Spokenfor's Big Adventure

Deer, Deer, Me!

2019-09-14T07:00:00.002-07:00

Have you ever really looked closely at this verse? If you're like me, you think you have but I discovered this morning a key work I had overlooked all these years. The word is "He."

This verse was made into a song I grew up singing and, I may be totally "misremembering" but in my head it was always sung as "we will rest in his love" but that's not what it says. It says "He" will rest in his love. That spoke to me this morning so loudly. He will rest in his love. Read that again, He will rest in his love. He will rest, why? Because he understands his love. He understands that power of that love and he knows that nothing can ever separate us from him because of that love.

The word tells us that God is love. So, in essence, this verse is saying that God will rest in himself. He knows that he is in control, that he's got you right where he wants you, and that he is mighty enough and loving enough, to save you when that perfect time for saving comes.

We all go through rough times, times of battle, times of pressure, of attack, of trying and testing of our faith. The word tells us in 1 Peter 4:12 to not think it's weird or odd when fiery trials hit us from every direction. Peter doesn't mince words here. He doesn't say "if," he says "when." In John 16:33 Jesus himself tells us that we will have trouble in life but he has provided a way for us to have peace in the midst of trouble. We are encouraged to "take heart" because he has overcome the world!

I am arrested by that phrase "take heart." What does it actually mean? When I go to the original language, I find out so much about John 16:33 that I never quite realized before. First, that phrase "take heart." It means to take courage, (did you notice the word "take" there, even in the definition? That denotes action. Courage is something we are told to TAKE!) and to feel confidence. Jesus says he has overcome the world. Overcome means to conquer, to be victorious, to prevail. Now look at the phrase "the world." Have you ever considered what that actually means? In this verse it has, what I thought, was an interesting meaning. It is speaking of the ordered entirety of God's creation, but considered as separated from God. What am I trying to say by all my ramblings about original language and the meaning of individual words in this verse? Just hang with me and read a little bit further!

In John 16:33, Jesus is telling us that we are going to have trouble while we are on this side of heaven. We are going to know trials and tribulations, sorrow and heartache, loss and betrayal and pain, but he has an answer for all of it. He has overcome the world, but remember, in this verse the world is speaking of his creation separated from God. He has overcome our separation from God!! Read that again and let it soak in a bit more. Jesus has prevailed over what separates us from our Father! That is why we can be of good cheer, feel confident, and take courage.

He is our answer, he is our refuge, he is all mighty, all powerful, and all loving. Of course, he knows all this about himself and THAT is why he can rejoice over us with singing and THAT is why he can rest in his love.

So when trouble abounds and things seem to come at me from every side in every aspect of life, my goal will be to remind myself that the God of the universe rests in his love and rejoices over me with singing. If God is at ease and I have given my life to him, they why would I not be at ease as well? So my goal during this difficult time in my life will be to remind myself that God is not worried about anything. He is all powerful and he is all loving and he is in control. My heart, and my life, are safe in his hands.

So I encourage you, my dear reader, when you find yourself awash in troubles and trials and it feels like you will be snuffed out like a candle in a hurricane, to take heart! Nothing separates you from the one who is deeply and eternally in love with you and he just happens to also be the one in complete control!

With you always in His grip,

Spokenfor

Slippery Kitties and Lost Sleep

2018-08-20T08:24:00.001-07:00

Feelings have power, we all know that but where does that power come from?

We recently had an issue with out cats. I was careless and our young, small kitty slipped out the door when I wasn't looking. Then, as I was looking for her, one of the others bolted out the door as well. So, in a matter of 10 minutes, I managed to lose half the feline population of our house. To say that my youngest son was not pleased with me or thrilled with the prospect of losing his cat, would be an understatement! Cue the worry and anxiety and lack of sleep for me. I didn't pray so much as I laid in bed and begged God mindlessly (and faithlessly!) to take care of them and to bring them home. They were both located the next morning and were completely unconcerned and unimpressed by my lack of sleep due to concern for their well being.

As I looked back on the situation, I realized the real problem is not that I love my kitties and want them to be safe. The real problem is that I didn't trust God enough to take care of the situation. So my feelings were simply a symptom of the lie I was believing - that God didn't care enough about me and my family to protect the things that are important to us or to provide the care and comfort Josh would need in the event that our cats were never found.

I began to ponder on how many times we vilify our feelings. Feelings are not bad, they are not evil, they are not shameful, they are a symptom of something. If we are happy (which we all know is not the same thing as joy!), it may be a symptom of believing we are loved because our husband or kids cleaned the kitchen for us, washed our care, bought us flowers, or maybe we are happy because we found a good parking spot, scored a deal on a new pair of shoes (yes, please!!), or our favorite song came on the radio. The feeling of happiness is simply a response to what we have experienced or what we are believing.

What about those "other" feelings, the ones we deem "bad?" What if you are irritable or grouchy because you came home and the house was a mess and your teenager and husband are piled up on the couch playing video games in the middle of it all? You walk in and the only response you get from them is to ask when dinner will be ready. What will you feel thing? If you're anything like me, you're a bit more than irritated, you're down-right angry and, if I'm honest, under the anger I'm hurt and then comes depression.

Anger, depression, hurt, these are all emotions that we would normally put in the "bad" category, the I-shouldn't-feel-this-if-I'm-a-good-Christian category. While some could make an argument that these feelings would be justified in this scenario and I agree, why not look a little deeper? What if these feelings are symptoms of my believing the lie that I am not loved, and even more than that, that I'm not lovable, or that I have to do everything and no one will ever help me, or that it's up to me to shoulder the weight of keeping everything together? Then my feelings become symptoms of believing those lies. Do you see what I mean? The feelings I maybe experiencing are not inherently "wrong." They simply are what they are. The "wrongness" of it all shows up in the lies that I may be believing that are prompting the feelings.

Feelings, in and of themselves, are not wrong, they are not evil or sinful or shameful. They simply are. It is what we do with them that lends them the power. It is a favorite ploy of the enemy of our souls to keeps us focused on our feelings and blinded to what is deeper underneath. This allows him to continue to hide under our feelings and feed us the lie that we are somehow bad because our feelings are "bad." When we see our feelings for what they are - simply feelings and symptoms of something deeper, we rob the enemy of his ability to use our feelings like strings on a puppet and we no longer dance to his tune.

Feelings are part and parcel of being. How many times in scripture are we urged to simply be? It comes in the form of words like, abide in me, rest in me, remain in me and while we are abiding and resting an remaining, we are also feeling. When we take those feelings to Jesus, He helps us sort through them, figure out if they are based on truth or a lie, and process through them properly.

In psychology there are two trains of thought on the subject of emotions and beliefs/thoughts. The first one is that our feelings inform our thoughts/feelings, the second is that our thoughts/beliefs create our feelings. I believe it can go either way at any given point and, in the end, does it really matter? If we are renewing our minds through the word and taking our feelings to Him for help in processing them, we've got all our bases covered.

My challenge to you this week, my dear readers, is to stop being mean to your emotions and just let them be! Whether they are the prom queen or the aesthetically challenged wallflower hiding in the corner, they both have the right to be at the party! So take them out on the dance floor and give them a whirl with the Lord. You will find tremendous freedom in simply being and feeling and dancing!

Until next time, I'll be here being and feeling, abiding, resting, remaining, and chasing errant kitties. I have no idea how something so small and furry can move so quickly!

As always, I'm
Soaked in His blessings,

Spokenfor

Flying Rats, Baseball Bats, and the Armor of God

2015-06-26T11:27:00.003-07:00

Have you ever had one of those days? You know, those kind of days when the coffee can is empty, the car won’t start, the kids are fighting and the dog is sick in the middle of the kitchen floor? Yeah, one of those kind of days. I have and, in fact, I had a doosey of a day last week. It seemed like everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. I have never been so glad to see the end of a day roll around as I was that day!

Let me set the scene for you – Dinner is over. The kids are all upstairs busy with various teenage/10 year old things. J and I are snuggled up on the couch watching our favorite show. The dog is dozing at my feet. The cat is dozing at the dog’s feet. All is quiet, still, and right with the world. I can finally take a deep breath and relax. We have reached a rare state of peaceful nirvana in my home.

And then……

(There always seems to be an “and then”. Doesn’t there???)

Monkey boy wandered downstairs for sustenance as he was clearly on the brink of starvation having eaten at least 2 hours ago. I heard him say “Hey! Who left the back door open??” I roused myself from my semi-comatose state long enough for the fact the back door had been open to register on me and then returned to the very important work of watching tv.

And then……

About 15 minutes after Monkey Boy had procured enough snacks to feed a small 3^rd world country or at least keep him happy till morning, a visitor showed up. It was not your average visitor, this visitor had wings, and little claws, and is known for drinking blood. It was basically a flying rat, also known as a bat.

Let the chaos and shrieking begin!

My screams of pure terror quickly brought most of the man-children that inhabit the upstairs running down. They thought it was awesome!! Great fun!! That is, until the thing flew towards them and then, they too, ended up doing a really impressive duck and cover while screaming like a little girl. (where was my camera when I needed it?!?!) To make things even more fun, it seems the little rodent on wings was attracted to sound so, as it flew overhead and someone screamed, it did this little dive bomb thing right at your head! Things got out of hand in a hurry!

Mumbles picked up the vacuum cleaner and started swinging it in the air, not the long hose attachment, the entire, upright vacuum cleaner. When I finally convinced him to put it down, he simply started punching at it like a prize fighter at the tail end of a 3-day binge – lots of wild flailing, but never actually coming close to making any kind of contact with anything other than himself! Meanwhile, Monkey Boy had darted out to the garage and came back swinging, not one, but two aluminum baseball bats. I was forced to stand at a distance and yell at him to put the bats down because there was no way I was getting close to that craziness! At one point, the boys were standing in one doorway of the dining room yelling and J was standing in the other doorway yelling and the poor flying rat was just going around and around in a circle. I’m sure at this point, nasty little Dracula wanna be was wishing he had never followed that little bug through my back door! In a last ditch bid for freedom, it swooped past J’s head and flew through the kitchen. Of course, we all followed, some of us a bit slower than others. When we all made it to the kitchen we were relieved to find it was gone.

The crisis had passed. As we stood around laughing, some of us still shaking just a bit, and talking about what had happened, it seemed we had come through the trial with flying colors. We shut all the doors that had been left open to ensure the little nasty thing wouldn’t gain access to the house again. I managed to get everyone calmed back down and we all headed off to bed.

And then…..

The next morning I woke up and headed downstairs like every other morning to get J’s coffee and breakfast. Through half-closed, sleep drugged eyes I spotted a tiny mess on the kitchen floor. I thought to myself “how did I miss the dog having an accident in the middle of all the chaos last night?” I grabbed the disinfecting wipes and started the clean-up. Imagine my surprise when, upon closer inspection, I saw it was not actually a mess made by my little white pup, but the head and what was left of one wing of our nocturnal visitor! (give me a minute, it’s hard to type when I’m still shaking at the thought!) I ~~squealed and panicked~~ ~~nearly lost my breakfast~~ ~~came close to passing out~~ calmly and quietly picked it up in a plastic baggie and put it somewhere safe. Then, my heart sank. No, that’s not right. My heart jumped out of my body and ran out the door into traffic!

The problem was, of the three cats and one dog in the house that night exactly none of them were up to date on their rabies shots. (I know, I know! My fault!! Don’t write me nasty letters!) The cats never set foot outside. I would never have dreamed that outside would find its way inside! Now, my neglect had endangered the lives of every animal in the house. Not only that, but if the bat was shown to be rabid, every person in the house would also have to be treated.

I called animal control and the came and picked up the head. The tech was very nice, but told me there was, in his opinion, not much chance there was enough left of the bat’s head to get a clean test. If they couldn’t do a good test, it would be treated as an automatic positive and they would be back to collect every four-legged critter in the house.

That was the beginning of one of the longest days of my life. The hours seemed to drag by. They moved slower than one of my boys on his way to empty the dishwasher!

And then…..

Finally, at 4pm, the call came in. Negative! No rabies!! We were in the clear and we celebrated long and loud.

Frequent readers will know there is more to the story, there usually is!

As I sat at the vet’s office the next day waiting for everyone to get their rabies shot (yes, I learned my lesson!), I pondered over what had happened. There are some important lessons to be learned here. Yes, one is most definitely to be careful not to leave the back door open and a case can be made for one lesson being to always be sure all the pets have their shots. But there is another one as well.

I made a mistake. I thought the cats were safe without their shots because they never went outside. I didn’t think those shots were really necessary because the cats environment was so carefully controlled. Sure, I knew it would probably be a good idea to go ahead and get those shots updated, but I thought I could handle it. I thought I had it all under control. I thought wrong.

I can’t help but think about how often we do the same thing in our lives. The word tells us in Ephesians 6 to put on the whole armor of God, not some of the armor, or part of the armor, but the whole armor. At times, we are quick to grab the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit. Everyone knows the importance of these things. It’s the other pieces, the seemingly “lesser” pieces that get over looked. We need that belt of truth whether we realize it or not. The breastplate of righteousness helps us guard our hearts. There is a reason why our feet need to be shod with the gospel of peace. I know I need my walk to be covered with His peace! But how many times do we make the same mistake with the armor of God that I made with the protection of my animals? I thought I could handle things. I thought that one little thing wasn’t really necessary. I was wrong and it almost cost my family every pet in the house. Well, except for Monkey Boy’s rat, unfortunately. Give that thing wings and you’ve basically got another rat!! But I digress….

My point is, yes, I do actually have a point, is that unexpected things happen, but if we take care to do the things we know we should to protect ourselves, life will be that much easier. There was no way for me to know that the sinister world of nature would find its way into my living room to become a midnight snack for one of my cats. But I would have been sparred a day of anxious worry if I had done what I knew needed to be done ahead of time. If we are careful to suit up in our armor daily, then when the enemy manages to throw something unexpected at us we are prepared and protected.

So my challenge to you this week, my dear readers, is to suit up! Utilize all the tools the Lord has been so gracious to give us. Be aware that, even when you least expect it, the outside will make its way inside sooner or later. And when it does, you’d better have all your shots, eerr, I mean, you’d better have on all your armor!

Until next time, I’ll be here attempting to restore the sanity in the house while guarding against all flying rodents, both big or small!

Soaked in His blessings,

Spokenfor

Inside out? or Outside in?

2015-02-11T19:48:00.001-08:00

But How Do You Show Him?

So you love God? Really?

How do you know? More importantly, how does He?

You go to church and sing worship songs,

but are you living inside out, or outside in?

Because if you’re living outside in, you’re wasting your time.

Your time, His time, our time.

As you strive to present on the outside a picture of what you

think you should be on the inside

Wasted time,

Wasted effort,

soul sucking, heart wounding, fear inducing, worry causing

waste of time and effort shriveling the truest you.

But if you’re living inside out, however that looks for you,

His love is made alive in your life.

He does the working,

you do the walking.

