The Day I Stopped Caring

Like a good little American girl, I've always been conscious about my weight. And because I'm more naturally conceited than I'd like to admit, I also kept tabs on other peoples' opinions of my looks. But you know what? By God's beautiful grace, I've stopped caring. Don't get me wrong, the struggle is real. And every day I have to decide all over again not to allow pride to dictate my life. The world likes to tell me exactly how much more in-shape and stylish this post-pregnancy body should be. But My Savior loved me too much to allow me to stay in that comparison, food-loving, food hating, self-loathing, guilt-ridden, self-worship cycle. 

So I've decided not to do my hair and makeup ever again.

I'm TOTALLY KIDDING. You were worried for a second, weren't you? 

But seriously...

I'm feeling transparent here...and a little vulnerable...but I'm gonna share with you some of the liberating Truths that He has been teaching my soul. I'm embarrassed at how simple these Truths are considering how long it has taken me to understand them. Forgive my simplicity.

1. Every body type is different. And how can I criticise an ingenious, creative designer? He is a lover of variety.

"...O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?" Rom. 9:20

2. Physical health is important, but for a completely different reason than the tabloids teach. My body isn't for my glory. And my motivation matters to My Master.

"Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God." 1 Cor. 10:31

"For ye are bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God's." 1 Cor. 6:20

3. There are no evil foods. In our low-carb, skinny latte culture it's easy to assume certain foods are "good" and others are "evil." 

"Not that which goeth into the mouth defileth a man; but that which cometh out of the mouth, this defileth a man." Matt. 15:11

4. What I eat or don't eat doesn't make me more acceptable to God. In a different context, Paul explained that food has nothing to do with our standing with God. Us Christian girls somehow tend to write a spiritual version of the Skinny Culture Rules. And just like any other form of legalism, we end up living under a massive load of self-imposed guilt.

"But meat commendeth us not to God: for neither, if we eat, are we the better; neither, if we eat not, are we the worse." 1 Cor. 8:8

5. Because of the power of the cross, I can choose who my master will be today. And every day, I must choose Jesus. He doesn't ask me to love myself. He tells me to love HIMself. 

"Know ye not, that to whom ye yield yourselves servants to obey, his servants ye are to whom ye obey..." Rom. 6:16

6. Correct motivation, wisdom for daily health and a holy understanding of what moderation actually is are only possible when I'm controlled by the Holy Spirit. Seriously, I've tried all of this in my own strength and failed. The only things I got out of the situation were pride and guilt. Both of which make life feel empty.

"This I say then, Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lust of the flesh." Gal. 5:16

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance [self control]: against such there is no law." Gal. 5:22-23

One day I sat down and wrote out a list of all the people whose opinions mattered to me with regards to how I looked. My list was long (told you I'm naturally conceited). I got down on my knees with the list and gave all that pride to God and asked Him to renew and control my mind. Then I ripped the list to shreds. 

God is faithful.

The other day I actually put on makeup for the purpose of trying to highlight the joy and freedom I felt in my heart. That's a first for me. It's one of the great paradoxes of Christianity. In death to ourselves, there is joy and liberty in Jesus.

"O taste and see that The Lord is good..." Ps. 34:8

Oh girls, He is SO good.

When the Coffee Doesn't Cut It

Hey Girls,

It happened again. The kids went to sleep early and I saw the chance to be my own master of my time! I knew I should have gone to bed at 8:30 but that still feels so old. Besides, nighttime is the only quiet time we mamas know, right? So I stayed up until...ready for it? Whopping 11:00P.M.

Little Ace was up early (teething...why aren't babies born with teeth?). Now I'm exhausted. And the coffee didn't do its job.

I knew it was bad when I was in tears before 8am and my preschooler (sweetly) informed me that I should just "stay here" while he and Daddy went out this morning. *facepalm*

Whats the answer for days like this? Mornings when the coffee doesn't work?

Grace.

I don't have the strength for the day. Good news, we were never told to "be strong enough." So many people love to say, "God won't give me more than I can handle." OR "God must think I'm strong to give me something like this." Where in the world do we get that idea?

