Weathered Grace

I Didn't Die!

2013-01-25T10:55:00.000-06:00

Sixteen days ago, I began this journey to get healthy. Getting healthy meant moving my body...well, moving it more than just to the refrigerator. So, starting slowly, I began doing a little bit at a time. I knew if i tried to do too much at once, I would get discouraged. I decided I was going to walk around my block. I had to stop four times before I made it back home.

In the past, my twisted ocd mind would tell me that if I couldn't do 30 minutes straight of walking or aerobics then I wasn't doing anything. This go round, however, I made up my mind that even if I was only moving for 5 minutes at a time, 5 minutes was better than I was doing before.

Then, several days ago, my dearest friend and motivator, Amy, talked me into walking with her. I'm just going to be completely honest, y'all. I cussed her the entire time. I seriously thought she was trying to kill me. The sad part is that we didn't even walk that far or long, but I really thought I was going to die. But I didn't quit...and the next day we did it again...and I didn't die. In fact, I kinda enjoyed it...kinda. When I got home that night, I walked again...and I didn't die. Not only did I not die, I made the whole block this time without stopping at all!!!

The next day, we walked to the bank...once again, not far, but I seriously considered sucking on their helium tank to get a boost of air, because I was so out of breath. I even jogged up a hill! Holy cow, y'all! Even a fat girl can run!

Ok...so now I'm thinking this whole walking thing isn't so bad after all. I even walked to my son's school yesterday to pick him up instead of driving...and I didn't die. I thought my kid would think I had lost my mind when he came out of school and saw that I was not in our jeep. But he was so excited to walk with me...and he didn't die either! We might have even climbed some walls and jumped a creek.

We even had a race to see who could make it to my office door first. Yep...that's right...I ran...and I didn't die. I wish I could have frozen in time the complete joy that I felt from running for the first time with my kid. Out of breath, red faced, and pouring sweat, I felt pure joy...not from eating...but from moving. So what did I do? I walked some more and some more and walked again when I got home. I walked to the gas station. I walked to the eye clinic. I walked to the grocery store. It's hard! But this morning when I woke up, I felt alive. I could feel muscles pulling and stretching and blood flowing.

I've lost 22 pounds so far. I'm taking pictures and can't believe the difference in my face and neck in only 16 days. My skin feels hydrated and looks healthy rather than blotchy and dry.

I am keeping a list of the things I want to do after losing weight...kinda a fat girl's bucket list, if you will. I have to see this list to keep me motivated.

The list of things I want to do after losing weight:

I want to cross my legs like a lady.
I want to go to the movies and fit in the seat comfortably.
I want to go swimming…in a bathing suit…not shorts and shirt.
I want to repel down the side of a cliff.
I want to swim at the beach…and not just sit in the sand fully clothed.
I want to not worry that I won’t fit in a chair when I go somewhere.
I want to take Connor to Disney World and be in shape enough to walk and walk and walk.
I want to be to small enough to be able to fit on the rides at Disney World or any other amusement park.
I want to be able to run.
I want to fit in the bathtub and take a long hot bath.
I want to run in a 5k.
I want to be able to comfortably hold Connor in my lap.
I want to walk into a department store and buy clothes for myself that fit.
I want to wear blue jeans.
I want to sit in the beautician’s chair without fear of breaking it or turning it over.
I want to rock in a rocking chair with arms.
I want to go to the waterpark with Connor and actually slide down the slides rather than sit in the shade while Connor plays by himself.
I want to fly on an airplane and actually fit in one seat.
I want to get up from sitting without having to rock back and forth several times to get enough momentum to get my fat butt out of the chair.
I want to go to people’s homes and not fear I am going to break their chair when I sit down.
I want to fit in the barstools at my grandmother’s breakfast bar.
I want to slide down the slide at my grandmother’s swimming pool.
I want to jump off of the diving board and not fear it is going to break.
I want to have a man send me flowers.
I want to date.
I want to dance.
I want to go roller skating.
I want to swing at the park.
I want to sit in my jeep without my stomach touching the steering wheel.
I want to ride in other people’s cars and not fear the sit belt won’t fit.
Complete the 1 mile fun run in April 2013 without needing medical attention or oxygen. ;)
I want to go horseback riding.
I want to take Connor white water rafting on the Ocoee River.
I want to wear a dress…not a moo moo, but a dress and pretty heels.
I want to go 4-wheeler riding.
I want to go zip lining.

I know this is only the beginning of a long journey. There are sure to be times when I get discouraged, but I have short term goals, and I know I can do it. My first goal was to lose 20 pounds. I did it! Now, I'm working on losing 40 by 40. I'll turn 40 on February 22nd, and I am working hard to lose 40 by then. I have committed to do a 1 mile fun run/walk on April 21st. I'm just going to keep walking and walking and walking and little by little, I'll get to where I'm going.

The Woman in the Wheelchair

2013-01-17T17:55:00.001-06:00

Last Monday, January 7th, I had to take Connor to the doctor. He slipped on my freshly mopped wood floors Sunday night chasing my dogs and pulled his groin muscle. On Monday morning, he couldn't walk.

While sitting in the waiting room at the doctor's office, I noticed a lady in a wheelchair. She was what would be described as morbidly obese. She turned at one point and looked at me. Her face was absolutely stunning. Without saying a word, we both smiled at one another. In that instant, I had a revelation. In just a matter of time, I would be her...I would be unable to walk...unable to breathe...unable to live freely the way I want to. I needed to see her that day. It was as though God revealed my future through her. I wish now I would have hugged her and told her that she was beautiful. We were both smiling on the outside, but dying on the inside.

Fat is hell. Plain and simple...it is hell. Regardless, of how you got that way, there is not a day that goes by that you don't wish your body was different. There is not a day that goes that you don't hate what you've done to yourself, but you still keep doing it. Why? Because food is good...really good! And eating it...lots of it...fills a part of you that is missing something. The satisfaction of the food, though, is only temporary. The guilt from having consumed so much, however, lasts far longer than the temporary goodness offered by mass quantities of unhealthy foods.

Ask any overweight person how to lose weight. They know how to do it. Most overweight people can tell you easily how to lose weight. The knowledge of knowing what to do comes easy. It's the decision to actually do what it takes...sacrifice...move your body...eat right...learn to love who you are on the inside...that makes the knowledge you hold turn into success on the scale.

So, here I am...10 days in...Here's what I'm doing. The first thing I did was download an app on my phone called "My Fitness Pal". A friend told me about it, and I LOVE it!!!! It keeps up with how many calories, fat grams, sodium, and carbs I need everyday. So for every morsel or liquid I consume, I put it in my phone. This alone, has made a HUGE difference for me. I am planning my day's food a day ahead and packing a bag to take with me to work. I am eating a large breakfast, a medium lunch, and a small dinner, and 3 snacks throughout the day. I am really enjoying the different foods and have really not craved or felt like I am missing out on anything.

Next, I started recording a show called "Christian Fitness". It ties in devotions along with a workout that is done to contemporary Christian music. I am not able to fully keep up with the instructor, but I am getting better everyday. When I have to take a break, I just keep moving something...an arm, a leg...just something. This is my least favorite part! I hate exercise! For real...I don't like it. But I won't quit! Instead of going home after work everyday, and sitting in my chair motionless in front of the tv, I plan out things I can do at home and make myself keep moving. Having a very active 9 year old boy helps immensely. He and I have been dancing and wrestling and just acting plain crazy...but I am moving and that's all that matters. While attempting to do the downward dog yoga position during the cool down part of the show, Connor yelled, "Mama, Who do you want me to call?" Perplexed, out of breath, and ready to pass out, I said, "What are you talking about?" His reply, "You're going to suffocate from your boobs covering your face and fall out. Who do you want me to call to get you off of the floor?" I love my kid! At least he's learning now to get healthy.

I have watched every weight loss transformation story on you tube there is out there. I needed the motivation and the great ideas. Technology is a wonderful tool for losing weight!