Love him, really love him.

Be captivated by him

Understand his heart

Learn his soul

Fall, yes, fall

fall from your pedestal of arrogance,

perfection is not worth the chase

fall on your face before him

because you can never fall from his grace.

Fall in love all over again, fall.

Listen, really listen

and more than that, actually hear

his heart as it sings

Its a song of delight at the thought of you

Don’t offer back, in the face of such pure devotion,

empty praises and meaningless phrases

designed to impress men.

Truth is what the lover of your soul most desires

Bring the truth as you see it

raw

ugly

shameful

real

your truth.

He will not change it

He will exchange it

When you begin to understand how he sees you

when you get a glimpse of what is his truth over you

that will confound you.

He looks, He sees

Beauty

Grace

Love

Goodness

Worthiness, yes, worthiness

Truth, His truth.

He exchanges your facts, for His truth.

You are worthy, beloved of the most high.

You are worthy because he says you are worthy.

He gave himself for you, withholding nothing

Saving no part of himself

emptied

depleted

poured out

leaving nothing left undone

Why?

Because he deems you worthy of such a sacrifice.

In the face of such all-consuming love

doubt melts

fear is banished

insecurity, pride, judgment

all vanish like the morning mist

and we are lost, forever, hopelessly lost

drawn by

consumed by

woven into

lost in

the very fibers of the heart of God

So how do we love him?

How do we show him that love?

We trust him with our truth,

we trust him with our brokenness

our pain,

our fear, confusion, doubt

we allow him to plumb the depths of our heart

and watch in awe of the treasures, the beauty, he brings out

not because we created them or are deserving of them,

but because he had already put them there

when he formed us

in our mother’s womb

lovingly,

carefully,

gently

with more tenderness than any artist has ever shown

with more purpose and intent than any composer bringing forth

the greatest musical masterpiece

the hands that spread the stars like rolling dice across the night sky

are the same hands that placed each eyelash,

each strand of hair

every freckle

every dimple

every nuance of your personality

the way you laugh

the way you smile

what amuses you

and what touches your heart and brings a tear.

Nothing escaped his careful, loving touch

and nothing, and I mean nothing

was or is ever left to chance.

What is required of us in exchange for this gentle intensity of love?

Nothing, and everything.

He requires that we be nothing more than what he has already made us to be.

He asks that we give him everything,

our wounds

our scars

our fears, doubts, screw ups, and failures

our hopes,

our dreams

our plans, efforts, schemes, and our attempts at our own righteousness.

He takes it all when we offer it

and in exchange offers back

life

pure, unadulterated, never ending life

not just later, but now

not just so we can float around on a cloud someday with a harp and wings,

but so that we may live,

really know what it is to live in every way possible

to live in ways we never knew were possible

to exist surrounded, suspended

by and in the majesty of this great love.

For it is this love that is the power that holds all things together

It is by this love that the universe is kept in order

the planets kept on their course

the laws of nature function

the very atoms that make up the matter of all things are kept in line

and it is by and through this love

that our hearts continue to beat

our lungs go on drawing in air and

that we are granted life and breath.

So it is only right that with this life and

with this breath

we offer back to him our worship

true worship

not from a heart that bears no pain

not from a heart that knows no disappointment

or bitter regret

or loss

but from a heart that understands that despite these things

we are loved

purely

completely

profoundly

recklessly

intensely

eternally

loved.

So we trust him and we open to him

We offer back to him the very love he has showered on us

we learn his soul

understand his heart

desire his hand

but seek his face

and that, beloved of God

is how we love him.

Marks of Wisdom

2015-01-04T14:37:00.001-08:00

It’s the close of another year. I have decked the halls, trimmed the tree, shopped and wrapped and caroled and partied hardily. I have baked the cookies, greeted the neighbors, watched the obligatory sappy Christmas movies and suddenly realized I have inadvertently made it successfully through another 365 days. Somehow, it is the new year yet again. This time of year always prompts personal reflection. It’s a time to look at where you have been, where you are, and where you intend to go.

I have learned many things in the last year. I learned it doesn’t get any easier for one of the boys to leave for college. Number three was just as painful as the others. I learned to be careful when painting the bathroom lilac, especially when you have a small white puppy running around. I learned that a small white mouse can make it unseen from the bonus room upstairs all the way down to the deck out back in one piece. I learned not to take two semesters that overlap by two weeks thereby causing a near nervous breakdown. I learned I am not my grades and, while painful, my first “B” did not actually kill me. I learned I do not like walls that are painted orange (don’t ask!). I learned I have amazingly creative friends who will make epic movies all about jumping into cold water or having it poured over their head. I learned to be careful when backing out of the garage just in case J parked his Camaro in a different place than usual so it lines up perfectly with the corner of my back bumper. I learned roller skating becomes more difficult as you get older and I learned that I am getting older. I learned some truths, some hard, some beautiful, but all necessary, for they all played a part in the mark this year has left on me. I learned it is freeing to stand up and tell your story, even when it is inconvenient to others. I learned I am weaker than I realized and I learned I am stronger than I knew. Thankfully, over the past 365, I have learned.

I have been seeing a lot of facebook posts recently about looking forward and moving forward and things becoming new and I applaud those posts and that sentiment. It is important to not allow events of the past to define you or to hold you in bondage so you are not able to move into the future God has for you to enjoy. I will always support living in freedom from the past, whether that past was good or bad. However, dear readers, you knew I couldn’t simply leave it at that, didn’t you?

Just like everything else in life, it is important to remember to have balance. It is important to not allow events of the past year or years to define us. At the same time, it would be foolish to completely turn our backs on the lessons we have learned through those same events. I recently heard someone call the scars from the past as simply marks of wisdom found. I like the idea of that. Just like most everyone else, I have had my share of difficult times, unfair, unjust attacks, hard seasons in life and just plain old times that were simply no fun. Our goal should be, not to forget they ever happened, but to learn something from them while not allowing them to hold sway over us. God wastes nothing, not even the hard times we go through. If we are willing, He will teach us something through each and every circumstance in our lives. So if we are willing, our pain can become our platform from which to minister. 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 says “blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God” (NKJV). It is when we experience the comfort of God that we are able to extend that same comfort to those around us who are hurting. We cannot do that if we distance ourselves from our past to the point that we no longer identify with who we were then. It is important that we not turn our back on where God has brought us from to the extent that we can no longer draw from it when ministering to others. And make no mistake, whether in the pulpit, behind a register, flipping burgers, selling cars, or working in a typing pool, we are all ministering. The Bible calls us a city on a hill and we all know such a city cannot be hidden. Look around you and you will discover opportunities to reach a lost and dying world. As we carry the light of Christ into the darkness, we impact the world around us whether we realize it or not.

Our past experiences are the frame that highlights the picture of grace God desires to show the world.

So go forth, my friends, into the new year with the joy and excitement that comes from walking with the Lord. But don’t forget the things that have had a part in making you who you are. Draw from those past experiences to meet those around you exactly where they are. Do not despise the platform that Lord has given you. Don’t remain in bondage to your past, but don’t deny it either. It is the springboard from which you will soar!

Until next time, I’ll be here bathing puppies, chasing mice and picking out paint colors.

Soaked in His blessings,

Spokenfor

Tiny Sweaters and Shooting Eggs

2014-11-12T14:29:00.000-08:00

Aaaaaaand, suddenly - it's fall!
Where in the world did the time go?? It seems only yesterday it was spring. I think it must be a sign of getting older. When you're a kid, time seems to stretch out. A school year last forever, the time between Halloween and Christmas is an eternity! Now that I'm older, I blink and 6 months have passed by before I can finish my morning coffee. Change can be like that. Sometimes it creeps in slowly and things are different before you realize it is happening, and then sometimes, things change drastically from when you go to bed at night and when you rise the next morning.

Things have changed some around my house, aka Insanity Castle, in the last few months as well. For one thing, we have a new member of the family. Now before you all wonder how I managed to sneak a pregnancy by you, the new member has four legs and is quite a bit furrier than I am (though there have been times, but that's another story....). Introducing the newest Bowden - Mac! (aka, little Mac, Macaroni, Maca-doodle-do, etc)

As you can see, he is making himself right at home. He's a sweet little rescue kitty that has a quirky personality that fits right in with the "unusualness" of my home. One thing he just couldn't seem to learn was to stay off of J's desk.

Any of you who know J in r/l know he is slightly particular about how things are kept on his desk. I admit I have resorted to placing a sign warning people not to touch it during the times I have had help cleaning. The problem is, J's desk was in the perfect location for a cat to get a little sun. It was right in front of, not one, but two windows through which the afternoon sun poured in. It was like having two little kitty tanning beds. Looking back, I really should have charged, I could have made a small fortune, at least in kibble and catnip.

J, unfortunately, does not share in my entrepreneur spirit. I cannot understand why he would not enjoy finding enough cat hair to knit a small sweater and the occasional piece of kitty litter adorning his workspace. Some people I just don't "get".

After ~~an eternity,~~ ~~a millennium,~~ ~~centuries,~~ ~~decades,~~ ~~years,~~ ~~months~~ several weeks of fussing and fighting the good furry fight, J gave up and went in search of reinforcements . After a foray into our local PetSmart, J came home with a shooting egg. No, that is not a typo, I did say a shooting egg, or at least that is the way he described it to me on the phone. I wasn't sure what to expect!

I wasn't expecting the 12 inch, grey, plastic thing that was sitting on his desk when I got home. It is sort of egg shaped, I guess. In a weird sort of way. I didn't see any tiny little guns so I wasn't sure where the shooting part came in. I reached down to pick it up to have a closer look and it shot me. I had been shot by a large, plastic, desk-sitting egg. Thankfully it was only a blast of compressed air and a hideously startling noise! Still, I jumped sky high, ~~gave a little squeak~~ ~~gasped ladylike~~ and shrieked like a small child being chased by the boogie man! It seems this little egg comes complete with a motion sensor that detects the movement of any small furry little sunbather and shoots it with a blast of air. I have seen this is action and it is indeed, a sight to behold. I didn't actually know that a cat could jump that high from a standstill. Apparently, being shot with a violent blast of air accompanied by a huge hiss from a plastic egg is enough to make those of the feline persuasion take flight, quite literally. That may be the only time I have ever seen a cat go all the way upstairs without actually touching a single stair.

Now I may, or may not have moved the egg near where the cats were sleeping and I may or may not have sat and waited and watched until they moved just right and it went off. I may or may not have laughed hysterically as they were ripped from their peaceful kitty slumber by a sound that, I'm sure, now haunts their little feline dreams. And I may or may not have hurt myself with my excessive cackling. (okay, that last part is definitely true. I think I pulled something...) Confession time! All of the above is actually quite true. In my defense, it was completely hilarious!! At this point, Mac will not even step foot in the office anymore. He now leaves his hairy signature on the chair in my office!

Here's the deal, this big scary monster, this huge terrifying creature, this invader of kitty lives and ingredient of haunting feline nightmares is, actually, quite harmless. Sure, it makes a fearful sound and you certainly feel it's hateful breath tinge with sulfur from the fires of hell, okay, maybe I'm exaggerating on that last bit, but you do feel the puff of air it blows. But that is it. There is nothing else to it. It does not actually have the power to do any real damage. It cannot grab Mac or Koko or LR, who helped me clean my house, with tiny little plastic egg hands. It is powerless. So why is it successful? How is it able to do it's job so well? I'm so glad, dear reader, that you asked that question!

Little grey, plastic egg's power comes from its ability to make those around it believe it has the power to harm them. AAhhhhh! I hear the sound of 1000 light bulbs switching on all at the same time. You see where I'm going with this? It doesn't have to actually do anything. It only has to make the cats believe that it is. Those of you who are regular readers know that I am a little too "different" to leave it lay there. There is a connection here.

It's all about faith, belief, and the power thereof. You see, we are going to believe in something. Either you are going to believe in God and His goodness or you are going to believe that the enemy has more power. There really are no other choices. There is no Switzerland in this debate. You cannot remain neutral. Either you are believing God or you are buying what the enemy is selling. The enemy would love for you to believe he has power over you. That is really all he has to do in order to have control over your actions. He is powerless over a child of God, but if he can make you believe otherwise he wins. Just like little Mac is too afraid of the shooting egg to step foot in that office again, so you become too afraid to step out after God because of your belief in the power of the enemy. Your belief in the enemy's lies hands him the power of control over your life.

So, my challenge to you this week, my dear readers, is to reexamine just where your belief truly lies. Are you saying you believe God but all the while, you are cowering before a little air blowing, funny noise making enemy? It's time we take stock in what we truly believe by examining our actions. Psalms tells us that, as a man believes in his heart, so is he. ( I don't know the reference, google it!) We can know what we truly believe by how we act. So look around and see if you can spy any little plastic eggs in your life that keep you afraid to venture into places the Lord would have you go.

Till next time, I'll be here, herding cats and knitting tiny feline sweaters. I'm thinking of putting them on ebay. Any takers?????

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Hello, my angel

2014-10-14T15:08:00.002-07:00

It's been over four years since we packed our boys up and moved to NC. Sometimes it still feels like I am a newbie and other times, it feels as if I have lived here my entire life. It was not easy at first, but we have managed to build a pretty good life here. The boys are happy, the commander is settled and I can't imagine living anywhere else. One reason life is good here is ~~no one knows my past crimes,~~   I have good friends that became family. I had only been here for a couple of months when I decided to join a small group at church run by a couple of women I had not yet met. Lisa and Maria were quick to take me and treat me as if they had known me forever. I made a special connection with Maria and I was blessed because that connection extended to her mother. Mama Lucia took me at face value. I have never had anyone love me that completely, that instantly. Over the past 3 1/2 years I cannot count the times I have been blessed to spend time with her and it never failed that every single time she saw me there was a hug and a kiss and the greeting of "hello, my angel". I miss my own mom. She is an 8 hour drive away and I don't get to see her as often as I would like. Sometimes you just need the kind of hug that only a mom can give you and it doesn't matter how old you are. Mama Lucia jumped into that role with both feet, without a moment's hesitation. It wasn't just me that was lucky enough to experience that. Everyone in our group of friends knew that Mama Lucia was just that, Mama for us all.

Two weeks ago today, Mama Lucia got to go home. I miss her and in some ways, I'm sure I always will. Sometimes you meet people and you just know they will always have a special place in your life. That was Mama L.

After my knee surgery a few years back, I was laid up for a couple of days. Mama called to let me know she was bringing me dinner. I knew it would be something good and I knew there would be no broccoli involved. She always laughed when I told her that broccoli was from the devil! She was famous for her spaghetti. Scamp was only about 6 yrs old at the time and when he heard me tell her spaghetti sounded wonderful he started yelling something about meatballs! I have no idea where he got that because I don't do meatballs! My spaghetti is dried noodles and sauce from a jar! But Mama L heard him and when she and Dad got to the house a few hours later, it was with a bit pot of spaghetti with lots of meatballs! To this day, Scamp will ask me to make meatballs. I never have and now I'm sorry I never asked her how she did it.