Didn't the Master say (ever so lovingly), "I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing." (John 15:5) ?

So again, the pressure's off. I don't even have to be strong enough. He NEVER said that I had to be strong.

Here's what He did say: "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." (Phil. 4:13).

He's the vine. I'm the branch. He's the life; He's the substance; He's the strength (for little dilemmas and big trials, too). I'm just gonna surrender, and dwell deep in the vine today...infused by His life, HIS strength.

WebRep

currentVote

noRating

noWeight

Mundane matters...

I'm pretty sure people think my life is outrageously exciting. After all, how many white girls live in Asia? And on top of that, how many white girls raise kids in Asia? I'm sorry to burst the long-loved stereotype; but my life is pretty normal. Here's how it goes:

I drag myself out of bed. (I don't understand those completely obnoxious morning-loving people). I stumble to the coffee maker (and have trouble making coffee because everybody knows you can't make coffee before drinking coffee...why is that?!). Once I've  successfully made my "perfect cup" I may be in time enough to kiss my hubby before he heads off to work. The kids are already up, of course. But they aren't just awake; they're running. Running through the entire apartment. I try to string together a coherent sentence that will magically bring order to the situation....but unfortunately, I haven't had my coffee yet because its still too hot to drink. So I sit down and resign myself to the fact that the kids will continue to run wild for the next 15 minutes. The other option, of course, is Curious George (George and I are first-name-basis kind of friends).

Coffee finished...breathe in grace...sentence prayers...order established (for the next 5 minutes, anyway...).

Somehow the kids end up dressed and fed. My day is full of cleaning, tidying, washing clothes (and then wishing I had time to fold them). I've also mastered the 2-minute shower (I'm serious)! And because I know you're wondering, yes, I do shave every day. My Bible app reads life-giving words to me while I braid my hair in preparation for the 18389573526285 degree weather.

We giggle, play, correct misbehavior, sing, pick up toys, nap, cook, clean, hug, correct more misbehavior, mend boo-boos...

The house isn't spotless, but its generally tidy. My meals aren't Pinterest-creative, but they're edible. And the last hour before Michael gets home from the office is basically ETERNITY ILLUSTRATED (see photo below). 

Daddy arrives home to  be greeted by a frazzled remnant of his once very put-together college girlfriend (me, in case you're wondering...). He kisses my cheek, hugs the kids and joins in the team-effort to survive and thrive til bedtime. 

Now, add some language classes (and major language mistakes), cultural differences, power outages and bacteria-ridden tap water-type challenges and there you have it...my life. 

And I wouldn't change a thing. You know why? Because it all matters. Because of the cross, my life matters. So does yours. My life happens to be one with a husband and kids. Yours may look very different than mine. But we are women. God wired us to be extravagant love-givers. And when its Jesus' love that floods our hearts to overflowing, that love is going to pour out into the mundane world around us and change lives for all eternity. I want my little boys' lives to be transformed by the love of God. And get this miracle of miracles, sister...He wants me to be the channel of His love into their young lives. I'm not looking to make history books. I just want Him to love through me. 

So girls - the pressure's off. We don't change the world. He does it through us...He loves the world through our mundane.  Relax. Drink deep from the well of grace. He's enough.

It was easy to love Him when my world was neat and clean. It was simple, sitting in my old brick Ranch, complete with porch swing and lush yard. When the church building sat just across the way; full of smiling faces and hugs from friends. Counting blessings was a light task with the mountains turning colors out my windows. When I sat in the middle of everything familiar. Everything comfortable.

Then it happened. The stripping away of things familiar. Remembering the way things once were. It wasn't so much the missing of particular things, but the missing of familiarity. The raging desire for anonymity. 

Realization: Frailty and weakness, my frame. Self-sufficiency, my bent. Joylessness, my choice.

Still, He waited. 

The realization of my own utter impossibility gave way to Abundant Living.

Savior, Sustainer, Sanctifier. 

