A New Day

It started with a misunderstanding. I thought Rick had changed Zach, and Rick thought I had. Poor little Zach was stuck in his overnight diaper until 9 am which is when I finally caught the mistake. By then it was too late. His diaper had truly exploded.

Fellow moms and I have talked of exploding diapers before, but that was pure ignorance speaking. Now I KNOW what an exploding diaper is. It reminded me of my high school chemistry class. Something about super-saturated liquids. You know, when they get so full everything becomes crystalized in an instant. Or was it something about solids not being able to hold the liquid? Okay, so I don't remember chemistry class so well. The point is: this was a science project gone horribly wrong.

I wiped off as much of the "project mess" that I could and dropped Zach directly into the tub. He wasn't thrilled. This is the first time he had ever been in the real tub. Up to this point, we have always used the baby tub, but no time to set that up now. My little guy sat stark naked in this huge tub, scared to death and screaming. My first thought: "Get Ellie to make him happy." So, I stripped down the girl and threw her in there too. Now they're both screaming. Oh well. They both need a bath! It will just be a very loud bath. Dump in the toys and start the water. Within minutes, Zach realized he could splash there just like in the pool. He loved it! Once he was happy, Ellie was too. It was so much fun watching them play together.

And just like that we've entered a new stage of parenthood. Without even knowing it, I have ushered Zachary to the next milestone. Should I be rejoicing or mourning? The baby tub can now be packed away where the bouncey seat and swing have gone. Another box of too-small clothes get shipped off to charity ... my little guy is not so little anymore. It's a new day.

changes on the site

Hey folks. I've had to make some changes on the site. If you are looking for something that you think you may have seen here, but can't find it now, just contact me directly. We'll see if I can get it to you. In the meantime, please be patient with me. I'll explain more later.

On another note: there is a cricket somewhere in my kitchen. I cannot find him and he is driving me CRAZY!!! I can't think. All I hear is the incessent "singing" of a cricket. Ugh. So much for today's quiet.

Here am I, Lord.

Another gorgeous day. The sun warmed my neck and the cool breeze kissed my hair. As every other day, I strapped the kids in their carseats – these kids whom I never dreamed I would have – into the very minivan I dreaded to get. Ellie sang another tale; I can’t remember what. Then she smiled, her cobalt eyes screaming all the sweetness God made in her.

Yes, I am undeniably domestic. I live in a little house in the suburbs with my two children. We’re missing the white picket fence, but we’ve got the minivan, the stay-at-home mom, the friends, the backyard … the perfect life. I am living a dream!

I climbed into the driver seat praising God for this van, for this home, for these kids, for my life. I am the richest woman on the planet! I turned the key. The cd player and the van started simultaneously.

“I can feel Your presence here with me.
Suddenly, I’m lost within Your beauty;
Caught up in the wonder of Your touch.
Here in this moment I surrender to Your love.” *

How does God know how I feel? How can He put on the exact song that I need? I want to praise Him! I want to wrap my arms around His holy feet and thank Him for all that He does. I want to plead forgiveness for my ingratitude and my arrogance. I want Him to know all that I cannot express. And He, in His perfect mercy, places the perfect words on my stereo so that I may simply sing along.

I did not want this house. I did not want this van. I abhorred the very thought of living in New Jersey. Here am I, Lord. I treasure this house. I feel blessed with this van. And I love living here! I love my life. You certainly have a sense of humor. I praise You for seeing beyond me and giving me all that I never knew I always wanted. You are so good to me.

* Song lyrics taken from Mercy Me, "Undone" album, c. 2004 WordSpring Music, Inc.

Lord, help me to pray.

Is it strange to ask for help on something you’re already doing at the time? Like, if you’re already riding a bike, is it okay to ask for help learning to ride a bike?

The other day I made a list of goals for my writing. I truly feel this is something God wants me to pursue. If, in fact, He does, then I need to give it my all. Hence, the goals to make sure I stay on track and can measure how I’m doing. One of the goals I set for myself was to pray about my writing every day. It should be my easiest goal to accomplish. I mean, it has to be easier to pray than to sell a book proposal – right? Yet, for some reason it has manifested itself as the most difficult goal to keep. Why is that?

I long to be a prayer warrior. Some people seem naturally perfect pray-ers. They have no trouble spending hours praying for any and every thing that comes to mind. Me? I have trouble praying for a solid two minutes. Oh, God is always on my mind. I think of Him and His purposes for me all the time. But to truly sit and pray … to meditate on His Word and humbly bring my requests before Him … this is one of the hardest skills for me to learn.