Mama L had a smile that lit up the room. It didn't matter what was going on, she smiled. I can still hear her saying "well, you don't know to know!" The only time I can remember ever seeing her in tears outside the presence of the Lord was when her daughter-in-law and her precious granddaughter had to fly to Romania on short notice due to a sudden death in the family. Mama L worried about her babies, all her babies! Even her tears were for others.

There will never be anyone to take the place of Mama Lucia. I am blessed beyond measure to have known her and to have loved her and to have been loved by her. The Lord decides who we will all be born to and I was blessed by his choice for my mother. I am also blessed by His choice of a second mom for me. I guess he knew I was such a case that it was going to take two for me!

I pray that each of you, my dear readers, are blessed to have your own Mama Lucia in your life. There is something amazing about a mother's love and it is equally amazing when someone chooses to bestow that kind of love on you, not because they birthed you, but because they simply choose to.

So my heart is heavy today as I remember this special woman. But I can't be too sad because I know where she is and how happy she must be. There is no more pain, no more cancer, no more fear, or sadness or tears. There is only joy and dancing. I'll bet she's right in the middle of it all. She wouldn't be hard to find, she's probably the one doing the hustle!

I love you, Mama L and I miss you. It's good to know you are now cheering for us from the sidelines. Thanks for getting there early and saving us all a seat at the table. Just remember to get me a seat far from the broccoli! lol

As always, I'm soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor



                                                   Mama Lucia on her wedding day

Lightnin' bugs, bare feet, and a challenge issued

2014-08-27T07:14:00.003-07:00

I had a conversation recently that made me stop and think. (I really hate it when that happens) The subject was gratitude. While everyone knows that I am ~~grumpy irritable gratitude challenged~~ thankful in my own way, I realized this is an area of life I could definitely work on. So, I have issued myself a gratitude challenge. Every, single day for the next week I will post a blog about something I am thankful for. My challenge to you, my readers, is to join me in this endeavor.

Day 1

As I pondered just what I would post today and just what it is I am most thankful for, my mind ran the usual gamete of family and friends, life and health and such things as those. I rejected each subject, not because I am not thankful for each of these things, but because that makes it too easy. I could easy pick seven things right off the top of my head and declare my gratitude for each. I am asking the Lord to open my eyes to the world around me and show me something every day that I may have overlooked. It could be the window seat I find myself sitting in, or the fact that I come from a loud, passionate family that loves me. It may be the way my children make me laugh till my belly hurts, or it may just be the dragonfly that I see outside the window that reflects the beauty of God in the world. And so I pondered and I contemplated and I wandered the empty corridors of my brain for what seemed like ages as I waited for inspiration. Then the familiar opening notes of a much-loved song were heard above my head (no, I'm not hearing things, they do play music in here, you know!) and I dodged the lightning bolt as inspiration finally made its appearance.

I sat and listened as Ray Charles' distinctive voice, smooth as molasses and just as sweet, sang of my home state. Georgia was on his mind and now it is on mine as well. Having lived in different places in the country, and even in the world, I am aware of just how fortunate I am to have been born in the south. I didn't have a perfect childhood, but really, who in the world did? But today I choose to focus on the good, the good times, good friends, good experiences, good memories. I am thankful to have been born into a family with both an older and a younger brother. I am thankful my parents love me and wanted me. I am thankful for long summer days at the pool under the hot southern sun. I am thankful for little league and neighborhood kick-ball. I am thankful there were no computers or video games to seduce me to stay inside all day. I am thankful for fireflies (which we always called lightnin' bugs) kept in a jar over night as a night light. I am thankful for time out in the country with my grandparents where I learned how to work in the garden and climb trees, shuck corn and shell butter

beans. I am thankful there was always a dog or a cat and sometimes more than one of each around my house because I learned to care for things smaller than me. I am thankful for the memories of cool creeks and warm hugs, singing in the car and laughing till it hurt. I am thankful I was lucky enough to have holidays with cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents that loved me. I am thankful I learned to sit on a porch quietly and watch the evening creep in as slowly and gingerly as a barefoot kid on the first day of summer. That reminds me, I am thankful that I was barefoot more than not as I grew up in the south.

I am thankful for where I come from. Things weren't perfect, but things seldom are, but they are all part of who I am and who I am still becoming. So today I choose to focus on the good things, the things I am most thankful for. Today I will spend some time meandering among the memories of childhood adventures and family blessings.

What are you thankful for today? What is it, big or small, that sings a melody of gratitude in your heart? It may be a faint little tune like the sound of water from a distance creek or it may be a pounding, symphony that rocks your world. It doesn't matter. Whichever it is, I encourage you to take time today to stop and really listen to the music. Learn the words to the song of gratitude your heart may be singing. You may be surprised by just what it's saying. And when you discover the title of your heart's song, share it with us. Post it in the comments below or on the facebook link. Let us share in your music of thankfulness. You just may lift all of our spirits a little without even trying.

For now, I don't care if I am in Starbucks, I'm slipping off my shoes. Now where did I put my lightnin' bug jar? I know I'll need a night light tonight.......

As always I'm soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

My Contentment

Dirty dusty roads that stretch for miles,
winding through acres of dense pine.
Little boys coated wth summer's heat,
a mixture of sweat, dust and pond water,
climb trees to steal little green apples.
Little girls in multi-colored sundresses
host tea parties beneath sprawling magnolias.

Pecan pie and sweet potatoes,
creamed corn and sweet iced tea,
fried okra and buttermilk with cornbread,
all tastes of my homeland.

Graceful homes on tree-lined streets,
modern condos in an uptown penthouse,
Lazy days swatting flies while sittin on the front porch,
Fast paced business deals in a downtown corner office,

Like a siren's song you call to me.
Like the air I breathe you become part of me.
Should I stray, you draw me back,and I run like
a child returning to it's mother.
Such is the hold you have on my soul.

Yesterday and tomorrow make up our today.
Taking the best from our past, mixing it
with the promise of our future.
For all this is what makes up my South,
a land of "yes ma'm, and "yall come again"
of "respect your mama" or "I'll tan your hide".

A comfortable place, content to be what it is.
It feels no need to "put on airs".
A place molded by yesterday, looking towards tomorrow.
A warm inviting place, my soft place to land.
My home, my South.

TV Cables, Geeks, and Indiana Jones

2014-08-03T00:15:00.001-07:00

I think I can officially say that I am settled in here. We've been in our new not-quite-as-far-south-but-yet-just-as-southern home state for four years. At times I can't believe we have been here this long, and at other times, it feels as if I have never lived anywhere else. It was summer time when we landed here from that far away planet named Atlanta, and I guess this time of year just brings back memories from that time. I have one particular memory that I have never shared here. Only a few close friends have ever heard this story. It has taken four years for me to put enough distance between myself and the happening to be able to write about it. Here it is, in all its glory...

We have moved more times than I can now count. Years ago, I actually figure up just how many different places we had lived since we married and, at the 10 year mark we were up to about a dozen. It has settled down since then. In all the times we have moved (4 being across the country moves), we had never used a moving company. This time J's new company was paying for the move. I didn't even have to pack. Wonderful, I said! Fantastic, I thought! What could be easier, I mused?! I loved not having to worry about loading the trucks. It was great that we didn't have to drive that huge load across three states. What a relief it was that I didn't have to worry about finding help to unload everything. Yep! All those things were wonderful, but I will never do that again! Four years later and there are still things that I have yet to find! We were here for close to two weeks before we found the coffee maker. It was shoved in a box with old kitchen rugs, a broken VCR, and some garden equipment. What the heck?!?

Another missing item was the cord for the tv. The boy's tv managed to keep it's cord, but the one for the big tv was missing. I decided that searching through 5,000 boxes looking for a 7$ cord was not the way I wanted to spend my afternoon. So I headed off to the local electronics store. Of course, in my brilliant, motherly wisdom, I grabbed the cord from the boy's tv and took it with me. I wanted to be sure I got the right one. Shoving it in my ~~massively overstuffed 30lb ridiculously packed~~ slightly filled purse, I rushed out the door.

Our little town is not that big. It's no Mayberry, but neither could it be described as a thriving metropolis. It's a nice little suburban town and, like all nice little suburban towns, it has its very own Radio Shack staffed by techno-savy teenagers with barely a dozen facial hairs between them. It was into this domain of teen boy nerdom that I dared to venture. I readily admit that I know nothing about electronics or cords or how to hook anything to anything, but I felt pretty confident this time because I had remembered to bring the other cord.

It was so hot that day, I will never forget it. It was the kind of hot that takes your breath away when you step out of the air conditioned car. The humidity immediately caused my glasses to fog up. I'm sure I resembled a female Mr Magoo as I blindly stumbled my way into the store. I opened the glass door and as I stepped in I was hit by the unmistakable fragrance of Ax body spray, Clearasil and teenage testosterone. As the mother of five boys, it is a scent I am well acquainted with. It was fairly busy, or at least busy enough that the three sales associates were all tied up. I use the term sales associates despite the fact that I'm pretty sure I have had things in my fridge that were older than a couple of them, and I know for sure none were older than my cat, though hopefully more adept with electronics than she was. So I waited. I wandered around the playground of electronic dreams trying not to let my impatience show, until finally someone was free to help me out.

The youngin' that approached me looked like such a sweet little boy. I'm sure he was diligent in this, his first job. He wanted to be helpful and polite. The only problem was, he was so nervous he could hardly speak. Sweat soaked his brow and his tongue seemed to get trapped in his braces. I'm not sure he had been this close to a female since he was weaned. Mind you, I was a good three feet away! "How can I help you?" he finally manged to stutter. My urber efficient mother-mode sprang into action, after all, I had been here a while! I was in a hurry! I couldn't afford to waste time! I reached into my purse without looking and, in a flash, whipped out the cord I had brought with me. As I did, I explained "I need another one of these". And that's when it happened.

In my haste, I had failed to pay close attention when grabbing that cord. I had not been watching when I reached into my purse. I had not been aware that the cord had become wrapped around a large, maxi-pad. As I whipped it (and there is really no other way to describe it) out of my purse like Indiana Jones using his bullwhip on the bad guys, the maxi-pad ricocheted out like it had been shot from a slingshot. In slow motion I watched in horror as it cartwheeled into the air over my head (the package said it had wings, but good grief! I had no idea they were serious!) and made contact with the back of the bald head of a very large gentleman standing near me. When it hit the floor the sonic boom created by such an overwhelmingly female item loosed in adolescent boy world, shattered the front store windows and set off car alarms three miles away. Okay, slight exaggeration there....... It only seemed that way to my ears. The gentleman, whose shiny dome had been assaulted by my feminine projectile, turned around and looked down at the floor, at me, at the young man attempting to help me, and with a simple shake of his head, went back to the wonders of blue tooth speakers.

The poor, stuttering, nervous, sweaty, terror-stricken, young man who had made the mistake of approaching me and offering his assistance, looked as if he just may faint. I have never actually seen anyone turn those colors before. Before he could pass out, thereby messing up my schedule further, I stuck the cord in his face and said "get me one of these". Then I nonchalantly reached down, picked up my errant missile and crammed it back into my shoulder bag. Johnny Electronic turned and practically ran to retrieve the correct cord. He didn't hand it to me, though. Secretly, I think he was afraid to get close enough! He laid it on the counter at the register and then kind of pushed it towards me, took my money, mumbled something about wanting his mother and left me standing there without so much as a receipt, have a nice day or please don't ever return to this store. So I took my cord, bagged it myself and prepared to make my retreat. I held my head up high and defiantly stared in the eyes every male who dared to meet my gaze. Most, having learned already that there are times when it's smartest to just not mess with a woman, simply moved out of my way. One even held the door open for me. Come to think of it, I may have heard it lock behind me.........

"Oooooo! is there more to the story? Is there a lesson to be learned here??"

Why, yes, dear reader, there most certainly is! You see, my mistake was not that I took the cord with me, it was not in my choice of stores to visit, it was not even in my decision to carry feminine necessities with me. Nope, my mistake was in the fact that I was in a hurry and I didn't pay close attention to what I was doing. I was so mission oriented that I missed out on a crucial detail. How many times have we all be guilty of doing the same thing? We all get in a hurry. Most of us lead busy lives, but how different would my experience have been if I had just slowed down a little? I certainly would have spared myself a great deal of embarrassment. And that is the lesson to be learned here, my lovelies. It is important for us to remember that our schedule is not the most important thing and it may not be God's schedule for us at all. Of course, a case could also be made for the lesson of always zipping those things into that little, otherwise useless, pocket on the inside of most purses, but I think that's a different blog. I had someone quote Psalm 23 at me recently, and I mean it was quoted AT me, not to me. Have you ever had someone do that before? It can be very annoying, I'm not gonna lie, (you know who you are!!) but, once again, different blog! The thing is, the verse that says "he makes me lie down beside still waters" jumped out at me. It doesn't say that he asks us to lie down, or he invites us to lie down, or even that he suggest that we lie down. Nope! He MAKES me lie down. It would seem the Lord is familiar with our tendency to be on the run, on the go, never slowing down. King David certainly seemed to understand or he wouldn't have written it this way.

How many times have you found yourself so wrapped up in life and what you feel you need to accomplish that you end up wearing yourself out without reaching your goals? Down time is critically important. That is how the Lord made us and, according to the Psalm, He's not above forcing us to chill out a little. Don't make my mistake. Don't let it take something like the flight of the phoenix to get your attention.

So I challenge you this week to slow down. Take a breather. Chill out. Calm down. Hang loose. Cool your jets. Take a chill pill. You know, just generally take time to rest. Your family will thank you, your body will thank you, and maybe the quivering, young worker at your local electronics store will thank you too.

Until next time I'll be here, making memories, chilling, and getting caught up in flights of fancy. Trust me, that's the only that will be flying any time soon!!!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Does My Femininity Scare You?

2014-07-23T21:26:00.000-07:00

I’ve got just a bit of a bee in my bonnet today. Okay, I don’t actually wear a bonnet and haven’t since I was about 5 years old (I have pictures to prove it, it was white) and there is not actually a bee anywhere in sight, but I think you get the drift of what I mean. I could say I have a bone to pick, but that’s just nasty. I mean, who wants to pick at bones?! I thought about getting on my soap box but, honestly, I’m afraid of heights so I thought it was best to stay away from that. All that to say that I am mildly annoyed today and the more I think about it, the more annoyed I get. Now I know some of you would just suggest that I stop thinking so much because, let’s be honest, it’s not an activity for which I am known to particularly excell. All that to say, this is not the typical blog you, my dear readers, are accustomed to seeing from me. I don’t have a funny story or any more witty remarks. What I do have is something near and dear to my heart that has been weighing on me lately and I finally reached the point of needing to share it with you. So, here goes……

I was having a conversation recently with a friend and the topic of opposite gender friendships came up. This person, whom I greatly respect and admire, made the statement that, although there was someone of the opposite sex that they love like a sibling and would really love to sit down and have a one on one conversation with, they knew they could never do that because it would be inappropriate. At first, I found myself agreeing with the wisdom of this statement. I mean, how many of us would think it appropriate, if we are married, to sit down with a friend of the opposite sex and have a private conversation, be it in a coffee shop or a corner café? It’s better to be safe than sorry, right? No need to court trouble, right? We should avoid the appearance of evil, right?