I am nothing. He is...

Simply, Everything

WebRep

currentVote

noRating

noWeight

Several things I love about South Asia...

1. Hospitality: We Americans have such a tendency to "meet and eat" at restaurants. Of course, there is generally good reason...we save lots of TIME and ENERGY. We value these savings, since the culture itself mercilessly demands those two things. But I find the general joy to entertain guests very refreshing. Here the emphasis is on relationships, not time. And while I sometimes have to shut the little frustrated beeping stop-watch up inside me...I am happy to experience a place that emphasizes friendship over punctuality.

2. Spicy Foods: I am sorry to disappoint, but mild salsa in a Mexican restaurant does NOT qualify as "spicy food." ;-)

3. Produce: I don't buy my vegetables and fruits in a supermarket. They are sold fresh on my street every day...at a good price!

4. Women's Clothing: I've gladly traded in my blue jeans and button up blouses for long, tunic tops and comfy, light weight pants.

5. Thrifty shopping: Don't like the price? Barter a little. 

6. Less-stress on punctuality: Traffic is bad (notice its NOT on my list of things I love)....so if you're a little late, its simply no big deal. 

7. Floor cleaning: There is a drain in my kitchen and bathroom floors. Spill something in the kitchen? No biggie. Just pour some floor cleaner and fresh water down and squeegee towards the drain. Voila! 

8. The cultural adoration for children: My son is never a bother. His cheeks are often stroked by passers-by and the people are very understanding towards the little (and sometimes big) mistakes toddlers make. 

9. Chai: I ADORE you, Starbucks, but Chai doesn't come in a teabag.

10. Chinese food: Haha....seriously, I've never found a Chinese restaurant in America that beats the ones over here. Its SO yummy! :) 

Don't get me wrong, here. I love my home country. I'm a patriot. And I am also not blinded to the many problems and inconsistencies you can find in EVERY society. Culture shock has violently BEAT down my door on some days. But I am learning something very important: just because my home country does something one way doesn't mean its necessarily the RIGHT way. Much of culture is preference and familiarity.

After all, if we were all the same wouldn't the world be boring? 

the Excited Savior

In 21 days we're getting on an airplane for 14 hours to relocate (for work) to the other side of the world. With all the packing and sorting, tossing and storing, my mind is always busy. And, if I'm not careful, anxious. So before I went to bed last night I sat at His feet and asked for something fresh from Him.

What in the world could encourage and calm my heart more than His smile? In the particular passage I read, I found Him happy....excited....and in fact, leaping up and down for joy. Doubt it? Read on....

Luke 10:21 says, "In that hour Jesus rejoiced in spirit..."

The word "rejoiced" in this verse is translated from the Greek word, antalliao, meaning "to exult, leap for joy, to show one's joy by leaping and skipping, denoting excessive or ecstatic joy and delight." 

"Could the word simply mean He rejoiced in His heart? Possibly, but the essence of the word agalliao is when chara (rejoicing, gladness) gets physical." (Moore)

So, with His smile, His pleasure, His uncontainable joy bubbling over....

with these thoughts....

I put my head on the pillow and fell into a peaceful sleep. 

The Quiet Place

"The white noise of humming traffic; a wood saw in the neighbor's garage; birds chirping softly; a buzzing bee; rustling of the bushes; crunching of leaves by a hidden little critter; the scratching noise of my jacket against the paper as pen glides across page; the creaking of the porch swing rocking back and forth...


It is here that He finds me today. 'Find' is perhaps the wrong word. I will just be honest. He has known where I have been every moment of the day. But it is here where I have paused to listen to the voice that is always speaking softly, tenderly to me. What does He say, you ask?


It is our quiet place. It is, therefore, our secret. "

Away in an UGLY manger...

Our Christmas tree was always beautiful. Lit with white lights and decorated with handmade kiddy ornaments. My little sister's green, red and white crochet string wound up each layer like a soft-serve ice cream cone. Since we didn't have a mantel, our stockings hung on the knobs of an antique cabinet to the right of the tree.

