tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44072849685590181992024-03-05T08:21:08.378-06:00Faith FarmerKeeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.comBlogger318125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-48787389413365250122015-10-05T14:31:00.001-05:002015-10-05T14:43:51.675-05:00Nature Walk FailFirst year homeschooling mom, here. Can I tell you about our nature walk today? Well. It SUCKED.<br />
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Can I say that?<br />
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I don't even use that word but it's really the only one I can think of that perfectly captures it all--the feelings, the melt downs, the frustrations, the lack of nature, the lack of walking, the copious amounts of whining. My goodness. My. Goodness.<br />
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For weeks I've been following along on Instagram as various other home school families do their thing out in nature. Things like collecting mating butterflies, WHILE THEY ARE MATING, which leads into meaningful reproduction discussions. Of course it does. (Mind blown.) The kids running wild and free pointing out birds they studied last week, finding rare cocoons, climbing through creeks, jumping off waterfalls, sketching fabulous detailed representations in nature journals. This really does happen, there are photos to prove it and I dream about the day we are enjoying nature in this way. Meanwhile I'm over here, "Hey kids, grab some gummies, we're going for a walk down the driveway."<br />
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After the announcement is made we have a good 15 minutes of lolly gagging around before we are suited up and ready to go. I already want to quit. Literally as we are walking out the door my daughter bites into an apple, forgetting that she has a seriously loose tooth. Blood gushes, She screams. Back inside we go. Wet paper towel to soak up the blood, crying and hugging. Hush-hush, there-there. And we're back on the porch. We make it down the driveway a bit and the moans begin, "It's too hot."<br />
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Why aren't they loving this? I ask myself. All the other kids seem to. Why don't they want to climb a tree? Run around in circles? Dig in the dirt? Build stuff out of sticks and rocks? ANTS!! I"m being bitten by ants. I wipe them off. I am on a mission and no little stinging pip-squeak ant is going to stop me. We are going to experience nature, and<i> like</i> it.<br />
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Thankfully at this point Jonah sees a birds nest. We are excited. We are about 50 feet from the front porch. He starts to reach for it and I yell something about the mama bird won't come back to it if we touch it. (I have no idea what I'm talking about). Then we realize its unoccupied. There are actually some dead leaves positioned in it where it seems like no birds have been in there for a while. So we pull it down. I'm imagining the cool picture I'm going to take and post on Instagram but then I start to wonder if we've done something horrible. Will the masses of nature-loving and well-educated IG followers yell at me? Are we bird home-wreckers? I don't know. We continue on. But we have a birds nest in our Wal-Mart sack.<br />
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Now we see some berries growing on a tree. They are so beautiful. Alas, I have no scissors and I'm not touching them because what if they're poisonous? About this time, Jonah needs to go pee. Awesome. Still can't be more than 75 feet away from the front door. Glory is crying for a drink. I send them both in. I make them sprint, because P.E., right?<br />
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I decide to follow to grab some scissors. After everyone has been relieved and reinforced, we head back out. I tell them we must procure 5 items before returning. We go straight to the berries, I clip them off. The kids ask if the leaf can count as one thing and the berries can count as another. Heck, NO, I say. We can do this.<br />
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So as to avoid ants, we hop onto the rock driveway. This is when Glory begins lamenting of the heat. Its about 75 degrees. She's saying she's itchy. Jonah is full of dread over the distance between us and our next destination, the chicken pen. All of a sudden both of their legs are "so tired." The moaning, the crying--it's unadulterated torture. I've already had my max bathroom cries for the morning. I refuse to let this get to me and yet, it is.<br />
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"Here's something you don't see everyday," says Jonah, holding up a used ziplock bag he found in the pasture. Thankful for the giggle and release of tension I decide turn ship and head us back to port. We've had about all of the nature we can handle for one day. Completely satisfied with a (possibly irresponsibly removed) nest, berries and baggie, the kids' legs find a sudden healing as they frolic back inside. Our walk comes to an end.<br />
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Will we ever be nature-enthusiasts? Will I be able to raise children who like the outdoors and know whether or not its OK to remove a nest or if the berries we're picking are poisonous? I don't know. But this will have to do for now. It's all we got.<br />
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<br />Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-90037494058165730492015-09-27T17:58:00.001-05:002015-09-28T08:43:08.461-05:00True and Proper<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><div class="gmail_default" style="display: inline;">I</div> want to worship the Lord. In considering this I realize that it is more enjoyable (immediately) for me to worship through song than it is through self-denial. Obviously<div class="gmail_default" style="display: inline;">. So I tend to sing a lot. Which is fine. But...</div></span><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But I've been realizing something. We can't pick and choose our form of worship any more than we can pick and choose what we want to believe in scripture. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Speaking of scripture ...what is written in The Word regarding our "spiritual act of worship" ? </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">'In view of God's mercy, offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God--this is your true and proper worship.' Romans 12:1 NIV</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I think those added descriptors, true and proper, are there because we do a lot of false worship. At least I do. Things I dream up, things I think are important, things I just like to do. They are worship-y, but are they always worship? </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Sometimes I am being tempted and I think, "I'm being tempted. I need to praise. I need to worship." So I start singing. Well, maybe I needed to worship by not putting the 11th spoonful of cookie dough in my mouth. Maybe I need to wash a load of clothes. Maybe I need to make a phone call I don't want to make. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Offer your bodies...</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">When I offer my body as a sacrifice, doing what he wants me to do with it rather than what I want to do with it--this is the highest form of praise. True and proper.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I've heard it said, obedience is God's love language. Makes sense. It's how he knows we truly praise him--when we have faith enough to obey.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Give me faith Lord, for true and proper worship. </span></div>Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-24065697039280370512015-09-06T19:49:00.002-05:002015-09-06T19:59:45.327-05:00Week One High/LowWe have survived the first week of school at home! Thank you, Jesus. THANK. YOU.<br />
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It was interesting to say the least. This homeschooling is not for the faint of heart. I spent the first half of the first day crying because my kids wouldn't do what I said to do. I was texting Justin at work saying, "The kids won't do what I say! I don't know what to do! This is bad." Lol. (It's funny now. Then--not so much). The kids generally do what I say but I'm not usually giving them as many directives as I was that first day. I guess my expectations were a little off. It did get better. No matter what, I already decided to give homeschool a good 10 years before I decide if I want to continue doing it or not. So until then we'll just trudge along in faith.<br />