It wasn’t always this way. In college I would spend hours pouring my heart out to God. I walked with Him. That may seem an arrogant statement. Who walks with God? Well, Abraham walked with God. Noah walked with God. David walked with God. I certainly do not claim to be in the ranks of such righteous men. At the same time, I can think of no other way to describe my relationship with Him at that time. It was awesome! Every thought that came to me was instantly spoken as a prayer to my Creator. We had a constant dialog – as I walked to classes, when I ate, while I worked, even when chatting with friends. There was a constant awareness of His presence with me; beside me. What happened?

Have you experienced a change in your walk with God? Perhaps like me, you were close at one time, but now are little more than distracted. How do we fix this? Of course, we know the answers: we spend more time studying His Word and we spend more time praying. I am trying, but isn't working. Even when I dedicate time to pray, my mind is constantly wandering. Lists are being formed, dialogs rehearsed, impressions predicted … none of this should be invading my prayer time! Yet it does. It is beyond frustrating. God, help me to pray! I seem to have forgotten how …

I feel so inadequate as a child of God. Sometimes I view my life and see only a shadow of what I was to become. God, please help me to be what you created me to be. Help me to pray.

Like Father, Like Daughter

“Therefore, be imitators of God, as beloved children …” -- Ephesians 5:1

As I sat at the kitchen table sorting mail, Isabel entered the room. She announced her presence with loud, clumsy steps in Daddy’s shoes and a low voice, a voice I had never before heard from this two-year-old: “Hello, Mommy! Are you my friend?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Alright, so her voice was a little off, the shoes were way too big, and her father never calls me “Mommy.” But other than that, she was pretty on with her portrayal. Isabel knows that Daddy’s voice is lower than hers and mine. She knows those are his shoes. On top of that, she hears her parents repeatedly confess they are each other’s best friends.

This is not the only time Isabel has imitated us. She hears everything – as most toddlers do. When my tongue slipped, she walked around the rest of the day yelling “Oh, crap!” to all her toys. Whenever playing with the phone, she must pace – just like her mama. Whenever Rick is watching baseball, she yells “Go Yankees!” regardless of what team is playing. She watches us cook and clean and eat and visit and laugh. She notices every detail and is quick to imitate them, usually with surprising accuracy. She’s a natural.

If Isabel spent all her time with someone else, she may have very different behaviors. Oh, some of it is natural, of course. She does have our genes, but this girl is learning from us. She is watching our example – be it good or bad – and she is copying it. She is fashioning her behavior after ours. All this she could not do without having spent time with us. If she only saw her father once a week, she may not know that he loves to read and watch baseball. In order to be good imitators, time is required.

In the same way, if we want to be imitators of Christ, we must spend time with Him. We must study Him in the same way children study their parents. Once a week is not enough. We must know His character before we can replicate it in our lives. Time is required. Learning another’s character takes a lot of time.

I know we live in a world where time is more precious than all else. There are a million time-consuming demands and never enough time. This, my friends, is something we cannot shelve. It is too important. We cannot put it off until we have more time.

If we want to be imitators of our Father, we must spend time with Him. It doesn’t have to be an hour every morning. It could be ten minutes in the afternoon. It could be on the train going in to work. It could be at 3AM while up with one of the kids. Do it when you can, but do it every day. This is not something to feel guilty about. The truth is the more time we spend with God; the less we have to work at being like Him. We will become natural imitators. Thinking like He thinks will be automatic. Being what He wants us to be will be easy. All because we have been with Him; we have spent time with Him and we know His character.

Chasing God & the Kids Too

Hey all! I just started this new book and wanted to pass it along to you.

It is Chasing God and the Kids Too, written by Cheryl R. Carter, published by Revell Books, c. 2006. Y'all know I'm not a neat freak. I struggle with keeping my house, kids, family, LIFE under control and in balance. I'm only a few chapters in and already am feeling so very encouraged! Ms. Carter offers an intelligent and easy read filled with practical advice. I'm lovin' it. Her passion for knowing God is evident. That passion becomes contagious through quality writing.

REMEMBER: I've not finished the book yet! I'll give you another synopsis when I've completed it. If you do want to jump in, the best prices are on amazon and christianbook.com

Paraphrases are Not Translations

Too many Christian authors today are using paraphrases as Scripture translations. The problem is: they are not. And the misuse of paraphrases as Scripture is beginning to permeate our literature.

