August 11: Hope for the Crappy Christian, and Everyone Else



"No matter what people tell you, words and ideas can change the world."
~Robin Williams, Dead Poets Society



In the days since I posted Confessions of a Crappy Christian, I have found a new sense of hope, renewal, and peace. There is something to writing things out. To letting them go. To seeing them in front of you in black and white.


They become real.


Words have power, and God can use them in powerful ways, even in the life of the one who penned them. I've always been a visual learner who enjoys the academic process, and once I learn something I'm excited about it's a natural tendency to want to share it with others. It's a completely unnatural tendency for me to want to share the hard things I learn about myself. But I have found that to be the most helpful part in healing and moving on--the sharing and speaking of the shameful things, the difficult things, the deep struggles.

I've cried, a lot. Because when you see it there, in black and white, the reality can finally sink in. You can see it for what it is. What you've been trying so hard for so long to run from, hide from, ignore or suppress has finally bubbled to the surface. To overflowing. And it's out there.

And you find that this scary thing, this terrifying secret you've been holding onto, had become like the monster in the closet. The wolf under the bed. The alligator in the toilet. Tip-toeing around the secret has become so normal you're afraid to get up and move or leave the room that is your stagnant life. For so long you've been afraid to really live because of a fear that is so completely irrational. And when you finally turn the light on, you can see for yourself that there's nothing really there.


It was all...in your head. Stuck there. Imagine that.


Once the light is on, you can finally see God clearly again, putting everything back in perspective. And He reminds you, in His gentle and graceful way, that you never had to take on such a burden in the first place. His yoke is easy and His burden is light. Living in freedom feels so much better then being stuck behind the door of shame.

Now that you've outed this struggle, God can begin His redemption. He will bridge the gap between where you are and where He wants you to be, and all He needs is your cooperation. There will be hard work and and sacrifice involved, but He will order your steps and provide for your needs. And you don't need to do a thing except say YES to God each step of the way.



August 6: Confessions of a Crappy Christian



Do Christians say crappy? I guess I just did.


It all started when I felt The Lord prompting me to talk about obedience.


Obedience, y'all. The thing that I demand from my children on a regular basis with only moderate success. I should've known I was in for a ride.

When you start peeling back the many delicate layers of the onion that is obedience, you find that, underneath time, below money, and beneath the service layers, you eventually get down to the core--what's in your heart. Sometimes it's contents are surprising, even to the most steadfast believers.

I've thought many times about uttering this struggle, whispering the hard truths into the still of the night, but I couldn't seem to let the words slip out. They got caught on the massive lump forming in my throat, bound tightly to my insides by thick strands of guilt and failure. 

Even now as I begin to cut them loose and let them fall freely onto the page, my eyes well with tears, my heart with shame. When I opened the kids devotional book to read from it at lunch and saw the verse for the day, I knew. It was time.


Fix your attention on God. You'll be changed from the inside out. Romans 12:2 (MSG)


I didn't actually read the devotional book to the kids at lunch, as they had all already left the table. But it still broke my heart in two, so I suppose it served it's purpose. I do really well with family devotions sometimes, and then I'll open it up to find that the last time we read one was in March, and it's now August... First confession.

And then there's my devotions. I've never succeeded in surpassing 20% completion of my bible reading plan on my phone at any one time during the course of the year, thanks to my love/hate relationship with the "Catch Me Up" feature. If we were to judge by that alone, it means that out of 7 days in a week, I read my bible about 1.4 days. It's not even a crazy read-the-whole-bible-in-a-year-plan, either, which, by the way, is also something I've never done. It's a chapter a day at most, alternating between the Old and New Testaments, and yet, only about 1.4 days a week do I get around to it.

I don't only read the bible on my phone or exclusively for that plan, but even though there's other reading going on in there, I won't try to make the severe deficient look better for my sake. Surely, I want to. But I won't.

Now onto prayer, as this all hasn't quite been embarrassing enough. When I was a young mom, I survived on prayer because I didn't have time for anything else, or I felt like I didn't. But something happened along the way and now prayer is a struggle for me. I've gotten out of the habit, and when I have time to think and reflect, I usually choose to do other things like ponder concepts or write or check Facebook. 

Mini-collage assembled and posted online with witty commentary and life lessons learned? Check.