Planning for everything has been the key. I plan my meals and my activities. I can't let there be a single moment right now where I am not prepared. It is in those moments of indecisiveness that lead me to eat the wrong foods and way too much of it.

For example, last Saturday Connor wanted a bacon cheeseburger and tater tots from Sonic. I knew watching him eat and smelling that food would send me into orbit. So, I ordered a bag of apple slices and diet limeade for myself. Amazingly, I was content. However, when he was done eating, he still had a quarter of his burger left and 6 tater tots. I knew ahead he would have left overs because he always does. Ten days ago, I would have eaten them, because I always ate his left overs whether I was hungry or not. But this time, I opened up the sunroof and told him to throw the leftover food out for the raccoons to eat...not the paper...just the food. Do you know what? I didn't even turn the car around to go back and get it. Ha Ha! I started laughing as he tossed the food out at how ludicrous it must have seemed, but I knew if that food stayed in my jeep, I would have eaten it.

I know my weaknesses. I know not to get too hungry. I know not to expose myself right now to places or people who are triggers for food. This all sounds so crazy seeing it in print, but the truth is, living as a fat girl is crazy! Food addicts will go to great lengths to get what they want and hide it. When, really, nothing is hidden. You can't hide fat. It is what it is...rolls of it hanging off of your body.

Perhaps the best part of the last 10 days is seeing the progress. I can see the veins in my feet and hands again. The puffiness in my cheeks is gone. In 10 short days, I have lost weight. But even better than losing the weight, is the feeling of finally doing what I know I can do! I am taking care of my body...physically, mentally, and spiritually. Remarkably, I have seen a transformation in my kid. He is so proud of me! He has been so encouraging and is loving who I am striving to be. He deserves a healthy mama...and with God's help and sheer determination...he will get one!

Oh Yes I Did!

2013-01-10T10:08:00.001-06:00

I survived. No…really I did. With shaking fingers and a racing heart, I pressed the post button on Tuesday exposing my fat for what it was…a suffocating, life sucking monster that I had allowed to take every ounce of desire to really live away.

And you know what…as shameful as exposing weaknesses and failures is; I have never felt more relieved. I slept Tuesday night for the first time in many, many years. I mean really slept. It was as though 10 million loads had been lifted from my shoulders.

But what’s even more amazing than a great night’s rest and relief from finally putting it all out there was the response I got from so many.

You see, what I came to realize Tuesday was this journey of life we are all on is not really about us as individuals. This journey is about doing for and creating joy and loving and listening to others. This journey is about using whatever you have both externally and internally to lift up those around us.

We all have a story. Did you know that? We really do. We have hurts and joys and laughter and tears and secrets. We have hidden skeletons far in the recesses of our minds and brilliant tales of successes, too.

I was so embarrassed and ashamed to expose what I so desperately have tried to hide, but I did it…not for anyone else, but for me. And surprisingly, through my shame, God blessed me by showing me that there are so many more just like me.

Whether your battle is losing weight or trying to gain weight, or struggling with insecurities or past hurts, or anger and bitterness, or drugs and/or alcohol…your pain and isolation is just as painful as mine. You are not alone!

So today, I am rejoicing, not in my shame, but in the all-encompassing grace I have been shown by friends, family, and complete strangers that have embraced me not for what I have become, but for who I am on the journey to be.

I am taking one day at a time…literally. I am trusting the One who knows and loves me…my creator…to give me the strength to fight the temptations and push me to do the dreaded exercise I have to do. So far, so good!

Whatever your struggle, I pray today you will know peace. Peace that comes from the painful release of whatever binds you. Just put it all out there! There is no living going on in the past…only death…slow, eating away at the soul death. You deserve more! We all do!

Moving From a Spectator to a Winning Player

2013-01-08T14:29:00.000-06:00

I am that story…you know the one. You’ve heard it a million times. I’m the fat girl, the one you pass and pretend you don’t see. The one you internally feel pity and disgust for all at the same time. I’m the one you see that makes you think to yourself, “Why doesn’t she just quit eating, or why did she let herself get that way?” How profound your questions, but shallow and insensitive, too. I am me, fat, invisible, sloppy, angry, sad, emotionally scarred, misunderstood, reckless, insecure, tired, and buried. That’s right. I said buried.

I’ve been buried in these layers of stinky, nasty, hot fat for years. I’ve been buried within this prison of fat cells and heavy skin for far too long. I’ve buried away my life under layers of fat while letting the fat suck the very desire to exist completely out of me. I have been buried so far beneath the surface of lard that I no longer know the girl hidden beneath.

Did I mention I was tired? I am so tired…and I don’t mean the physical kind of tired that you get from working hard or exercising. I certainly haven’t worked hard, and I darn sure haven’t exercised. I am the kind of tired that makes opening my eyes, thinking, getting out of bed, taking a shower, washing clothes, or having a conversation nearly impossible. The very thought of moving my body through space exhausts me. I am tired of just getting by, but not really getting by. Being buried in a coffin of fat keeps me from even doing the bare essentials.

So, when does this kind of tired become so exhausting that life is no longer livable, you ask? Well, that question is one I am willing to answer. It is now…now; I am too tired to live life any longer buried in a coffin of fat that I have managed to build for myself one cheeseburger, snack cake, and french fry at a time. I am going to dig myself out, not because I have to, but because I want to live…really, really live. Ain’t no living going on in a coffin…just dying…slow, painful, suffocating dying.

So, I guess your next question is, “What are you going to do differently that you haven’t already done before?” I am going to fight the ugliness that clouds my good thoughts and drives my well-intentioned fat fighting train right into the nearest brick wall. I am going to get up, get out, and get the life I was meant to have. Ideally, a change of mind would be enough to cause me to change my life. Realistically, I know just setting my mind to losing weight isn’t enough.

Real success will only come when I pull out one skeleton, one hurt, one bad memory at a time and let them go. Yep, that’s right. I am going to let them all go. I am going to sort through the fat cells that are each really emotional wounds that I have chosen to never let heal in the past. I have picked at the scabs of those wounds and bandaged them with tons of grease and carbs. Never really letting any of them heal, because true healing meant I could no longer bandage them with a pack of chocolate bars or bag of chips. Opening up wounds and exposing them for what they are can only happen when I decide that the pain of dealing with my past is easier than dealing with the pain that will be my future. So, it’s a toss up. I choose to sort through the past, tossing out each fat cell, to make room for real living cells. The kind of living that happens when I can play ball with my kid and not feel like I am going to die after 5 minutes. The kind of living that comes from hiking trails, bike riding, camping, swimming, and sitting in the floor and playing cards. The kind of living that sees life not for what it could have been, but how great it can be.

I have wanted to write so many times. Words were there, and I had plenty to say. The truth is, putting words to paper is impossible when there is truth that begs to be told, but too painful to see in print. And then, it dawned on me today. It wouldn’t matter if the truths of my life, painful as they are, were ever written. The excruciating painful truth is already evident in every dimple of fat on my butt, every roll of lard on my stomach, and in my disgusting, sagging, sweaty breasts. I just couldn’t uncloud my thoughts long enough to let the truths come to light and really expose them to myself for the prison they have created within my own body of morbid fat. Any spectator can see something just isn’t right. No human body is meant to be like this. No one comes to be this gross, miserable, and fat, because they want to be. It just happens, and then one day…like today…you wake up. You wake up and realize you are dying, literally, in a coffin of fat. You wake up and smell the horrific smell of death and see the sight of rotting flesh which has become what you know as life, but isn’t really life at all.