On the surface, all of this sounds reasonable, responsible even. But is it really? Let’s look a little closer at it. Is it not a case of our over-sexualizing things? If this person is my brother or sister in Christ, if I am happily married and committed to my spouse, if I am being out in the open with everyone I am involved with, then why must I act as if I can’t be trusted to control myself? Do we really believe that we are all so subject to moral failure that we must have no interaction with the opposite sex outside of a handshake across the aisle on Sunday morning? Is this what Jesus modeled for us?

Let me take a minute and make one thing very clear. I am not talking about clandestine meetings, long hours spent completely alone working or traveling together, emails and text messages that are hidden from your spouse. These things are dangerous. If you find you are drawn to these types of activities I urge you to re-examine your relationship with your spouse and get the help you may need to strengthen your marriage. Because once those boundaries are crossed, there is no going back and inevitably, great damage is done to all parties involved. You must take precautions against affairs of the heart as well as of the body. The first, so easily leads to the second.

No, I’m talking about good, old-fashioned, life enriching, spiritually edifying friendships. Why would we think that once someone is married they have no more need for relational input from anyone of the opposite sex aside from their spouse? Jesus certainly did not act this way. There are many stories of times he interacted with women, was alone with a woman, and even allowed a woman to touch him, which as a rabbi was unheard of! Yet he didn’t shy away from entering into relationships with women. He knew the motives of his heart were pure so it mattered not what anyone else thought. When will we, as a church, decide to not allow anyone else dictate to us what is appropriate?

This same friend looked at me completely aghast when I mentioned I had run into a gentleman from my church at Starbucks and we sat and talked for an hour at a table alone. I say alone - we were in the middle of Starbucks! Evidently, this could have given others reason to get the wrong idea. It could have reflected badly on both of us. I just don’t get it. I really don’t. I am a happily married, totally committed, Christian woman who had coffee with a happily married, totally committed, Christian who just happened to be my brother in Christ instead of my sister in Christ. How is that inappropriate? How much have we missed out on because we have worried about what other people might deem inappropriate instead of what Christ says about it?

Once my eyes were open to this issue, I have seen it everywhere. I see it in the side to side hugs or those hugs where you stand three feet away and lean in so that the only thing that ever really touches is the shoulders and arms. In our desperate attempt to make sure that nothing could be construed as sexual, we have, in fact, made everything sexual. Is it that we honestly believe that every man is just a ball of hormones walking around and every female is either on the prowl or so morally frail as to be vulnerable to being swept away by a genuine, love of Christ-filled hug across the pew during the meet and greet? Once again, let me make clear, I am not advocating bumping and grinding across the aisles! I am simply suggesting that we should be able to treat our brothers and sisters in Christ as if they were just that – our blood brothers and sisters. No one would think anything was amiss if my brother gave me a good old fashioned squeeze. And it would certainly raise no eyebrows for us to be seen sharing a table at Starbucks.

I have a couple of guy friends and they enrich my life in ways that are different from my women friends. I have varying levels of friendships with their wives and my husband and I also enjoy socializing with them as couples. There has never been anything remotely approaching inappropriate in our relationships and it would rile my dander if anyone suggested as much. We are the body of Christ and the body is not segregated. We must use wisdom in all of our relationships, but we should never let fear dictate them. I have heard reactions on the level of the red scare of the 50’s and 60’s!

We do a disservice to each other when we act as if we are untouchable. When a Christian brother deems it unsuitable to give me a hug or have a private conversation, it sends a very quiet, but definite message. On the surface, you could say that it is a sign of honor and respect, but is it really? I would argue it could be construed as just the opposite. It could be seen as a sign that my femininity cannot be trusted. Either he is prone to being morally compromised, or my femininity is a dangerous entity that could draw him in and make him fall into sin.

The body of Christ needs men and women who will embrace their masculinity and femininity in its purest form, not a perverted sexualized version, but the beauty and strength each is meant to have by the design of the creator. It is the interaction of the two that gives the body depth and color. Without it we become two, flat, one-dimensional halves of what should be a vibrant, living community.

So I challenge you, my faithful readers, to take a good look at how you relate with all of the members of the body of Christ. You may very well be greatly enriched in ways you would have never expected when you let your walls down and stop being afraid to relate on a heart level with those of the opposite sex in the pew across from you.

Until next time I’ll be here, doing what I usually do. You know, chasing kids and dogs, refereeing teenage dramafests and generally trying to restore peace and order to the world, all while figuring out who all these teenagers are and why they keep calling me Mom!!

Soaked in His blessings,

Spokenfor

Seasonal Lessons and Planting Seeds

2014-05-27T21:17:00.001-07:00

Hi y'all! It's been a while since I posted anything new. You know how it goes, so many things seem to make demands on our time - kids, work, school, laundry, housework, homework, cooking, cleaning, shopping, slopping the hogs, milking the cows, herding the cats - you get the picture... So it has gone in the house of madness, aka my home. But summer is in sight, which brings with it a whole new set of challenges, but most of them seem easier to handle when I don't have to rise before dawn cracks. Mumbles graduates in just about a week or so and suddenly, I find myself with more kids out of school than in school. How in the world did that happen?! I feel pretty old about now especially since I found myself, in all honesty, saying yesterday "Where did the time go? It seems only yesterday...."

There are always seasons in life and so it is that I find myself heading into a new one....again. It's a good thing, though, this new season thing. Everybody has them, the real question is - What are you going to learn from it? There are a couple of things I learned during this past season of life. If you go off on vacation and you leave the thermostat in the house set at 45 degrees, all of your tropical fish will be dead when you return (thanks, honey). If you leave the window open, you know, the one without a screen over the garage, the one the SECOND FLOOR, the stupid cat is going to fall out of it (he's fine! don't send me mean emails, it wasn't my fault!). If the 4yr old next door comes over to play and the mom knows but the dad doesn't know and then the mom leaves to run errands without telling the dad where the 4 yr old is, then when the cops come, you will be questioned as a suspect in a kidnapping (true story, I can cross that off my bucket list!). I also learned that if you depend on your teenagers to pick up their little brother, at one point, someone is going to forget, leaving him stranded at the school until they call multiple people and finally reach someone just as they are about to call child protective services. I learned if you knock a two liter of soda off the kitchen counter you will get a volcano which will spray Dr. Pepper into every nook and cranny on the lower floor of your house. So you see, as this season of having multiple smelly, creative, nasty, adventurous, loving, dirty, rowdy, hyper-active boys is winding down I have learned many things. I'm now an expert in drywall repair. I can bandage a knee, pull a loose tooth, make a mean pb&j, pack a lunch, help with homework and make a pot of coffee all at the same time, and usually before breakfast.

There are seasons in our walk with our heavenly Father as well. Sometimes it's spring and all is new and bright and beautiful and then sometimes, it's summer and the heat sucks the strength out of you. Then it's fall with it's cool refreshing but inevitably, that leads into the cold, deadness of winter. And yet, each of these seasons has something wonderful about it. Without the contrast of winter, we could hardly appreciate the newness of spring. So it is as we grow in the things of the spirit. There are seasons of being so aware of His closeness that we expect to see him standing there if we can only turn around quick enough, and then, there are the other times. You know the ones I'm talking about, the ones no one likes to admit happen in the lives of Christians everywhere, the times when the heavens seem silent and the Lord seems to not even be in the same zip code! I have been pondering just such a season as of late, wondering why a loving God would seemingly withhold himself? I had a pretty smart guy (oh my lawd! DO NOT tell him I said that!!) tell me recently that God uses silence to build our faith. It's a good thing he was not in the room with me when he said that. As it was, he was too far away to be hit by the things I had at hand to throw. I guess you could say I didn't like that answer. But after giving it a little bit of thought, it seems, unfortunately, to make sense. How can our faith grow if it is never exercised? And how can it be exercised if the object of our faith is always in our sight? Notice I said "in sight". The Lord never leaves us, but that doesn't mean he promises to stay where we can see him.

Then there are the times when he is there, I can see him, but it's like one of those group dates you see on that bachelor dating show. You know, the one where they send one guy out with 20 girls on a "date". Yeah, that seems like a good idea! Nothing could go wrong with that one! But I digress... Have you ever had those times with the Lord? He's there, you can see him, you can even talk to him, but it's missing something. It seems to be surface level almost, not heart level. It's like being stuck in the friend zone with the guy/girl you keep trying to get to go out with you. Being close like that makes you crazy! I'll tell you what else it does, it makes you hunger for more. Have you thought that maybe that's the point of what the Lord is trying to do? Increase our hunger?

What season are you in right now? Are you in the newness of spring or the seemingly barrenness of winter? The wilting heat of summer or the coolness of fall? Are you on a group date? or did you get that rose and are now heading out for your one-on-one? It's all about seasons. If you're in a good one, an easy one, enjoy it, it won't last forever. If you're in a rough one, hang on, it won't last forever. Learn what he has for you in each season. Make it count. I can think of few things worse that going through that winter without planting the bulbs so you get your flowers in the spring. Don't miss an opportunity to grow in faith, to learn of him, to plant those seeds that will sprout into fruitfulness when spring arrives. For it always does, my dear readers, never fear, His spring always returns.

So until that time, I'll be here, repairing dry-wall, packing lunches, heading cats, adoring my boys and planting seeds. This year, I'm thinking of putting in rose bushes, lots of rose bushes...........

Till then, I'll be soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Marriage, bears, and the time I nearly became dinner

2014-03-15T13:57:00.000-07:00

This weekend the commander and I are away at the marriage retreat sponsored by our church. We are at the Billy Graham Training Center in Asheville, NC and it is amazingly beautiful!! Nestled in the mountains with stunning panoramic views, peaceful, bubbling streams, and a sense of peace that pervades every inch, it is the perfect place to detach from every-day life and reconnect with the one God gave you to walk with. There is, however, one drawback to this scenic beauty - there is wildlife. Everywhere. Everyone who knows me well and, in fact, anyone who has known me for more than 5 minutes, knows I have a well-documented issue with bears. My main problem being, they will eat you. They are from the devil, everyone knows that. God put bears on the earth to show us what sorts of things inhabit the nether regions of the underworld. Anyway, you get the picture.
Last night we had our first session here. We meet in a building just a little ways up the mountain from where we are staying, but they graciously provide a shuttle to take us back and forth. It was a great meeting with an interesting, engaging speaker and despite being exhausted from the drive and such we really enjoyed ourselves. Afterwards, there were snacks downstairs and plenty of time to sit and talk and enjoy ourselves. Eventually, it was time to head back to our room and here's where things got dicey. You see, I wanted to wait for the shuttle, but the commander wanted to walk. W.A.L.K! In the dark, at night, in the woods, in the mountains, where there are bears! (see above) It's amazing how quickly all those lovely words about giving yourself for your spouse, about doing things just because it makes them happy, about putting them first can disappear. Gone, every. Last. Word. When bears are involved, all bets are off! The thing is, the Holy Spirit can be very difficult to work with at times and though I tried and tried to ignore him, he continued to nudge and nudge and ~~scream in my ear~~ whisper softly to my heart to step out of my comfort zone and do something my nature loving husband enjoys. I have nothing against nature, I enjoy nature. I could stare out the window at it all day long! Eventually, I could not ignore it any longer so I agreed to make the dangerously epic journey back to the lodge. Yes, you heard me, I was willing to make the 1/4 mile trek through the bear infested woods, straight down the side of a mountain, in the dead of night back to the safety of the room, all for the love of a certain bald man, despite his scoffing at my bear issue! Imagine my horror, my abstract terror, when we reached the trail head to find a sign informing us about the BEARS!! The commander was quick to point out the part that described the furry monsters as "shy" and "non-aggressive". My problem is, with my luck we would run into the one bear in these mountains with PMS! I'm pretty sure that I am the equivalent of chocolate to a PMS'ing bear. I've been told if I ever meet a bear, I don't have to run faster than the bear, I just have to run faster than the one I'm with! The only thing bad about that is the commander can run laps around me so I would be pretty much toast! And yet love drove me onward, well, love and the fact that by this time we had missed the last shuttle. I was quite proud of myself when, a mere 15 minutes later, I had completed my epic adventure of walking 1/4 mile, on a wide, graveled, well-lit path, all the way back to my room. I was proud and my husband was happy. There's still no need for him to start planning our next outdoor quest, but I'm making baby steps.

Now, dear readers, those of you familiar with my writings know there is always more to the story and this is no different. I had come to the mountains to reconnect with my husband, to disconnect from life for just a little while. I came to step into relaxation and peace. I did not come to step out of my comfort zone, but I am glad that I did. It made me think and you all know how much I hate it when that happens. How many times has the Lord brought something to us that is out of our comfort zone and we run the other direction? How many adventures have we missed out on because of fear and trepidation? I have to say that I am taking that lesson home with me this weekend. It has been about more than just my marriage, it has been about me, and I guess that ultimately impacts my marriage.

So, my challenge to you this week, my friends, is to find you comfort zone, define the parameters and then jump right out of them! You may be surprised what you may learn about yourself, those around you and the Lord himself.

The next time someone says "there's bears in them woods" I can proudly reply, "maybe, but I'm not afraid!" At least, there was this one time...........

Till next time, I'll be here reconnecting, disconnecting and staring at nature........... from my window!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Guard Duty and an Unattended Ham Sandwich

2014-02-06T12:03:00.000-08:00

Imagine, if you will, a quiet afternoon. The rain is falling softly outside my window. I tucked in at my desk with a nice up of coffee and my schoolwork. I can hear my music playing quietly and one of my boys stirring around in the kitchen. My house is actually in a state of being fairly neat and tidy, if only because we had guests over this past weekend for the superbowl and the boys haven't had quite enough time to destroy it yet. The overall picture is one of contentment and peace. If you know me, at all, you know it wasn't meant to last....

As I sat at my desk delving into the wonders of the different methods of behavioral research (insert sarcasm here! ugh!), I was jarred from my peaceful contemplation by a sound that everyone who has ever owned an animal or a small child knows well. (yes, I realize you cant own a small child. don't write me letters...) It was the sound that usually comes in the middle of the night and makes you reach for your slippers before putting your feet on the floor. It is the sound made when something has been ingested that a small tummy somewhere is not too happy about.

