On My New Lens

I've decided that without a doubt this concept of standing under grace has caused the single biggest shift of how I live out my faith EVER... like in my entire walk with Christ! I never grasped how fully enslaved to the law I was living.

I got my first pair of glasses when I was 2. Trauma to my head during the process of being born caused damage to my vision. Anyway... every couple of years I had to go back to the eye doctor to make sure I was wearing the correct strength of lenses for my growing eyeballs. I always dreaded that appointment. I really don't know how many times my prescription changed. I didn't keep a tally. What I can tell you is that I hated getting new lenses. I remember clearly leaving the Optical Shop with new glasses. They always felt awkward on my face and more often than not were really blurry until I got used to them.

I feel as if I'm looking at life now through a new lens of grace. I gotta say... it's different. It is a little blurry. I'm not used to it yet. I feel somewhat self-conscious. I feel, though, like it will ultimately provide me the clarity that I have been seeking for a while now.

On Brain Wringage

So... it's fall again. And, as usual, my creativity has peaked. I say every year that I don't know what it is about fall that loosens all of my pent up thoughts. Well, people, they've been loosed.

I've heard several times from songwriters being interviewed that an idea or a melody will come to them and they find themselves scribbling thoughts on napkins, etc. I had one of those really awkward moments this morning in church where my brain began wringing itself out and I quickly had to catch all the thoughts on paper. My hubby guy kept looking over like perhaps I was writing something for him because we are prone to pass notes in church (we're bad, I know). At any rate, I managed to fill up an entire sheet with brain drippings.

I said in a my last post that I feel like a caged animal that has been released. I spoke there about those animals needing a jolt to remind them of what they are and that they are free to be what they are created to be. In the past couple of weeks I do feel like God has "kicked my cage". I can think of four specific conversations with friends where God spoke into my heart.

A song came to mind by Jason Gray called Remind Me Who I Am.  There's a line that says "In the loneliest places, when I can't remember what grace is, Tell me once again who I am to You".    I feel like HE has. And, I remember that I really like who I am. I find it very sad that I allow myself to get caught in "stinkin' thinkin" and start to believe that I'm somehow less than and that God can't use me. I know better.

As I sit here and I look at the paper from church this morning with the greasy brain drippings, I realize the thoughts, though related, aren't necessarily sequential or cohesive. So, I will use them to craft a few different posts. Yay! Blog inspiration.

Are You Kidding Me???

I wrote 2 different blogs just now and erased both of them.

I have SO MUCH on my heart and mind. It's all good stuff.

Last weekend I was introduced to a concept by Beth Moore (God's instrument if there ever was one). The other 2 blogs were my attempts to summarize what I heard. It can't be done.

One of my favorite parts of life as a Christian is being able to spot God's golden thread that I believe links us to one another and to Him. I went to lunch today with a friend of mine. We chatted about all kinds of stuff. I left there so "high on Christ" that I couldn't stop smiling and praising Him.

I went walking with another of my friends this week. I was sharing with her about how I used to feel really solid about my "giftedness" and how I fit in "The Kingdom". Then at some point I began to question all of that. I felt suddenly ineffective and of no value.

Beth talked about God's grace last weekend. She came at it from an odd perspective. She spoke mostly about making a choice between standing under the law or standing under grace. It absolutely shook my foundations. I will shamefully admit that I'm much more comfortable standing under the law because I'm good at legalism. I know what that life is supposed to look like. I'm not sure I know how to just be loved by God without offering my filthy-rags righteousness to Him.

The analogy that came to mind last weekend was that of an injured animal. The animal is captured and taken care of with the intent to set it free. Oftentimes when the caregivers try to release those animals they seem to not want to leave. They have to be jolted to be reminded of what they are. They have to be reminded that they are free to go be what they were created to be.  I feel like I've been in captivity to "lawful living". Though I get that I need to stand under God's grace... I can't fully grasp what that means. Right now I feel like the animal that has been released but is just unsure what to do.