One year, Kim & I found a literal manger: a rough feeding trough that Daddy had built to put out for the deer. Retired now, it sat in the kindling pile. We pulled that tall, gray, ugly thing to the house and filled it with hay from the barn.  My parents let us bring it INSIDE. We dragged it across the carpet in the living room and set it to the right of the tree (in front of our pretty little stockings). The scene was then completed with a baby doll wrapped up in random bits of fabric.

A tall, crude manger: the focal point of the room. That Christmas forever changed the way I looked at the Christmas story. And now that its Christmas time, may the manger be the focal point of my heart.

I'll always be thankful for a Mom & Dad who let Jesus be the center of our family's Christmas.

(from the movie: The Nativity)

remember to remember

I look out the window. It's a cool autumn day in southern Wisconsin. Scattered amidst the tall pine trees are bursts of color. Yellow, orange, red. Leaves lie scattered like confetti on the rich, green grass. The sky is a calm gray. A gentle breeze blows, rocking the forest to sleep. My soul takes a deep breath. I remember the Creator.

Back now to the duties of the day. Off to chase my little son, iron clothes and wash dishes. But I must remember to be still. To take those soul-breath moments. I must remember to remember Him all day long.

"Remember now thy creator..." (Ecclesiates 12:1)

Selah.

Joys From my Daily Day...

strength for contentment

The intentional act of remembering His goodness brings heavenly perspective to my life. His benefits are all around me. May I always be a blessing-counter.

But contentment isn't something that I must pull out my own strength. Good thing, too, 'cause I just don't have any strength without Jesus. In fact, to rely on myself for joy isn't just futile, its sinful. For, "whatsoever is not of faith is sin."

All that to say, there is strength for contentment! We all love Philippians 4:13, "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." But let's look close.....it's in the context of contentment. 


Paul says -

"Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. I know both how to be abased and I know how to abound: every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to suffer need."

Ok, that's a big statement. So how did he do it? How was he contented in EVERY situation?
Next verse -

"I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me."

There it is. Strength for contentment.

At the risk of sounding like a self-proclaimed martyr, let me share from the heart. Due to our occupation, we live a life on the road. And though I don't care to admit it, sometimes this gypsy life gets to me. I never thought I needed "roots." I never thought traveling all the time would ever both me. But sometimes it just does. I didn't know my own weakness. And if I am not careful, the desire for a home of my own can become an idol of my heart. Comparison kills contentment. Why shouldn't I always be content with taking my shoes off for a while and resting in a borrowed home? Even the son of God had a borrowed tomb. 

But there is hope for me. There is joy for me in Christ. There is STRENGTH for contentment. Every day its there. Every day Jesus holds it out to me. Will I take it?

Beautiful strength, heavenly strength. Christ's own resurrection strength...for my contentment.

Hallelujah.

Blessing Counting:

this beautiful home to stay in

as always, thankful for this lil' guy

for laughter & hugs

the Word of God

and today, I'm especially thankful for Psalm 107

for the love of my life

home on the road

stroller rides with Mommy in new neighborhoods

"helping" mom & dad pack up for the next destination

little stow-away

sacked out in the back seat

A little organization and "housework" makes me feel a little more at home...

whatever "kitchen" I have, it HAS to be clean

we made it! now its playtime!

listen to the tone of my voice!

My little son doesn't speak English (other than "Mama"). In fact, he really doesn't understand the meaning of many words at all. And somehow, we communicate. I got to thinking, what is it that he understands? It's evident that we communicate with one another all day long. How do we demonstrate our love for one another? 

I talk to him just as though he knows exactly what I am saying. But in reality, all he understands is the tone of my voice, the look on my face and the touch of my hands. This is thought-provoking. May I never forget that his precious little ears are listening. My tone communicates volumes. 

What will I communicate through my tones today? He may not know what I'm saying on the phone as I drive along, when I'm talking to my husband, or even when I'm alone and talking to myself (don't judge...you do it too!). But my son will hear how I say what I say. 

