've finished the work for me here.

I'll be honest, most days discipline isn't my natural bent or my desire.  I'm not very accomplished in it, certainly no authority, but I'm finding my way a little each day with a host of good company to encourage me and hold up my arms.  I'm believing that one day in the courts of the Lord will be more than worth any small effort I've put forth in this world...and I'm promised an eternity more. I'm hanging on to the promise that I'm a good work that will be completed, not by any merit of my own but by the Grace that carries me.

Wordless Wednesday - In which the Babies Wept

This is my Lily Dragon. She was unhappy at dinner because no one would "He'p Me!" when Mommy wouldn't let her get down to play. This was a theme for all the two and unders for the evening, I still had a great time nibbling the teary. I love loving the babies.

The Jesus Challenge

 I am blessed to study the Bible live and in person (as opposed to "imaginary" and online - which isn't better or worse, just different :)  ) with a great group of friends. The last two weeks we have read through the book of Matthew, twice. One of the fine (and hilarious) ladies commented that reading The Message version of Matthew should come with Marvel Comic style sound effects: "POW!" "BLAM!"  when Jesus speaks with the Pharisees. Unfortunately all too often I find myself hearing those same sound effects ( "KA-ZOW! WHOP!") when Jesus' words speak to me. This week when I read Matthew I kept a list, a list of all the ways the Jesus challenges His followers sometimes even delivering a swift right upper cut to the jaw (Rocky style, for Miss Nancy) :

our heritage *  our past *  our authority *  our security *  our comfort *  our concept of blessing *  our definitions *  our purpose *  our morality *  our forgiveness *  our integrity *  our religion *  our prayer life
* our worries  * our possessions  * our conduct  * our finances  * our friends  * our enemies  * our mission
* our habits  * our heart  * our lifestyle  * our devotion  * our obedience  * our health  * our death  * our sight  * our plans  * our motives  * our priorities  * our direction  * our fears  * our unbelief  * our thoughts   * our intelligence  * our marriages  * our parenting  * our words  * our responses  * our Sabbath  * our worth  * our end  * our grief  * our wounds  * our beliefs   * our bodies * our safety   * our suffering  * our name  * our sacrifice  * our work  * our rest  * our world view  * our delights  * our knowledge  * our hearing * our understanding * our path  * our rights  * our readiness  * our wants  * our needs  * our
purity  * our desire  * our love  * our forgiveness  * our freedom  * our position  * our hope

He's a challenging Savior - not one to let us lie fallow in our humanity, but who not only tells us the better way, but lived it perfectly, and then came back to change us from the inside out so that we too could "Follow Me"

In Which One Got Away (Multitudes on Monday)

 The true story here is that I started this yesterday, in fact, it was mostly written and I never came back and published it. So, a day late, but never a dollar short - here it is


 I'm feeling a bit pressed in the crush of life lately. I had some thoughts a bit ago about routines becoming too important and apparently, God is still working with me on that. While I have some routines in place, they aren't enough that I can lean on them instead of simply trusting in Him that time will be available when I most need it. So far He hasn't failed me. It requires a bit of openness and spontaneity that I don't relish. It means a great deal of giving things up to Him. Day by day. Week by week. Moment by moment. It means that I have to prayerfully consider each decision, responsibility - weigh and balance and choose which are God appointed and which are simple busyness. It's hard most days, but hopefully, I'll get better at it by and by. In the meantime, I count, count, count the many blessings:

135. holding hands with the hunky at the end of the day
136. Flannel sheets worn replaced by flannel sheets new
137. Warm sweaters on cold days
138. praying for impossible things
139. Protection from the stomach flu (I will never understand how Hunky didn't get it, except God)
140. Safe travels to and fro for my Mom
141. The gift of Grandparents who love, adore, cherish and enjoy my children
142. The difficulty of choosing new Webkinz
143. A letter from my Father, gone now twelve years
144. A visit with family after too long
145. falling in live with the Word...again, again, again, again
146. sun after a week of rain
147. A week of rain to make the world explode in spring - soon, sooner than I dare imagine
148. Hot breaded french fries-- so bad, yet so good
149. A spiritual sister who walks the same path as me even when we don't plan it
150. Sharing books, and thoughts, and words and prayers and hopes with those who care.

This is My Story, This is My Song (Pt.1)

I have had the great fortune to be a small part of something amazing. One hundred women have come together to read God's Word this year. We discuss, consider, question, struggle, fall down, get up, encourage and share as we go along. I feel doubly blessed because many of the wonderful people whom I already knew were amazing, are becoming friends and sharing in amazing-ness. And many are inviting their amazing friends whom I do not know already know. They are increasing the awesome factor in my life exponentially with each new addition. Love it.

One thing I have really enjoyed is reading people's stories of how they came to know Christ, and what great redemption He has worked in their lives. I love that. I love God stories. Since I am blogging every day this month, and since it was one of the requests when I got back on the wagon, I thought I would blog a little bit of my testimony for the rest of the week as a memorial to what the Lord has done for me.

There are many places that I never imagined I would be, but a pastor's wife living in a small town in Georgia, raising and home schooling three teen and pre-teen girls would have to be at the top of the unlikely list. God's ways truly are amazing. I hope you enjoy the ride...

In Which I'm Late! I'm Late! For a Very Important Date!