Those of you who have spent time here, in the scary alleyways of my brain, are aware of some of the many animals I share my home with. (no, I'm actually not including my children in that statement!) This time I'm referring to the four-legged, furry ones. This time, it was Koko, the once stray now dearly loved grey tabby that routinely makes my life crazy. It is from the devil, the sound! Not Koko! (though some of the sounds and smells that come wafting from the general vicinity of the little box most definitely have their origins somewhere in the nether regions, but that's for another post) I first heard it coming from the kitchen region, then just a few seconds later, from the hallway area, very shortly after that, he hit the dining room. I refused to even get up and move that direction until the sounds ceased. I had to hear them and I had to deal with the outcome, I didn't want to see it action! Right about that time, Monkey boy came back down the stairs and announced to the world what the sounds had already told me. Then, my luck changed. Monkey Boy said "eewww! he's choking on a bunch of lunch meat!" Lunch meat??? Where did the cat get lunch meant??? Did he grow a couple opposable thumbs and can open the refrigerator? Nope, there was no evidence of evolution at work here. It was simply a case of Monkey Boy making a sandwich and then running upstairs to get something and leaving aforementioned cat luring culinary delights unattended on the counter. Once I got over my irritation about the fact that the cat was on my kitchen counter I realized I was off the hook for the clean up. Monkey Boy is the one that caused the mess so he was the one that got to clean it up. (score one for me)

Is this just a ~~cute~~ gross little story about cat puke and distracted teenagers? Nay, my dear readers! There is a lesson here, believe it or not. (I know some of you are sitting there thinking "where in the name of all that is holy is she going with this story?! admit it!) Let's look a little closer at this whole anecdote. The problem did not originate with Koko and his insatiable hunger for all things deli. No, the problem came about because the meat was left unattended. Koko was simply following his nose and his instincts. He was just hanging out, prowling around seeking what he may devour. (see where I going now???) If Monkey Boy had had been a little more intentional about guarding his lunch for out of it flows the wellspring of life, this would never have happened. (how about now??? get it now??)

The point is, there are many things we have, peace, contentment, joy, health, relationships, but mostly our heart, that deserve to be guarded. The word tells us in 1Peter 5:8 that we have an adversary who prowls around as a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour. That is one reason why the Lord instructs us in Proverbs 4:23 that we should "above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it." We have been given wonderful gifts from the Lord, gifts of abundant life, joy, peace, so many things flow from his heart to ours. It is important for us to consciously guard against the enemy who would love nothing more than to sneak in and devour. Monkey Boy made his mistake by leaving his sandwich unattended, or unguarded and Koko devoured it. What followed was a mess of epic proportions but he learned to be aware of the domesticated lion-ett who roams our house seeking what he may devour!

This week, I would challenge you, my dear reader to be aware of the lion-etts in your life. Make an intentional effort to guard your heart from those who would devour it with strife, gossip, bitterness, anger, or a multitude of other unnecessary and unpleasant things. Become aware of what's in there. It's hard to guard something you don't know, now isn't it? Let the Lord show you where your weaknesses are, where the wounds that weaken your heart are. That is where the enemy is going to target you, in your weaker areas, but in your weakness He is made strong. So dust off that armor and take a stand in defense of your heart.......and your lunch. Because a point could be made for the importance of them both!

Until next time, I'll be here chasing kids, herding cats and buying more lunch meat!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Don't Hang Your Hopes on Malfunctioning Christmas Hooks

2014-01-24T22:32:00.002-08:00

Yes, this is a new year’s/Christmas post. Yes, I realize that it is now the end of January. Yes, I am also aware that this fact means that I am late posting my new year’s/Christmas post. I could weave an elaborate tale to excuse this lapse, but it’s late and I’m tired and my brain has used up all the available bandwidth for the evening, so let’s just say that, yeah, it’s late...

This is the time of year when we all reflect on the past 12 months. In my case, I reflect on the past 12 months and breathe a sigh of relief that I managed to keep all of the creatures that insist on calling me “Mom” alive for another year. There were no bones broken, no stitches required, no major illnesses, no major car accidents, no one was thrown out of school, arrested, or labeled a delinquent. All in all, that adds up to a pretty good year for me.

Most of you know that I returned to school recently to finally pursue my dream of a degree, an actual piece of paper to prove that I have a working brain in my head that does something other than keep my hair from falling out! (come to think of it, what does that say about J??) Because of the craziness of my new schedule, (okay, you caught me! My schedule had nothing to do with it!! I’m just crazy!!) we were a little late getting the tree up this year. We finally managed to get it up and decorated. I use the term “we” loosely. In years past it was a family affair, this tree decorating thing. I would prepare an abundance of junk food and we would make a party of it. It evolved into a tradition with the same foods being prepared every year and the boys all joining in to get the ornaments on the tree. Now that they are older and busy with much more important things like girlfriends and video games, they still show up for the party, but now it’s only for the food. They make a plate and disappear back upstairs or park themselves on the couch to shout instructions to those of us trying to adorn the evergreen. This year proved no different. The only time the older boys hung an ornament was when we ran across one they had created or one that had their name on it. We all have special ornaments that carry special memories for us, even J.

Many years ago, when we were a young, broke couple with a couple of kids and continuing his college education was still a dream, I bought J a Ga Tech ornament. It was gold and black and had Buzz the bee on it. Every year, even if he did nothing else, J would hang his Ga Tech ornament. This year, however, I feared the tradition may come to an end. I couldn’t find it! I reached the bottom of the box and it was nowhere in sight. After digging around a bit, I found it down in the corner under some packing paper. I was so excited. J had already gone back upstairs so I walked over to the bottom of the stairs and, holding it proudly up by it’s little metal hook, I shouted “J! I found your Ga Tech ornament!!” It was at that moment that the little metal hood that had steadfastly secured this little gold ball to nearly 20 different Christmas trees finally gave way. As if in slow motion, I watched in horror as the much loved gold and black ball with the cute picture of Buzz on the side hit the hard wood floor and shattered into a million pieces. In disbelief, I realized I stood holding nothing but the top of that little metal hook. My glorious shout of victory upon finding it was immediately followed up by an incredulous shout of “J! I broke your Ga Tech ornament!” He told me later he thought I was kidding him. Sadly, I was not.

Is there a lesson here, you ask? Well, yes dear reader! There is always a lesson! I guess you could say I had become somewhat complacent about my ornaments. I had not really looked at them, checked them over for damage or weakness in, well, ever! So it completely caught me off guard when it broke. I am reminded of the scripture that says “Be careful when you think you stand, lest you fall”. I had assumed the little gold hook would continue to hold the same as it always had, and therein I made my mistake – I assumed.

One thing I have learned, is the danger of assumptions. We can get into trouble when we assume the Lord is telling us to ______________________, (fill in the blank) just because our friends or family members are doing it. It could be working in the nursery at church or teaching a Sunday school class, singing in the choir, reading that popular book, shaving the cat, taking underwater basket weaving, bull-fighting, mud wrestling or belly-dancing. (is it just me, or did that list somehow go waaaay off track???) Here’s the deal, even good deeds done for the wrong reasons become bad. There is a verse in Ephesians 2:10 For we are God’s handiwork created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. Pay attention to the last little bit of the verse – “God prepared in advance for US to do”. That is a personal thing, that’s not really a royal “us” there. God has a plan for each one of us that includes certain tasks for us to do. What do you think happens when we decide to take on something the Lord does not mean for us to attempt? Sure, in our natural giftings we can manage to achieve some success at times, but at what cost? If we are doing something not mean for us, that means it is meant for someone else. If we are doing it, that means they are not doing it. (I know that’s a difficult concept for some, but stick with me here) If they are not doing what the Lord means for them to do, they are not learning the lessons the Lord had for them to learn as they completed that task, whatever it may be. So while we may be fulfilling our need to be Susie Spiritual, we are robbing a brother or sister of a blessing from the Lord. Just because we can do something, doesn’t mean that we should. The Lord is pleased with a heart that desires to serve others, but let’s make sure that as we are busy working for him, that we are not simply attempting to fill the places in our heart meant for relationship with him with that busyness. It’s important to not assume that just because there is a need and you can, that you are the one meant to fill it.

Assumptions can get us into trouble. They can take us places we were never meant to be and therefore don’t have the grace for. In the coming year one of my goals is to stay on track a little better, to exercise my faith by listening for his voice. Lately, the only exercise I seem to get is when I jump to conclusions and run off at the mouth! But I digress... I challenge you, my lovely friends, to be careful not to fall into the old routine, the usual way of doing things simply because it is the way you have always done them. Are you assuming that is the way it will always be? I gladly share with you a page from the book of insanity that is my life so you may be spared the lesson I learned. Assume nothing! Ask the Lord to show you where he may be leading you in the new year, what new things he may have for you and what new lessons there are to be learned. But don’t be surprised when the Lord shows up and asks you to take on something new, something out of your comfort zone. And when you’re standing on the edge of that cliff and the Lord tell you to step on out into thin air, don’t assume that he’s going to catch you. He may just be teaching you to fly.

Until next time I’ll be here, checking my hooks and cleaning up shards of gold and black glass as the fragrance of evergreen, pizza rolls and nacho dip still linger on the air...

As always, I’m soaked in His blessings,

Spokenfor

The Psychology of smelly cats and melted wax

2013-11-09T10:32:00.000-08:00

It's been quite a while since I sat down and put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard as the case may be, in order to share with you the strange ramblings in my head. But I had an interesting thing happen this morning and that, coupled with the throngs (at least 2 or 3!) of people who have emailed me to ask when I would write again, I decided it was time to welcome you into my slightly off-kilter world once again.

Those who know me IRL and some of you who are my virtual friends only, know that I returned to school this past year. I am well on my way to finally earning my degree in Psychology. I thought since I had spent so much time in therapy already I should have a pretty good handle on things. So I commandeered the front room, as we call it, and turned it into my office. I got a desk (thanks, Mom!), painted the walls, got some shelving (again, thanks, Mom!) and even let J have a little table across from me to do whatever it is he does in his home office. The problem is there is one other thing that had to stay in my office; Koko's litter box. I know what you're thinking, but there was no other place for it and since he is carrying on a strange bromance with one of my boys, I couldn't very well toss the little furball out and break up such a wonderful example of cross-species male bonding. So the box is in my office but I did set up a quaint little picture frame screen to shield it and add privacy. The privacy is for me, he certainly doesn't care! As you can see from the picture that I hopefully was able to upload here, there are, as of yet, no pictures in the frames but I'm working on it. The boys most helpfully suggested pictures with different poses of the different cats utilizing the hidden receptacle but I quickly vetoed their gross, although bizarrely clever idea.

Koko is an interesting cat. He was a stray that found a home with us a while back and I don't think he had his mommy cat long enough as he has a tendency to try to nurse your ear if you let him. (that's a different post all together) Here's the thing with Koko though, as cute as he is, as funny as he is and as much as I enjoy him, he does things behind that screen that have made wallpaper remover unnecessary. It never fails when I am racing a deadline on an important assignment he will hear the call of nature and make a visit to my office. Sometimes I am sure I can hear him muttering in his little kitty voice in his hidden corner; "meow! what did I eat?! Wow! I don't remember that!" as the foul fog slowly drifts over my office in a manner similar to the old horror movie "The Mist". I've gone through 2 goldfish and several house plants and I finally decided something had to be done!

All of that leads me to today's little lesson. Have you guys seen the plug in wax warmers? They are cute little ceramic bowls that plug in and when you put a cube of vanilla scented wax on the plate that sits on them, it melts and releases a lovely cat box odor covering fragrance. So when Koko came running, and I do mean RUNNING, down the stairs this morning and went straight behind the screen, I knew what was coming. So I plugged in my new little contraption and waited for the lovely fragrance. A few minutes later, I removed my gas mask to test the air quality and was disappointed to find it still not breathable. When I checked my little gadget, I found it was hot. It was so hot, in fact, that the bottom of it had slightly melted the plastic on which I had set it but the plate where you put the wax was barely warm! I fiddled with it (yes, it's a word, it's a Southern thing!) and fiddled with it. It was so hot, I had to use pot holders to move it around and I still couldn't figure out why it wasn't working. I couldn't hold my breath much longer so I had to work something out. I could see that the plate that held the wax didn't sit right down on the little bowl thingy, that had to be the problem! I picked it up and turned it over to look at the bottom, and that's when it hit me. I had the bowl upside down. I had set the plate on the bottom of the bowl and put the heating element directly down on the plastic! In my defense, that is the way it was in the box, I had just taken it out and plugged it in! After setting things right, the wax melted and it now smells better in here, a little like vanilla scented cat litter, but I digress.....

Those of you who are frequent visitors to the intricacies of my life know there is always something else to the story and this one is no different. How much time did I waste holding my breath, melting plastic and generally fussy with things unnecessarily? All I needed to do was to retrieve the instructions from the box in the trash where I had filed them and read! I thought I had it all figure out on my own. How many times in life have we done the same thing? There is a verse that says "There can be a way that seems right to a person, but at it's end are the ways of death" (Proverbs 14:20 CJB)
Just like I had been given instructions on the proper set up and use of my wax melter thingy, we have been given instructions on the best way to walk out our lives. We have been given the word in written form and, even better, we have complete access to the author so we can be sure we are understanding it. I lost time messing around with my gadget, but worse, I have, many times, lost time going down the wrong path because I didn't consult my instruction manual. I lost time wandering down the path of unforgiveness, the road of gossip, the trail of judgement, and the avenue of pride. It was only when I finally realized things were not going as they should, that I was not where I wanted to be, that I went back, checked the instructions and figured out where I went wrong. After that, it wasn't long before things started smelling a lot better in my life!

So that is my challenge to you, my dear readers. Hang on to that instruction manual, better yet, hang out in it, soaking up every word. And when you have trouble getting a grip on what it is saying to you, you can always ask the author. He's sitting right there with you. There is no need to stumble around in the smelly darkness trying to figure out how to work things on your own. Be smart! Go read the instructions!

Until next time, I'll be here, studying hard, reading the instructions, psychoanalyzing the cat,
and transferring my gas mask to the boys bathroom. It's almost time to clean it, but that's another smelly post for another time!

As always, I am soaked in His blessings,

Spokenfor

Hair Cuts, Sweaty Boys and Growth Hormones

2013-08-23T18:51:00.004-07:00

Summer is finally coming to an end. In some ways it feels as if it has lasted two lifetimes but that is not unusual when you have 57 boys in your house. (those of you who know me, know that I never and I mean never exaggerate!) In other ways, it feels as if I only blinked twice and fall is on the horizon. School starts back, for us, Monday. The new school clothes have been purchased, the needed supplies are stacked in the dining room waiting to be shoved into new backpacks and school lunch goodies line the pantry. The only thing left, was the necessary back to school haircuts.