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So week 1 high/low...<br />
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High:<br />
Friday morning at the table reading from Proverbs and praying before starting our day. No surprise it was the best day of all!<br />
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Low:<br />
Definitely crying on the first day of school in front of the kids. But in the end--maybe for the best. They are going to know I'm human sooner or later. Might as well be now.<br />
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<br />Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-71494092910587380452015-08-04T13:18:00.000-05:002015-08-04T13:19:54.643-05:00What Must Be Done<blockquote class="tr_bq">
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Cease endlessly striving for what you would like to do and learn to love what must be done. --Goethe</span></i></blockquote>
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Here I sit, trying to plan for our first year of homeschooling. As in, school at home. That I'm in charge of. All of it. There are so many books, methods, theories, personalities, experiences, models. And then there's me. Taking it all in, trying to put together a puzzle that has like 10 million more pieces that its supposed to.What do I do with the overwhelm?</div>
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Naturally, I procrastinate. Hey I haven't blogged in a while. This seems like a good time...<br />
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So, like, what in the world are we doing here? I just need to talk this through.<br />
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I know this is the path God has put us on. When there is no other possible explanation for the direction you are about to take except for "Because GOD said so." Well, there is peace in that kind of bewilderment. But still--bewilderment.<br />
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Looking through the curriculum, schedules, stacks of books, notes from conferences... my little blankie (my coffee cup) doesn't seem up to the task. This is serious. I mean, let's be honest coffee can do a lot. For a season coffee got me to the babysitter's door. Then for a season it got me to the car line drop-off. It's gotten me through many a homework-dinner-bath-brush-bed fiascoes. But now it's time to go further than any of those. And I just don't see coffee getting me there. Can you even safely drink that much coffee?<br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Bewilderment. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">But seriously...How does this work?</span></div>
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This is not a dream fulfilled. This is not a gift I've really asked for. This is not normal. What this is... is a seed God planted deep, a long time ago, and it's beginning to sprout.<br />
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Well sprouting hurts.<br />
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Oh, Lord--Help me love it? Help me find joy in places I'd rather not look. Help me grow in ways I'd not choose. Help me rest when I want to be busy and help me hustle when I just want to lock myself in the bathroom and cry like a baby. Help me love my kids enough to do the hard things. This is the school you have brought me to. Teach me, I'm ready to learn.<br />
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Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-8602912991940727212015-06-06T10:34:00.000-05:002015-06-06T13:16:57.866-05:00My First Homeschool PostLast Tuesday marked the beginning of a new journey for our family. My husband and I picked the kids up from school and as we were en route to a mini-getaway destination we told them that next year we will begin homeschool...<div>
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So now I can talk about it. Whew. </div>
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Every morning I love to make a hand-crafted cup of coffee for myself. I very precisely "eye ball" the locally roasted beans, scoop and shovel them down into the grinder. I select the perfect grind for a gritty, rich cup of french press. I then heat the water until just boiling, turn off the heat and watch it fall to the perfect temp where the water is just slightly dancing. I love to observe the fresh grounds responding to the water--foamy blooms of flavor swirl around in the press. There is always a wait involved. It's rough. But then then comes the first sip. And its so delightful. I have created a work of art before the sun has even risen. I always thank the Lord for this cup. I will admit, there are many things I forget to be grateful for but a cup of coffee like this, I always remember. That I get to be a part of the process--that he made something so simple that I enjoy so very much. I've always been struck by the oddity of how grateful I am for the coffee. </div>
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Recently as I was thinking about the opportunity before me to educate my own children I began to see it in terms of art. That each one of them is the Father's workmanship and I'm able to play a part in the further crafting of their lives. Each one a small, but mighty work of art that I get to be a part of creating. Individual, hand & heart-crafted. Artisanal Education. Is that a thing? I hope so, because that is my vision for these two. </div><div><br></div>
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I realize that for the past few years as I've looked down into that first cup and thanked God for the opportunity to daily craft and enjoy my coffee, that I've actually been giving thanks for much more than just coffee. </div><div><div>
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The name of our school is Arrows Academy, based on Psalm 127:3-4,<i> Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth. </i>In the fall we will be a part of Classical Conversations, which I'm extremely excited about! Classical education is where my heart is. I just never knew it until now! </div>
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This summer my main objective is to implement and practice routines, new chores, and some new expectations. I will post about those soon. I love having freedom to do things on a whim and to be flexible, but I've learned through my own personal trials that you can't have that freedom without some boundaries. So, first things first. </div>
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Much more to come about Arrows Academy...stay tuned. Until then, here is a peak at one of our learning spaces, the upstairs common area, and some books.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtQP9HGMoTpkZqz8_QYJ7pg41qV421KlrvqB95wSFqaHkHfjNfnhLzwku0JbYhhE5x4neEKXzIXODjD0NW1IphrLavqOxrRvtBbvnwMwhmlef0t8R6v886zVhFHe2ie08j7eUPAYelFgtu/s640/blogger-image-1155293762.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtQP9HGMoTpkZqz8_QYJ7pg41qV421KlrvqB95wSFqaHkHfjNfnhLzwku0JbYhhE5x4neEKXzIXODjD0NW1IphrLavqOxrRvtBbvnwMwhmlef0t8R6v886zVhFHe2ie08j7eUPAYelFgtu/s640/blogger-image-1155293762.jpg"></a></div>Plan to use the mail box to aid in communication between the kids and me. They can write me, I can write them... Nothing is off limits. I'm excited about it.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOJXsTIOFGc9QJBMs7KHffJ4QUbQbm7RyCnV_Kq1ozDNnuzQSIwRfO0_8T0HGgXECF0amgHkV7N1KDRrHF-qD3OGj9KFOKi6eQYIJhihB8wnprNZVCVrWycizSUww8TsXG-NU1h53IVfXL/s640/blogger-image-2030287247.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOJXsTIOFGc9QJBMs7KHffJ4QUbQbm7RyCnV_Kq1ozDNnuzQSIwRfO0_8T0HGgXECF0amgHkV7N1KDRrHF-qD3OGj9KFOKi6eQYIJhihB8wnprNZVCVrWycizSUww8TsXG-NU1h53IVfXL/s640/blogger-image-2030287247.jpg"></a></div>Comfy couch for reading, memory work, or whatever...</div><div><br></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwSeUAQqQ_qW7RigAJVv8VenATwZNcaJ6HwAYOKjtxCoYiqtMTGUvo5D_kD3IEBWOKMHL219H5uvJdbeJ9hDhRzgHZSqKWX_OnC4TkANSFYKOdG8TuzIhb9Gbrc1rJWwI4TBd2iAb16VLp/s640/blogger-image-1904747546.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwSeUAQqQ_qW7RigAJVv8VenATwZNcaJ6HwAYOKjtxCoYiqtMTGUvo5D_kD3IEBWOKMHL219H5uvJdbeJ9hDhRzgHZSqKWX_OnC4TkANSFYKOdG8TuzIhb9Gbrc1rJWwI4TBd2iAb16VLp/s640/blogger-image-1904747546.jpg"></a></div>This table is really special as my grandparents bought it for my husband and me when we married. It will be getting a facelift soon...</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXWwjjTfFuKNH_h7ToLGbSmTXL4pWlNRDFufIQxH-IFS0qGlZSHxIyG2fv7jYVy08L-xKT8Kp9cbPZHw3EPUDjNb43A8NFx9fRPUhulRqLlusi_R20SPjZY6slpV7ag001_E8dHljnPr8E/s640/blogger-image-1423016244.