So today, I am prying open the coffin of fat one fingernail at a time. There are glimmers of light, small as they are, creeping through the cracks. I can see them. I have hope. I have hope that today is not just another promise to myself that tomorrow I will do better. No, I have hope in today. It is only today that I can get through. I will deal with tomorrow tomorrow. As I pull myself out of this dark, desperate coffin of fat, I will leave behind, to be buried forever, all of the emotional crap I have stuffed with food so as to avoid dealing with it. Yep, life for me begins today. So, here’s how I got this way…

I cannot remember being skinny…ever. There are pictures of me as a small child in which I was not at all overweight. I don’t know when it actually started…the fat that is. I just know that around 3rd grade, I wasn’t like everyone else…skinny that is. My father would tell me I was the most beautiful girl in the world. The world told me differently. School was hard. No, it wasn’t hard; it was horrific. I was tormented daily. I was called elephant girl, fatty, and big ‘un by my classmates, who I so desperately wanted to like me. They drew pictures of me, picked me last for teams, heckled me, hit me, and made me cry. I hated myself. I hated them. I hated my life at home. I hated everything and everyone around me. And yet, I always smiled, pretended like nothing bothered me, and was the jolly Angie I thought the world wanted me to be, except I was fat. I thought would hide the shelter of fat that would eventually become my grave. My dad, who I lived with, had remarried. My step mom, as much as I wanted to love her, never really bonded with me. I think I was resentful that she had taken my dad away. I manifested that resentment by being an intolerable brat towards her. I am certain I was not easy to love.

My stepbrother, on the other hand, was perfect in every way and bonded quite naturally with my father, which caused even more resentment on my behalf. I was so jealous of him. He was cute, dressed in hip clothes, and was skinny. I, on the other hand, was forced to wear handmade fat clothes that my stepmother sewed. Buying clothes for me in department stores was difficult. I was too fat. The kids at school would heckle me by saying that my mom must have had to use a parachute to make my clothes. Clearly they liked me…ha! Much of junior high school was the same. I ate when I was lonely. I ate when I was happy. I ate when I was sad. I hid my eating and felt tremendous shame. I wasn’t conscious of my emotional eating, because it was all I knew. I was so lonely, and food was my only non-judging friend. I hated food, though. But I loved it, too. After moving away from home, I did what any sensible thinking food addict would do. I went to culinary school. What better way to feed an addiction than to surround yourself with an all-consuming presence of food? I hated it there. Once again, I felt insecure and out of place. I had no desire to learn. I just wanted to eat.

Food has been the only constant in my life. When no one else was there, food was. I have tried to lose weight before...lots of times. I have done every diet there is and done quite well at many. But like so many others, I only cared about losing the weight rather than dealing with what made me gain it all in the first place.

I have had several good jobs since culinary school. I went back to college, not once but twice. Somewhere in the midst of jumping through hoops in the working world and attempting to complete college, I just gave up...on me. I lost sight of what could be and became complacent with what was my reality...my coffin of fat.

Nearly 10 years ago, unable to see through my haze of fat and self-loathing, I met a man who showed me some attention...you know the kind of attention any girl wants. He was married. I have always had strong Christian morals, but again...I was just lost and so wanted to have someone...anyone love me even if it was a married man who only wanted one thing.

For one night, I let down my guard and nine months later, I had a child. Now, let me just say right now that I don't condone my behavior one bit. I have wished a million times that I would have had just one ounce of enough self-esteem to stand up for myself and say no. But the truth is, I didn't. The only good thing that came from that night was my beautiful soon-to-be 9 year old son.

Having gotten pregnant, unmarried, and by a married man of a different race kind of put a strain, to put it nicely, on my relationship with my parents. They severed ties with me when I told them I was pregnant. However, regardless of what I knew I would lose by keeping my son, I loved him whole-heartedly from the moment the doctor shocked me by saying I was pregnant.

And...well, I have lost everything...everything that is except my weight. I have gained nearly 100 pounds in the last 9 years. I have continued to eat and gain and eat and gain until I am disgusted by the reflection of myself in the mirror. If I thought I could get clean by showering with my clothes on, I'd never get naked.

I have been homeless, broke, broken, and nearly drove my son and I off a bridge when he was an infant, because I couldn't see how anyone could ever love us. But God...well, God loved us and loves us still. I have seen Him do things that only He could have done.

So here I am today...I finally have a home with bricks and windows and a working stove and a refrigerator that has an ice and water dispenser. I have a working car and a job that pays the bills. My son has clothes and name brand shoes. I have struggled to get here. Nothing has been easy! Why, then, would I continue to punish myself by living in a coffin of fat?

Don't I deserve more? Doesn't my son deserve more??? We both do! And I am ready. Yes, I said it. I am ready! I am ready to get off my lazy, tired, sweaty, stinky rear and do something different.

So why in the world would I put all of this out there into cyber land knowing that someone would see my personal battle? Because I know without a doubt, I am not alone. There are other girls who pretend to be living, but are really dying slowly one fat cell at a time in a coffin of fat. While, I would like to believe that the road ahead will be easy, I already know it won't be. The difference this time, is that I would rather suffer through the journey of trying, then leave my son alone in this world because his fat mama was just too sorry to try.

So here's my journey...all 387 pounds of it. Yep...I really did just put it out there. And for once, I am ok with it, because that is who I am. I am the fat girl. But I don't have to be her anymore. I choose today to crack open that fat coffin and begin life. It took me nearly 40 years to get to this weight, so I know full well that nothing will happen overnight. But by gosh, I am determined to live. I mean it...really start living.

I will post here regularly as a way to hold myself accountable. I am what I am, but I have hope and total faith that I can do better.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

The earth shattering call

2012-02-22T13:39:00.001-06:00

            The phone rings at 12:32 a.m. On the other end of the line is the call…that dreaded call announcing someone you loved has passed. Shock and sadness consume every fiber of your being. The world as you know it will never be the same.
            A doctor’s visit for what was thought to be something insignificant results in a deadly diagnosis of cancer or some other life altering condition. The brakes of your otherwise normal life slam you to a sudden stop leaving you to wonder, “Why me?”
            Someone you trust and thought you knew reveals they aren’t who you thought they were. Deception and anger fill your mind, and questions of who and what they have become plague your thoughts.
            Have you been there? Have you had your world turned upside and rocked to the core by something so overwhelming that taking the next breath is too difficult to fathom?
            Life is like that. It is unpredictable. But there is One who knows and who is never shocked or caught off guard.
            While I would like to believe that I have everything under control in my little corner of the world, the truth is, I don’t. But God does, and He is bigger than any crisis that comes my way.
            During those times in my life where I couldn’t see past the crisis at hand, and fear and doubt clouded my rational thinking, I can look back and see how God was working. There have been times, that only the prayer of others sustained me. I know that now, but at the time, I was so consumed by pain or fear of the unknown that I was unable to see God for who He was and is.
            I think we often put our understanding of God in a little box placed on the shelf of our existence only to pull it down as a last resort in times of crisis. But God is bigger than that and can’t be boxed.
            God is the same in times of plenty and in times of need. He is God, the creator of life and death and good and bad and joy and pain. He is the greatest of all.
            This week, I have seen and heard things that have shaken the world as I know it, but God is still God. He is the same God today as He was yesterday and will be the same tomorrow as He was today. The only difference is how I choose to handle the situation at hand.
            So for today, I choose to place my faith in the One who knows far more than I. Today, I choose not to judge those that have been deceitful, but instead pray whole-heartedly for God’s peace to sustain them. Today, I choose to love the Lord with every fiber of my being in solemn prayer that those who are hurting with indescribable pain will find peace in a terrible situation. Today, I will kneel at the foot of the cross and leave my burdens in the hands of the One who can handle them. Today, I pray you will do the same.
            “Seek the Lord and His strength; seek His presence continually!” 1 Chronicles 16:11

