Romans 12

Romans 12 (The Message)

Place Your Life Before God

So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don't become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You'll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you.

I'm speaking to you out of deep gratitude for all that God has given me, and especially as I have responsibilities in relation to you. Living then, as every one of you does, in pure grace, it's important that you not misinterpret yourselves as people who are bringing this goodness to God. No, God brings it all to you. The only accurate way to understand ourselves is by what God is and by what he does for us, not by what we are and what we do for him.

In this way we are like the various parts of a human body. Each part gets its meaning from the body as a whole, not the other way around. The body we're talking about is Christ's body of chosen people. Each of us finds our meaning and function as a part of his body. But as a chopped-off finger or cut-off toe we wouldn't amount to much, would we? So since we find ourselves fashioned into all these excellently formed and marvelously functioning parts in Christ's body, let's just go ahead and be what we were made to be, without enviously or pridefully comparing ourselves with each other, or trying to be something we aren't.

If you preach, just preach God's Message, nothing else; if you help, just help, don't take over; if you teach, stick to your teaching; if you give encouraging guidance, be careful that you don't get bossy; if you're put in charge, don't manipulate; if you're called to give aid to people in distress, keep your eyes open and be quick to respond; if you work with the disadvantaged, don't let yourself get irritated with them or depressed by them. Keep a smile on your face.

Love from the center of who you are; don't fake it. Run for dear life from evil; hold on for dear life to good. Be good friends who love deeply; practice playing second fiddle.

Don't burn out; keep yourselves fueled and aflame. Be alert servants of the Master, cheerfully expectant. Don't quit in hard times; pray all the harder. Help needy Christians; be inventive in hospitality.

Bless your enemies; no cursing under your breath. Laugh with your happy friends when they're happy; share tears when they're down. Get along with each other; don't be stuck-up. Make friends with nobodies; don't be the great somebody.

Don't hit back; discover beauty in everyone. If you've got it in you, get along with everybody. Don't insist on getting even; that's not for you to do. "I'll do the judging," says God. "I'll take care of it."

Our Scriptures tell us that if you see your enemy hungry, go buy that person lunch, or if he's thirsty, get him a drink. Your generosity will surprise him with goodness. Don't let evil get the best of you; get the best of evil by doing good.

His Mercies Are New

Every day I try. Every day I fail. Every night I fall into bed, attempting to comfort myself with determination that tomorrow I will live as I should live and love as I should love. Then tomorrow comes. And I fail again. And I fall again. And my fuse is short and my faith is weak and I'm not who I want to be. And I'm not who He's called me to be. But still I desperately cling to what I know is truth. The only true comfort that I know - My God's mercies are new every morning.

Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. Lamentations 3

I can carry one day of failure, but no more. And he doesn't even expect me to carry that. So He sent his Son. The only Son He had. And every day, my failures die with Him.

I keep waiting for that day when I will lay my head down on my pillow feeling like I finally managed to pull it off. Like I finally went an entire day without complaining or yelling at my kids or judging someone or making selfish decisions. But deep down I know that if that day ever came, the beauty of His grace would begin to fade. So I've decided that instead I will lay my head down acknowledging that I have failed yet again, but I will rest anyway knowing that Jesus holds my victory in the palm of His hand. I think it's safer with Him anyway.

5K

Some of the awesome college students we work with are putting on a 5K to raise funds for the adopting families at our church. You can sign up at www.adoption5k.org. I'm hoping to run it....we'll see. For some reason I'm waiting until the last minute to sign up. Probably because I've never run 3+ miles in my life. But I'm working on it! I know you can walk it, but I need to run it. I just do. Anyway, if you're in Tuscaloosa, sign up!

Disturb us Lord

“Disturb us Lord, when

We are too well pleased with ourselves.

When our dreams have come true

Because we have dreamed too little.

When we arrived safely

Because we sailed too close to the shore…

Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,

To venture on wider seas

Where storms will show your mastery;

Where losing sight of land,

We shall find the stars.”

- Sir Francis Drake

Recent Reads

I've been on a reading kick lately. Here are a couple of my recent favorites!

Brown House Video

This is a video about the Brown House Ministry that I wrote about a few days ago!

Gulf Coast Getaway Brown House Series from Capture Studios on Vimeo.

The Brown House

Last year I met a girl. Before I met this girl, I had been reading books. Books like Irresistable Revolution by Shane Claiborne and Crazy Love by Francis Chan. Books that urge christians to get off their pedestals and start getting busy with the work of Christ. To get involved with the messy business of people's lives. To trade in the American dream for a much better reality - help for the hurting and justice for the oppressed. These were exciting ideas!