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXWwjjTfFuKNH_h7ToLGbSmTXL4pWlNRDFufIQxH-IFS0qGlZSHxIyG2fv7jYVy08L-xKT8Kp9cbPZHw3EPUDjNb43A8NFx9fRPUhulRqLlusi_R20SPjZY6slpV7ag001_E8dHljnPr8E/s640/blogger-image-1423016244.jpg"></a></div></div><div>Storage space!! Sure it won't take long to fill this up.</div><div><br></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXzrDP18uZyohvBIuLEiw_Y-sMa2dp8NUMGu18ypSxX74EqMOCjVJG0TamQ0i68h_slK1lRr-SqzSIOH4UngtVhY876sexJDrfW6VxK4KLziPbdxl13fZ_HQLRj4gphretbDlycL-7RcoM/s640/blogger-image-1468644822.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXzrDP18uZyohvBIuLEiw_Y-sMa2dp8NUMGu18ypSxX74EqMOCjVJG0TamQ0i68h_slK1lRr-SqzSIOH4UngtVhY876sexJDrfW6VxK4KLziPbdxl13fZ_HQLRj4gphretbDlycL-7RcoM/s640/blogger-image-1468644822.jpg"></a></div></div><div>Our Classical Conversations curriculum. So excited about Classical learning!!! Mom is going back to "school"!</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjG3jqKRQHRnbteNmcCf9ZbxelB9lE6ByRVzflrj7A-ioggQsPn_SgIIZRgVJcgsrR4zhU-VxMW-mDzR70aZVBAN0W-2IfkTOV_NAeoQj1mUeKr7lgdl4WwoIRYsf5zymWSHR9t1KKWnpz/s640/blogger-image-2140721869.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjG3jqKRQHRnbteNmcCf9ZbxelB9lE6ByRVzflrj7A-ioggQsPn_SgIIZRgVJcgsrR4zhU-VxMW-mDzR70aZVBAN0W-2IfkTOV_NAeoQj1mUeKr7lgdl4WwoIRYsf5zymWSHR9t1KKWnpz/s640/blogger-image-2140721869.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">A few of our "subjects"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Gxhh497pdODKOq34I0FleindOu6qYUWnU98rhWIMnYk-qVKyuHCIDSbrCMu-fFNIcB-RoaiAWXEtv37R5v7fSnkuPl9SAhrhR1zsF6dRd-Y1yfkLJz-uxW5t1LvvitFsh7hl4qDo352I/s640/blogger-image-1952288615.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Gxhh497pdODKOq34I0FleindOu6qYUWnU98rhWIMnYk-qVKyuHCIDSbrCMu-fFNIcB-RoaiAWXEtv37R5v7fSnkuPl9SAhrhR1zsF6dRd-Y1yfkLJz-uxW5t1LvvitFsh7hl4qDo352I/s640/blogger-image-1952288615.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I've loaded up the kindle with some freebies for Jonah (9) to feast on.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbcMjLqpHH38fiLjtoJ_W-y9sY_NbYl3trasZ1ENJDa7s07hXVeylDJvlgndxAStKux6c2qzdcEa4AKfnM6UGL_M4OEjbTQ4sDEGmwdxQd9oJc6uv1GnX3T_N5ycEhYN0mf2ZdEzNCWmMI/s640/blogger-image-904518381.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbcMjLqpHH38fiLjtoJ_W-y9sY_NbYl3trasZ1ENJDa7s07hXVeylDJvlgndxAStKux6c2qzdcEa4AKfnM6UGL_M4OEjbTQ4sDEGmwdxQd9oJc6uv1GnX3T_N5ycEhYN0mf2ZdEzNCWmMI/s640/blogger-image-904518381.jpg"></a></div><br></div>
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And some helpful books I am currently feasting on.</div>
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Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-54366096324906551362015-05-31T07:59:00.001-05:002015-05-31T08:06:52.979-05:00Sunday Reflections<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgg_hPfsjD2u7IjqnyMBqGB17hA_zC5T7rrgPiGgVqUEdJhHgnBhB5r0xN6bmcPIhPfMehcNQUhw1E1u99SIt9bcqdqXgVMiE4gF5v_6HftmONZ1VQN82UaK_u_ct65HcMNDgWynCD7l-M/s640/blogger-image--1888276124.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgg_hPfsjD2u7IjqnyMBqGB17hA_zC5T7rrgPiGgVqUEdJhHgnBhB5r0xN6bmcPIhPfMehcNQUhw1E1u99SIt9bcqdqXgVMiE4gF5v_6HftmONZ1VQN82UaK_u_ct65HcMNDgWynCD7l-M/s640/blogger-image--1888276124.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Sunday morning art time is the best. Especially when daddy does it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">This weekend has been lazy and good. I define a good weekend as "Still standing on Sunday and had plenty of coffee."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">And especially good when I get a haircut for the first time in a year. Excellent.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0LT1R9CPD3QtKtlI5YM6lPi3afPJZOeBLz8UrZSAlhEJCBgrD2FWcF4rhUtCqdvVXObwHrD1IkNT6gAOIqrOwgTCPAGUTXR6Cun0JyblyqoL8y7C0KkW6ZN2vwHz473I6ilOJHAJvXppO/s640/blogger-image-1281495575.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0LT1R9CPD3QtKtlI5YM6lPi3afPJZOeBLz8UrZSAlhEJCBgrD2FWcF4rhUtCqdvVXObwHrD1IkNT6gAOIqrOwgTCPAGUTXR6Cun0JyblyqoL8y7C0KkW6ZN2vwHz473I6ilOJHAJvXppO/s640/blogger-image-1281495575.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div>Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-79390874068630519832015-05-30T09:40:00.002-05:002015-05-30T09:45:09.261-05:00On DisciplineLately I've realized that I like discipline. I get excited about routines, setting boundaries, fostering new habits, setting outlandish goals. It's kinda weird. I don't necessarily enjoy the day to day institution of discipline but I know that it's a good thing. Discipline is like that friend that tells you what you don't want to hear but you really need to hear. You want to punch their teeth out at first but then a week or two later (when you realize they were right) you want to go give them a snotty hug of gratitude.<br />
<br />
So yeah, discipline is like that friend. Pretty sweet.<br />
<br />
Oh! And something that I was confused about for a very long time is the relationship between discipline and legalism. They aren't the same thing! But I thought they were. When you think about the concept of grace on a surface level it's easy to say "Who needs discipline? God loves me no matter what." True, he does but...The ironic thing is that the deeper I plunge into the overwhelming waters of grace, the more discipline becomes important to me. The more I see it as effective and necessary in my life. The more breathtakingly beautiful it becomes.<br />
<br />
Richard Foster says it so well in his work, Celebration of Discipline:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<br />
God has given us the disciplines of the spiritual life as a means of receiving his grace. The Disciplines allow us to place ourselves before God so that he can transform us...We must always remember that the path does not produce the change; it only places us where the change can occur. This is the path of disciplined grace.</blockquote>
<br />
So there you go. Discipline and grace are BFFs.<br />
<br />
Discipline is a really an awesome thing. Try it.<br />
<br />
<br />Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-73554328172711756132013-11-25T10:08:00.004-06:002013-11-25T10:12:45.120-06:00Hope for the Holidays {When Santa is Scary}<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Rummaging
in the closet looking for a sweater as the first chill had come in
Texas, a roll of Christmas wrapping paper fell from the top shelf and into my
arms. The sight took my breath away as I immediately dropped it. Heart pounding,
tears burning, stunned that the sight of Jolly Old St. Nick on paper could elicit such fear within me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The
winter before had been excruciating. The peak of what would be psychologically labeled as Depression
and Anxiety disorders was exposed on Christmas Eve. Weeks leading up to that night could
be described as a stressful striving to be Pinterest-perfect. The pounds
packing on and pushed further and further to the back of my mind. Somehow I had
to be good enough. I could not be pretty but my tree could be. I could not make friends
in real life but online I could...<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This is no way for a child of God to live. So he brought the striving to the surface. Much like a
splintered foreign object finding it's way out of human flesh--</span></span><span style="font-size: 18px; line-height: 20px;">it hurts like hell.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;">It doesn't belong
there. It can’t stay there. And it won't. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 18px; line-height: 20px;">What was inside of me was exposed.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"> For days all I could do was sit in a chair outside in the freezing cold
with a blanket on me just letting the winter sun shine bright on my face. No speaking. No explaining. I could not “craft” this away. The Holy Spirit
had work to do and I was to sit. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Fast
forward a few years to last week. Winter weather coming, the holiday season
upon us, a husband far away on a trip, wild and woolly children fully
dependent on Yours Truly. I felt it again. The weight of that Santa paper fell
on my soul and took my breath away. I wasn’t expecting it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>No, no. We’re
good, God. No more work needed. The splinter is out now...right?</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">His work is finished. But His work IN ME is never…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I
write this because I know that somebody else had that paper fall on them
today. Or they will tomorrow. Or they did last week. Many factors play into
this and they are real. As insignificant
as they may seem, we must remember that a tiny splinter creates real hurt. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Less sunlight, spending more time inside, becoming less physically
