Refining Process

10-Minute Life Update

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 11 Feb 2016 18:07:00 +0000

Disclaimer: this is a stream-of-consciousness post, so go with the flow :)

I am perfectly aware that my blog looks horrible right now. I just don't have the energy to try to make it look all fancy for you, dear reader, when an afternoon nap is calling my name.

That is the perfect synecdoche for where I am right now, as a matter of fact. I know there are things in my life that could be better - isn't there always? - and yet I have to content myself with less-than-best because there isn't enough of me to do everything perfectly.

This is a hard thing for a perfectionist. Parenting has been really sanctifying in this way (a common refrain on this blog, I know). The moment things start to look out of control - and between a 3 1/2 year old and a 1 1/2 year old, it happens a lot - I feel that I have failed to fulfill my mission, the mission of perfection. It's debilitating. I am glad that God has graciously given me a self-analytical mind so that I can see this, and even laugh at it on my good days.

Speaking of laughter, one thing I'm slowly, slowly learning right now is how to laugh at myself and at situations. For all that I have a goofy side, I tend to take most things pretty seriously. It's why I'm good at listening and sympathizing, but bad at seeing the bright side of things and letting stuff go. You may guess that my husband is the more serious one between the two of us...but you would be wrong. He's the one that inspires me to choose laughter when faced with the choice between laughing and crying. He's the optimist in this relationship. I'm thankful for him!

It's strange that this July marks SEVEN years of marriage to Chris. Now that Facebook has the time-hoppy feature where you can look back on memories, I've been able to see several posts that occurred before I was dating Chris, or before I had even met him. In some ways I'm definitely who I was before (change comes hard), but in some ways my heart has been significantly transformed. It makes me contemplate the fruitlessness of comparing today to yesterday. It's like comparing an apple to a grenade. Or something.

Well, that's the sign that I should get off of here and take my nap...

Sayonara, dear reader!

Progeny

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 22 Jul 2015 20:30:00 +0000

I’ve got nothing, nothing for you
All was spent for others’ care
I dug deep, but I am empty
And such mines are everywhere.
Every gem and golden nugget,
Every sonnet, every song
I have given to the children
So, pardon, if I’ve done you wrong.

I’ve got nothing, nothing for you
I have paid a pricey fare
To tread upon a different planet
View the castles in the air
And yet I do not regret it
Though in poverty, I leave —
Of more worth than what I’ve given
Are the gifts that I receive.

Time Flows

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 28 May 2015 21:03:00 +0000

The clock pours out its empty string
Of numbers - stringing me along with
Promised meaning - meaning I will know
Where all these strings of numbers go

Time flows like everything else
So slowly - else I’m swept away when it
Move quickly - quickly learn to breath
Whether I’m drowning or dying for the water to seethe

The clock is a paradox of purpose
Self-trapping - when we purpose it not to
It’s freeing - freeing us to learn to live
With the contradictions that its numbers give.

Naptime Reflections - Missing My Makeup

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 08 May 2015 19:22:00 +0000

For me, this is a season of sacrifices. Most often they are little sacrifices, but they really challenge me nonetheless.

Yesterday I was telling my husband that it feels like I haven't put on makeup since my first daughter was born in 2012. With two littles, I've pushed doing my hair and makeup every single day to a pretty low spot on the priority list. I do miss having the extra time to do it - it's a wonder what a straightener or a little powder can do to make a woman go from feeling frumpy to fabulous.

There's a real tension here, because we obviously shouldn't be relying on makeup to make ourselves feel good, or in an attempt to impress others. In addition, the Bible says to let our beauty be of the inward variety. At the same time, that doesn't mean there's something inherently wrong or sinful about a little honest primping. We just have to make sure we have the two types of beauty rightly ordered in our minds.

Anyhow, these are just some thoughts I've been batting around. Agree? Disagree? Beauty can be a sticky subject...but maybe it doesn't have to be. I just haven't solidified all of my thinking on it, yet.

All that to say, maybe at this time of life I'll just have to be content with having washed my hair and put on chapstick... :)

Naptime Reflections - Feelings & Hard Things

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 05 May 2015 18:56:00 +0000

I had a great conversation with my mother-in-law about hard things. Hard things like the death toll in Nepal. Hard things like loved ones going through a horrible struggle. You fill in the blank.

My mom-in-law works on Christian curriculum for orphans overseas. She's been to several countries and continents and seen the devastation in the children's lives firsthand. Being an emotional person (like I am), she talked about how hard it is not to take work home with her, and go to pieces over the difficulty she sees in everyday life, not understanding why God allows it.

She told me, essentially, that she's learning that faith is an exercise of the mind. We have to discipline our mind so as not to let the feelings take over - not quash the feelings or pretend they aren't there - but to hang on tight to what we know to be true about God's character. It reminded me of something a Bible teacher shared with me in 6th grade (oh, so long ago).

It's the fact-faith-feeling train! Haha. But really, "fact-faith-feeling" is a pithy representation of an ordered way to think. It means that feelings should be in submission to what we know as fact (from Scripture) and what we hold to by faith. This is my personal lifelong challenge and - I suspect - a challenge for everyone at some point in their spiritual walk.

Naptime Reflections - T. Swift

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 29 Apr 2015 19:57:00 +0000

I'm a big fan of Taylor Swift's album-before-last, "Red." So naturally, I was excited when her new album arrived, and listened to it voraciously.

That is, until I began singing it around the house...and my little mini-me started joining in the fun.

"Boys only want love if it's torture/don't say I didn't say I didn't warn ya," I belted out in my best pop voice, until a little echo issued from my oldest daughter, Ellie, who is less than three years old. "Boys...!" she sang, and suddenly, I really heard the lyrics that were coming out of my mouth. I reviewed the rest of the album, and found myself appalled with the messages I had been pouring into my brain - and my child's brain - as I crooned Taylor's tunes.

