Because Today is a Great Day to Worship

Because today I choose to worship.

  It's the surest way

I know 

to lift myself

out of my circumstances 

and see 

the bigger picture.

His great name

is all 

I need

to know.

 

When One Wishes To Be Hands And Feet

We load the buses, all 80+ of us, piled in to go and be the hands and feet.

We drive through the city, through the filth, and through all the people hurrying to all their places, places of importance and busyness and places we all have to be.

I am with the girls and the sound of laughter fills the bus as they beg passing truckers to give a honk.  And oh, the peals of laughter and cheers and satisfaction that come from just one seeing and hearing their pleas.

The bus drops us at a concrete warehouse.  No fancy signs, no impressive doors.  Just a simple, unassuming warehouse, like all the others. One simple sign points the way.  Easy to miss, if one isn't searching.

We go into the place where the boxes reach the ceiling, towers of treasure for those in desperate need, and she begins to tell the story of what we are to pack.  Sadly, all too often, it is American greed and disregard for the law that brings all this here, and now what was meant for evil is given for good.  We trim tags, stamp goods and pile boxes with scrubs bound for Africa.

  They are to be the wardrobe of the surrendered, those who have heard and answered the call.  Robes for the righteous.  A sign to the community that healing has come.

 

 They come with medicine and deliver Hope to the global poor, sick, and oppressed.  Hope for body and soul. The healers are all they may ever know of Him.  They go hut to hut to hut to love on those dying with Aids and extend compassion to those with HIV and cry with mamas grieving over children gone and men broken over all that has been shattered.  They wipe tears of deepest grief.

They come with healing hands and a message to Africa that God has not forgotten them.  He sees their suffering.  He sees their famine.  He sees their death and disease.  And He weeps with them.

 And here, around the work table I hear the chatter of cherubim, the conversations of young girls thanking God for providing these scrubs for the healers and thanking God for their own good fortune.  And deep in my heart I whisper thanks as well.  Thanks for my good life and full cupboards and clean water and HIS GRACE and the list goes on and on....

It is here, around the worktable in the concrete store room that holds our waste and greed and not good enough, that I feel one tear slide down my cheek and carve a canyon through my heart.  I am doing what I can, for today.  But what about tomorrow?  And the day after that, and the day after that?  What can I do from here to help there?  Anywhere really. 

And I know the answer lies in His Book, the place where my manna lies waiting to be gathered for the day.  For if I haven't yet gathered, how can I give?  

I come home and curl up in sunshine patch all warm on couch and search His Word and find this:

"...... to walk in all his ways, to obey his commands, to hold fast to him, and to serve him with all your heart and all your soul. " {Joshua 22:5}

Coffee and Such

Good Monday morning y'all!

 I sure wish we could all meet for coffee today.

There is so much on my mind that I would love to chat over with you.

Like how the protestors on Wall Street would be much better served by putting down their signs and going back to work and doing something with their brains to make their lives better.  Or how about just getting over all the complaining and feelings of entitlement in general??  Life is not fair.  Never has been, never will be.  What I do know for sure is that no one ever made their lives better by parking their fanny in the middle of the street and refusing to move.  Far as I know, all that gets you is an arrest record.

Or we could chat about how a lesbian couple in California is giving their SON hormone blockers to delay puberty so that HE might decide which gender HE might like to be, down the road.  By the way, this BOY is 11.  Seems like that decision was made at birth by Someone who knows far better than we do.  Shame on the physician allowing this to happen.

Or we could chat about how this weekend went waaaay too fast and I can't believe that it is already Monday and ohmygoodness what am I going to make for dinner??  And the age old question: to bleach or not to bleach?  Use a color safe bleach or just spot treat?  Oh my word!  The laundry choices are endless.  For heaven's sake, what did our ancestors do??

This is life changing, riveting stuff, people.

Instead of all that, how about I leave you with a recipe for a little cup of homemade goodness, a.k.a. the Pumpkin Spice latte.  I bet it is cheaper to make this at home than fork over loads of cash at fourbucks Starbucks.

Pumpkin Spice Latte

{yummy, yummy}

 3 cups hot whole milk

4 tsp. white sugar

2 Tbsp. canned pumpkin

1/2 tsp. vanilla extract

1/2 tsp. pumpkin pie spice

6 ozs. double-strength brewed coffee

sweetened whipped cream

*optional - autumn sprinkles or nutmeg

In saucepan

combine milk, pumpkin,

and sugar.

Cook over medium heat,stirring,until steaming.