active, spending more time alone, spending more time with people, facing painful
family relationships, hard events during
the holidays as a kid, the absence of a dear loved one at the holiday table…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;">What
are the factors? What are the fears? It is important to do the hard work of thinking through what
we truly feel. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;">For
me it is a combination of factors. None of which are unknown by my Father, the
one who truly </span><i style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;">sees me</i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;">.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 18px; line-height: 20px;">God offers comfort and promises. Which promises speak to your pain and your fear? Search them out in His Word. Believe them.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">God
desires for us to cry out to Him and lift our complaints to him. Telling Him about
it does not mean that pain will go away or that we won’t be affected by the
season that is upon us. It means acknowledging a bigger picture and a greater purpose. We are not the center of the universe--He is. He holds us all, orchestrates all and going to Him in prayer says we believe that. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Sometimes it may be all we can do to sit,
covered in the blanket of grace with the light of Christ’s face shining upon us as the cold wind bites at
our soul. This will be enough.</span></div>
Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-37698825359730823922013-08-09T09:35:00.001-05:002013-08-09T09:35:05.119-05:00King-Size ChangesLast night was our first night on a new mattress. We went from a king to a queen because the bedroom we are about to move into is a little bit smaller than our current one. (Also there is a really cute queen frame that I can have for free ;-) Slept like a rock!! My husband's feet hang off the end (he's 6' tall) and we didn't really check that before we brought it home. But he says he slept like a rock so I guess we're good. <br />
<br />
It was fun getting the mattress all set up and putting the sheets on. The anticipation of the way the new plush yet firm bed would feel holding up the arch in my lower back was just too much! I took a shower and shaved my legs because you know that getting under clean sheets with just-shaved legs is one of the greatest gifts God ever gave a woman.<br />
<br />
I laid down first. I was swishing my arms and legs as if I was making snow angels on a December day (only its early August and hotter than hades here). I started to get still and close my eyes when Justin plopped down beside me. His arm was touching mine. Not okay! Then he rolled on his side and so did I and our our arms and legs intertwined. I kept whining "We messed up...we messed up!" He was just smiling. We've been sleeping on cots for a few days, he was happy. <br />
<br />
So we went to sleep. And as I said, slept like a rock.<br />
<br />
One of the other reasons we talked ourselves into this new, smaller bed is that it is precisely made for two adults. (More like 1.5 as it turns out, but moving on...) So our logic was that little bodies could not slither their way up between us in the wee hours of the morning. Messed up again. Six AM little brown eyes are peeking out behind the tattered blanket she slept on her first night in this home. In my new queen bed. Little eyes staring, little feet nudging, little arms that smell like summer still found a way into the plush yet firm queen bed and around my neck. <br />
<br />
Lots of changes around this place. Exciting, fun, and sometimes panic-inducing. But at the end of the day we always get to go to sleep. With the promise of a new day and new mercies and hopefully...little brown eyes to greet us with the dawn.Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-5725156585686821132013-05-12T22:57:00.001-05:002013-05-12T22:57:15.265-05:00How Mom Loves Me<br />
In Christ, she lost her life and found it. I watched. And when I saw, then I knew that someday, somehow I would lose my life so that I would find it, too. I didn't know how it would happen or when, but I knew that it could because I saw it. It was real.<br />
<br />
And I want to be like Mom.<br />
<br />
The best thing she gives isn't something she plans or buys. It's not something she says or a way she makes me feel. It's not a hug or a kiss or a pat on the back. She does those things...but, no.<br />
<br />
The way she loves me isn't the human way that has to do with emotions. It's God's way that has to do with God. It is a relationship that is transforming her. Always, transforming. It makes me want more of Jesus.<br />
<br />
In her obedience, she loves God. And in loving God she loves me. Beautiful. Simple. God is the beginning and the end of my mother's love for me. It is a joy to be her daughter and sister, walking hand in hand toward eternity.<br />
<br />
<br />
By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey his commandments.<br />
(1 John 5:2)<br />
<br />
Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-58787882776899223632013-01-22T00:49:00.001-06:002013-01-22T00:56:47.159-06:00A Home Transplant<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZpN55UcbVDeJcFPVrxLB_zdJavLXtlXjNyIJVHXRb_ZTBNh4H62QpK1LHzWbCMexmchK-WThdr8NW37mI6Sm_zFPMYWYD8GkAfymV1moIwA4zeKEhifX494-vxdpH0UJp_zJtVyjFzqN/s640/blogger-image-465617546.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZpN55UcbVDeJcFPVrxLB_zdJavLXtlXjNyIJVHXRb_ZTBNh4H62QpK1LHzWbCMexmchK-WThdr8NW37mI6Sm_zFPMYWYD8GkAfymV1moIwA4zeKEhifX494-vxdpH0UJp_zJtVyjFzqN/s640/blogger-image-465617546.jpg" /></a></div>
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This is where the house is going to go. Our house.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv49yOAZYe1PS0ZP7beu_fpSPg9z3Nad7dcwN-ABtXl0VCjczI50a0ccODu0X1-uqbrNnHKFK9J8TtVRE_IL4Wi0OyvU37-y7UkUl-TWpRxaCDgaUtTSl-BNXiLsTUX0dgcGsNB8XK0rUr/s640/blogger-image--777679273.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv49yOAZYe1PS0ZP7beu_fpSPg9z3Nad7dcwN-ABtXl0VCjczI50a0ccODu0X1-uqbrNnHKFK9J8TtVRE_IL4Wi0OyvU37-y7UkUl-TWpRxaCDgaUtTSl-BNXiLsTUX0dgcGsNB8XK0rUr/s640/blogger-image--777679273.jpg" /></a></div>
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Soon this will be a driveway. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilmSSXvwc4OIKlqs-9RtNYFGB4Qz7BjQzpjGz8_6xQ4jLgBW5IwdAZFnLn3C5xKodonPNsZQ8Bes2vryYpAEWiRZasgMQcGAQLmb39HT9sN7Azs7B6GWsKZQIUIa5ZSAJyDw4F_CHZ65aM/s640/blogger-image-281320450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilmSSXvwc4OIKlqs-9RtNYFGB4Qz7BjQzpjGz8_6xQ4jLgBW5IwdAZFnLn3C5xKodonPNsZQ8Bes2vryYpAEWiRZasgMQcGAQLmb39HT9sN7Azs7B6GWsKZQIUIa5ZSAJyDw4F_CHZ65aM/s640/blogger-image-281320450.jpg" /></a></div>
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This is the friendly evergreen greeter.</div>
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This will be the yard.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Looks to be the perfect spot for a small table and chairs. Coffee will taste good here.</div>
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This is the very beginning. A solid ground to get us from here to there...<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">A new house.</span> <br />
While excitement is growing daily, there is a strange sort of sadness brewing within me, as well. Going from here to there means...saying good bye.<br />
To a place that is dear to my heart.<br />
The house we live in now is a gem.<br />
It has given us so much. <br />
So much to love. So much to miss.<br />
<br />
The sounds:<br />
The crunch of tires on the driveway means that someone is home. Someone I love.<br />
Whispers of the glorious shade trees in spring are captivating.<br />
Chickens, children and skunks play in the yard. Some make it. Others--not so much.<br />
The creaky spot in the kitchen floor right by the fridge. Just makes me smile.<br />
Children running endless circles through the well-designed house.<br />
Someone forever & always begging for the bathroom.<br />
So much laughing. So much crying. So many prayers. <br />
A million spoon clinks in my coffee cup.<br />
<br />
This is where we started, I think. <br />
This was the place God chose to build for us a beautiful foundation. <br />
In this perfectly imperfect little house. <br />
This is where we grew up. Really grew up. <br />
Or at least began to...<br />
This is where we figured out what we wanted our life to be. <br />
This is where our life <em>became </em>what we wanted it to be.<br />
This is where Grace started to make sense.<br />
This is where we tried and failed. And tried again.<br />
This is where we made a family...where we made dear friends. <br />