I just finished a good book. Within the 176 pages of text the author gave 134 quotes from seven different versions of the Bible. Of those 134 quotes, sixty of them were from “The Message”. That’s almost half. The direct quotes from the New International Version, Contemporary English Version, Amplified Bible, The Living Bible, King James Version and the New King James Version combined barely surpassed the total direct quotes from one paraphrased text: The Message.

Paraphrases are not translations. A translation, by very definition, is an accurate portrayal of one language to another. A paraphrase, in contrast, is taking something already translated and re-phrasing it to better say what it means.

There is nothing wrong with paraphrasing! The problem comes when readers are led to believe that a paraphrase is the same as Scripture. It’s like quoting Cliff’s Notes instead of the actual text. It makes no sense.

And who knows the mind of God that he can accurately re-phrase His words to tell us what God really means? Scripture assures us that no one comes close to understanding the mind of God. (Isaiah 40:13-14; Romans 11:33-36; 1 Corinthians 2:16) Even men who have devoted their entire lives to understanding God and His character are only able to scratch the surface. He is infinitely greater than our minds can comprehend.

Please understand I am not accusing paraphrases of lying. I am not suggesting that they are false doctrines or specifically misleading. I am simply saying that they are not Scripture. They are paraphrases – not translations. They contain truths, but they also contain personal interpretations and suggestions by the authors.

Say these authors are inspired by God to write what they write. (And I certainly hope that they have prayerfully approached their project!) Perhaps even their interpretations are given by God. That still does not make their paraphrase a translation of God-breathed Scripture.

Let’s evaluate the canon. There are thousands of texts written about God, spirituality and Jesus the Christ, but not all of them are included in the Bible. Requirements were established to determine which were holy and to be included and which were not. We must evaluate these authors in light of these guidelines before calling their works Scripture. If they do not stand under the given requirements, then we need to stop quoting them as God-breathed. Quote them as commentaries, as paraphrases, as wonderful Christians’ points of view. But do be mislead into thinking they are the same as our Holy Bible.

“All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness; that the man of God may be adequate, equipped for every good work.” -- 2 Timothy 3:16-17

God’s Scripture is the foundation of our faith, containing the basis and truths of our salvation. We cannot mess with it. It must remain pure. It must be set apart – holy. I don’t care what version of the Bible you use. Just be sure it is a translation of the Bible and not someone else version of what the Bible says. Go directly to the Source! You won’t be sorry.

Twenty more twenty minutes

Whenever we ask Isabel to do something she holds up her little finger and says, “Two minutes.” She’ll go to bed in two minutes. She’ll be ready for dinner in two minutes. She’ll be done with her bath in two minutes. Everything requires just two more minutes.

My life, in contrast, needs twenty more twenty minutes.

It seems everything can be accomplished in about twenty minutes. Sometimes you’ll need two twenty minutes, but for the most part, twenty minutes should do it. We should exercise at least twenty minutes a day. Taking a shower and getting ready: twenty minutes. Making, eating and cleaning up after dinner: at least twenty minutes each.

I am told that to be a good writer I need to be writing at least twenty minutes a day. If I want to be a good Christian writer, I also need to take twenty minutes each day in personal devotion; Scripture meditation and prayer and another twenty minutes (or more) reading inspirational Christian books and articles.

That takes just three hours of my day. What else is on my list?

Water the flowers. Get the groceries. Feed the kids. Give them baths. Finish the samples for the church ladies’ craft night. Finish the thank you notes from Zach’s birthday. Update our calendar. (It still shows July.) Get the oil changed and a car wash. Research bedroom furniture. Call the dermatologist. Do the laundry. Clean the house. Tend the garden. Greet the neighbors. Do my nails. Separate clothes for Salvation Army. Get and send gift for Jen’s new baby. Book a hotel in North Carolina for Jack’s birthday. Make arrangements to visit Tracy in Kentucky when her baby is born. Call back Sarah, Katie, Julie, Carolyn, Mom, Erin … Email customers about August sales. Get stamps. Deposit checks. Pay bills. Get birthday gift for Cameron. Send cards to Claudia, Jennifer, Maria, Terry and Liz.