Will it be a tone of gossip? Of discontentment? Of anger? Frustration? Irritation? Worry? Fear? Doubt? Strife?

Or will it be a tone that's gracious, kind, joyful, loving, thoughtful, thankful, edifying, trusting and peaceful? 

May the words of my mouth and the tone of my voice reflect the love of Christ to my sweet little son today. Jesus, may the intonation be yours alone. 

seaside and autumn

Seaside

We stood on the shore today, our little family. Just a enough time to enjoy the breeze, feel the sand between my toes, and gaze at the gray-blue vastness. To think. He spoke. And it simply existed. Selah.

Small Boy's sense of wonder, his love of life and spirit of adventure spilled over in his smile. The whisper of the surf and the salty breeze were the background vocals supporting his cheerful little laugh.

We smile. My heart gives thanks for the love of God.

Autumn

Accelerated pulse, pounding feet, swooshing hair. It felt good to jog.

Squirrels spastically gathering acorns, children laden down with school supplies slowly plodding home from school, and the random man out walking an inquisitive black lab. The change of leaves from green to red, the kiss of autumn in the air, harvest pumpkins and eery decorative spider webs. The hint of a wood stove teases me. Who would have thought the smell of a smokey stove would cause such a happy sigh?

"While the earth remaineth, seedtime and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease." (Gen. 8:22)

Thank you, Lord, for the familiarity of the harvest.

stuck-at-home mom?

Ever feel that way? It just dawned on me today that I haven't really gone anywhere at all for over three days. I do promise that those days were not been spent in my pajamas, leisurely eating bon-bons. Now that I'm a stay-at-home mommy I am busier now then I ever was working a "real job."


There's a temptation to complain sometimes. Maybe the temptation to be complacent? Apathetic? Or maybe just throw a pity party. You understand, ladies...especially you mom's out there with multiple kiddos...


Mounds of dirty laundry, snotty noses, dirty diapers, dirty dishes, mounds of clean laundry and toys all over the living room floor. There are bottles to wash, carpets to vacuum, trash to take out, sinks to wipe down and toilets to clean. 


But stop.
Each moment is fleeting. The clothes will wear, dishes will break, fibers will fade and the toys will all be packed away some day. Before we know it there will be no more bottles to clean. And then some day...no kids left in the house to clean up after.


Satan would have us be depressed over the relentless march of time. He would have us so focused on the future that he would rob us of the here and now. The One who came that we "might have life" and that we "might have it more abundantly" would have us be thankful, recognizing each moment as a precious gift from Him. Each moment is fleeting. That is true. But each moment is MY moment. Its MY gift from Him to be used for His glory. You can't have my moments. And dear friends, I can't have yours. 


Let's take time to laugh with our little ones, play games and run races. Blowing raspberries and tickling tummies is a heavenly business. May we resolve to live as Christian women should: filled with thankfulness in each moment. 


So yes, we're "stuck-at-home moms." So what? We've been given the gift of embracing the 1,440 minute-gifts He's given us each and every day. Come on, ladies - let's live abundantly!

a forgiven daughter of Eve

It happened again. I allowed my heart to wander from the One who cherishes me more than I could ever comprehend. Several days with a closed Bible and now a feeling of shameful emptiness. A loving tug at my heartstrings brings me back to His feet and there is peace...there is humility...there is joy. His forgiveness is astounding. Oh, how beautiful the Crimson River that washes sin away!


How can it be that God would desire communion with the likes of me? I was once the fallen daughter of Eve, now saved and made to stand by the blood of the only begotten Son of God. This blood makes me (Wonder of wonders!) the daughter God. And as His daughter He desires constant communion. Its awe-inspiring that the King of Kings would find joy in my laughter and pleasure at the sound of my meager offering of praise. The One who effortlessly measures the vastness of the galaxies with the span of His hand has condescended in love to me.


This is my story....this is my song...


Jesus, help me praise you all the day long!

(photo obtained through google images - website womeninthebible.net)

fall & family