This is where we made a home.</div>
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Now we are about to build a house. <em>(I think, Lord. Yes?) </em></div>
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A few walls, some paint, endless opportunities to decorate.</div>
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But we know that a <span style="font-size: large;">home</span> has nothing to do with walls, paint, or decor. </div>
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And everything to do with people.</div>
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A home has everything to do with Love.</div>
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We have a home. </div>
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And it's coming with us.</div>
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Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com79tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-55777813800821288302012-01-18T14:54:00.003-06:002012-01-18T15:03:27.346-06:00Making My Bed<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC0zfLb-sTk59_y7whFinfxcMJerWXFztMYmihrN-KRf8enj4kU4nzA4dAcpuDX9XCunWaAbtvBtaEB-ET2HBjqcdCad6WkzmcYgKFNbVbuTUQt1U3guNPaTvsGHS8KYQJz3Ty3uFuTik/s1600/photo+%252818%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400px" nfa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC0zfLb-sTk59_y7whFinfxcMJerWXFztMYmihrN-KRf8enj4kU4nzA4dAcpuDX9XCunWaAbtvBtaEB-ET2HBjqcdCad6WkzmcYgKFNbVbuTUQt1U3guNPaTvsGHS8KYQJz3Ty3uFuTik/s400/photo+%252818%2529.JPG" width="400px" /></a></div><br />
I made up my bed today. <br />
<br />
I know--for most people that is just a given. But it's pretty significant to me. A few years ago I could have convinced Martha Stewart that making up a bed was absolutely insane. I said that it was a pointless task. I hated it and I never, ever, ever did it. <br />
<br />
Thankfully, a couple of years ago I began to learn that my mind, emotions and physical state all work together. It turns out that every area of my life is inextricably linked. Who knew? So basically what I realized is that when my house is a wreck then I am kind of a wreck as well. <br />
<br />
Eventually I had to do one of the most difficult things we have the option to do in life and admit that maybe, just maybe, I could have been wrong about some things. For starters--accepting that perhaps making up the bed could somehow be a good thing?<br />
<br />
So I did it. I made up my bed. I decided that everyday I would just pull up the sheets, throw on the pillows and make it up. It didn't have to look perfect. That wasn't the point. The point was just simply to get it done. So I did it.<br />
<br />
Over and over again.<br />
<br />
It may not seem like a huge thing. Making up a bed? Not a big deal. It's really not. The habit created itself so quietly that I didn't even realize it was mine until today. When I looked at my bed and thought, <em>Now that's nice. You stubborn old mule--THAT'S NICE! </em>And I wouldn't have it any other way.<br />
<br />
Obviously it's not pointless and I don't hate it. It's not insane. Insanity is always doing things the same way but expecting different results...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhby2Fk8MAcDVnaxTlwr8pbxsYOuog31un5w_Tjm99dyN2sFnpmM7oZmLoyIFKDuZiLjNdae8VBzc_1Ja8ZoivvO0s6RD0uuDJ_4493j1FB1ql8V6vteMAbixyuMAEjn8SIYCxsaxqwb0s/s1600/photo+%252817%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400px" nfa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhby2Fk8MAcDVnaxTlwr8pbxsYOuog31un5w_Tjm99dyN2sFnpmM7oZmLoyIFKDuZiLjNdae8VBzc_1Ja8ZoivvO0s6RD0uuDJ_4493j1FB1ql8V6vteMAbixyuMAEjn8SIYCxsaxqwb0s/s400/photo+%252817%2529.JPG" width="400px" /></a> </div><br />
And I hope it's apparent that this is not about whether or not a bed should be made. At all...<br />
<br />
<strong><span font-size:="" large;?="" new="" roman?,="" serif;="" style="font-family: Georgia,;" times="">"They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself." Andy Warhol</span></strong><br />
<br />
It was one thing. Just one small thing. That I changed. <br />
<br />
An accomplished housekeeper I am not. I will never be. Actually, you know what? Scratch that. Maybe I will be one day! Maybe one day my house will be on the cover of Martha Stewart's magazine and she will interview me about my mad housekeeping skills. Yes! And we will laugh about how I used to never make up my bed.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><img height="375px" id="il_fi" src="http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/ABPub/2008/09/18/2008188132.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="296px" /></div><br />
You just never know... Right, Martha? But for now, a made-up bed is good enough for me.Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-30935477592645326702011-12-29T20:02:00.000-06:002011-12-29T20:02:35.930-06:00Thank You, Charlie SheenA couple of funny things from the kids mouths today... <br />
<br />
First was Glory. We received some chopsticks for Christmas and she wanted to eat her macaroni and cheese with the them. I told her she could try but it would be pretty difficult. She asked why it would be difficult and I told her because we weren't used to eating with chopsticks, we always eat with a fork. And then she asked who <em>did</em> eat with chopsticks. I told her that lots of people do but that Chinese people are really good at eating with chopsticks because in China they eat with chopsticks like we eat with forks. <br />
<br />
Then she said, "Mommy, I know how to say 'Chinese' in Spanish." I asked how. "Oklahoma," she informed me.<br />
<br />
Okaaaay.<br />
<br />
Then for Jonah's funny. We were driving home in the dark and he and Glory were in the back. All of a sudden I hear him yelling, "I'm WINNING! I'm WINNING!" <br />
<br />
(Just let it be said--I am <em>such</em> an idiot.)<br />
<br />
I yell, "JONAH! Where did you hear that!?" He just kept yelling I'M WINNING over and over again. I was astonished that he was saying this. Finally he said "What mom? I'm winning! Me and Glory are racing." <br />
<br />
Oh, yeah. Get a grip, <em>Mom</em>. <br />
<br />
*Sigh*Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-1452875317829985422011-12-26T23:42:00.001-06:002011-12-28T17:35:57.802-06:00Books for 2012I have purchased several books on my Kindle that I have not read entirely. I just keep buying new ones, reading about 1/3 and then getting the next one. It is so EASY to do on the Kindle and for a book lover it can really get out of hand. I have got to stop it. So for 2012, I am not going to read any new books but rather finish the ones I have already started. It happens that there are 12, one for each month. <br />
<br />
Here they are:<br />
<br />
<em>The Pursuit of God</em>, A.W. Tozer<br />
<em>Jesus + Nothing = Everything</em>, Tullian Tchividjian<br />
<em>The Holiness of God</em>, R.C. Sproul<br />
<em>What is the Gospel?</em>, Greg Gilbert<br />
<em>You Lost Me</em>, David Kinnaman<br />
<em>Give Them Grace</em>, Elyse Fitzpatrick<br />
<em>Gospel</em>, JD Greer<br />
<em>The Discipline of Grace</em>, Gerald Bridges<br />
<em>Freedom of the Will</em>, Jonathan Edwards<br />
<em>The Reign of Grace</em>, Scotty Smith<br />
<em>To Live is Christ</em>, Beth Moore<br />
<em>The Problem of Pain</em>, CS Lewis<br />
<br />
Perhaps I will write about each one as I finish in an effort to hold myself accountable. Perhaps.<br />
<br />
What are you reading?Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-62284944247433273172011-11-24T20:05:00.001-06:002011-11-24T20:07:32.078-06:00I am thankful for the gospel.In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. 1 John 4:9<br />
<br />
"Our greatest need before conversion is the gospel, and our greatest need after conversion is the gospel. We never move on, only deeper in." Burk Parsons<br />
<br />
Thankful for to be moving deeper by His grace. Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-59826097980004317312011-11-23T12:11:00.002-06:002011-11-23T12:14:46.561-06:00On ToleranceIs putting up with someone the same thing as loving them? <br />
<br />
Suspecting that I already knew the answer, I recently asked the Lord to shed some light on this for me. If I don't agree with someone or don't relate with them...if I am annoyed with them or maybe they are just not very nice to me...as a Christian I am commanded to love these people. I know this. But as a human, I am inclined to reject them. So the solution for me has always been to just "put up with them." But is this love? Putting up with people? <br />
<br />