Unsewing the Seams of Sin

2012-01-13T13:35:00.001-06:00

      She would start with nothing but a pattern and a cut of fabric. Her fingers would measure and cut and pin. The pedal on the machine would click as her foot pressed and released it making the needle pull the delicate string. Her old olive green office chair would creak and moan as she readjusted her posture after hours of sitting in it.
       The fabric, that began, as nothing would soon be a treasured creation of hers to be worn by me on Easter Sunday morning.
        Occasionally, I would hear the seam puller rip through stitches knowing she wasn’t pleased with a seam. It had to be perfect, so she would rip and sew until perfection was reached.
       Her hands would tug and pull and sew and pin the fabric, and the machine would hum and click until, finally, my Easter Sunday dress was just the way she envisioned.
       I would model it and twist and twirl fancying in my Easter best. I loved my dress. But more than the dress, I loved the dressmaker.
       The ripping and cutting and piecing together were time consuming and took patience, and she had it…lots of it.
        Even when I complained that I was tired of trying on the dress for alterations and hem length measurement, she was diligent in her persistence, so that I would have the perfect dress.
      The process of any creation is often painful. The mending and pulling and ripping away what isn’t useful is hard, but it is necessary in order to create perfection.
       As sinners, our fabric is stained and frayed, and unable to hold a straight stitch. We struggle with straight lines and perfect hems. We pull the thread of sin, winding it deep within our core.
        God is constantly altering our seams. He tugs and pulls the fragments of our imperfect pieces.     His fingers are deliberate as He rips the sins we have sewn into the fabric of our lives. He is the seamstress, and we are His fabric…His creation.
      The perfection process is painful, because He exposes the crookedness of our sin and the zigzag patterns of our thread.
     We get tired of the process of this sewing and mending and pulling. But He keeps on until we give in to His hands…the hands that ultimately create what is perfect and without flaws.
     And I want what He is sewing: A one-piece creation that is woven in Him. In Christ, we are never frayed or torn. All pieces are made whole and new. In Him, we become the perfect Easter dress.
     My step-mother taught me through those Easter dresses about yearning for what is good and righteous...about being patient with the process of perfection. And how sometimes, exposing the ugly seams is painful, but ultimately pulling and tugging at the misshapen fabric that is made from our sin is what brings the glory that He has for us.
     While I am pricked with needle sticks, and my fabric is still frayed, I yearn for His perfect seams and will keep allowing the process of His perfecting the imperfect, so that I will eventually become the perfect Easter dress.
“...being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” Philippians 1:6

A Must See

2012-01-13T10:49:00.001-06:00

A friend of mine just posted this video on her facebook, and I love it! My favorite lines are "I spent my whole life building this facade of neatness, but now that I know Jesus, I boast in my weakness. Because if grace is water, then the church should be an ocean. It's not a museum for good people, it's a hospital for the broken. Which means I don't have to hide my failure or hide my sin. It doesn't depend on me, it depends on HIM."
http://youtu.be/1IAhDGYlpqY

Not Just Spinning My Wheel

2012-01-11T08:03:00.004-06:00

I saw a quote of Martin Luther’s this weekend on the back of a t-shirt that I loved. It said, “I have so much to do that I shall spend the first three hours in prayer.”

Do you ever have days like that? Do you ever have days when your to-do list seems impossible to complete and overwhelming just to think about?

Do you ever have days when you speed through the day trying to accomplish all there is to do, and when nighttime falls, you wonder exactly what all you did that day?

As a single mother, my plate is often overflowing with things I need to get done. There is laundry, homework, housework, bills that need to be paid, and somewhere in there, I have to work.

I am not complaining at all as I know others that have much more to do than I. But sometimes, the days can just run together, and I end up feeling like I have been running on a hamster wheel…expending lots of energy, but getting nowhere.

There is a distinct difference in the quality of my days when I spend my first waking moments with God reading His word and praying. I am able to slow down and live through the moments of my day with ease and enjoyment rather than hurried and flustered.

On the mornings that I sleep too late and have to rush to get my kid to school and myself to work, I feel like I am missing something all day...like I just can’t seem to get it together.

I have come to know that I need that time in the morning when it is just God and I…when there is no one else around to distract me. I become centered on His will and am filled with a peace in what can otherwise seem like a crazy day.

I don’t want to look back one day and think, “What was I so busy doing that I didn’t take time to just enjoy life?”

I believe God is about the small details of our lives, as well as the big life-changing details. God wants to be involved in every aspect of our lives.

When my morning time is spent concentrating on a relationship with God, my day becomes less about to-do lists and frantic chaos. I can fully trust that God and I can handle whatever comes my way.

The Bible says in Philippians 4:6-7, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

The peaceful hand of the one who created us can calm our anxieties and worries.

Our time is short here, and not a moment is guaranteed. I want to make the most of it enjoying the people I love and learning to seize every moment rather than drowning in the chaos that keeps God at a distance and me in a state of worry.

This week, I pray you will pencil in on your to-do lists some quiet time with God, so that He can fill you with the peace that transcends all understanding.

Rockin' in a boat of fear

2012-01-06T08:00:00.000-06:00

     Imagine with me for a moment, the scene of Jesus and the disciples as they were in a boat on the Sea of Galilee during a horrific storm.
     The Bible details the event as quite frightening to the disciples. Yet, Jesus was asleep during the turbulent waves and rocking of the boat. The waves crashed over the side of the boat, and I can imagine that the disciples feared certain death.
     Several of the disciples were fishermen by trade, so they were used to rocky seas. However, this storm was unlike any they had ever seen.
     The disciples awoke Jesus and asked him if He was just going to let them drown in the horrible storm.
     There are two things that are important to point out here. First, although Jesus was asleep, He was never unaware of what was happening on that boat. Second, fear overcame the disciples and created doubt in who Jesus claimed to be.
     When Jesus spoke the words, “Quiet! Be still” to the storm in Luke 4:39, the wind died down and it was completely calm. Jesus then questioned why the disciples had such little faith.
Unfortunately, I have been like the disciples during turbulent times of my life. In the uncertainty of the moment, I have questioned Jesus’ intentions and thought He was surely not paying attention to what was happening in my life.
     The fear of the unknown has riddled me so, that instead of trusting that Jesus knew better than I, I have taken matters into my own hands. Thus, creating bigger messes.
     The Bible clearly tells us that we are to not be afraid of what is to come. By trusting in Jesus and allowing Him to guide us, we can rest fully in the knowledge that He will provide. This is clearly easier said than done.
    Having been homeless, jobless, and penniless at one time, I have seen God do incredible things that only He could do. Has it been easy? Life is never easy, but it is always worth it.
    During the times I have allowed my fears to dictate my actions, I can clearly look back and see how wasted my energies were.
     Wallowing in fear renders us incapable of seeing God’s plan. Fear prevents us from venturing into the unknown and seeing the awesomeness that is God.
     Nothing good comes from fear. Only a personal relationship with Christ can give the peace and calmness we so desire in life.
    Psalm 23:4 says, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”
    Clearly this verse shows that we walk THROUGH the valley. Jesus does not just drop us off in the valley and forget us. He promises to see us through it.
    While your lifeboat may be rocky and filling with water, and perhaps, you are fearful you will surely drown, keep in my mind that Jesus provides calm waters. He is never asleep! Just keep paddling and praying.