Yesterday found Scamp and I at the salon, or as an 8yr old boy calls it, “the haircut place”. His golden curls had been let go for the summer and now framed his face beautifully and rested down on his shoulders in a manner quick to bring flashes of envy to every female. He is still my baby and I don’t mind if he looks the part. He jumped up into the chair and I, trusting the friend who was doing the cutting, went and sat down out front to get some reading done. I had no idea this so called “friend” either secretly hated me or held a grudge against angelic looking little boys. Imagine my shock when, a mere 15 minutes later, a half-grown boy walked up to me and called me mom! I almost expected him to ask for the car keys! His curls, while still very much there, were short and manageable and neat. In actuality, she had done exactly what I had asked her to, but I had no idea what would be the outcome! Somehow, in that short window, with nothing more than a spray bottle, a pair of scissors, and a comb, she had transformed my baby! ( I thought that was water in the spray bottle. Now I’m wondering if it was growth hormones!)

It was one of those pivotal moments we sometimes have as parents, one of those moments when you look down and realize you have crossed into the next phase in the life of your child and you never even saw it coming. Suddenly, my little Scamp seemed to talk more and express himself better. He stood a little taller and was a little more independent. All of this happened in the course of one 15 minute haircut. Or did it? If I step away from it and try to gain a little perspective, I am forced to admit these changes have been coming for a while, no matter how hard I tried to make it not so. He was already growing up, I just couldn’t see what he was becoming because I couldn’t let go of what he once was.

Did you read that last sentence – I mean really read it? How many times have we missed out on something new the Lord was doing because we couldn’t let go of the things he had already done? It can cause such turmoil in your life and in your heart. Scamp had already left toddlerhood long ago, zoomed through the preschool age and made short work of 1^st and 2^nd grade but I had somehow almost missed it totally because in my head he was still my baby. I wonder how much of this stage I would have missed out on because I couldn’t see it for what it was. You see, it doesn’t matter if I realize it or if I acknowledge it, he is growing up. There is a statement that I like to say to my boys that annoys them (why do you think I say it to them?! A mom needs to have a little fun!); “your acceptance of the truth is not necessary to establish it as truth”. In kid terms; “it is what it is whether you like it or not!”

There are advantages to my experience yesterday at “the haircut place”. It has made me so much more aware of the reality of where my kids are in their lives, and because of that, I am more appreciative of the time I have with them. Last night, as I was putting Scamp to bed, I laid down beside him and shared his pillow for just a bit. He put his put his arm around my neck, snuggled down on my shoulder and said “you’re my best girl”. When I could speak again, I told him he was my best boy. Then he smiled so sweetly, gave me a kiss and closed his eyes. I lay there holding my now half-grown youngin and tried to capture in my mind exactly the way that moment felt; the softness of his now shortened curls on my cheek, the feel of his head on my shoulder, the way his breathing became slower and deeper as he dozed and even the way he smelled. It is no longer that indescribable baby fragrance of powder and formula and diapers. Now it’s more the smell of sweat, creek water, dirt, nerf guns and maybe little green crabapples. So goes the way of life and raising boys.

My challenge to you this week is to take a good look at those around you and yourself. Ask the Lord to open your eyes to let you really see your loved ones as they are now, in this moment, today. Let us not allow the treasured memories of what once was hamper our ability to make and enjoy delightful new ones. Let’s live in today’s reality.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to rescue the cat from the dryer. It seems third graders have some unique ideas of fun!

Till next time, I’ll be here – sniffling a little, snuggling a little, but mostly learning to live in the moment because one trip to the salon taught me an important lesson. When you’re raising kids, there’s no time to blink!

Soaked in His blessings,

Spokenfor

Purple puppies and sprained ankles

2013-06-12T16:12:00.001-07:00

Today was a bittersweet day; graduation day for Surfer Boy. I'm really not sure how it got to this point so quickly, but let me back up and start a few weeks ago to tell this story.......

Graduation is coming and my house could use ~~being bulldozed and built again~~ a little touching up to get ready for the overnight guests as well as the graduation party planned. So I planned a week of painting and other projects to be done the week or so before the in-laws arrived. It was all going semi according to plan when J threw a wrench in the works. It seems that his boss required him to travel the last 4 days before his parents arrived. He would not get home before they got here. Okay, so all the projects I needed him to do for me, I would have to do myself. "That's okay", I thought, "I can do this. I'm a grown, ~~clumsy~~ competent woman. I can handle this." I didn't worry too much. I can handle a paint brush and screw driver as well as the next person. I had no idea the fate that awaited me.

Picture it; it's Friday night and J is taking me out to dinner. I've been working hard, he's about to leave and we need a little couple time. I am ~~waltzing~~ ~~floating~~ ~~gliding~~ slumping down the stairs carrying my cup of coffee when the unthinkable happens. Actually, I guess it wasn't actually unthinkable, I mean it really shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone who knows me. Anyway, I fell. Not your typical stumble-down-a-few-stairs-grab-the-rail-and-recover type of fall. Nope, one foot slipped right off the front of the stair as I stepped down and the other one doubled back up under me and I fell, in a most unladylike way, down 2/3 of the stairs. J could hear me hollering from outside. I did not, however, spill my coffee! What did you expect, it was in my favorite mug! After a trip to the ER, final outcome - not broken, but a bad sprain. So I found myself, in an air cast, on crutches, a house full of half finished painting projects, with a husband headed out of town and a whole passel of out of town guests coming in! That's how the dog ended up purple. Confused yet? Keep reading.....

Because of my injury, I enlisted the help of the teenagers in the house. Now before you are all impressed by their generous offer of service, it came at a price. No, literally, a price. It cost me a fortune to pay them to help me! So that's how I ended up balanced on one foot on a ladder painting the upstairs hall bathroom while Surfer Boy's girlfriend, hereby referred to as Chinadoll because she looks like one, painted the down stairs bath a beautiful shade of lilac purple. As I was teetering up on this ladder I caught Monkey Boy out of the corner of my eye slip past the bathroom door in a rather suspicious manner. I ~~jumped gracefully down~~ scrambled like a spider monkey down the ladder and caught him right as he was heading towards my bathroom. "What's up?" I asked. I did not expect his answer. "Well," he said, "your dog is purple". Not something you hear every day. I have to admit that statement caught me a little off guard. He turned around, holding my pretty little, pure white, bichon puppy straight out in front of him so I could see her entire side now matched the walls in the downstairs bath! It seems a little goofing off happened and she was caught in the cross fire. She looked like a punk rock pup. All she was missing was a spiked collar and a few piercings!

We survived the home makeover, J returned, bringing his parents with him, the party went off with only several major, but survivable problems and, this morning, Surfer Boy and Chinadoll became graduates! Now comes the fun part!

Surfer is feeling a little at loose ends. Suddenly, he is no longer what he has been for the vast majority of his life; a student. Sure, there are bigger and better things coming, but right now, he finds himself in the hallway on the way to the next open door. It's a position that we can find a little overwhelming.

I have been in that place before, and I would bet that most of you have too. You know it, that time when you know the Lord is moving out from something, but you're not quite sure what He's moving you into. It's easy to be overwhelmed by frustration or anxiety. It's normal to try to hang on to what we've known before, what we've trusted, what's comfortable. But if we do that, we will never be able to move into what the Lord has for us. Sure, we could sit down on the floor and refuse to move another foot. We could hang on to the door frame in fear that the Holy Spirit is going to bodily move us from one place to another. In most cases, it ain't gonna happen. The Lord is a gentleman and he waits. He waits for us to decide we want to move, he waits for us to get tired of sitting in the floor and get up and start walking again. Sure, it can be scary, it can be overwhelming, it can be downright terrifying. But it can also be exciting, rewarding and exhilarating!

My question to you this week, dear readers, is this; How will you handle your hallways? Will you see them as a place of transition or will you use them as real estate on which to build a summer home and stay a while? Lets move! Lets step out in faith and run down the hallway after him!

This week, while I'm in my hallway, I'm going to challenge myself to keep moving forward, to not look back to where I was, but look with expectation to where he is taking me. I would encourage you to do the same.

Meanwhile, I'll be here, rocking these crutches and using them to try to corral a purple pooch. Till next time, I'm....

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Why I Now Prefer Bacon

2013-05-18T17:04:00.001-07:00

(the guilty one)

It's raining. It's a rainy Saturday afternoon and I am not napping. Instead, I am sitting in my (newly painted and, might I say, beautiful!) office. Why, you ask? Have you ever been so filled up, that if you didn't let something out, you were going to bust a gut? (It's a southern saying, let your imagination work on it) That pretty much describes me this afternoon.

It was the weekend of our annual women's/teen girl's conference at church and, as always, Pastor Laura puts on a heck of shindig!

I arrived at the church Friday afternoon along with about 40 other women. I stopped off at the registration desk to pick up all the swag the ladies had been so cool to fix up for me. There was the obligatory note pad and pen (presumably so we could jot down all the cool stuff we heard), a schedule of events (so we could be sure we were always in the right place at the right time), a few peppermints (so those praying for us would not be slain in the spirit by all the coffee breath), and a pink t-shirt. In my case, a large, pink t-shirt.

The first session was entitled "Hot and Holy Matrimony". I went in, found a seat and sat like a baby bird with my mouth open to the ceiling waiting to be fed. Those who know me have seen me sit like that before, but usually around the buffet table, but that is a different blog all together. I had never heard our speaker, Deanna Shroder, but when she walked up in a leopard print jacket, skinny jeans and stilettos, I developed an instant girl crush! I can no longer wear shoes like that. As I aged and gave birth to so many ~~maniacal, insanity producing offspring~~ beautiful little boys, I found my chest never returned to it's pre-pregnancy size. Now if I try to wear those heels, I tip forward just enough that the extra weight of "the girls" causes me to fall right on my face. Face down is not really a good look for me, although from the ankle down, I look fabulous! But I digress.......

I have never thought of myself as a prude, I'm not one to giggle over the anatomically correct names for body parts or blush when my pastor's wife mentioned "divine fellowship" in our marriage sermon. All of that flies out the window, however, when you bring in the "O" word. I realize this was a group of married (mostly) women, sitting in a women's conference, listening to a teaching entitled "HOT and holy matrimony". All that aside, I don't know that I will ever reach the point where I can hear that word, that many times, IN THE CHURCH. I felt a little like I did in 6th grade when I decided I was grown up enough to use the "F" word. It came out of my mouth one time. The coolness factor is greatly reduced when you then turn and look around to be sure your mom didn't hear you! That's kind of the way it was during this teaching. I kept expecting to hear my mother calling out to me from the sound booth upstairs and I was sure she would be using my full name like she did the time she caught me shutting my little brother up in the dryer. But, again, I digress......

We had a couple of really great sessions yesterday afternoon and a wonderfully anointed service last night. I went home tired, but excited for what the Lord had in store for the next day.

This morning, I got up to a quiet house. Everyone else was still sleeping and the house had that peaceful, all is right with the world, feeling. I had laid my clothes out the night before. We were all supposed to wear our pink t-shirts so I pulled out my fairly new mint green jeans and pink tennis shoes to complete my oh so fashionable outfit. I guess I spent a little too much time enjoying my cup of coffee and facebook because I suddenly realized I was running out of time and would have to put a move on! I was glad I had laid everything out the night before. I rushed through my make-up, argued with my hair a little and then grabbed my clothes. I don't know why I bought mint green jeans. After the 80's I said I would never buy colored denim again. I had a sudden desire for big hair and leg warmers. They always said the higher your hair, the closer to Jesus, but another blog, again. With not much time to spare, I slipped my t-shirt on, or I should I say I attempted to slip my t-shirt on. You see, when I filled out my initial registration paperwork I was going to request a certain size shirt. (no, I will not tell you what size I wear! I can't believe you would even ask!) The person working the registration table (the one that was once a friend of mine!) said "oh no! you don't need that size! You need the size below that!" I tried to tell her she was wrong, but she just kept on and on and on and eventually, my vanity overtook my common sense and I ordered the size she told me to. That's how I found myself with only minutes to spare and a shirt whose arms fit more like gloves than sleeves. I looked like a large, pink sausage. I have had more attractive moments in my life. This was not, however, my first morning being fat. I knew what to do. I started pulling and tugging and stretching that shirt. J wasn't quite sure what to think about the noises flowing from behind the bathroom door. He wasn't sure if I was getting dressed or passing a kidney stone!

I did eventually get that shirt to the point where could wear it, of course, it now has no seams in the arms, but I can wear it without scaring any small children I might meet. Today's conference was wonderful. The Lord moved and I was blessed to spend time with his children in his presence. But here's the deal - I almost missed it. When I was staring in my early morning mirror at a large hunk of pink breakfast meat, I very nearly gave up and went back to bed. I certainly did not want to be the only one not wearing pink. I knew that room was going to look like the energizer bunny had given birth to a multitude of pink offspring, who then congregated all in one room and I didn't want to be the one who stood out, not that I have to be miss-dressed to stand out!

I could have let that little shirt mishap, and I do mean little, keep me from my blessing. I could have climbed right back into my comfy bed. I could have been satisfied to have a cool new pink cleaning rag and a few extra hours of sleep. I could have, but I chose not to. How many times have we allowed a speed bump to take on the proportions of mountain in our lives? Why do we allow a pebble to derail our locomotive? a single raindrop ruin our parade, a tiny tap pop our balloon, a, a, a,.... okay, I'm out of metophores! But you get the picture! It's time to become women of resolve! It's time to set our face to the prize and let nothing stop us from gaining entrance into his presence. Let us not be turned away from anything the Lord has for us by anything the enemy can throw at us. It's happens every day. Are you surprised when you sit down with the word and the phone rings, or the baby wakes up or someone knocks on the door, or you have to go pull your 3 yr old off the top of a 30 foot windmill? Oh! does that last one only happen to me? sorry! that's a story for a different time! My point is, we have a foe, a defeated foe, but a foe nonetheless. Why are we then surprised when he comes against us in any way? It's time to rise up, ladies.

My challenge to you this week is to be aware of the little things the enemy uses to try to dissuade us from pressing into all the Lord has for us. I'm as guilty as the next one, but this morning, the Lord called me on it. He didn't allow me to take my pink pork belly back to bed and, I have to say, I am so glad that he didn't because I would have missed out on an opportunity to learn something new about Him. Isn't that what it's all about anyway - not just learning about him, but also, learning him?

So forge ahead! Rise up! Sally forth! Put the pedal to the metal! Haul buns!..........uhmmm.... okay, that's all I've got, but you get the message. Meanwhile, I'll be here, peeling off this shirt and discovering a new appreciation for the people who stuff the sausage. Tomorrow morning I think I'll stick with bacon. I'm just saying, painful memories and all....... till then, I'm

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Don't live in a cardboard box if your neighbor is a cat

2013-05-16T10:38:00.001-07:00

This morning we almost had a lesson on the circle of life at our house. We saw new life, almost saw death and heard a lot of screaming in the process. I guess I should be more clear, huh?

A few weeks back a pair of little sparrows decided to set up housekeeping in our garage. To make matters worse, they fell in love with a little one bedroom cardboard box that sits right outside the door that goes into the house. It's a lovely little starter home, but the heavy traffic makes it a less than ideal location. Nevertheless, it was in their price range so they bought it and moved right in. It wasn't long before there were, not one, but two little eggs in the nest in the cardboard box. The other drawback to their urban location was the fact that every night the garage door closed, and if they weren't careful, this would leave their little eggs unprotected and unwarmed all night long.