The word that the Lord first brought to mind as I contemplated this is <em>tolerance</em>. I came to realize that what I do much of the time is merely the practice of tolerance. Somewhat of a buzz word in our culture today, tolerance is generally considered to be a good thing and apparently I have embraced it, too. I have believed that if I just put up with these people, behave myself around them, keep my thoughts about them to myself, then I am demonstrating love. If I can just manage a smile and some formal niceties when I am around them, then I am being a good Christian. <br />
<br />
But the practice of tolerance, or putting up with people, is a far cry from the love of Christ. Think about how God demonstrates his love: "while we were still sinners he died for us" (Rom 5:8), and that Christ suffered...for the unrighteous...to bring us to God (1 Peter 3:18) Christ suffered, to the point of death, for a <em>relationship</em>. Not tolerance. <br />
<br />
Tolerance is everything we can give of ourselves without suffering. It's literally <em>all we can do</em> to tolerate someone. It is a man-made plan that leaves God totally out of the picture. Tolerance is a way that seems "doable." Loving requires something more. Loving will always require us to suffer. Loving will always require grace. Loving will always require surrender and dependence. What God has revealed to me is that I'm tolerating quite a bit, but not loving much at all.<br />
<br />
We are certainly called to tolerate people. But there's more to it than that. The question is, am I tolerating someone in love or out of a self-righteous attempt to be good or even politically correct? The way to tell the difference is by asking the question, <em>Is the goal of my tolerance of this person to have a relationship with them? </em>If the answer is no then we have tolerance with out love. The result of tolerance alone will always be indifference while the hope and goal of tolerance<strong> in</strong> <strong>love</strong> will always be <strong>relationship</strong>. <br />
<br />
When we settle for tolerance, we ignore what God does through Love. Intentionally, sincerely, selflessly, sacrificially, relentlessly--He pursues us, He loves us. Tolerance is a cheap substitute for Love.<br />
<br />
<em>Therefore I, the prisoner of the Lord, implore you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing tolerance for one another in love, being diligent to preserve the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.There is one body and one Spirit, just as also you were called in one hope of your calling; one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all who is over all and through all and in all. But to each one of us grace was given according to the measure of Christ’s gift. (Eph 4:1-7, NASB)</em>Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-83091393231475366162011-11-15T08:48:00.001-06:002011-11-15T08:49:59.546-06:00I'm thankful for the truth.The truth hurts, but it sets us free. <br />
<br />
The significant moments of my life, or times that I can look back now and see breakthrough, are all marked with a stark realization of truth. The truth was usually painful, whether to me or someone else. That it was painful never changed the fact that it was <em>truth</em>. <br />
<br />
I think sometimes the truth can seem so overwhelming because we don't see how it can ever be worked out in our lives. There are many times that I run from the truth because it seems impossible to deal with. But Jesus said, “What is impossible with men is possible with God.”(Luke 18:27 ESV) Even when we don't want to believe the truth, God can help. He will do it. (1 Thes 5:24)<br />
<br />
The truth is that Jesus came to set us free from the lies that Satan has been whispering in our ear since the beginning of time. I'm so very thankful for the Truth that is the power to demolish strongholds. I'm thankful for the Truth that came to set captives, like me, free. <br />
<br />
Truth = Life. <br />
<br />
<em>Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. (John 14:6 ESV)</em>Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-82428330976869544032011-11-08T14:01:00.000-06:002011-11-08T14:01:22.340-06:00I'm thankful for the moments.Yesterday the kids and I were driving down a country road. We rounded a corner and looked up to see a huge rainbow. It was awesome. We talked about the promises of God. Soon we noticed that we were surrounded by the most beautiful fall foliage that I believe I have ever seen in Texas. We were talking about the amazing artist that God is. Jonah was saying things like, "This has got to be some of God's best work!" I just love that kid. <br />
<br />
I couldn't imagine this little after-school drive getting any better until Jonah suddenly broke out into the sweetest most loving rendition of <em>This is My Father's World.</em> The mother-tears were falling and I was just beginning to construct the Face book post in my head that would basically say "My child is perfect and awesome. Don't you wish you had a child like mine?" when a text pops up on my phone from a friend whose child was with Jonah at recess. It reads: <em>Word is, Jonah kissed a girl on the playground today.</em> <br />
<br />
Say whaaa? Nice, God. Thank you for that huge piece of humble pie right in the middle of this perfect moment, I thought. But the more I pondered, I knew what my Father was doing. He is always revealing himself. Even in the small, seemingly insignificant moments of our lives. <br />
<br />
What happened yesterday is something I'll never forget. The rainbow reminded me of the mercy and promises of God. My kissing kid reminds me that none of us, even our babies, are basically "good" at heart, rather we are rebellious at heart. (Jonah knows not to kiss girls. Ugh.) Despite this, there is always the artistry and changing power of God for us to behold. And definitely my favorite part was the sweet song of praise--the response of a child who knows he has been promised a Savior, yet is still very rebellious, and is daily being changed by God's love.<br />
<br />
The Gospel. All of it right there in the moment.Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-13308759871851694532011-11-07T15:06:00.000-06:002011-11-07T15:06:37.288-06:00I'm thankful for snuggling.Snuggling is something we like to do around here. It's really an awesome expression of love; one of my favorites. It requires a commitment. You can't do a quick snuggle. You can't force snuggling and you can't really fake it. If snuggling could talk it would say: "I don't need your words, I don't need your actions. I don't need anything from you. I just want to be near you and want you to be near me."<br />
<br />
Snuggling. Yep, its pretty great.Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-77359892878212989752011-11-07T06:00:00.001-06:002011-11-07T06:00:22.221-06:00Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-90623897481688810082011-11-05T07:15:00.001-05:002011-11-05T07:31:56.473-05:00Day 5: I'm thankful for doubt.Doubt. Seems like an odd thing to be thankful for. For many years I was so afraid of the doubts I had, that I spent much of my energy trying to not even think them. Finally that kind of bottling up became too much to handle and my doubt, or unbelief, basically exploded. Thankfully it landed at the feet of Jesus. He picked up the pieces and slowly began to put them back together, but in a way that made sense. <br />
<br />
I was afraid that my doubts would be too big for Him, but they weren't. In fact, He was just waiting for me to bring them; he already knew. He wasn't afraid of my doubts or shocked by them as I had feared. Quite the contrary. Fully knowing and anticipating this, He died for my unbelief many, many years ago. I know this may seem confusing because to "believe" on the name of Jesus Christ is what saves a life and yet I am saying that unbelief lead to my life being saved. What happened is that my unbelief, when cast upon the Living Word of God, turned into belief. One by one my doubts were settled and faith arose inside of me. A dead heart was made alive. I began to truly believe.<br />
<br />
The interesting thing is that doubt and unbelief continue to pop up in my life. Every day. At the root of every sinful act is a lack of belief in the promises of God. That HE knows best. That HE is faithful. That HE will provide. That HE is in control. That HE has the plan. That HE loves me. How many times do I <em>not</em> believe?! Many. This is my skeptical, unbelieving nature. This is the nature that so desperately needs the touch of a Savior, every single day. <br />
<br />
Romans 5:8 says that God <em>demonstrates</em> His love for me in this: even knowing I would be a sinner, Christ <em>died</em> for me. The payment has been made. It is finished. But He demonstrates this love every day as I am <em>reminded</em> that it is finished. This knowledge is what allows me to truly live. He died for the sin of yesterday, today and every tomorrow. Even my doubts...even my unbelief...all of it covered by the blood, once and for all, at the cross. Removed as far as the east is from the west. This is the vast, incomparable, unfathomable love of God. <br />