A Bowl of Tears and A Heap of Mercy

2012-01-05T10:12:00.000-06:00

      In the 5th grade, I made a really bad grade on a test that I had not studied for. I had to take it home to have my father sign it. Being afraid of the consequences I would have to suffer from not doing well on the test, I forged my dad’s signature.
     The next day, my teacher having recognized what was clearly a forgery, sent me to the principle’s office. I had to call my father and tell him what I had done. I knew I was in big trouble!
     Later that afternoon, after spending the remainder of the day worrying about my impending punishment, my father picked me up from school and took me to an ice cream shop for a treat.
     Now, on any other day, this would have been quite fun. However, knowing what I had done and how disappointed my dad was in me, I could not enjoy this outing.
     While tears rolled down my cheeks and splashed into my bowl of pistachio ice cream, I sat at the table in the small shop and waited for what was sure to be some type of horrific punishment.
     I certainly deserved a spanking or perhaps being grounded from television, but I did not receive either of those that day. Instead, I received a few treasured moments about how God’s mercy is great enough to forgive us even when we are least deserving of it.
     My father taught me far more that day than just lessons on honesty. He taught me about mercy.
     One of my favorite examples of Christ’s mercy is told in Luke 7:36-50. A woman, whose name is never told, came to see Jesus at the home of Simon, where Jesus had been invited to dinner.
      She was a sinner woman perceived by Simon as not worthy of Jesus’ forgiveness or even worthy enough to be in His presence.
      I can imagine Simon’s critical thinking, as I have often been quick to judge others at times.
     Upon arriving at Simon’s home, the sinful woman kneeled at Jesus’ feet, washed them with her tears and dried them with her hair. Lastly, she poured expensive perfume on them.
     All of the actions made by this sinful woman were custom in that day. However, because Simon perceived her sins to be so bad, he was appalled that Jesus would allow this trashy woman to behave in this way and even said so to Jesus.
     Jesus was quick to correct Simon in his thinking. Jesus was also quick to forgive this sinful woman by showing her great mercy inspite of her sins. The sinful woman was so broken from her wicked life that all she could do was weep. Can you imagine her joy after Jesus had shown her such compassion and love?
     I am like that sinful woman. We are all like her. We are sinners. We are broken. We are in need of Jesus’ mercy. While my sins may be different from yours, we are still just sinners. I can do nothing to earn forgiveness.
     Christ’s mercy cannot be bought or earned. It was paid for when He died on the cross. All we have to do is ask for it.
     My earthly father was not hesitant in showing me mercy on that day of 5th grade, when I so did not deserve it. My Heavenly Father is never hesitant in showing me mercy by forgiving me of my sins.
      Just like Christ is quick to forgive each of us, we can show that same mercy to others by being a vessel of forgiveness.
      May you know the peace that comes from His mercy this week and be steadfast in showing it to others.

The Canvas of Our Lives

2011-12-30T16:11:00.000-06:00

There is a perfect moment each day that I enjoy more so than any other. It is the early part of the morning when the sun begins to creep from its slumber. The earth fills with shades of pink, purple, and orange, and I envision God with a paintbrush stroking a canvas.

These silent, still moments are mine alone, and I eagerly look forward to them as I find it is a perfect way to “see” God and spend quiet time alone with Him. The peacefulness of the sunrise fills me with an excitement for the day.

I often photograph these sunrises, because there are never two just alike. While the photographs capture some of the beauty, one photograph can never fully capture the ever-changing sunrise or the breathless beauty that it becomes through each stroke of the Master Artist’s paintbrush. The sunrises are continuously changing within the few minutes they are there. How do you capture such indescribable beauty in one picture?

During my many mornings of watching the unveiling of the sunrise, I often think about how each of our lives is a canvas to God. We come into this world blank, and as we grow, He begins to apply different techniques through the work of His paintbrush. We become the individual artwork of the Master’s hand full of potential and gifts.

Each day, God reveals another brushstroke on this painting that is my life. I can see with clarity how He has painted away the guilt, the shame, and the brokenness of this sinner girl, leaving behind a canvas of grace-filled colors and redeemed gentle strokes of new life.

There have been times that I have taken the paint and the brush for myself. Either I did not trust God with His artistry or I was just too stubborn to give Him full control. What I created was a canvas of skewed colors and unsightly messes…far from anything that could be considered art. But God…God was still God.

When I finally realized my talents at painting this canvas of my life was far too much for me, God was eagerly willing to accept the brush and paint once again to begin a new work. For that, I am glad!

Then, there are mornings when the sunrise is hidden behind gray clouds and a thick curtain of fog. Seeing the array of colors and the strokes of His brush is difficult. But God…God is still God. And His hand is still working and painting and mixing colors and gifts. And I am still watching and waiting for the explosion of His majesty across the horizon.

Isn’t that just like our lives? Sometimes we get covered up in the fog of our messes and our canvases become clouded with ungratefulness, but God…He is still God. When we give back the brush and the paint and the canvas, His colors of mercy break through the fog and the clouds revealing fresh, new opportunities for each day allowing us to begin anew.

Just as each sunrise is different, so are we. We all have an array of colors and gifts and talents yet to be painted on the canvas of our lives, and I do not want to miss a single one of mine.

The New Year will soon begin and it brings with it the chance for colorful, brilliant new brushstrokes on our lives. Allow the Master Artist to brush you in fine delicate colors this coming year. His artwork is far better than anything we can create on our own.

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” Ephesians 2:10
Happy New Year!

Preparing for Advent

2011-12-14T11:19:00.001-06:00

     Often I think we busy ourselves with all of the hustle and bustle of the holiday season...so much so that preparing for advent becomes more about buying and decorating and wrapping and cooking rather than preparing for the the coming.
     I've made a real effort this year to keep all of the distractions of material things out of my way. I have really focused on His arrival.
     Having a seven year old boy has made this even more important. I don't want him to ever think Christmas is about only the taking, because it's so much more than that.
     Preparing for advent is about preparing our hearts for the coming down of the Christ child. HE is the only eternal gift that matters.
     I have decorated the tree and the mantle, but at the center of it all is the Christ child, who I look forward to receiving.

    My son and I have talked extensively this year about what it means to give unselfishly...whole heartedly to others without expecting anything in return. Isn't that the way God did? And isn't that the way we should be?
     So while the lights twinkle and the shiny balls reflect our faces, I am in constant prayer that my heart is a reflection of HIM...not of me or what I have or wish I had...just of HIM and His grace.
     Mary took the task of carrying Him and holding Him, and ultimately giving Him up. That sacrifice is more than my pea brain can absorb. Her faith and determination to be obedient is another part of what advent is to me.
     It is a time of rededicating myself to God...to His plan for me.
    And so I wait...I wait with an open heart for the arrival of this Child who loves me, who came without fanfare or parades. He came as a poor child in a dusty stable full of love and grace. That same baby will soon arrive again. I simply can't wait!

Just Some Thoughts

2011-12-14T10:27:00.000-06:00

Today, I am full of gratitude for a multitude of things. I just want to write them all down so I won't forget.

Joining Ann Voskamp in counting His graces for her Multitudes on Monday

I hope you'll join in if you haven't already!

1. I am thankful for grace shown to me in abundance by my Heavenly Father. Having royally made a mess of my life several years ago, I have seen the truest sense of redemption and restoration through His grace and mercy. I have lost everything and would do it again just to gain the peace that comes from a daily walk with Christ. The world may fall apart today, but there is peace in abundance through Him.
2. I am thankful for my wet nosed yorkie, Bella, who makes it her mission every morning to wake me with sweet nudges and a joyful spirit.

3. I am thankful for the gift that is my seven year old son, who challenges me daily to be better, live better, and seek God in how to raise him to be a good, well-rounded, God-seeking man.

4. I am thankful for a surprise email from my father, who severed our relationship 8 1/2 years ago. Just a few simple words remind me that God is still working on our relationship. Praise God! We may never reconcile completely on this side of Heaven, but I know God is still working.

5. I am thankful for the people in my small town, most of whom I don't even know their names, but I know their smiles. I love that so many pass by my office window everyday and wave and share a smile. Even when I am not looking, they tap the glass, to get my attention and share a smile. This makes me happy!

6. I am thankful for Christmas music...my new favorites this year are these:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wysek8oLpCU and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xpHiAmL8-b0

7. I am thankful for the things that appear small, but bring great joy like...the red birds in my yard, the Christmas lights around town, the greetings of the people I see in the grocery store and the dollar store, comfortable shoes, and funny co-workers.

These are just a few of the things I am thankful for today. Have a beautiful day and don't forget to be thankful, too!