She talked also about "obedient faith". She DID NOT say go live like the world.  I spotted the golden thread Sunday morning when the Pastor Guy at church stood up there and took up right where Beth left off. Collectively, the chins of my girlfriends and I that went hit the floor. Our Pastor Guy had no idea what she talked about. Anyway.. he talked about freedom from the law and what that looks like. He also addressed "obedient faith".  

WUT?! FOR REALZ!!!

What really makes it all crazy to me is that, while we were waiting in line to get into the arena on Saturday, Romans 6:1 just came up in conversation. We were not believing that Beth started right there. And then for Pastor Guy to drive it home... Let me tell ya.... He has my attention.

All week random thoughts from the past year about "how I fit" came flooding back. Conversations that I've had all week have brought all the puzzle pieces to the table. And oh how I love a puzzle!

I feel like I've been reminded of "how I fit". Now I'm working on what to do with that. Oh how I want to run back under the law. This has been my thought all week:   If I choose to remain in captivity, to not claim the freedom that came with my salvation, to stand under the law...... I CANNOT fulfill God's calling on me. God's calling requires HIS supernatural provision that I can only find when I'm standing under grace.   **Mind Blown**

Buggin'

Since I'm on the topic of bugs....and porch sittin'. Hubby Guy and I have been enjoying a new-found sport.

Stink bugs are drawn to one particular screen on the porch. They all seem to end up there. They walk back and forth over and over again.

Hubby Guy had the idea that we should paint little numbers on them with a Sharpie or a paint marker and he could call the races like a baseball announcer. Doesn't that sound entertaining?

On Bug Nostalgia

When Hubby Guy and I were dating we used to sit around for literally hours and talk about stuff.  By the time we got married I felt like I had surely heard all of the best stories. Well, lately we've been spending a good bit of time chillin' on the porch. As is our custom, we sit around and talk about stuff. Well the other day I heard a new story!!

The above little trike ridin' hot shot is my Hubby Guy when he was little. By all accounts he was your classic, all-american, cowboys and indians, baseball playin', up-to-no-good boy. For the record, he hasn't strayed too far from that. :)  Anyway...

We were talking about this summer's forecasted cicada swarm. I was unaware that cicadas swarm every 17 years. Hubby Guy apparently knows full well. I found out that Hubby Guy's father hates cicadas. It remains unclear why exactly he hates them. So... one summer when Hubby Guy was 9 or 10 his father agreed to pay him a penny or nickel per carcass for him to hunt them down and end their little lives with his BB gun. All day while his dad was at work he would do his thing and line up their little carcasses on the sidewalk. When his dad got home he would pay up. 

Before you get all weird about him hunting bugs......

they are pretty big and gross..... and he was a kid.......who really needed money for bubble gum and soda.  

For whatever reason, picturing what that must've looked like cracks me up. 

To this day I still love the sound of cicadas. My grandmother had a grove of trees behind her house. In the summer it always sounded like there were thousands out there. In the evening we would would sit outside and listen to them sing. In the daytime, we would go around and pick abandoned shells off of the trees and then count them. Those were good times.

Hopefully this year's swarm will stay away from Hubby Guy's dad and some will come here to Harrisonburg and sing to me.

On Just the Right Memory at Just the Right Time

There is a particular piece of my life that makes me shake my head when I think about it. When I speak of it I often say that it was when life "crumbled around my ears". I don't know how else to describe it. It was the period of time that it took for my family to completely unravel.

In the midst of it, all I knew was that things were very, very wrong. Very little felt right to me. I felt lost and alone. At the time I did already know God and I think was able to identify His hand on my life. Hindsight is 20/20, though, and now I can really see how well He took care of me during those years.

It's odd to me because I can remember lots of odd facts that don't matter about life, but from the fall of my junior year of high school until my junior year of college my memory is extremely fuzzy. I remember lots of stuff that happened but I can't tell when it occurred during that period of time or in what order it occurred.