This is my disclaimer that the content of T. Swift's latest album is not appropriate for children. There are many instances where the lyrics are nakedly sexual at worst, and worldly at best. I am a firm believer in discernment in media. We imbibe messages from what we read, watch and listen to whether we are conscious of it or not, and so do our children.

Lost

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 29 Apr 2015 19:41:00 +0000

Loud music plays, punchy and proud
And I sit, nervous and cowed
Left in a world that doesn’t need me.

One wants to be seen, to be adored
Rather be hated than to be ignored
This is how I live when I’m losing.

Say, what is my true goal, if I have one?
For loves and priorities die with the sun
Sin and solace descend with the darkness.

The music plays, fervent and free
And I sit, and contemplate me, for
Thought is a world that will always take me.

Naptime Reflections - Facebook is Bad for Me

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 19 Apr 2015 18:36:00 +0000

Hello, everyone, and welcome to the part of the show where I micro-blog about topics on which I'm thinking, probably mostly during the time when Ellie and Kate are napping. Thus the title. I'm so clever, I know.

Facebook is bad for me. It's not bad in and of itself, but my actions concerning it just tend to be bad. Every time I get on for an extended period of time, I have ample opportunity to see how great everyone's lives look compared to mine, how pretty everyone looks compared to me, how much fun everyone is having while I'm at home. I bet that I've been the recipient of these comparisons, too, which makes me either want to laugh or cry, depending on my mood (today is a laugh-while-crying sort-of day).

The truth is, I don't need to scroll through my newsfeed and be all up in other people's business anyway. It has no meaningful, positive impact on my life. Sure, I might know which college acquaintance is having the next baby, but I also think I'd probably survive without such information. I already have software that kicks me off Facebook after 10 minutes, but I might have to change it to 5. It has not proven to be something that encourages me to godliness - not that I believe everything has to have a direct "spiritual" value (watching Cutthroat Kitchen, for example...heh) - but my spending time on Facebook has been a temptation for me to indulge in discontent, idolatry and materialism. Yuck.

Naptime Reflections - Fatigue

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 18 Apr 2015 00:24:00 +0000

Hello, everyone, and welcome to the part of the show where I micro-blog about topics on which I'm thinking, probably mostly during the time when Ellie and Kate are napping. Thus the title. I'm so clever, I know.

This is a stage of life in which I am constantly very tired. For one, Kate (10 1/2 months) still wakes up 2 or 3 times per night (don't ask me why, because I don't know). Add this to the general tiredness that comes with parenting littles, and you can bet there are days, such as today, where it's all I can do to interact with my children with an iota of patience or good humor.

Days like today it helps me to remember the Incarnation; specifically, that Jesus Christ, who became fully human, was certainly pushed to his limits of fatigue at times. He knows what it feels like to have fraying emotions, or the temptation to snap or just throw the towel in. He knows the will-breaking power of sleeplessness. He knows the unpleasant throbbing of a headache. All of that, he experienced, and yet was without sin. And now he sits at the right hand of God interceding for us. I'm so thankful that Christ, as he prays for us, is no stranger to the mundane things with which we can struggle so profoundly.

Naptime Reflections - Death

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 16 Apr 2015 20:49:00 +0000

Hello, everyone, and welcome to the part of the show where I micro-blog about topics on which I'm thinking, probably mostly during the time when Ellie and Kate are napping. Thus the title. I'm so clever, I know.

We're going to open this new blog series with a nice, easy topic. #sarcasm

Death

While we were driving to church last week, Chris caught me gazing out the window distractedly.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

I had, in fact, been looking at the gravestones in a nearby cemetery. "Oh, ashes to ashes; dust to dust," I answered, feeling embarassed. I blushed and tried to justify myself. "Not to be morbid or anything."

Chris quickly stopped me, pointing out that culture likes to call anything to do with death "morbid," when in fact death is a regular part of, well, life. Plus, thinking about it can be good in a number of ways. Not least of which is that it can temper our tendency to idolize things such as youth, beauty, and material wealth. Particularly as Christians, our theology of death is pretty clear-cut, and is fraught with hope, given our belief in salvation and the sovereignty of God among other things. Of all people, we should perhaps be least afraid of the topic.

That's all for now. Peace.

When I'm Alone

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 09 Apr 2015 20:39:00 +0000

Another haiku, because my brain is tired.

Hopefully I’ll be
As sturdy as a pine tree
Dropping this large load

Rest Ache

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 31 Mar 2015 20:49:00 +0000

The ice-stars rise to the surface of my heart and crack
Slowly, slavishly, crackling, they break and leave
Rivulets of tears in their place.
There are peeps of yellow blooms through my eyelids.
Golden-orange sun on blowing rivers of green.
This, my heartache. This, my symphony of rest.
Heartache. Rest ache.
Heart rise. Hope rise.
Chest fall. Rest falls.
Restful.
Let it be, as you called forth the blossoms,
Snowy on the mat of green and grey you built.
You built. So let it be
Eyes open all way, always
Upon the open field of
Eternal Spring.
Lord, I call out and
cry out and
sigh out, to
let it be.

and Soon.

Darkness Marching & Lullaby for Lovers

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 24 Mar 2015 20:55:00 +0000

Hi, friends. Well, my poems this week are not great, but I said I would post them, so here they are!

The first one I scratched out while I was listening to The Hobbit soundtrack. You're allowed to laugh at it.

Darkness Marching

Blood-pulse steps --
Thump
Thump
Dark pocks above the parapets --
Stains upon the sky --
Thump
Here we come to die.