Living A Bold Mary Life

2011-12-12T09:35:00.000-06:00

       The road was dusty and dark and long. Her belly, great with child, must have been filled with fluttering butterflies as she pondered what the future would hold for her son. HE would soon arrive, but there was no room…except in a stable.
       She was young and must have had great expectations, but there would be heartbreak …unspeakable, unimaginable heartbreak. And, yet she carried boldly through with God’s plan.
      During a conversation with my seven year old the other night, he asked me what it meant to be bold. I started describing what the word meant and included people I thought he would relate to as living bold lives. Thus, begun a long discussion of Mary, the mother of Jesus.
     According to Luke 1:28, Mary was highly favored by God, which we can assume from this that Mary had been obedient and completely devoted to God.
      After the Angel Gabriel told her that she would carry the Christ child, instead of questioning and complaining about the magnitude of what she was about to undertake as I would have done, she simply said in Luke 3:38, “I am the Lord’s servant, May your word to me be fulfilled.”
      Wow! Even with all of the questions that must have been running through her head, she was bold in her decision to be obedient.
      I know what I would have been thinking, “What will Joseph say?” “What will my parents think?” “What if Joseph says he won’t marry me?” “How am I going to raise the Savior of the world?”          Finally, I would have said, “Why ME?”
      But Mary, did none of that. She simply took her faith and her obedience and the Bible tells us she hurried to Elizabeth’s house where they rejoiced together.
      Mary was poor in material possessions, but she was rich beyond measure in her spirit. Imagine if we were all that bold in our spirit.
      I am just going to be completely honest in saying, that there is no way I would have ridden on a donkey for miles, nine months pregnant only to give birth in a stinky, germ infested stable. I am quite sure I would have demanded far more. But Mary wasn’t concerned with her own comfort. She only wanted to carry out what God had asked of her.
      Also, I cannot imagine many, if any men, who would have been willing to take a woman for his wife that was already pregnant by some unheard of means to be his wife. But Joseph, like Mary, was bold in his faith and took Mary anyway.
      God chose two ordinary people to parent the Messiah…the Savior of all mankind. And guess what? He still chooses the ordinary to do extraordinary.
      In my often questioning mind and wavering faith, I long to be bold like Mary…to believe without hesitation and to run with delight even when faced with what seems like an impossible situation. Oh to have bold faith like that!
       As the day we celebrate Christ’s birth draws nearer, I am eagerly seeking that bold faith…the kind of faith that allows God to do something extraordinary with an ordinary girl like me. I pray we will all seek that kind of bold faith.

Redeemed and Restored

2011-12-08T08:14:00.000-06:00

        As a teenager, I used to visit a small town in the hills of Tennessee on mission trips with my church youth group. I loved these trips, as it was a time of peeling away the layers of modern conveniences like television, and air conditioning, and getting down to what was really important in life like spending time with good people splashing in the fresh water creeks, chasing pigs, riding in the back of pick up trucks through miles of dirt roads, and finding Christ in the midst of it all.
       We would lead vacation bible school for the children in this small community, many of whom waited all year for us to arrive.
       On my first trip, I met a young boy, who was a bright, blue eyed, blonde headed, full of life kind of kid: except he was not really full of life. This sweet 10 year old was dying of AIDS. Robert had contracted the virus through a blood transfusion.
       Keep in mind this was before the time blood was thoroughly tested, and those with AIDS were feared and most were ostracized.
       My dear friend, Rose, and I were never afraid of Robert. In fact, he was our favorite kid.
       On a hot afternoon, sitting in the sticky grass of a field, Robert asked Christ to come into his life. Rose and I prayed with Robert that afternoon, and it was a pivotal moment in my life.
        I continued to visit Robert over the next couple of years and watched as the disease began to take its toll on his precious life.
       After graduating from high school, I went to culinary school at Opryland Hotel in Nashville. I had not been back to visit Robert in a while and had really not thought about him much.
       While throwing away my lunch one afternoon, I noticed a newspaper on the top of the garbage can in the cafeteria. After taking a second look, I realized the picture on the front of the paper was my sweet friend Robert lying in a hospital bed.
       Later that afternoon, still dressed in my chef’s uniform, I went to Vanderbilt Hospital to see my friend. Robert’s eyes were sunken, his skin was yellow, and it was clear Robert was in his last days. Robert was happy to see me again, but not nearly happy as I was to see him.
       I spent the next 2 days with Robert and his family at the hospital. Robert and I talked when he felt like it, and I would sit quietly with his family during the times he was silent.
      Robert was not afraid of dying, and he told me during one of our talks about his great anticipation of seeing his Heavenly Father for the first time. Even at his young age, Robert had more trust in and love for his Savior than most grown people.
       Late in the evening of the second day, at 14 years of age, Robert went to be with Jesus. I held his hand as he took his last breath.
       I was with him when he met his Savior for the first time in the hot field as he asked Christ to be his Savior, and I was with him when he went to meet his Savior in Heaven. Few things in my life will mean as much to me as that night.
       Nearly 20 years later, I still think about Robert. Robert lived this life with grace and forgiveness, and through his life, I learned to do the same. Life is precious, unpredictable, and far too short.
       Becoming a Christian is not about a title or a destination. It is about dying to oneself everyday and allowing Christ to live through us. It is about fully accepting His calling on our lives and seeking to put down our selfish desires and clothe ourselves in who He is rather than who we aspire to be.
        Christianity is about loving people…completely, regardless of the differences that separate us. It is about turning off the television and the telephones and spending time in His word and listening to His voice. It is not just about believing, but it is about living what we believe.
        My prayer for you this week is that you will take the time to be alone with God, to know Him and allow his strength to become your strength, and His love to become your love and that you will eagerly share it with others.

Chili Cookoff

2011-12-05T08:58:00.001-06:00

This weekend, Connor and I participated in a Chili Cookoff. Unfortunately, we didn't win, but we sure had fun. The chili I made was super easy and really good! I thought I would share the recipe since it appears we may be getting some cooler chili kind of weather. Keep in mind this recipe made a full crockpot and served at least 20 people. You could half the ingredients for a smaller portion or freeze part of it to use later.

Connor's Big Boy Chili

2 large onions, chopped

2 bell peppers, chopped

3 minced garlic cloves

1 1/2 pounds of ground round

2 cans of Bush's chili beans

2 cans of red kidney beans

1 12 oz. can of tomato paste

2 cans of Hunt's diced tomatoes with onion and bell peppers
1 cup water

1 packet of McCormick's Mild Chili Seasoning Mix

salt as needed

1/4 teaspoon of ground cumin

1/2 teaspoon of chili powder

Chopped green onions (optional)

Saute' onions, bell pepper, and garlic until tender. Add ground meat and cook until crumbled and no longer pink. Stir in water, undrained tomatoes, tomato paste and Chili beans. Drain the kidney beans and then add. Add McCormick's packet and the rest of the seasonings. Let simmer on low for 30 minutes. Serve with chopped green onions to garnish.

Love Is Coming Down

2011-12-03T06:00:00.000-06:00

The stockings are hung, and the tree is adorned with ornaments. We sit and watch the twinkling of the shiny lights and sparkling balls.

The mantle is decorated with garland and lights and trees. The nativity is there arranged with the shepherds and sheep. In the middle of it all is the ceramic Baby Jesus resting in His manger with Mary and Joseph close by watching it all unfold.

             And it is unfolding…the days of Christmas are unfolding before me, and I see in my child’s gleaming eyes the wonder and majesty of the season.
             I remind myself that this unfolding of the holiday cannot be found in wrapped gifts. It cannot be bought or made by delicate stitches embroidered on a gift.
            This holiday is not a product that can be put on a list to be checked twice and delivered by a jolly fat man in a red suit. This holiday can only be found. It can only be found in the unfolding of the one who IS Christmas into our lives. This holiday is Jesus.
            Christmas is the delightful anticipation of the birth of the Christ child who came down full of love. Joy To The World! Love is coming down!

            And in the stillness of the moment with the lights glistening and the advent candle glimmering, I can almost hear the shepherds chatting with childlike giddiness upon finding the King. I imagine the angelic voices that proclaimed his birth. Can you hear it, too? Can you feel it…the excitement? They found Him, and we can, too!
          What if we all just slowed down this season to breathe deep and set aside lists and stressful expectations?
          What if we all just simply waited with our hearts wide open for the unfolding of the Messiah?