<br />
If I never had any doubts, I wouldn't have gone searching for the Truth. So thankful for that doubt and the God who handles it.<br />
<em></em><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq"><em>Mark 9: 20-25</em><br />
<em><br />
</em><br />
<em>So they brought him. When the spirit saw Jesus, it immediately threw the boy into a convulsion. He fell to the ground and rolled around, foaming at the mouth. </em><br />
<em><br />
</em><br />
<em>Jesus asked the boy’s father, “How long has he been like this?” </em><br />
<em><br />
</em><br />
<em>“From childhood,” he answered. “It has often thrown him into fire or water to kill him. But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.” </em><br />
<em><br />
</em><br />
<em>“‘If you can’?” said Jesus. “Everything is possible for one who believes.” </em><br />
<em><br />
</em><br />
<em>Immediately the boy’s father exclaimed,<strong> “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”</strong></em><br />
<em><br />
</em><br />
<em>When Jesus saw that a crowd was running to the scene, he rebuked the impure spirit. “You deaf and mute spirit,” he said, “I command you, come out of him and never enter him again.”</em></blockquote>Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-16790440210255057132011-11-04T07:28:00.001-05:002011-11-04T07:30:51.369-05:00Day 4: I'm thankful for perfectionist tendencies.I have to wake up every morning and remind myself that today is <em>not</em> the day. Today is not the day that I am going to get perfect. It's not the day that I am going to do everything just right, please every person, get it all done, avoid every temptation, reach every goal, meet every need. Not today. Today I will try. I will pray and I will lean. I will lean on others to bear my burdens and I will lean on God so that his strength can be made perfect in my weakness. <br />
<br />
Today is not the day that I will get perfect on my own. But I'm thankful for the desire to be perfect because it makes Ecclesiastes 3:11 so very real to me:<br />
<br />
<em><strong>He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.</strong></em><br />
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In the deepest part of my soul I long for perfection and the reason is because God has set eternity in my heart. An eternity with Him, with no sin. Perfection. That is what I long for but I rest in knowing that it will never happen in this messed-up world or in my messed-up heart until we are all face to face with Jesus Christ.<br />
<br />
Everything beautiful in its time. I can not imagine that place but I know it is my home. This world is not. Thank GOD.<br />
<br />
<em>“If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.” ― C.S. Lewis</em>Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-57172965392362037562011-11-03T09:19:00.000-05:002011-11-03T09:19:58.721-05:00Day 3: I'm thankful for the ability to create.On the season's first crisp, cool morning like today, I am always reminded of "what might have been." When I was in the 3rd grade my mother would wake me up every morning to take a shower. I had to walk all the way to the other side of the house and for some reason it was way colder over there. The commode seat was painfully cold! I distinctly recall the moment that I invented the commode seat warmer. I told mom about it and that there should be one. Sadly, I was eight and did not know how to get a patent. So every November when the shouts of "Woah!" or "Aye-yai-yai!" come from the bathroom, I can only imagine what my life would be like if my invention had become reality. If you love this idea, it can become a reality for you. Apparently someone knows how to follow their dream. <a href="http://www.toastietush.com/">Get your toastie tush here.</a><br />
<br />
When I think about the toasty tush idea, I realize that from very early on I had a desire to create things. More than just things, but also a desire to create ideas and stories and relationships. The more that I learn about my Creator, the more this innate desire makes sense. Indeed we were created by a Creator and in the image of a Creator, therefor we are prone to create. Culture is proof of this, according to Andy Crouch, who wrote a hugely important book entitled Culture Making. He says, "Culture is, first of all, the name for our relentless, restless human effort to take the world as it's given to us and make something else. This is the original insight of the writer of Genesis when he says that human beings were made in God's image: just like the original Creator, we are creators." <br />
<br />
I am a creator. I was made to be. We all were. When people say, "I'm just not creative..." that's balogna! Your Creator says you are (Genesis 1:27). Creativity is simply taking what you have, right where you are and making something with it. Creativity might mean coming up with new and fun ways to engage your children in meaningful conversation. It could be as simple as starting a new dialogue "around the water cooler" that promotes a positive way of thinking about the high calling of our daily work. It could mean that you invent the most amazing product of this century and when people look at you, you point to your Creator. We have to think, and strive to be creators. It's not easy, but engaging in creativity is our responsibility. It's an amazing tool God has given us to show the world who He is.<br />
<br />
Sometimes I think we (especially women) confuse being "crafty" and being "creative." There is absolutely nothing wrong with being crafty--that means having the ability to execute a plan. That can be a perfectly good thing. But, it is very different than being creative (which remember, we all are) Creative means: <br />
<br />
1) marked by the ability or power to create<br />
2) having the quality of something created rather than imitated. <br />
<br />
Creativity does not equal "crafty." Ironically, crafty is a word used to describe Satan (Genesis 3:1). Hmm. Satan uses all of God's ideas and tweaks them just a tiny bit. But he can't come up with any of his own material. His only plan is to diminish the glory of God and is dang good at executing it. I think a huge way that he does this is by convincing people that they aren't creative. That they are like him. So they never try to make anything of the world around them. They settle and they copy. Because they believe that's all they are capable of. That's a lie. God's creation has been given the ability to not only execute a plan but to <em>create</em>. Not to copy the world around us but to create by using the things that the ultimate Creator has made out of nothing! This is a wonderfully exciting picture of how God desires to use his people.<br />
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In our efforts to create, let this always be our hearts aim--To point back to our Creator. To point others to our Creator. To use this mind and the hands that God has given us to bring him glory in different, special, <em>creative </em>ways! What an offering that would be.<br />
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<em><strong>Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands! Psalm 90:17</strong></em>Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-83432037681957527602011-11-01T23:38:00.007-05:002011-11-01T23:51:40.112-05:00Day 1: I'm thankful for the coffee.I thought I'd start this month of gratitude off on a lighter note. You know, save the biggies for later in the month. Although coffee does hold a pretty special place in my heart.<br />
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Coffee is basically awesome. <br />
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It is, it really is. You can make it taste like fruit, dessert...diesel as I sometimes prefer. It is versatile. Tastes good hot or cold. In ice cream and chocolate frosting. I even have a candle that smells like coffee for when I am not consuming it.<br />
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Coffee travels well and makes traveling delightful. Even a trip to have a mole removed becomes a joy when you are able to bring along a nice, hot, huge disposable cup of coffee with lots of sugary, syrupy creamer in it. What mole? Coffee. Yum. <br />
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(I've never actually had a mole removed but if I <em>did</em> have to, I would want coffee, I'm sure.)<br />
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Coffee attracts people also. Really awesome people who naturally love to chat. Coffee always=chat. Sometimes coffee=deep, life-altering conversations. Either way it's coffee+talking and that always =FABULOUS in my book. If you've shared coffee with me, chances are you share life with me, too and I love you. And I'm thankful for you, you coffee-loving fool.<br />