Okay, okay. I know. Catch your breath. This one you may also laugh at, though it's less funny. I find myself at a loss for how to write about real love. I was fine at writing saccharine verse about unrequited crushes (as I mentioned in the last post), but now that I'm married and it's twenty million times deeper than anything I've experienced before, the words don't want to flow as easily. So laugh with pity, at least.

Lullaby for Lovers

Sleep, my lord, a gentle sleep,
A silence deep where you can rest
Apart from churlish cares of day
Crouching, rock-like, on your breast

And I, beside you, heart awake
By edge of Dreamland, vigil hold
To ruin what weapons I bear -
My sins that slay with edges cold

In hopes that when the dawn peeps in
I will not further break what’s broke-
And be only a balm to you,
As worthy as my vow bespoke.

If in our sleep, love, I can kill
The things that make ring false this line -
“I love you most” - you know I will.
Until then, rest, by God’s design.

Poetry x4

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 19 Mar 2015 20:25:00 +0000

Greeting, friends!

I've always loved writing poetry, and as part of my weekly time out, I've taken up composing verse again for the good of my soul. And it has been good for me. The main difference between my poetry now versus what I wrote in middle and high school is the breadth of content - where my old work consisted mainly of maudlin love poetry, my new work embraces the freedom of topic that is necessarily a part of writing. I'll post the last four weeks of poems here for your consumption, and try to update my blog with the weekly verse from here on out.

Also - Whoever can figure out what "Two-Faced Am I" is about wins a gold star and a smiley face.

Enjoy!

Distance

Odes to beauty are reserved for lovers.
And why must this be? For a beautiful heart
Is most bright to behold. And for beauty, I die.
The heart of my friend ‘cross a grey expanse.
Words I grasp for with eyes, but misty they are
Sans breath and sans form. And for beauty, I die.
What things life paints on the endless canvas.
Colors infinite! But the shades of my soul
Are too far to dip my brush in. And for beauty, for beauty,
I die.

Two-Faced Am I

Two-faced am I, wherefore I know well -
My true heart estranged, I shiver sickly inside
And exhale with ugly rattle, a pebble in a shell
Composing words while understanding I elide.

Devious I am - I, deviant, divisive, devise
Ways to exalt myselfishness, selflessness mime
Mud-blind with my defectiveness, let ailments arise
And call them harmless, as if ’twill buy me time.

Penitent am I, cowering ‘neath black cowl of sin -
Loving, brightening (trying) the corners of a little heart
My failing heart you can’t hear dully thumping here within,
Thereby mirroring hope I cherish, end to start.

The Writing Excuse

The curse of fatigue
Is the atrophy of art
Says wife and mother

Sonnet of Ink

Upon meandering, brimful brooks of light
And rampant tempests breaking at the seams
And hov’ring over mellow shades of night -
The mediocre, sick for morning’s beams -

Scrolls outward, line of black for beauty’s birth
And inward, gentle curve for linguist’s life
And skyward, transcendental in its worth
Into the depths of hell for dormant strife

Some souls it scratches out with patient nod
And some it outlines, present but unknown
And some it grabs with passion of a bawd
To claim the lusty fare for it alone

The latter one am I, ne’er to be free
Perhaps you saw ink-colored blood in me?

I Hate Goodbyes.

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 12 Feb 2015 21:02:00 +0000

Rather amusingly, the last time I posted here was right after recovering from a lovely family-wide stomach bug...and guess what. I just recovered from another one. I know, I know - exciting details of life.

Hi! How are you, reader? How am I, you ask? Well...I don't know. Good...I guess?

I say "I guess," because this whole period of life, while not fraught with any tangible chaos, is an emotional chaos of a major s t r e t c h i n g time. Like, a bend-over-backward crazy-yoga-pose-level stretching time. Parenting - nay, life - is not for the faint of heart, and so often my heart wants to indulge faintness. I am brought back to my feet by the Lord, my supportive husband, and the people at church who are like family to me, but the perpetuity of the process is way tiring.

I'm just a little dramatic and lugubrious right now because something just hit me: I'm halfway across the country from one of my best friends, and now my other best friend, who currently lives right across the street from me, is moving halfway across the country in three weeks. My immediate family is in the same dreaded state to which this friend is moving; my beloved in-laws are even further away than that. So as the reality of this friend's move hits, I find myself feeling rather alone.

I'm not good at saying goodbye. It takes me - it takes everyone? - a long time to form deep relationships in which I fully trust the other person involved. Somewhere in adolescence, I taught myself that most people can be trusted up to a certain point, but after that point, no one can be trusted. To build a friendship in which I can bare my soul to the other person without fear of some selfish motive prompting negative repercussions...that is a ruby-rare, pearl-priceless thing.

Kids are really good at making friends! Sometimes they even dress to match!

I have much growing to do in the area of trust - I know I do. Being easily endeared to people in general is not the same thing as trusting them. So if you think of me, pray for me during this time, and pray for my friend and her family in the midst of this move. And if you're a friend of mine, please be patient with me as I learn to trust you more. The good thing about having a few people I fully, genuinely trust is that I know I am capable of fully and genuinely trusting without the world imploding. So, as I grow in godliness and maturity by the work of the Holy Spirit, I will hopefully risk deeper hurt in order to gain a chance for deeper fellowship, deeper joy, and deeper love. Until then, do bear with me.

What about you? What are some things that help you cope with missing loved ones? Shoot me a comment, message or email and give a girl some tips.

Until next time, dear reader.

The Ongoing Saga of the Krycho Momma

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 04 Oct 2014 13:45:00 +0000

I'm here at Jubala Village Coffee, sipping a decaf vanilla latte like a hipster and trying to concentrate on writing rather than people-watching.