The King of the World arrived without fanfare, parades or horns. He came quietly and gently, just as He beckons to us today…quietly and gently, saying, “Be still and know…”

Might I encourage us all to be still and know the precious child who waits for us this Christmas?
There, in the cradling trough, is the Christ babe, and He is still there. Won’t you come with me to see him, to hold him?

Slow down this season. Listen for His coming. Feel His coming. He will soon be here…this King…our Emmanuel. O Come Let Us Adore Him!!!

My Newest Christmas Decoration

2011-12-02T08:36:00.001-06:00

After seeing the idea for making a Christmas tree from a tomato plant cage, I decided to attempt it. However, finding a tomato cage in December is, well, impossible. So, I remembered that I had an old cemetery flower easel in the storage room and thought I could use the same idea of decorating the tomato cage, but use the easel instead. Most floral shops have these easels and will gladly give one away.

The first thing I did was wrap the stand down to the triangle portion with garland. I used a couple different kinds of garland, because I didn't have enough of just one kind to wrap the whole stand. You can't tell that there are more than one kind, because I weaved them together.

Next, I wrapped my lights around it. I used 1 strand of colored lights and 1 strand of white lights.

Then, I wrapped some mesh ribbon around it and put a shiny star at the top. I poked the legs of the easel into the ground all the way up to the triangle part. It looks just like a Christmas tree as you drive by.

I got some ornaments to put on it yesterday and will finish it off this afternoon. This project was super easy!!!! And it turned out really pretty!!!

What are some easy Christmas decorations you have done this year?

Looking Behind, But Plowing Ahead

2011-12-02T08:02:00.001-06:00

I appreciate a good driver, probably more so than most. More than just a good driver, I really admire a good backer upper.

My lack of reverse skills began early in my driving career when I backed over my driving teacher’s foot while learning how to parallel park nearly 25 years ago. Perhaps, I should have climbed out of the driver’s seat then and given up my quest for a driver’s license.

While I am great at driving forwards, my reverse skills are lacking to say the least. Shamefully, I will admit that I have backed over a boy on a bike (he was uninjured, but the bike was not so lucky), two skateboards, three tricycles, two bicycles, a four-wheeler, a scooter, a mailbox, several trees, bushes, and an assortment of flowerbeds. I have backed into enough cars that I no longer keep count of the total. I want even begin to detail the unfortunate garbage man who got an early wake up call in the form of my rear bumper. Suffice it to say, he survived, thankfully, unharmed.

Most recently, I came within a honk and an inch of replacing one of Union’s police car’s front bumpers with the tail end of my car. I would have laid my license and my keys right in the middle of Bank Street and walked away, never to drive again, if I had hit that sweet police officer.

Now, in my defense, I am not alone in this reversing disorder. I come from a long line of bad backer uppers. My grandfather and my father have backed into their share of garage doors, parked cars, and yard fixtures. I acquired my lack of reverse skills honestly.

The mystery of this reverse disorder is that I seem to always be looking behind me just in case there is something or someone that I might hit. I spend more time looking behind than I do forward, but it never seems to help. I still manage to back over a poor unfortunate object.

I have found that my obsession with looking behind me is much like that of the many people who spend more time obsessing with what is behind them rather than seizing what is ahead.

Philippians 3:13 says, “Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead…”

Paul wrote the book of Philippians while he was in prison. Even in his imprisonment, he was still eagerly encouraging others to look ahead rather than focus on their past that involved bitterness and unforgiveness.

While the past holds lessons learned, dwelling on mistakes of the past serves no purpose for our lives in the future.

Christ promises to remove our sins as far as the east is from the west. Why, then, is it so hard for us to forgive ourselves? Guilt and shame are of no benefit to anyone but Satan. Dwelling on the past only prolongs pain and suffering, and ultimately, prevents a true relationship with Christ.

Rather than being filled with guilt and shame, we should be repentant. Heartfelt repentance means acknowledging our wrong and pledging to change. Guilt causes us to stay focused on the past rather than moving forward into the future of God’s grace.

I have made enough mistakes in my life to fill every nook and cranny on this side of the Mississippi. However, I know with certainty, that when I ask for forgiveness, not only am I forgiven, but I am given a chance to do things right. With that knowledge, I have a peace that I cannot find by worrying about what I should have or could have done in the past.

While I find it essential to stay focused on the rear of my car so as to prevent any further accidents, I am constantly looking forward to find the peace that passes all understanding through the forgiveness of the past. I pray you will do the same.

My Favorite Things This Year

2011-12-01T10:29:00.001-06:00

I just read the Favorite Things posts on Nester’s blog today. I loved her favorites, so I thought I would do one of my own.

This is my favorite time of year! I love it! Having a kid makes the holiday so much more special! Seeing the wonder and excitement in his face and sharing the real meaning of the holiday brings me so much joy!

Here are a few of my favorites this Christmas Season:

1. I heard this song on the KLove Christmas station on Itunes. I have listened to it at least a million times. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ekVOcpwC6u0

2. I discovered this blog yesterdayhttp://www.lillightomine.com/light-em-up-2011.php. What a great way to incorporate doing for others by doing the Light 'Em Up ideas.

3. This is the first year I have done Elf on a Shelf with Connor. O'Neil, our elf, "arrived this morning". Connor had a great time trying to find him. I have found some awesome ideas for O'Neil on Pinterest. I can't wait for tomorrow!

4. Wrapping presents is more of an art than a chore to me. I have the best time wrapping and creating bows and decorations to embellish the packages. I don't buy pre-made bows, because I enjoy making my own.

5. Mostly, my favorite part of this season is discovering all the ways I can create a Christ centered Christmas, as opposed to getting caught up in the commercialism that can easily distract from the celebration of the birth of Jesus. Here is one of the things I have framed for this year.

What are some of your favorite things this time of year?

Heavenly Bread Found In the Night Sky

2011-11-30T09:04:00.001-06:00

The night sky, filled with an infinite number of twinkling and shiny stars has become my new playground.

I stare into the dark vastness and search for His creations that appear before me slowly as I focus my eyes.

My son received a telescope recently, and we have been studying with great joy the creation out of our reach, but within our sight.

We fiddle and tweak the scope and set our sights on a world beyond us...a brilliant display of lights and dancing planets and stars.

“This is God’s creation,” I tell him, while looking into his amazed face.

“Lift your eyes and look to the heavens: Who created all these? He who brings out the starry host one by one, and calls them each by name. Because of his great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing” Isaiah 40:26.

The moon, gives way its light and blankets us in awe. I tell him, my son, that we are staring in the face of Heaven. God gave up His place in the starry sky that was not big enough to contain Him to come down in human form...to be held, judged, and hung like a thief.

I remind my son that the same star that appears before us led the way for the wise men to find the baby Jesus.

He, who carved the universe we are exploring, came to us to provide the bread of life.

God took on human form through His son Jesus and took the nails and our sins and made Himself bread so that all who are empty could fill themselves with the Bread of Life.

We continue our talk of the bread and the sky and the gift that is ours for the taking, while standing in the cold night air absorbing this that is God’s creation.

My son says to me, “But Mama, if we are supposed to be bread for others, why are there still hungry people in the world?”

How powerful a question for such a little guy!

And he’s right! What’s more important in this life than to be bread for another man?

It will soon be Christmas. The days are ticking by. We will celebrate the birth of Christ, who came as our daily bread...the bread of life. And yet, somewhere, someone will not be filled with that bread.

“I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats this bread will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.” John 6:51

Will you serve it to one who is hungry? Will you share a life giving portion to someone this season?

As we stare into the openness of the sky, and darkness wraps around us like a soft blanket, I pray that we will all be the bread of life to those who are hungry this Christmas.

How to Make a Mickey Pinata

2011-11-23T08:29:00.009-06:00

For my nephew's birthday last year, I made a Mickey Mouse pinata. This was a fun and easy project...and cheap, I might add.