But at this point, they were only that. Ideas.

I had heard that this girl, Amy, and her husband Adam, had made the decision several years ago to sell their home and their business and move to a place called West Circle. West Circle is one of the government housing development in our town. I saw Amy every Friday. After I heard this about her, I couldn't wait to ask her about it. So, the next Friday I did. I asked her to tell me more. She was worried she would bore me with the details. I assured her... she wouldn't. So she explained to me briefly what they do and why they do it. It's a long, beautiful story, but the essence of it is this : they wanted to be the presence of Christ to the children and people of West Circle. God had called them there and they were willing to make a lot of sacrifices to go. After she told me this I did the only thing I knew to do....I asked her if I could hug her. I had to hug her. Standing before me was living, breathing evidence that these things I had been reading about could actually be more than ideas. And I needed to wrap my arms around that evidence for just a second.

I believe in divine appointments - meetings inspired by and led by God. There is no doubt in my mind that meeting Amy, and later Adam, was by divine appointment. You can't know them without being changed. For example, when God asks you to adopt a baby from Ethiopia, it's a little less intimidating when you've hugged evidence of his faithfulness to those who take risks for Him. They've inspired me to get off my pedestal and start getting busy with the work of Christ. To get involved with the messy business of people's lives. To trade in the American dream for a much bigger dream - help for the hurting and justice for the oppressed. And they didn't do it with ideas. They did it with their life. With their story.

And I just think that's pretty cool.

Adam and Amy's house is known as "The Brown House". They live there. They do ministry there. They offer Christ to all who come there.

The Brown House website.

"Betterism"

I am not a perfectionist. I'm too much of a realist to think that I will ever achieve perfection in any area of this life. My realism can, however, co-exist with another "ism". Betterism. I may not be able to achieve perfection, but it's perfectly reasonable to think that I could be better. As a result, I am constantly striving to be better, live better, eat better, mother better, exercise better, look better, pray better, worship better, teach better, learn better, cook better, clean better, organize better, relate better, listen better, love better. Better is one of those words that doesn't look like a real word anymore after seeing it over and over. I try to be a better wife, better friend, better sister, better daughter, better reader, better writer, better Christ follower, better advocate, better, better, better.

It's exhausting.

And I'm tired. And I don't know the answer. Because I don't think that the answer is to become complacent and stop striving to be better at some of the these things. Because becoming a better mother is a worthwhile goal. Becoming more organized has many benefits. And so it goes with many of the things on my list.

And this word, better, it just keeps bugging me. So I go to scripture. And this is what I find.

As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!""Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."

Luke 10

And with this one passage, I am reminded that my "betterism" is so exhausting because I am trying to become better without drawing near to the Only One who has the power to create a better version of me through the transforming work of his Spirit.

And how ironic that Martha was just trying to be better. A better servant. A better hostess. The better sister. And Jesus tells her that if she really wants to do what is better, she has to stop trying so hard to be better at these things. Because all of these things are things that can be taken away from her. But sitting at the feet of Jesus, and what she will learn by doing so, cannot be taken from her. Hmm.

I also find that

It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to trust in man.

Psalm 118

And my favorite

Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere.

Psalm 84

And the most humbling by far

To obey is better than sacrifice.

1 Samuel 15

Because I think deep down I tell myself that this striving to be better is an act of sacrifice. I tell myself that most often it is not even about me. It's about being better for others. And with this I justify my "betterism". But this verse really gets to me. These are the words that Samuel speaks to Saul after he has failed to carry out the Lord's mission exactly as He asked him to. He did almost exactly what God said, and he felt he could justify that which he chose to ignore by making sacrifices to God. I do that. And Samuel tells Saul that God's not impressed.

So I ask myself, what mission has He given me that I am not carrying out exactly as He has asked me to? And this I do know the answer to. He asked me to love Him with everything I have and to love others with everything He gives.

And suddenly I feel just a little less exhausted, because now I remember that there are only 2 things that I need to be better at. And even though they are 2 really big things, it feels much more manageable than the 47 things I was striving for 10 minutes ago. And I smile, knowing that if I become better at these 2 things He has asked of me, I will automatically be better at the really important things from my other list. And with this realization, I say to my Holy Reminder-

Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify you.

Psalm 63

And finally, this is my prayer for you, my friends:

I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better.