The last few weeks have entirely thrown off our schedule. I'm so thankful for the social time that Ellie gets both at church and at the YMCA, but it does mean more sickness in the Krycho household. Two weeks ago, the munchkin got a cold/fever, which she subsequently passed to me. Soon after we both recovered from that, she contracted a stomach bug that, despite my assiduous efforts to Lysol it out of existence, went to me and laid me out for two days straight. I've never been so sick with a stomach virus in my life, and it was hard for Ellie to comprehend why I wasn't leaving the bedroom to play with her. Chris was amazing at taking care of both me and the girls, though. Such incidents make me so thankful for good health, and help me appreciate people (and their spouses) who endure chronic illness with a good attitude and (if they're Christians) a strong faith. It's no small thing - we humans like our comfort, and there are few things more uncomfortable than our own bodies rebelling against us.

Hmm...what else. Well, I finally visited a Christian psychiatrist for the first time to evaluate my antidepressant. Until now, I've only had a family doctor prescribe it, and have resisted the idea of going to a psychiatrist. There are several reasons for this, including (in no particular order), pride, the stigma, and not wanting to cost the family extra money. Finally, though, with the encouragement of my gentle husband, I went, and have not regretted it for an instant. I loved the doctor's perspective on the combined spiritual and physical nature of things like depression, and his understanding of the biological factors that come into play.

Now, if you will allow me to climb up on the soap box:

I must admit that it still makes me nervous to put this kind of thing out in public. I never know how I will be judged. I think it's hard for people to understand who have never had a someone close to them deal with depression, or have never dealt with it themselves. There is that tendency to say, "Well, just find joy in the Lord," or "Try to spend more time in the Word." And truly, my relationship with the Lord is the most vital thing in my life to combat depression. BUT. I don't want to condemn anyone who has said those things, but can I encourage you to reevaluate your perspective on the nature of depression? I should clarify that there are truly circumstantial types of depression (like, the malaise following a bad breakup). However, the kind of ongoing, it-has-a-mind-of-its-own type of depression doesn't go away with a simple mental paradigm shift, nor does it just disappear by my taking some magic pill of happiness. My goal in writing these things is, as ever, to help open up the public discourse about depression, so if you have any questions as you read this, I'm always open to answering them. Hit me up via email or on Facebook.

In other news, the first day of October was a big day for the Krycho girls. Kate finally managed to roll from her back to her stomach, and Ellie learned how to open doors with doorknobs as well as counted to five by herself! You can bet I am one proud momma.

Lest you think that all is going swimmingly in my parenting, I am struggling with enforcing food rules with Ellie. I waited too long to enforce the "you eat what's in a front of you rule," and now I'm paying for it. I have already apologized to my picky toddler for delaying the training, thereby making it harder on both of us. Now I'm striving to be consistent in my expectations...which is really hard, because I am a sucker. Not that a tender heart for children is bad by any means, but sometimes love looks like being firm and teaching Ellie to do things she'd really rather not do.

Other than that, there have been great times with neighbors and church friends, much cackling over podcasts and the new season of Doctor Who, and some fabulous reading material from Mary Robinett Kowal (magic + romance + Regency fiction + Austen-style prose? Yes, please).

Dear reader, I hope you have enjoyed this brief glimpse into my life, and I hope to converse with you again soon. :) Until then, grace and peace be yours in Christ Jesus.

Falling Off the Ladder

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 06 Sep 2014 14:49:00 +0000

Was it seriously over a year ago that I blogged here? I feel like I need to do a total blog makeover in order to usher in a new era of writing.

It is possible that I fell off the face of the planet. It is also possible that my second pregnancy and subsequent delivery, plus learning how to raise a very beautiful and curious toddler for the first time, has occupied most of my time of late. It's a happy stage of life - difficult in its own right - but happy.

And when I say difficult, I do mean that there are days when I'm so tired I want to cry for that reason alone. There are times when I almost regret praying for the Lord to make me humble...because he answers that prayer not by taking me down a peg, but by knocking me off the ladder, then reminding me he's the reason I'm able to climb in the first place.

Parenting is unbelievably humbling, because it is chock-full of mistakes waiting to happen. I mean that in the best possible way. Children - people - are just so complex, the human heart and mind such profound works of feeling and thought, that even my most noble efforts to parent "right" go awry. I often forget that the only answer for us complicated people is the all-encompassing and all-gracious work of Christ as detailed in the Bible, not the list of practices and precepts that sound best to Jaimie. I am constantly reminded of how little I preach the truth to myself...how prone I am to take the Gospel as something to be appreciated but not applied. Just when I think I am being a "great Christian..." BAM! The Holy Spirit is gracious to remind me that it is "by grace I have been saved, not by works, so that no man may boast."

On the more mundane level, I've been enjoying church at FBC Durham (small groups are, thankfully, about to resume after the summer hiatus), working on a novella and my new fantasy novel (from time to time...again, it's a really hard stage of life during which to write consistently), taking an awesome free online writing course by Brandon Sanderson, Christian counseling, playdates with other moms and their children, an overnight getaway with my handsome husband, and of course, the antics, adventures, and giggles that come with the two bright, bubbly, Star-Wars-loving things named Ellie and Kate.

Well, dear reader, that's all I got for now. Before I go, here's my latest book recommendation for the ladies:

Women of the Word by Jen Wilkin - This is an awesome book about how to study the Bible in the way God intended - a faithful, intellect-plus-heart engaging way, letting the Word interpret itself rather than our feelings, misguided notions or guesses doing the interpreting. It's a short read, too, so you won't have any trouble fitting it in to a busy schedule!