Time spent talking to the God of the Universe? Anyone? Anyone??

I know that prayer changes lives and hearts and connects us to the living God, that nothing good in this world is accomplished without prayer from someone somewhere, but I rarely steal away time to sit at His feet. I don't often pray for my children. I don't often pray for my husband. I don't often pray for friends, family, or the world with its endless troubles and unmet needs. 

Reality seems more harsh when it appears in black and white. And yet there it is.


I've had this chronic problem since I became a Christian over a decade ago. Really, I've had this problem my entire life, but it only became an issue when I gave my life to Christ. The problem is: MYSELF

And because I've had this problem my entire life, at this point in time, after 30+ years, I mean 29 years, it's quite a BIG problem. You're talking to a girl who incessantly pushes the snooze button in the morning, who is always late, whose house is a mess, who doesn't exercise or like anything that remotely requires hard work or stick-to-it-ness. It's a real quality. And I don't have it. Unless something comes easily or naturally to me, I don't do it.

I spend so much time on this problem of MYSELF that it has become my focus: what is God going to do with MY life? What has He called ME to do? I know He has something great in store for ME, but how is He going to do it? When? How can I make it happen now? If I can just think of the next great idea, write the next bestselling book…


Your real, new self will not come as long as you are looking for it. 
It will come when you are looking for Him. 
~C.S. Lewis


So the only solution I can see to this problem of MYSELF is to have less of it. Less of myself and more of Him. Fix your attention on God. You'll be changed from the inside out. No more pining, no more plotting, no more taking matters into my own hands. He doesn't want my time or my money or even my service more then He wants my heart.

I know He loves me just as much now as He ever will, and that because of Him I am enough, but I also know that He has great plans in store that involve making me new. God-sized plans and God-sized dreams. Dreams that will only be birthed through the hard work of discipline, the pain of death and the complete and continual surrender of MYSELF. There's a gap between where He wants me to go and where I currently am, and the only way to bridge that gap is with Him. More of Him, less of me.

I long to inspire and encourage women, to show that the Almighty God of the universe can work through any one of us, no matter our qualifications or history, with just a simple YES, a step of obedience in faith. That He created you exactly as you are with everything you need to accomplish His purpose for you. That He longs for you to be free and live abundantly for Him. But I have to do the hard work myself first. I have to live it before I can teach it. I have to model it before I can encourage it. I have to walk through it before I can lead.


That’s why my cup is running over. This is the assigned moment for him to move into the center, 
while I slip off to the sidelines. John 3:29-30 (MSG)


I wanted to share this because I don't think I'm alone. I hope that as stigmas continue to change in the church, we would all be more free to be on the outside who we truly are on the inside. That it would be okay, even encouraged, to speak about all kinds of struggles, including and especially struggles in our walk as a Christian. We can only encourage each other as far as the honesty reaches, and I hope my honesty was able to reach out and help someone else today.





P.S. I know we aren't focusing on ME anymore, really we're not, but Confessions of a Crappy Christian--that would make an awesome book title, no?? See, I can't even help myself. But I'm not pining or plotting. I'm not.

Seriously.






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August 5: Sorry Is Only a Word. It Can't Wipe the Tears Away.

Eva was playing outside with the big kids and wiped out, getting a bloody nose in the process.
It eventually stopped and she's as good as new. Poor lady...


Ya'll, today I just suck. There's no way around it.


Did you hear the ranting, raving lunatic and the crying children tonight? Ya, that was me. 


I need a timecard so that I can just punch out when it all gets to be too much and I'm beside myself. Because then I'm no good and make everyone else beside themselves, too. If only it worked that way sometimes. I think it's called a "babysitter" or something. I didn't have one of those tonight…. 


It's funny how we can go out of our way to show kindness to the neighbor down the street who lost power for the day, but when it comes to loving and blessing the people under our own roof, it can just be so hard some days. There's a paradox for you. Why is that? Why do we hurt the people that we love the most? 


I always swore I wouldn't be that kind of mom. The kind that wounds her kids with angry words that hurt. Words that remain long past the time they were spoken. Words that cut deep, words that tear down the delicate souls of those whose goal in life is to please you. Those who desperately want you to be slow to anger and abounding in love, like God. 


I long to be that. My prayer is to be that. But I wasn't today. And I know sorry doesn't take it back, but it's all I can say. Sorry is only a word, though. It can't wipe the tears away.