Ephesians 1

ABC's

don't forget to turn off the music at the bottom of the page

Panama City

Ok, some of you are probably tired of hearing me go on and on with my random thoughts and what you really want is to see some pictures of the kids :). So this is for you. Every year we go to Panama City Beach for the Gulf Coast Getaway. We had a great trip this year. I might share more about the conference later, but for now here are some pics.

Even Target is a photo-op with these boys!

Dinner as a family before Duane got entrenched in all things GCG.

How is it that I am 5 years younger than him and he looks 10 years younger than me??

Nothing like a nice, quiet dinner with the fam :).

Keeping it Real

For some reason people assume that I'm organized...

People say that I must be organized if I homeschool my children.

and because I try to clean my house right before people come over, they may assume that my house is always clean, but...

and some people think that I only feed my kids organic food and they tend to apologize when they are offering something that's not so healthy...

but the TRUTH is:

I want to be organized. And I wish my house was always clean. And I would love to have the time, money, energy, and co-operation from my kids to feed them healthy every day. But I'm weak :). I give in to their requests for Froot Loops and such. And I can't seem to keep up with the laundry and the dishes. And I'm constantly cleaning things out and trying to organize things, but somehow I never get there.

I started to post some pics of my kids and say, "...and some people think my kids are well behaved and well mannered", but then I had to face reality. I don't think I have anyone fooled on that one :).

Confession: Some days I panic just a little bit. I think about the fact that I am adopting a 4th child! And this child could very likely have some special needs that I have never dealt with before. I will soon be homeschooling 4 children. I am currently homeschooling one and barely managing to do it well. I will be feeding 4 children Froot Loops because I will have even less time and energy to come up with healthy meals. The laundry and dishes will pile up a little bit higher. More discipline required. More love required. More energy required. More boo boo's to kiss. More sleepless nights. More diapers! More potty training :(. More siblings to fight with. More extra curricular activities to get to. More money. More time. More patience. More....selflessness.

...and the Enemy likes to whisper to me "are you sure you are capable of this? Are you sure you have this in you?"

...to which I have slowly learned to reply, "No. I am not. There's no way I am capable of this. And no. I do not have this in me. But my Father is so very capable of doing this through me and in me!"

God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that always having all sufficiency in everything, you may have an abundance for every good deed. 2 Corinthians 9:8

And when I see images like these..

...I am humbly reminded that these children aren't desperately hoping for an organized, spotless, organic home to live in. They are desperately hoping for love. I have that. A warm, dry bed. I have several of those. Clothing. I have so much it disgusts me. Food. My cabinets are busting at the seams and my refrigerator is dangerously full. A family. I've taken mine for granted too many times.

So, I hope nobody thinks that I have decided to do this adoption thing because I have everything else under control and I'm ready to tackle the next challenge. It's never been my intention to lead anybody to that conclusion, but I think sometimes I might do it by accident. The truth is, I have no idea how this is gonna look or how I'm going to manage it all. I just know I'm gonna do it, because He asked me to.

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. James 1:27

Bring on the Froot Loops.

Extravagant

ex·trav·a·gant

Pronunciation: \ik-ˈstra-vi-gənt\

Function: adjective

1 a : exceeding the limits of reason or necessity b : lacking in moderation, balance, and restraint

c : extremely or excessively elaborate

2 : spending much more than necessary
3 : extremely or unreasonably high in price

I don't consider myself to be an "extravagant" girl. If you come to my house for dinner, you are more likely to eat off of paper than china. I couldn't care less about diamonds or other expensive jewelry. My favorite shoes are my $2 flip flops. Ordering anything that costs more than $10 off of a restaurant menu makes my stomach hurt just a little bit. I rarely use hairspray or nail polish. I'm just a pretty simple girl. I would like to think that my husband would say I'm not all that "high maintenance". I usually consider my practical nature to be one of my positive traits, but....

Friday morning Duane took the boys out for breakfast. When they came home I was in my bedroom working on something. My sweet Micah, eyes shining, came to the room and said for me to come to the kitchen with him. Knowing he was up to something, I quickly followed him into the kitchen. When I got in there I saw a dozen red roses sitting on the counter. He, Noah, and Duane all looked at me for my reaction. Of course I smiled and told them thank you. I told them they were so pretty. I smelled them and commented on how good they smelled. I was trying. But deep down all I could think about was how a dozen roses were just too extravagant. I mean, how impractical. I thought about how expensive they must have been and how in just a few days they would die. I'm ashamed to say that I allowed my practicality to rob me of the joy that should've come with the realization that I have a husband who loves me so much he would buy me a dozen beautiful red roses even though it wasn't practical. Just because he thinks I'm worth it. I failed to fully appreciate the expressions on the faces of my sweet boys as they anticipated my response. I failed to praise my God for His creativity which is so evident in the beauty and lovely scent of a rose. I realize this is not a good thing, and I'm really trying to stifle these feelings. And it's had me thinking.....