I take my leave of you and send compliments to your family in proper Regency style. I'll try to write again before a whole year passes. ;p

A Christian-Schooler's Game

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 10 Jan 2014 17:40:00 +0000

If you've never been to a private Christian school, you might not understand what I mean when I say this: while some groups have their holy wars, we had a holiness war.

I don't know if the teachers saw it, but we all knew - there were three classes of people at our school.

There were the "spiritual kids" (the ones who checked all the boxes on the holiness list - who raised their hands in chapel, or if they were really spiritual, jumped up and down, the ones who prayed out loud in class, etc.).

There were the "decent kids" (the ones that didn't rock the boat, but weren't particularly "spiritual," either).

And there were the "bad kids" (the kids that actually got in trouble, at least once a week).

We faced constant pressure to "be more spiritual," according to the made-up list of super-spiritual things we were supposed to do.

I remember doing some of those things, but my heart really wasn't in it. I didn't really want to do them. I thought, "Maybe if I just raise my hands in chapel, the desire to raise my hands will follow. Maybe if I just join the service organization, the desire to serve others without recognition will follow."

The thing was, it never did.

I did a lot of spiritual things when people were looking, but in the everyday things, Christ was often completely absent. For example, when my mind was on boys (which was most of the time), Christ wasn't in the picture. Who I wanted to date, who liked me, who didn't like me...it was all about me, and how being liked made me feel. I never thought about how God said, "You shall have no other gods before me."

Or how about the kinds of things I said behind people's backs? Girls who trusted me...the way I would scoff at them in my journal or in front of my siblings. As long as those girls never heard what I said, I could still look "spiritual" at school, all day long. It was all about appearances. Who cared about my heart attitude?

I thought that my little list of proper, "Christian" actions would change my heart into a "more spiritual" and "more Christian" person. I think most of us did. The very heart of Christianity was lost on us.

What do I mean, you ask?

Let me first say this - I have often wondered, if I had one chance to go back to my school and speak to the students in chapel, what would I say? I've made up the speech in my head many times. Now I finally know the gist of what I would tell them:

Are you working really hard to be good? You are? Bad news - your works do not...cannot...change the state of your heart.

Do you see those people who are genuinely spiritual? The ones that actually want to read their Bibles, actually pray outside of school, and actually pursue holy lives? The ONLY reason they're like that is because God changed their hearts FIRST. Those actions that you want to imitate...those are only there as evidence of their salvation. Merely doing those actions can't save you. Only repentance - acknowledging you're a sinner who is hopeless to make yourself better - and calling on Jesus Christ can save.

Someone else has said it better than me, though, so let's look at how Jerry Bridges puts it:

"A person cannot be justified [absolved from guilt and declared righteous] without being regenerated [made a new person]."

"...I am concerned that there are thousands of professing Christians who think they have been justified, who think their sins are forgiven and that they are on their way to Heaven, who show no evidence of the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit in their lives. I fear for them that they will one day hear those awful words from the lips of Christ, 'I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!' (Matthew 7:23)"

Stop asking yourself how "spiritual" you can be in comparison to someone else. This is not between you and them - it's between you and God. So if you don't see evidence of real heart change in your life, maybe the question you should be asking yourself is, "Am I really saved?"

I am not being mean nor judgmental. I'm being biblical. Paul exhorts members of the early church to do the same. I'm not saying that Christians will never make mistakes, have "dry spells," or struggle with sin. But if your whole Christian walk is characterized by a dry spell in which you engage in unrepentant sin all over the place, you would do well to remember that "not everyone who says to [God], 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven." (Can't argue with that - Jesus said it.)

To close, the reason I am telling you this is because I don't want you to leave here believing a lie. I want to see you in Heaven, someday, where we can rejoice together! I don't want you to be deceived until your life ends, and it's too late to change your mind. Think about what I said. Read your Bibles - see if it lines up. Be mad at me and call me a hater, if you must, but know that I love you, and only hope and pray that these words grow in your heart until they become reality.

Update From Your Friendly Neighborhood City Girl

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 06 Jul 2013 14:09:00 +0000

Hey, all. Just thought I'd check in to the land of the living and give those interested a brief update. :)

I just went to the local farmers' market for the first time. There's something so refreshing about the atmosphere of a farmers' market. It gives you a feeling of simultaneous touristic novelty and civic familiarity. That is, until you ask one of the vendors if they take credit cards, like I did. Then you just feel like a typical clueless city-goer.

The last two weeks have been busy and pleasant. Due to the fact I'm an introvert, I have been feeling very fatigued though everything that's happened has been good. My parents visited us in NC for the first time June 16 through 22, and a few days after that, Ellie and I flew to Norman for a week to attend Laura Piersall's baby shower and visit friends. Seeing old friends greatly uplifted me! As I explained to Chris, by the end of the week I was ready to come home, but not to leave my friends behind. Would that I could take them all with me to Wake Forest, but alas, we cannot always get what we want.

Ellie did great on the plane, in case you were wondering how that went. I tell you, the girl gets more attention from random strangers than the Kardashians get from the tabloids. I guess that's what happens when you're the cutest possible baby of all possible worlds. I often wonder if that will cause a struggle for her if and when a second child comes along. If it does, that could actually be good, since don't we all have to learn at some point that the world doesn't revolve around us?

Also: Ellie is turning into an adorable girly-girl, which makes me mentally giggle with glee . She has recently realized (thanks to Laura), that headbands are pretty decorations for your hair. Therefore, she will incline her head if you hold out a headband to her, and try to put it on herself if you give it to her. She also learned how to brush her hair just by watching me. She's a smart cookie, that one!