Deep down I'm afraid that my kids will look at this mess of a life, this mess of a mom, and wonder who this Jesus really is and if He's worth following at all, if I'm going to treat them like this some days. If this Jesus really is who He says He is, why does she hurt us so? Why hasn't He patched up the wounds on my angry heart, sealing them up once and for all so it can't keep spilling out all over them, again?


This life is a journey, and motherhood is, too. They wouldn't call sanctification "progressive" if it happened overnight, and I wouldn't be human if I didn't experience this plight. This tug between the prayer and the reality, the now and the not yet, the offense and the apology. Sorry is just a word, but I pray that it's the repentance they'll see. And the repentance, over time, will become my reality.



August 4: Things I Learned Today: Caterpillars, Semantics & More...



1.)  The fuzzy yellow caterpillars the kids had yesterday?? Ya, DON'T TOUCH THEM. 







They are American Dagger Moth Caterpillars, and although they are pretty, their little hairs are toxic and cause very itchy, red welts. Who knew. Ruby's hand is swollen and sore. I should've Googled it. But now you know, so just look, don't touch.


2.)  Swinging on that porch swing with the kids is one of the most peaceful places in the world. The gentle breeze across my face as I sway back and forth carries all my worries away. I just sit and snuggle my babies, watching the world go by.


3.)  Clayton got in trouble this morning before we left for lunch, and I told him to sit on a chair at the kitchen table and not get up until we were ready to leave. I went upstairs to get dressed and brush my teeth. Not more then a few minutes later, I heard him upstairs with the rest of the kids, laughing and carrying on. I clenched my teeth, finished throwing some clothes on, and opened the bedroom door, saying, "what consequence do you need now because you weren't able to listen?" 

And this is how I found him. He replied that I told him to sit in the chair until it was time to leave, and that's exactly what he was doing. 

This is what I'm up against, you guys. A semantic genius. I apparently need to choose my words Very. Carefully. Lest they be used against me. I covet your prayers.



August 2: You Can't Out-give God, but Do You Try?



I pulled a two-pound container of strawberries out of the refrigerator today to eat with lunch, only to find that most of the berries were covered in mold. I was able to salvage about a quarter of them. The rest of them I threw down the garbage disposal. What a waste. 


I should've gotten them out sooner. 


I shouldn't have let them sit in there so long. 


But an even better solution would've been to give them away when I had the chance. You see, earlier in the week we had gotten out the other container of strawberries to share with the neighbor kids, who were over playing. There was only about a pound left, and they ate through that pretty quickly. Just imagine the Very Hungry Caterpillar, but instead of being small and green with lots of little legs, they are small and dirty with two little legs, but just as hungry. So they smashed the first container and asked if we had any more.


We did, but in my selfish, sinful nature I was having one of those "why do I always have to feed all the children all the time" and "if I give all our fruit away then what are my kids going to eat" kinds of days, and so I said "no." I said that we did, but I wasn't going to get them out right now. 


Because my kids were going to eat them later. 


And I put God into a box and closed the lid and didn't stop to think about how He may want to bless those neighborhood kids who might not get strawberries or healthy snacks at home. I closed the lid and put some packing tape across the top, refusing to give God the opportunity to bless us out of our generosity, to supernaturally provide for all our needs. 


And I put the box on a shelf, where I didn't have to think about it or look at it anymore. And the strawberries sat in the fridge instead of filling up hungry bellies, where they would soon begin to rot. Kind of like your heart does when you hold onto things in this world too tightly. 


Seeing them covered in mold was a good smack in the face and an even better lesson. God doesn't bless us with good gifts so that we can hoard them up for ourselves. So that we can have strawberries in such abundance that they sit in the refrigerator and rot while the rest of the neighborhood starves. He blesses us so that we in turn may bless others. God always provides, but how often do we stop to think that maybe He wants to provide through us?? Through me? Through you?


You can't out-give God, but do we really live like we believe that?? 


May we not be so arrogant and selfish as to put Him in a box, tape it up, and set it on a shelf. God has called us to live generous lives, to love others as ourselves. To feed other kids as I'd feed my own. To give sacrificially, even when the outcome is out of our control. Because then God can step in and do what He does best: make the impossible possible.