It was bound to happen, and one night, it finally did. The garage door closed with neither little bird home to sit the nest. I was sure the eggs would never survive. Still, mama was tenacious and continued to warm what I thought were eggs now suitable only for a very small omelet.

After all of these tragic happenings, imagine my surprise this morning when we discovered a tiny little naked, nasty looking (just being honest here!) alien type thing emerging from one of the eggs! Actually, J is the one who discovered it. He had left the door to the garage open as he was calling to me to come see it. As I walked towards the door a little brown blur flew past me at the speed of sound, or so. Mama bird had seen the open door, thought J was a threat and had tried to escape- by flying into my house!

We all calmly set into motion, a carefully constructed plan to throw a blanket over her and take her back outside when the unthinkable happened. Koko, the wonder cat, chose that moment to wander downstairs. It didn't take long for him to, in an amazingly ninja cat like movement catch mama bird for us. Unfortunately, he used his mouth to do it! That's when things became really interesting, interesting and loud, and also pretty crazy.

As Koko tried to run from the room with his prize, Mumbles was laughing, as loudly as only a teenage boy can. J was yelling at the top of his very impressively developed voice, as only an irate dad of teenage boys can, and I was running around trying to figure out what in the world was going on! Koko, meanwhile, decided that being chased by a family of crazy people while trying to hold on to a crazed, flapping ball of feathers, was not actually his cup of tea. Who knew?! Thankfully, Koko let her go.

We still haven't figured out what happened next. Mama bird vanished, simply disappeared. We searched high and low with no luck. I was sure she has rolled away somewhere to gasp her last breath through her trembling little beak, never to see the ugly little face of her newly hatched baby. After searching forever, we gave up hoping she had managed to escape through the door we had left open. About an hour later, however, I heard a strange noise from upstairs. It was the sound of a tiny, but frantic battle ensuing. Mama bird had, somehow, found her way upstairs to Mumbles room and was now being pursued by Yum-Yum, the less than ninja like cat. Fortunately, Yum-Yum, while gorgeous, is old, cross-eyed and the most exercise he gets in a day is when he is forced to leave Mumble's room and amble down the hall to his food dish. It wasn't very likely he was actually going to catch little mama but when, in her panic, she allowed herself to be cornered, I thought for sure it was all over. I scooped him up, or at least as much as you can scoop a very large, very excited lump of fur and banished him from the room. I then opened all the windows that didn't have screens in his room, went out and shut the door and hoped for the best.

I don't know if mama made it out or not. I can't find her and she hasn't turned back up in the garage that I have seen. I thought about putting out an APB on her or filing a missing birdy report, but I doubt the effectiveness of either of these measures. So now, I'll just wait and pray, and hope mama comes home to her new babies. It's harder than heck to find foster homes for the little suckers!

Now comes the other part of the story. If you have ever read anything I've ever written, you knew to expect there was one! lol

This is the deal, mama bird was in no danger from J, the danger was only her perception. She panicked and flew the wrong way and got herself into a world of hurt. How many times have we been guilty of the same reaction? I know there have been times when the enemy has been close enough to say "boo" and I reacted the same way. I went tearing off in fear, not stopping to think or really examine the situation. If I had, I would have been reminded by the Holy Spirit that I had nothing to fear from the enemy of my soul. He is an already vanquished foe, but you'd never know it by the way I tucked tail and ran!

We could all learn a lesson from little mama bird. She let fear take hold and she flew right into danger. When faced with, what seems like a terrifyingly dangerous situation, let's take the time to check in with the Holy Spirit before running headlong into something much worse. I don't blame mama, she reacted by instinct, but what are the instincts we are living by? Do we panic or do we trust? Do we let fear overtake our hearts or do we run, not blindly in terror, but into the strong tower of the Lord? Proverbs 18:10 tell us,

"The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run in to it and are safe".

As children of the Lord, we are called his righteousness so that means us! We have a place to run when faced with the scary, sometimes dangerous things life can throw at us. The word tells us in 1 Peter 4:12-13

" Beloved, do not think it strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened to you; but rejoice to the extent that you partake of Christ's suffering, that when His glory is revealed, you may also be glad with exceeding joy."

So you can see there will be times in life when we will need that strong tower to run into. When those times hit, I pray there will be no wild rush to try to secure our own safety, but a quiet assurance that he has our back, he is our protector and our refuge and there's no need to panic. That's a truth we will all do well to learn. That is my challenge to both you and to myself this week. We all know the Lord "has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and love and a sound mind". Despite, what you may have heard being reported in the liberal media lately, I do, indeed, have a sound mind. I'm just not sure where it went, but wherever it is, I can assure you, it is sound. So, dear readers, when faced with fear, run! but be sure you're running to Him and not just plain running.

Meanwhile, I'll be here, sweeping up feathers, putting the cats in time out and knitting tiny little baby bird booties. I think mama might be registered at Birds R Us, but I'll check with her and let you all. Till next time, I am......

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

UPDATE: Mama is back on her nest and she and both babies are doing just fine! I guess it's true, His eye really is on the sparrow!

Hyper Dogs and Closed Doors

2013-05-13T12:08:00.001-07:00

This past week was a crazy busy week here. We had something going on every single day. I took advantage of mother’s day, yesterday, to finally get my office painted. It is a project that I have been wanting to do for a while, but just never seemed to have the time to get it done. The good thing about waiting till mother’s day, was the men folk in the house felt a little obligated to help me out! Once J taped everything off, the painting part was a breeze and I finished it in no time! So now I’m working in an office that is finally starting to look like an adult works here instead of Sanfred and Sons! Now if I can just convince Bella that is not her potty!

That reminds me of another little critter I made friends with when I was up in Boone recently. You may recall the post I wrote about mountain Bella. She is happily married to another little black and white rescue dog by the name of Joshiah, Joe for short. Joe is an interesting little dog. To say that he is energetic, would be like saying a southern preacher might be fond of friend chicken. At first I thought "I wish I had a third of his energy", but then I decided my body would self-destruct! He had an adorable habit that I really wish I had been able to catch on video to share with you all. You see, Joe is a jumper.

There were times when Joe’s mama would put him and mountain Bella out to, well, you know, do their little doggie business, or just to get them out from under her feet for a bit. The large, beautiful front doors on the retreat house were two thirds glass and looked out over a gorgeous view. Imagine my surprise one day when, as I was gazing out these doors, there was suddenly a little furry canine face just about even with mine. But wait, was there? As quick as it registered what it was, it was gone again. I only had to wait a moment before my suspicions were confirmed by the appearance of the same furry face. This was repeated over and over again, much to my delight! I walked over to the door and looked out to find Joe jumping up to look into the door. He was, it seems, more than ready to come back inside and did not understand the delay. Mountain Bella, meanwhile, was sitting calmly watching him expend all this energy. I think Joe would have jumped for hours and Bella would have been content to watch him! Now, eventually, their mama came out of the office, opened the door, and let them both back inside. It was a scene I would see repeated many times in my week on the mountain.

Now, my faithful readers, you know there is always more to the story, and this time is no different. You see, J and I find ourselves in a time of waiting on God to open doors in our life. Just like those two little hairy kiddos, I am waiting for things to swing open so I can walk on into the next stage in my life. The question is; while we are waiting on the front porch, will we be waiting calmly, trusting the Lord to open the door at the right time or will we be like little Joe and spend our time jumping, trying to get a peek at what’s on the other side of the door or convince the Lord that NOW would be a good time to open it?

One thing I have found out about the Lord, he moves in his own time. I think we have all heard the phrase, “God is never late, but he is seldom early”. I have found this to be so true. His timing is always perfect. He will open the door when he is ready to open the door and no amount of jumping up and down on our part is going to sway him one little bit. He loves us too much to allow our impatience to effect his plan for our lives.

This week, I would challenge you to take a seat, pull up a chair, find a place to light, calm down, relax, take a breather, peace out, just chill! Try exercising your faith a bit, instead of your hind legs, or uuumm, your jumping muscles or something like that. I plan on making it my goal to be more like mountain Bella and sit quietly and trustingly by the door till my father deems it time for it to be opened. Beside, I’m getting way too old to jump that high and if I get my hind end up enough to peek in the window, the coming down part is not going to end well.

So, dear readers, go forth and um, well, sit!

Meanwhile, I’ll be here, chilling out, maxing, relaxing all cool and all shooting some b-ball outside of the school…. Oh wait, that’s a different post………. (10 points for anyone who can tell me what that’s from!! Lol) The point is trust, and be patience, and maybe relax a little, and if you happen to find your way to a comfy chair, in a shady spot, with a little sweet tea in your hand, I'm not one to judge! Till next time I'm...........

Soaked in His blessings,

Spokenfor

Yappy Cotton Balls and Great Big Sucking Machines

2013-05-07T08:47:00.000-07:00

Hey everybody! Guess where I am!!

How many of you shook your head and said "Starbucks"? Be honest! Well, as usual, you would be right. Once again I have come to the mountain of the caffeine gods to spill the inane ramblings I am forced to endure inside my own brain. I figure, if I have to put up with them, then so do you.

Actually, this is the first time in a couple of days since I have found myself nestled into my familiar chair at my usual table in, what everyone should recognize, is my office. I simply allow all these other people access. Now, it is true that I was here yesterday, but there was no where to sit so I took my coffee and retreated to the sanctity of my home office. While just as familiar, I find I am not near as productive.

I did managed to accomplish something at home that I couldn't do here in my mobile office; I cleaned the living room and vacuumed it. My long time readers know of the small, furry child I share my home with. She has a tendency to make a bit of a mess. So I cleaned up all the rawhide bones, all the small squeaky toys and other canine paraphernalia and found a rug underneath. Who knew?! What I also found most entertaining was Bella's reaction to the vacuum cleaner. It seems in dog world anything that makes that much noise and sucks stuff up can only be terribly dangerous and as such, must be viciously attacked at every opportunity. Really, when you think of it from her point of view, it is much, much larger than her, it does make an awful lot of noise, and it does make a lot of stuff she considers her to disappear. I tried to make her understand there was no reason to keep the scraps of paper, pine cones and bits of pop tart wrapper that she had collected, but she failed to see the validity of my arguments. It was pretty disturbing to her, as you can see by the video that I have, hopefully, successfully attached to the top of this post.

Once again, dear reader, my brain went sideways with this whole incident. I had to think, how many times have I been just like my four-footed cotton ball? How many times have I taken one look at something the Lord has brought into my life to clean it up and set it right, and attacked? I know there have been times when he has brought his spiritual vacuum into my heart and life to suck up all the random, unnecessary things I have picked up on my way through life and I have fought him tooth and nail. I just can't seem to make him understand how much I need that little bit of judgement, or the entertainment that moment of gossip brings me or just how good it feels to indulge in just a tiny amount of bitterness, or, my favorite, attend that pity party that I spent all that money on having catered and everything!

The whole time, he is only doing what is best for me. I couldn't leave that mess on the floor. It, actually, was dangerous for Bella to be chewing on the random bits of refuse dropped by my kids as they scampered around the house. (ok, I admit, the little one is really the only one who scampers, the teenagers really slump more, or even stomp, occasionally there is breezing in and out involved, but really, no scampering) I vacuumed up things that were choking hazards and some that could have made her sick. I tried to explain it to her, but since I don't speak dog, all she heard was "blah, blah, toy, blah, blah, outside, blah, blah, bad dog, blah, blah". You get the picture. I'm sure she wishes I would study harder to learn her language! Meanwhile, I'm just wishing she would learn to hit the pee pad!

The Lord is guilty of doing no less. How many times have we prayed to be closer to him, to be more aware of his presence, to walk/live in communion with him? I cannot number the prayers I have prayed for him to make me the person he already sees me to be. Then, when he comes and, with him, his light, things are exposed that once happily hid in the darkness. I have to tell you, my living room floor looked pretty darn good with the lights out. It was only when the morning came and the light streamed, in that I could see what needed to be cleaned out. So it is with the Holy Spirit. He comes, he brings his light, and, BINGO! It's time to vacuum!

My challenge to you this week, faithful readers, is to not emulate my favorite wet-nosed girlfriend. (no, I'm not talking about you, M, I'm referring to the dog!) When the Lord comes to help us clear away the safety hazards in our life, let's not attack the tool he uses. It wasn't the vacuum's fault, it was the operator! It's not the fault of the tool the Lord uses, be it a situation, or a person. The Lord is using it to help us see ourselves as he already sees us; pure, holy, without spot, blemish, or pop tart wrapper.

So relax, chill, hop up on the couch and let him work, or you may find yourself shut up in your kennel just like Bella did, without so much as a squeaky toy to keep you company!

Meanwhile, I'll be here, working on my second language and cleaning up after a very ungrateful puppy. It's a good thing she's cuter than most of my kids or she would have been made into a purse by now, well, that I can lock her up in her kennel. People get a little ticky if you do that with one of your kids. Don't ask how I know that, just trust me! Till next time, I'll continue to be....

Soaked in His blessings,

Spokenfor

Carb Loading Canines and the People Who Love Them

2013-04-29T07:33:00.000-07:00

It's a rainy Monday as I sit here in my office (my local Starbucks, don't judge! lol). I find I need the caffeine to jump start my day today. Of course, the accompanying piece of cinnamon coffee cake only turbo charges the affect of the latte'. I'm sure it's been scientifically proven, somewhere.

Anyway, It's been a busy week and I find I am still trying to get everything back to normal after my week away in the mountains. There are still clothes to be put away and floors to be cleaned. It seems time just slips away so quickly these days. I'm sure you Moms out there know what I'm talking about. I have had some time to reflect on what I learned and what I went through during my timely escape. I have some fond memories. One such memory surrounds a small dog that became a fast friend.

A little rescue dog of questionable lineage, I found a soul sister in this small black and white four footed scoundrel. Interestingly enough, her name was Bella, which some of you know, is the name of my little doggie cotton ball. It seems that mountain Bella has a remarkable addiction to all things bread.

I had a lovely room, a suite really. My bedroom had a glass door the led out onto a private deck that over looked the valley below. It was a beautiful place where I spent every lunch time, even in the rain. I was on the main floor so it was possible to go from my little deck around to the front porch. That was the route the little thief took.

After packing up my things on that last day, I left them in my room, stacked by the back door, and went for a final get together in the commons area, where we had prayer and communion. As I left the room, I realized that I had left the screen door open going out onto the deck. I didn't want my room to fill up with bugs, even if I was about to leave, so I went back and shut it. I had no idea it would not be any protection to a much larger "bug".