Due to the visits and travels, I haven't written anything in a little while. I have, however, been tossing around a few projects in my head. Remember how I wanted to write a systematic theology book for teenage girls? Well, that is morphing into a desire to write a devotional, instead - a hermeneutically sound devotional that doesn't take one verse out of its context in order to make a point (albeit a good point). It is an attainable goal, and will challenge me in many ways - not only in writing, but in prayer and Bible study as well.

I'm also developing ideas for fantasy novel no. 2. Having a blank slate is incredibly freeing and refreshing. There are so many themes and scenes and characters bouncing around in my head waiting to be given life, be thrown out, or be modified and filed away for a later time.

I've read two very good nonfiction books this summer - "When People are Big and God is Small," by Welch, and "Love to Eat, Hate to Eat," by Fitzpatrick. I highly recommend the former to all Christians, particularly those who find that the fear of man (or, to put it euphemistically, "people-pleasing") characterizes the majority of their interactions with the world and others.

I urge anyone woman who struggles with either under- or over-eating - whether out of bad habit or an actual eating disorder/mental and emotional struggle - to read Fitzpatrick's "Love to Eat, Hate to Eat." As someone who has historically struggled with disordered eating and still often with disordered thinking, if you will, I found this book to be the piercing sword of truth I needed to make my heart feel the weight of the wrongness of my physical and mental habits. The author is dead-on about the root of the problem and the source of the solution. It is no surprise that this - the most "spiritual" advice I've read about the topic - has ended up being the most practical advice, as well. If you want to ask more on the topic, please feel free to contact me!

Well, there's a bit of my life in a nice little nutshell. I hope to hear from you, dear reader, in a comment, email, or whatever else you feel like. Until next time.

N to the C

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 29 Apr 2013 19:53:00 +0000

Hello, friends all. I just realized I've been so caught up in the steady, sometimes mind-numbing, thrum of life - and have focused on my writing blog when I've had the inkling to blog at all - that I've neglected to write here. And that is my loss! Coming back to this blank page makes me realize how much I like to simply blog about life. There's a beautiful simplicity about the day-to-day that's not to be underestimated.

I was inspired to return by one of my dearest friends, Megan. Her most recent posts concern Facebook, and how it affects our perception of ourselves and our lives. Check it out, if you have the inclination!

What's been going on in the good ol' Krychocosm? Well, we moved to North Carolina. I guess that's kind of a big deal. Actually, it's almost the end of Chris' first semester at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. Unsurprisingly, it's been fun and not too difficult for him, since he likes to write and read about theology in his spare time, anyway. There are certainly worse problems to have.

Of course, this threw somewhat of a wrench in my emotional machinery for a bit. Since Chris is working part-time from home and doing school, his schedule is fairly flexible. He's at home quite a bit, albeit working. So, I find it all too easy to try interact with him as if he isn't working. This was especially true after we first arrived here, since I was still adjusting and clinging to the familiar like flotsam in a shipwreck. I've gotten much better about respecting his space since then. After all, he's working hard for Ellie and me - to provide for us. I try to remember this when I feel the sinful resentment kicking in. I have to remind myself that he's not working because it's the most fun thing ever and he'd rather do that than spend time with me. He does enjoy work, but he does it for a God-ordained reason, and that is worthy of great respect.

Deer in the front of our townhouse - a regular occurrence.

Our sweet Elayne Kaylee is ELEVEN MONTHS OLD. Unreal! Her steady growth has afforded me all kinds of new domestic opportunities that seem a bit strange, at a glance. For example: I just pulled a whole squash out of the oven. It's for Ellie's baby food, but still. That may not strike you as odd, but baking whole squashes never struck me as something I would be doing as a function of motherhood. Her increasing mobility has afforded her all kinds of new opportunities for facial expressions, including the impish lip-quirk that indicates she did something she wasn't supposed to, and the bright-eyed grin with lifted chin that shows she is proud of a new skill she was able to showcase.

Proud of herself for eating a banana with her hands for the first time.

Behold, my beautiful squash.

As for me, well, this has been a period of rapid growth. As I described to a friend, there are those times in life when you go from slow and steady sanctification to a sudden leap that forces you to grow in some crazy ways at what feels like lightning speed. In reality, it's as fast as it needs to be, and there's more than enough grace to go around when it happens...but for awhile, you just feel a little bit bonkers, especially (I imagine) if you're a methodical, checklist-y person like myself.

This transition has brought sins and insecurities to the surface, forcing me to deal with them. The feeling of disorientation that came with moving caused me to cling especially tightly to the Lord, for which I am so thankful. Also, our new church has a reverence and passion for the holiness and glory of God that has challenged me right down to my bones. The clear exposition of Scripture has been nothing less than transformative...as I suppose it always is and must be. The Lord has used our pastor, Dr. Andy Davis, to address difficult issues from Scripture, and I've come out the other side knowing and loving the character of our awesome God more.

So there it is, in a nutshell (or a maybe a squash rind). Hopefully, I'll update here more frequently so that those who care can learn more about what's going on with us than what Facebook statuses indicate. Hope you're well, dear reader. By all means, leave me a comment telling me something going on with you.

Contemplations of a Young Mom, First Part

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 02 Feb 2013 21:15:00 +0000

If I build my parenting around ways I can make Ellie like me more, I'm doing it wrong.

Maybe that seems obvious, but this very problem did not come about loudly, but subtly and quietly. Oftentimes, especially when Ellie was between 3 and 6 months and began to show personality and preference, I found myself feeling jealous of Ellie's affection and attention. "She seems to like this person more than me," I would think, or, "Why does it seems like she's happier with (insert name) than with me?"

While I, at first, battled these thoughts with the self-provided assurance that "no one can replace Mom," I began to realize that I was merely dealing with the symptoms and not the disease by doing so. I asked myself, what will it look like when Ellie is, say, 13, and has a favorite female mentor she tends to confide in more than me? Will I feel resentful towards my own daughter? Towards the mentor? Will I make desperate attempts to be more fun, or funnier, or more interesting, in order to draw my child's attention back to me?