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What can make an ordinary, loathsome trip to Wal Mart just a smidge tolerable? I'll tell you what. Knowing that for a few bright shining moments, right before you hit the freezer section, you're gonna get to experience the greatness that is "The Coffee Aisle." Multiple brands, strengths and flavors of java. When you consider that very close by is the vast array of creamers that change with the seasons, just like decor at Hobby Lobby, you remember that the combination possibilities are endless. This is what you put your focus on for the remainder of the shopping trip--brewing the strongest pot of coffee you ever had as soon and you get home. Even before you get the groceries put up. Either that or you think about driving through a Starbucks as soon as you check out. All of this hope in the middle of the most horrific place in Grayson County! It's beautiful.<br />
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I love the anticipation during a meal shared with friends, "Who will want to have coffee with me? How many cups will I need to make? How strong should I make it? What flavors will I offer?" (By the way, I can't really trust anyone who drinks weak coffee. Just saying.) <br />
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Anyway, I'm thankful for the coffee. And for the people who drink it with me, in person and in spirit.Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4407284968559018199.post-44430145182113774562011-09-05T19:16:00.003-05:002011-09-05T19:20:21.242-05:00Meekness & Not-So-Precious Moments<em>Commit your way to the LORD; trust in him and he will do this: He will make your righteous reward shine like the dawn, your vindication like the noonday sun. Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him; do not fret when people succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes. Refrain from anger and turn from wrath; do not fret—it leads only to evil. For those who are evil will be destroyed, but those who hope in the LORD will inherit the land. A little while, and the wicked will be no more; though you look for them, they will not be found. But the meek will inherit the land and enjoy peace and prosperity. Psalm 37:5-11</em><br />
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<em>Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth. Matt. 5:5</em><br />
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Recently, I have been feeling like I need to learn about meekness and what it's all about. Because I know I'm a lot of things, but pretty sure meek is not one of them. For some reason, anytime I think of or see the word <em>meek</em> I get an image of a little girl. Specifically a Precious Moments girl, cleaning. Weird, right? Funny thing, I just googled "Meek + Precious Moments" and this is what popped up:<br />
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<img height="292px" id="il_fi" src="http://i7.ebayimg.com/01/i/001/2a/4e/ec15_35.JPG" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="300px" /><br />
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Ha! Apparently I was exposed to this mug at some point in my life because this is the quiet little cleaning girl that I have always associated with meekness! I am going to have to get one of these mugs, for sure...<br />
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Thanks to the people at Precious Moments (and to this <a href="http://www.desiringgod.org/resource-library/sermons/blessed-are-the-meek">John Piper sermon from 1986</a>) I now have a pretty good initial grasp of what meekness looks like and look forward to learning more. I highly recommend listening and studying the scripture, but here is the short version:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">The Meek</span>:</div><div style="text-align: center;">Trust in God</div><div style="text-align: center;">Commit their ways to Him</div><div style="text-align: center;">are quiet and wait on the Lord </div><div style="text-align: center;">Don't fret over the wicked</div><div style="text-align: center;">Posses peaceful freedom from fretful anger</div><div style="text-align: center;">Roll their anxieties onto the Lord</div><div style="text-align: center;">are not defensive</div><div style="text-align: center;">are eager to learn</div><div style="text-align: center;">are slow to speak and quick to listen <a class="lbsBibleRef" data-reference="James 1.19–21" data-version="ESV" href="http://biblia.com/bible/esv/James%201.19%E2%80%9321" target="_blank"><strong><span style="color: #ab1013;">James 1:19–21</span></strong></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">are slow to anger (note: this is different from never being angry)</div><div style="text-align: center;">are open to reason </div><div style="text-align: center;">are open to correction</div><div style="text-align: center;">Count the blows of a friend as precious (ouch!)</div><div style="text-align: center;">Critique others only from the deep conviction of their own fallibility <a class="lbsBibleRef" data-reference="Galatians 6.1–2" data-version="ESV" href="http://biblia.com/bible/esv/Galatians%206.1%E2%80%932" target="_blank"><strong><span style="color: #ab1013;">Galatians 6:1–2</span></strong></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Care more about the truth than being right (whoa!)</div><br />
Loved this insight:<br />
<blockquote>"Too often we think this is the spirit of meekness. Two people making no claim on the other person's opinion, refusing to submit their own opinion to an independent standard of truth, unwilling to make themselves vulnerable to the claims of truth and the possible need to admit error—that is not the spirit of meekness, no matter how soft-spoken or self-effacing it looks on the outside. It is not self-effacing. It is self-protecting and truth effacing. What could be more serviceable to the spirit of pride than the view that neither you nor I have to give an account of our opinions before any standard but our own private selves."</blockquote>One other thing Piper talked about in this is when you are having one of those days that is absolutely rotten, everything is going horrible and just when you think it can't get any worse...you bang your head on a cabinet or something like that...and you just want to go off on anyone or anything you can. Well, meekness doesn't do that. Meekness just absorbs that blow and keeps on going, joyfully.<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">So being the Teacher that He is, of course this morning I dropped my coffee cup on the floor and it went everywhere. All over me, my computer, the floor and just a bit ago I saw that it had even splashed up on the ceiling, too! The morning I had leading up to the coffee was NOT the greatest and I was thinking that the cup of coffee was going to be God's little gift to me for making it through everything else meekly. Ha! I won't say what actually happened when I dropped the cup (What do you think happened?!)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Me, meek? Not so much. I was kinda scared to learn about meekness because I thought I was going to have to stop talking as much and like dusting more. Turns out--it's going to be waaaay harder than just that! But the good news is that I have a Helper and the most valuable of rewards awaiting.</div><blockquote>"The quietness and openness and vulnerability of meekness is a very beautiful and a very painful thing. It goes against all that we are by our sinful nature. It requires supernatural help. And that help is available, thank God!</blockquote><blockquote>And the primary way that he will help you is to assure your heart that you are a fellow heir of Jesus Christ and that the world and everything in it is yours. He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, will he not freely give us all things with him? All things! No good thing will he withhold from those who walk uprightly." </blockquote><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="[meek.jpg]" border="0" height="400px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-rAVKKvDYVWsNJoPSMBr-nQPPiVttQWsiEB3v3Og38uh2H_MG8ATrDZ2e8YNMEAa1PtPjsX2rB5LNrdew8U_t-PLaQvoMvwz_vRbSsEJGaibfhWepu64JUcd_IKt2WW1FhHhtedWA8I4f/s400/meek.jpg" width="322px" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><em>*All quotations in this post came from </em><a href="http://www.desiringgod.org/resource-library/sermons/blessed-are-the-meek"><em>Desiring God</em></a>, <em>Blessed Are the Meek.</em>Keeliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05949437924682031860noreply@blogger.com1