Does this practical, non-extravagant part of me hinder my ability to fully accept God's love for me and the grace he pours out on me? Because only extravagant love could move an Almighty God to humbly become a man and live life on this earth. And only extravagant love would move that man to not only heal lepers, but to also touch them. Only extravagant love drives a perfect, sinless man to submit to having his hands and feet nailed to a cross for someone as sinful and imperfect as me. Only extravagant love prays through the pain on that cross, "Father, forgive them, for they don't know what they are doing." And only extravagant love could know my every thought, my every mistake, my every failure and still love me and call me His precious child.

Watch what God does, and then you do it, like children who learn proper behavior from their parents. Mostly what God does is love you. Keep company with him and learn a life of love. Observe how Christ loved us. His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn't love in order to get something from us but to give everything of himself to us. Love like that.

Ephesians 5:1-2 The Message

So the roses were more than just an expensive, thoughtful gesture that will die in a few days after all. They were actually an extremely worthwhile gift. In fact, I believe it was quite likely Duane's obedience to God's spirit that caused him to pick those up and bring them home to me. Because I needed to be reminded. I needed to remember how extravagantly my Father loves me. Why? Because I needed to be reminded that I am also to "love like that". I would hate to think that my practical nature prevents me from doing this.

If you come to my house for dinner, you will still probably eat off of paper plates. I still don't give a rip about diamonds and I can't wait for it to be warm enough for my flip flops again. I'm still a practical girl. But from now on, when it comes to love, I'm shooting for extravagance.

The amazing grace of the Master, Jesus Christ, the extravagant love of God, the intimate friendship of the Holy Spirit, be with all of you.

2 Corinthians 13:14

If you have time, turn off the music in the left hand column and listen to this beautiful song about God's extravagant love for us!

Droppings

Droppings. That's what people refer to them as. Somehow it makes them feel better about the fact that they have discovered poop. Poop from a furry creature which has invaded your space. Dozens of little "droppings". That's what I found under my bathroom sink today. I must admit that initially I panicked - just a little bit. But then I pulled myself together and made a conscious decision to handle this calmly.

See, I have ulterior motives. I've been trying to convince Duane that I could handle living on a farm. It's just a funny dream of mine. Let me clarify what I mean by farm. More than one acre of land :), a large garden, perhaps some chickens, etc.... (By etc.. I mean a horse or 2). When I mention this, he says that I am "romanticizing a lot of hard work". If you know Duane, you know that he is not afraid of hard work. He's just afraid that I am. So, when I considered how to handle this, I could just hear him saying "And you think you want to live on a farm?"

The old me that wasn't trying to convince Duane that I could live on a farm would've left all of the poopy evidence so that Duane could experience the full drama of my discovery when he arrived home from work this afternoon. And to be honest, I probably would've expected him to clean it up. But the new me carefully plucked every item in the cabinet out - there's a lot in my cabinet. I "carefully plucked" because I was scared to death that the mouse was in there and was going to run up my arm when I least expected it. I washed everything off, threw a few things away, swept up the "droppings" and shredded paper, and washed the cabinet. Ok, here's where it gets really good. I then inspected the cabinet to find the hole that my friend may have entered through. I found it. 10 mice at a time could've fit through there. By the looks of things, it might have been 10 mice! Again, the old me would've waited until Duane got home and insisted that he fix it TO-NIGHT. The new me thought, I can handle this. "Noah", I yell, "bring me some duck tape". Proudly and confidently, I secured the hole, returned everything to the cabinet, shut the door, and dusted off my hands. As if on cue, my phone rings. It's Duane. In my initial panic state I may have called him a couple of times and sent him a text when he didn't answer. "Hello", I answer in my sweetest, calmest voice. I waited for him to bring it up :). When he did I jumped on the opportunity to boast about how I had "handled the situation". While I'm sure deep down he was very proud of me, he responded by telling me that I would have to clean all of that stuff back out and remove the duck tape so that we could trap it and it wouldn't die in our wall, rot, and stink us out. Good point.