It's Feb 5th, and I have yet to find the time to sit down and organize my thoughts and goals for this month. So far, yes, it's been that kind of week! I'm tired of feeling unfocused and drifting along without goals in mind, so it's time to put words on paper (word on paper = peace of mind) and start getting the focus I desire.

Here's what I accomplished in January:

• I read 18 books. I do not think I can keep that pace, or even close, through the year. I read a great deal of brain candy. If I can read ten books this month I will be happy.
• I exercised consistently, 5-6 days a week every week
• I menu planned, and we were able to cut our grocery bill down as a result--including a large restocking trip we still came in under budget
• Family meals and family movie night were consistent
• I built and am maintaining a house work and home school maintenance plan.
• I cleaned and organized several areas including the master closet, the yarn stash, and the kitchen cabinets 
• I blogged 18 times
• I was consistent in Bible reading and study, and was incredibly blessed by a group of now one hundred women who are reading with me. That's exciting!!!

All in all, I call the month a success. There are things I did not accomplish, but when I look at that list, I have nothing to complain about.  The truth is, these are mainly things that should have been in place anyway so I plan to continue consistency with them and build on a nice solid foundation.

As I mentioned in January, I plan to set five mini-goals for myself each month:

Spiritual - practice prayer and begin study on Old Testament festivals. Continue daily Bible reading; begin memorizing Psalms 119

Physical - abs and arms (didn't do it last month as planned) back up to consistent 5k distance

Creative - start sketching again; watch more movies; finish 5 yarn projects; blog every day in Feb.

Organizational - Girls rooms and bathroom deep cleaned; organized; overhauled for spring

Grab-bag - send some fun mail; Mission trip planning; bird watching; write 12 times on the list blog

I have a few more personal goals as well, but this is in-depth enough for public consumption. Here's to a great February and maybe even finding a little breathing room!

Breathing Prayer

I've been thinking a lot about prayer. I'm not so good at it, in the formal sense.
Head bowed.
Eyes closed.
Hands folded.

I aspire to be more like Thomas Merton or Brother Lawrence, but I don't think they had kids, or home schooled, or....
comparisons really don't matter. I'm not them.

I speak to God quite often; I listen more - if prayer is turning thoughts to God, that part I do well.
But focusing, really focusing on prayer, on warfare, on intercession - it's caught my Spirit. It needs addressing.
Implementing.

It is not my natural bent.
I'm starting at the beginning-shoring up the weakest link. Choosing the thing I do most unconsciously to be my starting point.

Breathing.
Prayer Breathing.

I chose an apt sentence. "I am weak. Lord, You are strong."

Seven syllables ( a natural breathing rhythm fits to 7 the God number- no coincidence there.)
(inhale) I am weak
(exhale) Lord, You are strong

As natural as breathing, as ceaseless as life, as simple as truth.

I can breath. I can pray.
I am weak. He is strong.

It seems a good place to start prayer.

Truth

 I:
broken, stumbling,
 inept
  insecure
my words
  fail me
my thoughts
  crush me
my heart
  tricks me

I:
bumbling paradox
   earth
mixed
  with
filaments of heaven

I:
must have
something
certain
rock upon which
to fasten my feet
Savior upon which
to fasten my eye
when seismos trembles
when sinking waters prevail

I:
anchor
deep dug
white knuckle grasping
resting
fettered
bound yet free

He:
Perfect
steadfast
Word made man
unchanging
eternal
Truth Revealed

He:
Lover
Seeker
Soul breather
Namer
Knower
Desirer of me

He:
of Heaven
Creates flesh
becomes flesh
Born to be Known
Light Revealed
Restorer of Sight
Healer of Hurts
Indweller
Indwelling
I.

In Which I Give you Lists in an Attempt to Write a Blog Before Midnight

You may not know this, but I have a listy blog. I love listies, but I haven't done well with the blog.
I ordered a book called "List Yourself," it hasn't arrived yet, but I do love the blog in all it's glorious listy goodness. I plan to better with it this month.
I also plan to keep my book list for each month there. I already did that for January.

I also have plans to actually write down my February goals. Tomorrow is the day. Really and for true.
I have to start taking pictures or something (a goal for some time this year) so I am not scrambling on Wednesday. I need to plan better to get a blog done on this crazy fun day.

Don't you love my lists though? Really and for true, tell me this counts as an actual blog today.

I'm too darn stubborn to let a day go now that I'm ten days into this committment.
**distracts readers with shiny things**

In Which I Wrestle a Familiar Demon

   I went toe to toe with an old acquaintance today. He is the demon who haunts me. His name is Not Good Enough. Most days now I can quiet his shoutings to a whisper. Some days I can even make him disappear. But he sneaks back in through the cracks and chinks. His voice is soft and sibilant, and it accuses me in the guise of specters from my past.

Not Good Enough likes to remind me of many things:

Not good enough to parent
Not good enough to be a pastor's wife
Not good enough to be named
Not good enough to be remembered
Not good enough to be a friend
Not good enough to try to work things through
Not good enough
Not
Good
Enough

With claws that tear and fangs that gnaw and a voice that chitters ever up and down the registers of my soul.

I danced with Devil a bit today and his Demon played the tune.

Some days I'm tired, and all my efforts to fight back are Not Good Enough.