Remove from heat,

stir in vanilla and spices.

Transfer to a blender and process for 15 seconds.

Top with whipped cream

and sprinkles or nutmeg

and

ENJOY!

Five Minute Friday: Catch

I'm linking up with Lisa Jo again today.  Join me?

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We have this lovely little book

tucked away on our bookshelves, 

just waiting to be read 

every Fall.

 

It is a sweet little story about a fox named Fletcher,

who spends his days running around

trying to catch all the leaves falling from his favorite tree. 

He doesn't want the tree to change.

  He loves it just the way it is.

  I find that to be true of my life as well. 

I love each of the stages my kids are in 

and I find myself running around during the day

just trying to catch a glimpse of where they are

and what they are doing so that I might

tuck it away in my heart

to look back on when we are in a different season of life.

  I had one of those moments yesterday 

as I straightened Luke's tie on his tuxedo 

and helped him with his cuff links, a new experience for both of us, 

before heading out to his first high school band concert.

  All of a sudden he looked so grown up 

 and I caught a glimpse

of who this very wonderful young man will someday be. 

I caught a glimpse of Grace's 

never- ending compassion and care for others

as she helped Daniel pack up his lunch box and backpack

so he wouldn't be late for school.

  And I caught a glimpse of  Daniel's sweetness

at the concert last night

as he sought out a much older friend of Luke's

just to tell him how well

he performed in the concert

and give him a big hug.

I am so thankful to catch each and every one of theses glimpses into my kids' hearts and lives!

*************************************************************************************

Mental Exhaustion: My Constant Companion

"The most important work you and I will ever do will be within the walls of our own homes." 

Harold B. Lee

I have no idea who  Mr. Harold B. Lee is, but I believe he has hit the nail on the head.  Thank you Mr. Harold B. Lee for pointing out that the great and grand calling of motherhood is one that reaches many generations past our own, and to never underestimate the power of home and someone deeply committed to it. 

OK - maybe I read a little more in to that quote than was intended, but maybe not. 

I had the pleasure of co-hosting a baby shower for my sister-in-law this past weekend and among the attendees were a few of her friends and their two-year-olds.   I used to think that having small children was stressful.  The bathing, crying, whining, feeding and clean up would wear me to a frazzle at times.  The hauling, buckling, and dressing was enough to render me useless by 4:00 pm.  I remember saying to myself, "this will be so much easier when they are older."

Have you ever wanted to travel back in time and shake your self silly?  I mean really give yourself some good, forceful taps on your cheeks and shout, "get a grip, sister!"?  Have mercy, I had no clue what was coming!

For as children grow, a change or transition happens.  You will trade physical exhaustion for mental exhaustion.

I think you all know me well enough by now that you know how deeply and dearly I love my children.  Mine is a job I would never trade: the incredible honor of having people call me mom, the investing, growing and nurturing future generations puts me over the moon and it is a job I am thrilled and blessed to do.

I am as confident as can be that I have invested wisely in the rearing of my kids.  Have I made a few mistakes along the way?  ABSOLUTELY!!  I don't think anyone leaves the battlefield of motherhood without a scar or two and a lesson or 12 well learned.  So, my fatigue doesn't come from wishing I had done more or lamenting over past mistakes.  It comes from something else entirely.

As my kids grow, and the leash of freedoms extends with each passing year, I realize that their choices are their own.  I have less and less control with each of their birthdays.  In some ways this is a relief - I am passing the baton of responsibility on to them.  In other ways, it is paralyzingly frightening.  You see, I cannot build the security of my identity as a mom on the fragility of their choices.  Let me say that again, even if for my benefit alone, I cannot build the security of my identity as a mom on the fragility of their choices.

The one thing that I have found to help combat the fatigue of mental exhaustion is this: PRAYER.  Not just situational prayer, but a few solid, core prayers that I will be praying over them until I go to be with my Father.

1.}  I pray that they will be one of the most godly people of their generation, that when people look at them, they see Him.

2.}  I pray they get caught when they make wrong choices.  There is no better teacher than natural consequences and no better way to nip a bad habit or choice in the bud, that to get caught doing it.

3.}  I pray {especially at this stage of parenting} that they are saved from the wrong friends and mates, so that they may be saved for the right friends and mate.

4.}  This is a hard one and requires much courage: {I'm even closing my eyes as I type this}  I pray for God alone to be the author of their testimonies.

Whew!  Simple, necessary and kinda scary, at times!  How about you?  What do you pray for your kids?

Blessings,

{K}