Imagine my surprise, when I returned to my room a hour or so later to find the screen door open. What?! I know I closed that door! It seems that my favorite little four legged friend had smelled the loaf of bread I had left laying on the top of my bag of groceries to go home with me and had been unable to resist. I saw the empty plastic bag laying forlornly in the rain on the sidewalk below my deck. You must remember the suspect in question is only about 18 inches tall and, while now somewhat heavier due to carb loading, is not really a very big canine. Despite that fact, Bella had consumed an entire loaf of bread all by herself. So great had been her drive to procure the luscious starchy goodness she had managed to nose the screen door open to gain access to her prize. I am just thankful that she ran with her loot outside and did not make a mess on the floor in my room! Of course, not a crumb escaped her adorable little snout so I doubt there would have been much of a mess anyway! I had to tip my proverbial hat to my favorite little sneaky Houdini of the dog world. She would let nothing stand in her way.

Those of you who are frequent visitors to the insanity of my mind know that I cannot leave it at that. There is a parallel, of course, that jumps out to my.......uhhh... different sort of brain. Be patient with me, I'm going somewhere. I find that I immediately think of one verse,

John 6:35Then Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.

See? Did you see that? Jesus calls himself the bread of life. We are told in the book of John, many times, that he is the bread of life and whomever eats of him shall never be hungry, in fact, shall never die. The question I have for you today, my dear readers, is how desperate are you for this bread of life? What obstacles are you willing to overcome in your search for your daily bread? My little friend, Bella, fought her way through whatever stood in her way in her desire to munch. Of course, we're not talking about a loaf of yummy, sticky, carb-laden, nutrient lacking, white bread. We are talking about the bread that brings, not pounds to our hips, but life to our souls. What steps are you willing to take? What doors are you willing to go through?

So this week, I would urge you to not sit back and be content with last week's moldy crusts. No! Go get some fresh bread, go looking for a fresh word from the Lord. He tells us he would never give his children a stone when they ask for bread. He is waiting for us to simply ask, no need to fight your way through any screen doors, just ask.

Meanwhile, I'll be here, watching the rain, in my office, dreaming of the mountains and of a certain four-legged, bread loving, sweet-eyed terrier. Oh, and I'm also in the market for a sturdy, portable bread box for my planned return trip to the mountains. I'm just saying, she's cute and all but........

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Winding Roads and Mirrors in Strange Places

2013-04-20T18:34:00.004-07:00

I am continually amazed at the goodness of the Lord to me. As of a week ago, I was merrily going about my normal life, not even realizing that Boone, North Carolina existed. Okay, that’s only marginally true. I was well aware that there was a city, in the western mountains of North Carolina called Boone that was reported to be beautiful. I had never been there and didn’t have any expectations of going any time soon. It was not, you might say, on my radar. The Lord saw fit to change that quickly and in a rather original way.

It all started innocently enough. A friend mentioned there was a great retreat center up in the mountains and I should look into going up there for a much needed break. Before I knew what had happened I was on my way westward. There were phone calls and paperwork and all kinds of preparations, as well as a scholarship thrown in there. There were plans for kids and pets and work stuff, and it all fell right into place as only the Lord can do it.

This place that I find myself is breathtaking in more than one way. Let me explain……

After a tedious drive over from Raleigh, I realized I was finally within 10 miles of His High Places. I thought the worst was behind me. I had no idea what lay ahead of me. As I reached the gates that led into the community, I was stunned by the beauty of this place. Large iron gates swung open smoothly with the entry of the code I was given. I drove slowly through, onto a road that, I can only describe as, winding. Actually, winding doesn’t begin to describe it. This road looked like the strange doodlings of a sugar crazed preschooler! There were more twists and turns than the drama at a middle school dance. There were tiny bridges, little tunnels, brooks that were babbling, and drivers gawking, and that was just in the first couple of miles. After that, things turned serious.

As I started to ascend the mountain ~~of the Lord~~ to the retreat house, the road quickly became more narrow and, if possible, more winding. I decided very quickly that it had been designed by a tiny little man, in a tiny little car, a car with wings, so when it fell off the side of this mountain, it could just circle back and try it again. Suddenly, my mini-van seemed like a big rig of mighty proportions. I crept along at about 10 mph, seemingly only inches from a five thousand foot drop off. Now, my dear readers, you all know that I never, ever, ever exaggerate so you can be assured that every word of this narrative is correct and accurate! Every time I was sure I was up just as high as I could possibly go, the road turned and I rose even higher. At one point, I came around a sharp curve only to find another sharp curve the opposite direction lay in front of me. Then I saw them. There were mirror on metal poles all along the curve. Mirrors! You know the kind I’m talking about, don’t you? Stores put them in blind corners so the staff can watch for shop lifters. Those kind of mirrors! Now that is just what I needed! A curve so sharp, on a road so tiny, dug out of the side of a mountain so high up, that to drive it safely, I needed to check the mirrors to make sure I didn’t hit an old man winding his way down on the back of a small burro. I was sure that I had accidently stumbled onto a long forgotten game trail and not actually a real road, or maybe it was one of the old mountain passes that I read about in the Little House on the Prairie books. You know, the ones the settlers used to get over the mountains in the covered wagons? Yeah, it was that kind of road.

After what seemed like hours of heart pounding, nerve wracking, sweat producing, teeth clenching travel, I rounded a little curve and my mouth fell open. In front of me was a house unlike any I had ever seen before. A beautiful two-story home stood before me like a graceful southern debutante. Double balconies bedecked her like strings of elegant pearls draping the ball gown of a woman from a time long passed. If this was a young lady in her dancing finery, however, her ball room floor would be decidedly too small for dancing. Almost as if balanced on the head of a pin this magnificent structure rested on a piece of ground that was, in some places, barely 10 feel wider than the boundaries of the porches that surrounded it. It was as if the lot had been carved from the side of the mountain. The results were that, when viewed from some windows, it seemed as if you were suspended above the valley below. The effect was breathtaking.

What followed was a week of intense joy and intensely hard work as I wadded through all the Lord had for me. I made friends that I can’t imagine ever losing touch with and learned things about myself and my God that I will never forget. You can’t go wrong with a place that assigns movies like “Seabiscuit” and “The Kid” and can then draw important spiritual parallels from them the next day.

One thing I learned is the importance of taking time out of everyday life to reconnect with the Lord. It’s an easy thing to do, to become so caught up in the dishes that need to be washed and the laundry calling out your name and the dinner that has to be cooked and the kids that need to ~~be beaten~~ picked up. Most days are full of house work and child rearing, homework and cooking, walking the dog, running errands, slopping the hogs and plucking the chickens. Okay, I’ll give you that one slight exaggeration, my hogs slop themselves. That’s how I raised them.

The point I’m trying to make is, I have often times felt guilty taking time out for myself and I don’t think I am alone. As moms and wives, we women have a tendency to put everyone else in front of us. It’s easy to ignore our own needs until, like a bad tooth finally gone too far, we can no longer ignore them. I would love for all of my friends to have the chance to experience a week like I did, but I know that not everyone will be as fortunate. I think the important thing is, that we learn to recognize when we are reaching the point of no return, you know, that point when we are one sibling battle, one spilled drink at dinner, one cranky teenager, one sour load of laundry away from a meltdown of epic proportions, and we do something about it. It may be something as simple as dinner out with some girlfriends, a movie all alone on a Saturday afternoon, or a couple of hours with a good book and a cup from Starbucks, is all that we need to help us to refocus and regroup.

The word tells us Christ came to give us life and life more abundantly. This is not just eternal life, but life here as well. Why would he want his children to go around sour faced and whiny? Yeah, not really the best advertisement for becoming one of his; “Come to God and become ill tempered, cranky, unreasonable, full of self-pity, hanging on to your sanity by your fingertips, and otherwise, all around a joy to be with!” So let’s do ourselves a favor and remember, when we are caring for everyone else around us, don’t forget ourselves. We need a little love too, and if your life is anything like mine, there’s not a lot coming from the offspring of teenage years.

So I challenge you this week to take a little time for yourself, even if it’s something as simple as a bubble bath and your favorite soda. It’s not a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of intelligence. So go be smart! I’ll be here trying to catch up on all the laundry that I missed doing in the week I was gone. By the time I get things back to normal I may need to head up that mountain again!

Pill pushers and forgotten 8 yr olds

2013-02-11T14:53:00.003-08:00

It was a busy holiday season this year. I have had some health issues and, I must admit, have used that as an excuse for not getting all my holiday decorations put away. At least J took the outside lights down so I escaped the neighbors realizing just what rednecks we really are.
I recently spent about 4 days in the hospital again. It seems when your iron level drops to 6 you feel like crud and bad things start to happen. The thing is, I knew that's what it was because that's what my hematologist told me! (hereafter said hematologist will be referred to as the hemo doc, it's just easier that way! ) When I got to the ER I tried to tell the docs this, but, as usual, they knew so much more than me that they promptly ignored every thing I said and tried to make it about a number of other things. After days of tests and heart monitors and brain scans (hey! no jokes here!) I actually had a doctor call for a psych evaluation. Those of you who know me irl know just how hilarious that is all by itself. Let me set the stage.........

It's Friday afternoon and I am laying in a hospital bed bored out of my skull because they won't let me get up by myself, there's nothing good on tv and they won't give me drugs because I actually don't need any. J has returned to work for an important meeting and I am trusting in my ever reliable 16 yr old son to pick up his 8 yr old brother from school. Imagine my horror when, 30 minutes after school gets out I get a call from the elementary school. They are wondering if anyone is going to pick up Scamp today. After several deep breaths and a quickly mumbled prayer for sanity I start making phone calls. The first one is the 16 yr old, then the 17 yr old, then the 15 yr old, then the girlfriends, then all the friends I can think of and no one, and I mean no one is answering their phones. Even J is in the wind. So now I'm starting to panic. I am imagining the DCFS people hauling little scamp away as tears stream down his face and his little blonde curls tremble in time to his sobs. Finally, the 15 yr old answers the phone! He's obviously been asleep. Right as he sleepily says "hello", my hospital room door opens and in walks the psych lady. She is coming to assess whether or not I need anti-anxiety or mood enhancing drugs. As she enters, she is met with a near hysterical mother trying to get my 15 yr old to wake up enough to realize the gravity of the situation. Everyone has forgotten the 8 yr old and abandoned him at school! I'm trying to break through his sleep induced fog to make him understand what is going on. Meanwhile, she is standing by my bed literally tapping her foot and giving me the heavy sigh as she listens to the conversation. After about 20 seconds, she says "Ma'am! I need to speak with you" I thought, really?! Really?! You're gonna go there?!

After raising my voice ( I was NOT yelling!) at my son to find someone to pick up his little brother because his other brother had forgotten him while their mother was in the hospital, I calmly looked at her and explained why I did not need her meds. I explained that I am not stressed, I am not having anxiety attacks, I always look like this and sound like this and my eyes are always this crazy looking and yes, actually, I do usually foam at the mouth. I'm not so sure she bought it.

Eventually, things calmed down, Scamp was retrieved and taken home. Later, as I listened to the comforting sounds of the blood pressure machine, the IV pump and the clank of empty jello bowls, I reflected back on my day. If there is a lesson to be taken away from all of this, it's this; things are not always as they seem in the lives of others. I'm sure that psych lady walked out of my room shaking her head at the sad, old woman in room 127 who was living in denial about her current mental health.

In fact, I know that I have something better than her meds for dealing with the stress of raising so many boys. The word tells me the joy of the Lord is my strength, strength for dealing with health issues, sleeping and forgetful teenagers, abandoned 8 yr olds and well meaning, pill pushing psychiatrists! That's the key, find the joy. The Lord has given us a remarkable ability to laugh and it's so important to utilize that ability when dealing with the struggles and trials that come with every day life. I can't say I was laughing when that doc walked in the room and I was fussing and fuming at my kids and worrying about their safety and trying to figure out where to hide the bodies, but, later I had to laugh, later, when it was all over.

My challenge to you today is to laugh. Find something that brings you joy and take time to enjoy it. Read a funny story, watch a funny show, spend time with a funny friend. Whatever it takes, laugh! I think the Lord enjoys setting me up in wacky situations to make me laugh! Meanwhile, we'll be here watching Scamp's new favorite movie. Maybe you've heard of it; The Forgotten.

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

This is not a dinner theater

2012-10-20T11:44:00.002-07:00

I am currently reading a wonderful book. It’s called The Sacred Romance by John Eldredge. It’s not great surprise to anyone who knows me that I am reading a book. I love a good book and, since I was a kid, I have had a tendency to get lost in what I’m reading. When I start a book the kids all know what’s coming; sandwiches for dinner, no laundry done, don’t ask me to drive you anywhere and don’t talk so loud when you’re in the same room with me! I try not to read books that are too long as I don’t want to miss important childhood milestones like graduation and such. I’m doing pretty good with this one, limiting myself to about one chapter a week so I can really absorb what is being said. Recently, the book sparked a revelation for me and I’ve attempted to share it below. I hope you enjoy it and I hope it makes sense!! lol

We are all enmeshed in a cosmic drama, a divine romance. Life is not simply a series of actions and reactions, situations and experiences that we muddle through the best that we can till it is all over and we enter into our eternal reward. We have all heard the phrase “all the world is a stage” and, in a way, that is true. We are characters in a play written by the Lord of hosts. So many times we are guilty of seeing only our small part in this galactic production. Our focus becomes only our time on stage, our plot line, our lines to learn, when, in reality, we would do so much better to change our view.

This life of ours, is not, in fact, ours. God does not come down and invade our life and take part in it, He welcomes us into His life, to take part of it with Him. He did not simply author the play in which we act, then sit out in the audience to see play out. This is His story and we all have supporting roles in His production. Because of this fact, we would do well to remember just how intricately involved he is in every aspect of our existence. I have learned something over the last year or so. I don’t have to “be spiritual” to be spiritual. Was Christ less “Christly” when sitting around the fire eating and laughing with his disciples? The word tells us Jesus did only what His father did and said only what His father said. That tells me the father enjoys us, just as Christ enjoyed his disciples.

The challenge, the goal, is to find this relationship with Him in the every day, when there’s laundry to be done and dinner to be made, when the kids are fighting and you’re tired from working all day, or when you’re hanging out with friends being silly, watching cartoons with your kids, when you’re going to the fair or dinner out with a loved one. Those are all times when we are in relationship with him. He is there when we are “being spiritual” and when we are not and He loves us the same either way.

I guess my point would be that while there are times when we are lost in his presence, when words fail us and we are swept away by his love, he is just as close, just as real, working just as much when we’re in the grocery store looking for a can of stewed tomatoes, as in the times we count as spiritual. He brought this home to me recently in a very unexpected but welcomed way. I am His, He is mine and nothing can change or lessen that. I don’t have to conjure up something that appears spiritual, I am spiritual, inside and out, in whatever I do, at all times, good and bad. He is with me, in me. I only have to relax and let Him be who he is, to do otherwise is to bring in law and judgment and I really don’t want to go back there again!

So till next time, I'll be here, reading and not cooking or cleaning and trying to remind myself I am responsible for the care of all these younger people whose voices I can vaguely hear in the background saying something about food.

Soaked in His blessings,

Spokenfor