There's another old me. One that I'm much more ashamed of. A year ago, I would've been more than just disgusted that there was poop in my bathroom cabinet. Deep down I would have been outraged. I may not have ever spoken it aloud or put it into words, but deep down I would've had the feeling that I deserved to live in rodent free environment. Or a roach free environment. I operated under the idea that I deserved to be in a comfortable, creature free, inconvenience free environment. How dare I? I have new lenses now. I've chosen to become more aware of the world around me. Or maybe I should say that God has chosen for me to become more aware. The new me thinks about the millions of children worldwide who live with rats, not mice, on a daily basis. I would imagine that some even choose to eat them, rather than starve. I really don't mean to be dramatic. It's just the truth. When our power went out a couple of days ago, the first thing I thought about was how many people in our world have no electricity. Ever. It was a bitter cold morning. I wondered how many people didn't have a warm place to stay the night before. When it takes the hot water in my kitchen sink forever to get warm, I try to thank God that I have running water. Clean water. One billion people in the world do not.

So did God give me these new lenses so that I could finally realize I don't deserve the blessings He's given me, but rather that each and every one is an undeserved gift? Or was it so that I could be more thankful for what I have? Maybe partially, but I doubt it. I don't think he blesses me so that I can sit around and be thankful for how blessed I am. I don't think He's made me more aware of the world so that I can pity those who live in deplorable conditions, are growing up without families, or are dying from AIDS. I'm definitely not boasting about this new me like I so quickly did the other one. I have so far to go. I long to move from the new me to the even newer me :). The me that does something more about what I see with my new lenses. You see, I do think He blesses me because He loves me. He loves me so much, that he desperately wants me to experience the joy that comes from truly following Him. From getting over myself and feelings of entitlement to comfort and convenience.

We will set out traps and hopefully catch our furry little friends. But, as crazy as it may sound, I'm actually a little thankful that they pooped all up in my space. It gave me one more reminder to be thankful. And even more than that, to be AWARE. And even more than that, to DO something about it.

Bubble Blowing 101

(pause the music in the left hand column before playing)

Freckles

Freckles. Noah has freckles.

You can't really see them here, but they are mostly on his nose. I saw them this morning when we were laying face to face on the couch together - talking. I guess I knew he had freckles. But I forgot? Failed to notice lately? I don't know. What I do know is that I looked at his face and thought, "He has freckles!". How distracted do you have to be to not notice that your firstborn has freckles? Or to forget, or whatever. How much of a fog do you have to be in to look at the really dark freckle right above his lip and think "Has that always been there?". How busy must a mother be if she can't remember the last time she lay down face to face with her child just to chat and make sure he knows just how much he is loved? I submit that one must be too busy. Too distracted.

When I was a kid, my dad had the unfortunate task of waking me up each morning. If you know me, you know it was like trying to wake someone from a coma. If you know my dad, you won't be surprised to know he always did it with a song. THE SAME SONG. EVERY MORNING. In the moment it just made me want to pull the covers over my head and go back to sleep. But deep down I loved it. I loved that I had a dad who woke me up with a song rather than the harsh words I deserved for being so slow to respond. I loved the consistency. I loved the gentle nature of it.

I am becoming more and more aware of the fact that I have been in a "mommy coma" for too long. Remember the freckles? Remember the really dark one right above his lip? I actually tried to scratch it off, desperately needing for it to be food or anything besides something that had likely been there all of his life.

I have become so bogged down in my tasks. So deadened by my routine. I've wandered so far off the path that I set out to follow on this journey. I've pursued perfection instead of playing. I've traded time for tidyness. I've spent too little time caring and too much time controlling. I've let life get in the way of love.

But today.... today I have noticed chubby knees and blue eyes. I've had a pillow fight. I read a book about ants to 3 children on the couch while the sun from the window warmed us up. I let a 9 year old bake muffins by himself. I cherished the uncontrollable laughter of a spunky 4 year old. I've tackled. I've tickled. I saw his freckles.

Once again, my Father is waking me up. Praise God! He is waking me up! I'm slowly but surely waking up out of my mommy coma. And He is doing it gently. And consistently. Even though I have been so slow to respond and sometimes want to pull the covers back over my head. And he does it with a song. 3 beautiful songs in fact. They are my children.

My friends and family reading this may be tempted to reply with "You're way too hard on yourself." But I know the fog. And I'm not saying that I haven't been a good mother. I'm a good mother. The thing is, I'm not so sure it's my kids who have been missing out. The fog has robbed ME of the joy that being a mother can bring.

I'm just so thankful that today the fog was lifted high enough for me to see those freckles. I wonder what I'll discover tomorrow?