Okay … so now we’re up to 16 hours. Am I missing anything? Oh …right …

Paint the bookcase. Finalize lesson plans for our sign-language class on Tuesday. Hang the shelves in the basement. Sort through the “clutter closet”. Teach Isabel her alphabet. Read to the kids. QUALITY TIME. Do the laundry again. (I do have two toddlers living here!) Hem my skirt. Get new shoes. Say “hello” to my husband. Call contractors for estimates on finishing the upstairs. Find a new dentist. Research housing opportunities for Mom. Update websites. SLEEP!! Order photo prints. Re-organize scrapbook papers (as if I’ll ever have time to scrap!) Recycle old magazines. Find zoo membership card before Monday …

Yeah … I just need twenty more twenty minutes.

Divided Conquests

I have too many hats and wear none of them well. A jack of all trades – well, in my case “Jill” – master of none. That’s me. I sew. I cook. I stamp. I scrap. I write. I am a mother, a sister, a teacher, a daughter, a wife and sometimes a friend. I am a Christian, a servant, a peacekeeper and a counselor. I am tired; frustrated … I am burnt out.

My energies are divided. The more I try to do anything right, the more I seem to neglect something else. All of this attempted productivity clashes loudly with the soundtrack of my life – performed by an extremely chatty two-year-old. I don’t read the Bible as often as I should. I don’t maintain my business like my customers deserve. I snap and bark at my kids and husband all too often. My friends are neglected. My house is a mess. My garden needs attention. I am completely behind on correspondence. And there are four people waiting for an answer to new commitment invitations.

I have slept through the night – an actual, uninterrupted eight hours – only once in the last two months.

I have nothing important to say today. Just that I am weary from head to foot and not knowing how to remedy the situation. More exercise? When do I squeeze that in? Perhaps better organization. A maid? Personal assistant? A clone! That would do it. Oh, right … already got one. She’s one-eighth my size.

The encouraging thing is this: No matter how deep I bury myself, God can still hear me. He is always near. He is always faithful. And I have direct access whenever or wherever I want. How cool is that?

“What other nation is so great as to have their gods near them the way the LORD our God is near us whenever we pray to Him?” -- Deuteronomy 4:7 (NIV)

What does it matter?

Today is Zachary’s birthday.

I have spent the last two days rather upset over something that somebody said and did that completely contradicted itself. I hate it when people are inconsistent. There are times that I don’t exactly live my beliefs to their fullest, I admit. Everybody slips – I probably more than others. What bothers me is people being consistently inconsistent. If you always say one thing, but do another. Or have rules that apply to everyone but yourself. This is what I’m talking about. It drives me crazy! Well, this is what has been mulling around in my head. Should I confront this person? How do I do that tactfully and without coming off too emotional? (Yes, yet another fault of mine is being overly emotional. I get so worked up that no one pays attention to the logic of my argument. Rather they believe I’ve got “lady issues” or something else that is really bothering me.)

Zachary is sick. He has had a nasty head-cold for a couple days now. We’re finally on the mend, but he’s still not himself. On top of that, his eczema has come back with a vengeance and he is in the depths of separation anxiety. It seems the only peace he has is wrapped in my arms, while we rock out in the corner of his room. I sing and he just collapses on my chest.

While we sat there this afternoon, me belting out “The Beatles”, his peace overflowed to me.

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice! Let your gentle spirit be known to all men. The Lord is near. Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” -- Philippians 4:4-7

How long ago did I memorize these words? Again I must learn to be gentle and patient; filled with rejoicing and never anxious, for it is there that I will find my peace. And not just any peace: a peace that surpasses all comprehension. How awesome is that?

Too often I allow myself to create turmoil. I have a pretty cushy life! I have an amazing husband who not only allows me, but encourages and thanks me for staying home with our kids. We have got a wonderful home – not our dream house, but it is more than comfortable. We never suffer for food or clothes or anything. We are so very blessed! So, why am I always complaining? Why am I always adding drama when I could be bathing in God’s peace? I am in want of nothing, yet I snivel and gripe at things that mean nothing.

And that was my revelation while trying to comfort my son today: it means nothing. All these spits and spats that my female mind needs to dissect while folding laundry or doing dishes mean absolutely nothing! Who cares if I have been wronged? Who cares if things are equal and fair? It doesn’t matter! What does matter are those moments in our red rocker. The moments sitting in the grass blowing bubbles. The moments singing and reading and playing. Time is fleeting and I refuse to waste another moment complaining about those things that mean nothing. I choose peace. To prove it – I am sitting here writing instead of cleaning. Instead of worrying about the thirty plus people who are coming to a birthday party on Saturday, I am meditating and praying. My house is a disaster, and I don’t care. I’ve got a little boy calling out for one more moment with me. I am rushing to enjoy that moment and treasure God’s peace found in it.