Items needed to make it: a punching balloon, about 20 old newspapers, flour, water, black spray paint, one black and one white poster board, a paper clip or wire, and rope to hang it.

1. Blow up your punching balloon.

2. Cut your newspapers into 2" x 6" strips.

3. Mix 1 part flour to 1 part water. I added some elmer's glue, too. This will be a soupy mixture, but don't worry, it works. If you are making this a week or more in advance, add a tablespoon of salt to prevent molding.

4. Dip your strips of newspaper one a time and place on the balloon. Cover the balloon all the way around, but leave a small hole where the balloon is tied. The opening needs to be big enough to put candy through, so keep that in mind. Make the hole at the top of the pinata.

5. Do one layer at a time, allowing the paper to dry before beginning the next layer. I put mine in front of a fan to speed the drying process.

6. I did about 8 layers. The trick is to make sure your layers are completely dry. You'll be able to tell if you've done enough layers by how firm it is. If you are able to push in easily on the sides, you haven't done enough layers.

7. Once the entire thing is dry, spray paint it. I used black enamel spray paint, so it would have a shiny appearance.

8. After allowing the paint to dry, use a straight pin, and pop the balloon. It is essential to make sure all of your paper and paint are dry before you do this. I let mine sit all night in front of a fan. I highly recommend letting it dry overnight before popping your balloon.

9. Next, cut your black poster board into the shape of Mickey's ears. Cut out Mickey's pupils and nose, too, out theblack cardboard.

(I googled a template for Mickey's face, and then freehanded it on the poster board.)

10. Use the white poster board to cut out Mickey's face and eyes.

11. To attach the ears, I folded the bottom inch of the ears and taped them to the pinata.

12. Use a black marker to draw Mickey's mouth and nose crease.

13. Tape Mickey's face to the front. Use a red marker or red construction paper for Mickey's tongue.

14. Fill Mickey with the candy.

15. I cut a piece of black cardboard to cover the hole and glued it on. Then, I poked the wire through it. This was tricky, but I was able to twist the wire in order to get it to hold the pinata up.

16. Tie a rope or string to the wire and hang up your Mickey pinata.

17. Finally, enjoy the fun of watching the kids pop the pinata and scramble to pick up the sweet treats that fall.

Are you giving a cross-shaped life?

2011-11-21T09:03:00.004-06:00

The season of turkeys, sweet potatoes, pretty presents, and twinkling trees is quickly approaching. I can almost smell the rolls cooking and hear the scramble of shoppers in hot pursuit of the perfect presents.

Families will gather, fun will be shared and laughter will be heard.

But somewhere, for someone...the holidays will not bring such joy.

There will not be hidden treasures wrapped with tinsel and ribbon or families who gather for love and laughter. There will only be silence and a longing desire burning deep within for more.

There will be a mother with a broken heart who will not have the money to buy presents for her children, or a lonely widow who will not have family that stops by for dinner, or an elderly man that will sit silently on Christmas morn in a nursing home aching for someone...anyone to visit for a quick chat.

The true gift of this season can not be bought and wrapped in sparkly paper.

The true gift of this season was found in a manger surrounded by hay and donkeys and wrapped in cloths.

This baby, born into life only to give his life to die with arms outstretched, blood running down, crucified for our sins and asks only for our love in return.

God demonstrated, by the giving of his own son’s life, the real gift of this season.

God allowed Jesus to die, so that those who believe in Him would not die, but have the gift of eternal life in Heaven.

I am deeply convinced that Thanksgiving and Christmas season offer an opportunity to show a cross-shaped life by giving of oneself, with arms outstretched, unselfishly, and without any desire to receive anything in return.

In John 1:14, the Bible says “The word became flesh and made his dwelling amoung us...”

The holiday season grants each of us a chance to become His flesh to others by giving generously of ourselves, whether monetarily or just by giving of our time.

Allowing Christ’s unselfish cross-shaped life to become who we are creates a desire in the deepest crevices of our souls to love the unloved, suffer with the hurting, and pray with the powerless.

I have been the hurting mother with little to give and the lonely child simply longing to have my father hold me on Christmas morn.

But for the grace of others, who saw my needs and came to me with arms outstretched, pouring forth their cross-shaped lives into this undeserving sinner girl, I would not know the real gift of this season.

Once upon a time, having received the real gift of the season for myself, changed this broken, sinner girl and created a passion for giving to others.

Will you be that gift to someone this year? Will you give of yourself unselfishly, arms outstretched, love pouring forth through your cross-shaped life? Will you allow His presence in your life to be the ultimate present for someone else?

Pinterest fun

2011-11-21T08:18:00.005-06:00

So I've discovered Pinterest...Oh how I love thee! Connor and I spent the weekend doing projects. We love crafts, and Pinterest has an unlimited bounty of terrific crafts for kids and mommas. Our first project was a Christmas tree that I put on the mantle. I found some scrapbook paper at Dirt Cheap and cut and taped it. It was super easy!

Next, we made a manger scene. This was totally our idea. I love manger scenes! We cut the shapes of Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus, and the angel and glued them to cardboard. Then, I used some of the left over scraps of paper and made the stable.

These were great projects for 2 people who were sick all weekend. We have the sinus crud and have coughed and sneezed nearly the entire weekend. I sure hope we're better by Thanksgiving!

I found the perfect wreath for the front of my car. I have put a wreath on the front of my car for the last 4 years. Now, Connor claims he will not ride with me if I do it this year. I hope he enjoys walking. Ha! I took the wreath back, but not before I got a cute picture of Connor wearing it on his head.

Y'all have a great week! Be thankful!!!

Weathered Love of Grace

2011-11-18T12:23:00.005-06:00

He is weathered like a piece of driftwood…worn and tattered with age. His fingers are dark and rusty and twisted…the kind of hands and fingers that have worked hard and fast in a field or a factory. He walks with a limp. Age and time have worn him and show in his crooked back.

I wait for him every Wednesday with excitement. He is my friend.

The white car rounds the corner, and I see him with his hat on. His wife of many years sits in her spot in the passenger seat. She is always with him…always…except not today. I take a second look. She is not there.

He makes his way through my door smiling a smile that lights my darkest days. We exchange our greetings. He pulls his change from his pocket and passes the coins to me with his brittle fingers. I ask him where she is today…his wife.

His expression changes, and I wait. She is at home now. She can no longer ride with him. I wait…I wait for more. He looks into my eyes, and for a moment, I feel as though my heart may leap straight through my chest. He tells me she is now too sick to ride beside him.

She is not herself anymore. He tries to tell me what is wrong with her. She doesn’t know him anymore. She doesn’t know anyone. She is lost in her own mind, but he knows her…and he loves her. I can tell. And my swelling heart thumps so loud, I am afraid he can hear it.

In that moment, with the morning sun beaming through my office windows and shadows dancing around the room like angels and fairies, I see what I’ve never seen in him before. Suddenly, he is young and spry and speaks with a young man’s voice. In a moment, he is reliving the past with her, and I am soaking it in like cracked earth drinking drops of rain.

He beams like the sun behind him, and I can see it…that unselfish love. The kind of love you get from the Father to give to another. The all-encompassing passion for another human that you pledge to love in sickness and in health. And he does. He does love her, and I am blessed in that moment to share the joy and the sadness with him.

And I am thankful...thankful for God’s grace to live in this moment...to see God through a sweet man who asks for nothing and gives it all to his wife just as the Father gives it all to each of us.

My friend turns to leave, and I watch him slowly return to his car. I am filled up to overflowing with the lingering devotion left in the room. What a treasured gift to know the Father's love and to see it!

During this week of Thanksgiving, I pray we each take the time to find a moment of quiet to be with the Father and give thanks to the author of love. It is through Him, love flows from one to another and heals the broken hearted. May you be filled with joy and gratitude this week and soak up the gracious love of your Father.