At some point during that time... Spring Break of senior year, if I remember correctly, a sweet, sweet couple saw me for the scared kid I was and got involved with my life. I don't know if they even remember what they saw. Whatever it was, they invested. They provided a safe place for me. I can still remember how safe I felt when I was with them. They were a part of my life for a few years. At some point we lost contact. I've wondered about them often throughout the years.

Last week I was relaxing at home and out of nowhere, again, that sweet couple came to mind. I made a note to myself to check Facebook. Within minutes of launching my search the next day, I found them. Yay for reunions with long lost awesome people!

Finding them unleashed a flood of thoughts. One of the first things that came to mind was that, though our arrangement was unofficial, what they provided for me was a lot like foster care. I was in my late teens. My parents weren't really around. I was floating and they provided some emotional stability. I never questioned their care for me. I thought of them as parental figures. I've known that I've wanted to be a foster parent since I was a teen. I absolutely credit them with modeling that notion for me.

I feel like I've been fighting God for a couple years over fostering again. Our fostering experiences have been REALLY HARD. For a while I felt cured of the drive to foster. Our journey with our girls continues to be difficult at times. I can readily think of a handful of legitimate reasons why it isn't time to foster again. But, recently I've gotten confirmation after confirmation that I need to stop making excuses. Finding that amazing couple and remembering what they were to me during that difficult time in my life has been yet another "sign".

I always say I want a giant neon sign from God. This time I think I've gotten it.

On The Fairy Tale Paradigm of Life Planning

I had a conversation with a friend recently about the stage of life where we find ourselves.

Beginning in the garden the stage was set. A girl was made for a guy. So, inherently, the story throughout the ages has been built on that notion. We're made for marriage. Our job is family. Little girls dream of the hunky guy, dream wedding, beautiful children, etc. Somewhere along the line we are duped into believing that's all life is about.

I don't really remember how old I was when I began considering my "future family". I do know that I considered it. From somewhere came a mental timeline. At some point I made a promise to my mother that I would not get married before I graduated from college. My timeline was always high school-college (at least a Bachelor's degree)-marriage-children. Since I promised my mother I would wait until after college, I spotted myself a couple of years and decided that I would likely be married by the time I was 24.

My fairy tale didn't happen the way I had planned it. When I was 24 I felt like a total loser. Although I had a college degree, I hadn't found my prince. That launched a very emotionally rocky time in my life. As the years passed I felt more and more like life had just passed me by. In those days I always felt like I had been shoved off of a moving merry-go-round. Everyone else was still merrily spinning and I was left shocked standing on the sidelines watching.

The very sad part about following the fairy tale paradigm of life planning is that I believe it doesn't address something very important. We are so focused on the husband, kids, and white picket fence that we forget to nurture our God given talents and abilities. No one ever asked me as a girl what I wanted to accomplish in life. No one ever asked me about my dreams.No one ever asked me about or nurtured by talents. My primary concern was familyhood. I was made to feel less-than because I hadn't achieved it.

My friend told me that she has everything she's ever wanted and is starting to realize that she's not fulfilled. She loves her Hubby and her kids. She feels blessed, educated, and successful. She just feels like perhaps God made her for more than just the fairy tale. I totally understand that feeling. I'd be willing to wager that lots of women feel that way. We bought the notion that the fairy tale was a primary concern when perhaps it should have been a secondary or even tertiary priority.

I feel super fortunate to have married later in life. I'm super happy too that God hijacked my fairy tale. I married Superman and God graciously allowed me to skip the diaper phase of my children's lives. In a way, I had time that lots of girls don't get to consider those things that God made me to do. I wish I could say with confidence that I have accomplished a lot of it. I have accomplished some of it. I believe that my marriage is a part of God's plan. I'm certainly not saying that marriage and family is a bad thing. I'm merely lamenting that    even good things can often be hindrances to God's ability to use us.