I didn't want to be that woman. I wanted to love Ellie, love her well. And though I began to tell myself, "I only feel this way because I love Ellie so much," it brought me to the question: What do I consider love? Vying for Ellie's attention isn't acting out of love - it's acting out of insecurity. That's not how I want to parent.

So, what do I consider "love?" Well, what does Christ's love look like? Sacrifice, patience, care, and compassion, despite whether the person receiving those things would end up following him beyond the grave or deserting him at their first glance of the horror of Calvary. Christ's love didn't look to what he'd receive from the sacrifice. It looked to how to obey the Father. So should my love for my daughter, and any future children should God grant them to me, look - never expecting or exacting a reward for my faithfulness as a mother, but simply growing more in Christlikeness, for that is what God calls me to.

As Rachel Jankovic - a Christian writer and mother I much admire - comments, writing about this lesson does not mean I have checked or could justify checking it off my sanctification list. These things I write about - these are the daily battles I fight. Chances are that if I feel like I have it down one day, I'll be struggling like crazy the next. Let us pray for one another, that we fight these battles better each time they come around by throwing ourselves upon God's grace. Amen.

How Murphy Tried to Hijack Our Girls' Vacation

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 10 Nov 2012 04:09:00 +0000

Murphy's Law: anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

It was a lovely, sunny Monday, and Ellie and I were all packed up and ready to hit the road to Davis, Oklahoma, with three wonderful girl friends (and one Boy Toddler) who I'll call Sweet, Spirited and Adventurous.

It all started with it being "that time of the month." Forgive me if that's TMI, but it really does make a difference, which all women - and any men who have spent time around a woman - know. I was desperately trying not to grump around the house, instead repelling my sour mood by baking chocolate cake, eating the chocolate chips as I went, concocting homemade wheat bread, and enjoying my baby's giggles.

Sweet, Spirited and Adventurous were on their way to my apartment, since we were going to split our group into two separate vehicles, my Lexus (aka Pretty Car) included. Just before they arrived, I checked on the wheat bread only to discover it hadn't risen. Instead it had remained a dense, rectangular brick that might or might not be fit for consumption. I bagged and packed it anyway (Ha-hah, you were my lab rats, Sweet, Spirited and Adventurous!).

Moments later, the girls arrived. That's when Spirited realized that she had left Boy Toddler's high chair at home. After she departed to retrieve it, I recalled that I owned a high chair, and she could've just borrowed it. By that time, though, she was already well on her way back to her house.

I later learned that as Spirited was driving away from her house with Boy Toddler's high chair, she got a phone call from her younger sister. "There's a big box of food here," Younger Sister explained. "Did you mean to take that with you?"

Indeed, Spirited had meant to take it - it contained the ingredients we would need for dinner. She drove back to the house once more and retrieved the food, then rendezvoused with the rest of us at my apartment.

Finally, we were ready to go - Spirited, Boy Toddler and Adventurous loaded into one car, and Sweet, Ellie and I in the other. I turned the keys in Pretty Car's ignition, and that's when Murphy sowed chaos.

All the warning lights - oil, oil temp, engine and battery - blinked on on my instrument panel, and the car would not back out. I pressed down the gas fairly hard to make it reverse at all, and when I began to move, the steering wheel decided to go all ghost-y on me and forcefully lock into forward position, and then the car stopped moving altogether. After stopping and starting the car several times, I decided to put my money on the bet that we probably weren't going to be able to take Pretty Car after all.

Sweet got on the phone with Spirited and Adventurous, who had already started down Lindsey Street for the highway. Meanwhile, I was trying to call Chris over and over without success. As I dialed my dad instead, with Sweet still on the phone trying to explain what was going on, Ellie - who was sticking her little fingers as far inside her mouth as she could manage - scratched the inside of her mouth very hard and burst into loud, pained squalls. So Sweet jumped out of the car to get and comfort Ellie, whose mouth was bleeding, while I talked to my dad and tried to get my dying car out of the middle of the parking lot.

Fortunately, Sweet's car was still available for use, so she and Adventurous decided to go to Sweet's apartment to get it. Spirited stayed with Ellie and I. I was so frazzled that I decided it might be nice to have a delicious Starbucks drink to lift my spirits, but just when I was about to ask Spirited if she wanted to get one...I remembered I didn't have a car (yeah, yeah, First World problems).

A few minutes later, Spirited gets a call from Sweet. She had just arrived at her apartment and realized that she had left her purse with her car keys behind at my apartment. At this point, Spirited and I looked at each other and started cracking up, because otherwise we might well have cried.

Sweet arrived back, picked up her keys, and she and Adventurous went once again to her apartment to get the car. And I am happy to announce they made it back with no snafus, and we were able to toss the bags and strap the babies into the new vehicle and go.

The rest of the vacation went great, except for the part where I decided to free-climb some rocks and take the path of most resistance back down, whence I got stuck on a ledge with the next good foothold ten feet below me... Besides that, our stay in a lakeside house near Turner Falls was peaceful, gorgeous and refreshing. We shared many great conversations and late-night laughs. Furthermore, my car is now repaired and back at home.

I guess Murphy may have his days, but someone much bigger and much kinder has my life. In the end, the dear reader, it's much easier to see how he has it under control after all.

Fear & Frontier

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 30 Oct 2012 21:59:00 +0000

I can feel my blood pressure rising, my pulse quicken with anxiety. Why? One word: transition.

A new season of transition has begun. The last one began with Ellie's birth. Now, just when I was feeling like I had motherhood in hand, I turn around to see my five-month-old barrel roll across the floor to get into the Xbox wires, and eat her first solid foods (which I'm going to have to start actually cooking and storing soon), and take two naps instead of four (meaning I have less time for writing and voice acting), in addition to realizing that we're moving across the country in two months, and my husband's going to school and working part-time, and I'm not going to know where the grocery store in Wake Forest is.

It's new, and so it scares me. And while slipping into the all-too-comfortable "American Dream" scares me more, a house, white picket fence and 2.5 children certainly sounds a whole lot safer.

I mean, how will I know who I'm going to be in these new situations? I know how I am now - I can avoid the pitfalls easily. But in the future, when new stresses beset me and I'm running around like a chicken with its head cut off because Ellie spilled her milk and rubbed peanut butter in her hair and the maybe-new-baby is squalling because he/she rolled over onto a sticker and I haven't taken a shower in two days and we have to adjust the grocery budget because prices went up and income went down and we're taking our first overseas family mission trip in three weeks...then, who will I be? How will I handle it? Can I accomplish every task set out for me in that dark frontier of the days I've not yet lived?

But isn't this a picture of my whole life? Have I ever really known what I was doing? I'd say no, and as it turns out, God has not failed me in staying true to his good, gracious, sovereign character to date. This doesn't make my feelings go away, but the Word does command me not to be afraid. It says to bring my requests to God in prayer and thanksgiving, instead. Friends, if you think of me, will you pray that I will turn my fear of transition over to the Lord in thankful prayer as soon as it arises? I could use the prayers, and the reminders of just how in control God is over periods of great change.

The Fine Art of Discouragement

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 23 Oct 2012 01:39:00 +0000

I've done it, I've done it. I've made discouragement into a fine art. I have fine-tuned the ability to spiral downward into a pit until the only thing that can drag me out is what my friend Katie calls a "come to Jesus meeting" with my journal and the gospel.

When you've made discouragement into a fine art, it takes some artfulness to find encouragement, too - thus the journaling. My journal entry starts out with this:

Why does it seem like every time one big issue goes away, another steps in to take its place? Last year, it was desire for a child. God help me - this year...it's overwhelming discouragement about writing.

Call me a temperamental artist, if you will. I am, and I know it for true. Over and over, I have to remind myself why I write in the first place, or why I should write in the first place. It's to glorify God through my profound joy in the task, I tell myself, as well as my skill in my work. However, because it's so much easier to slip into daydreams of fame and obsession with the opinion of others, I usually end up camping there. Then I end up here, and voila! the cycle begins again!

As I journaled tonight, the Holy Spirit opened up my heart to a new idea - that the cycle doesn't have to happen in the first place, and that my struggle, my almost-daily discouragement in writing, is an opportunity for me to learn how to immediately redirect myself away from worldly goals and toward godly ones. If that is what comes of these days of frustration, all of it will have been worth it.

So, if nothing else, I pray that these days teach me genuine dependency on the Lord for my joy, my purpose and my identity. Discouragement is a lousy fine art, after all, and never worth the time that I give it.

An Issue of Obedience

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 20 Oct 2012 00:46:00 +0000

"You were running well. Who hindered you from obeying the truth?"

A photo that may or may not represent me "running well."

Since becoming a Christian in 1999, I've read this phrase in the Bible many times. It's typical Paul - no-nonsense, straight-shooting style, telling the church at Galatia how it is.

It hit me anew when I read it again yesterday. Here's the whole passage (Galatians 5:1-8) so that you can have the context (context is of paramount importance in interpreting Scripture aright):

For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.Look: I, Paul, say to you that if you accept circumcision, Christ will be of no advantage to you.I testify again to every man who accepts circumcision that he is obligated to keep the whole law. You are severed from Christ, you who would be justified by the law; you have fallen away from grace. For through the Spirit, by faith, we ourselves eagerly wait for the hope of righteousness. For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything, but only faith working through love. You were running well. Who hindered you from obeying the truth? This persuasion is not from him who calls you.

For those unfamiliar with the issues surrounding this passage, Paul is criticizing members of the Galatian church for succumbing to false teaching, teaching insisting that circumcision, a necessity according to Jewish law, is necessary also for salvation. Paul reiterates that salvation is through "faith working through love," and that those who would treat it as an issue of works or law is bound by something lesser than the glorious grace of Christ, "the hope of righteousness."

I am a works-oriented person. I struggle with wanting to do Christianly things just to make God "like" me more (as if it worked that way). A reading of Galatians has, therefore, always been encouraging to me.

And it should be encouraging! I know I'm not the only one who struggles with dependence on works in this task-driven and output-oriented American culture. However, these verses are so much more than mere encouragement - they are challenge.

The are challenge because reliance on grace instead of "circumcision" - the works we depend on to "save" us, in whatever form they take - is not just something that will better our lives when we embrace it. It is an issue of obedience. Paul says, "You were running well. Who hindered you from obeying the truth?"

That simple statement made me realize what I hadn't been able to see my whole life past. Living by grace and not works is non-negotiable. To do anything but what God has prescribed is sin.

To do anything but what God has prescribed. It is sin for me to embrace any thought pattern, lifestyle or worldview that is not the Lord's perfect will. Oh, no! If I did not already know Christ, I would be asking, with desperation, the question that the disciples asked in Matthew 19:25: "who then can be saved?"

Recognizing all this, isn't it amazing that I can turn to the Lord in repentance and know that even in my constant, systemic, unrecognized sin, I am forgiven through Christ's blood? Merciful Lord! I only pray that my current repentance will carry through to its conclusion, and bring about a change in my mind, heart and soul. Praise be to the Holy Spirit, who convicts and guides even when we would be willful and unbiddable!