An Answered Prayer

This post is dedicated to my friend, M, for being there for me in a BIG way today.

Tonight on the way home, I stopped by the grocery store to grab a few staples - milk, yogurt, etc. While there, my husband texted: he was in the mood for some ice cream. So when I'd gone through my list, I finished off my shopping in the frozen foods aisle.

As I made my decisions, a man walked up beside me and grabbed some ice cream as well, making an off-hand comment about whether or not I like Haagen Dazs. I smiled politely and replied that it didn't really matter to me - I was just looking for certain flavors. He kept talking and I kept looking for my ice cream, being polite but not overly friendly, but getting a little more uncomfortable with the fact that he kept talking to me. As I was walking away, he said, "I'm going to do something for you - I'm going to buy you this Haagen Dazs ice cream."

"No, that's alright," I replied.

But he insisted. "I'll just have to find you after I check out, and give this to you," he continued.

"I'm checking out now," I told him. I really just wanted to get out of there as soon as I could without him following me.

"Well, I am too," he said. As he followed me from the ice cream aisle to the check-out line, he started to ask more personal questions like where I was from and where I'd gone to school. And somewhere in those few steps, I began to PANIC. I needed a rescue. I needed to get to my car without him seeing where I was parked. I needed to know he wasn't scoping me out like a predator seeks out unsuspecting women. I needed God to miraculously intervene on my behalf. I prayed for all these things as I scanned my yogurt and my milk and my ice cream.

As I finished paying, mind racing with what to do next, afraid to lift my eyes, I heard a voice, "Hey, J!" And I looked up and met eyes with one of my husband's good buddies. Honest to goodness, I felt like kissing him...but I didn't. ;) When his wife (and my friend), M, walked up behind him, though, I hugged her tightly while quickly explaining the sketchy situation and begging her to walk me to her car in case the man followed me to the parking lot. She got her keys from her husband, and we walked toward the door together. We passed the man, who extended the ice cream to me, but clearly picked up the signals that I was finished with our conversation. As we walked to the car, I recounted all that had happened while she watched for signs of the man following us. When she determined that he was nowhere to be seen, we redirected to my car to load the groceries.

I know some people would've been more verbally combative with him - I'm not great with words under pressure, so I did what I always do: shut down and walk away. Some people I know would have noticed those red flags a LOT sooner than I did - it's true that I was definitely naive to the potential peril. However it happened, though - I do know one thing for sure: my God was my Deliverer tonight. He answered my prayer - overtly and immediately. He protected me from what was certainly a sketchy, if not dangerous, situation. And He loves me. He really, really loves me.

Our God is a God of salvation, and to GOD, the Lord, belong deliverances from death. -Psalm 68:20

Some Things Are Just Meant To Be...

Being Real is Scary

This vulnerability thing really is a tough one for me. I'm always surprised when someone opens up and shares something precious to them with me - I don't have incredible social skills, so I've always wondered what happened to get us to a place where they felt like they could trust me with such valuable information. But I listen. I pray. I try very hard to let God do the judging and the correcting and the teaching, and I simply take in. I pray again that they don't ask for my advice - my social skills don't usually let me move quickly enough to be able to offer something of value. I'm a processor, not a reactor. I don't take sides quickly because honestly it takes me a while to even figure out what the game is and decide if I should be in it or on the sidelines.

I've sat down at the computer what seems like a million times over the past couple of weeks to write down some of the thoughts swirling through my brain. I've got a lot that I really want to capture in writing - a lot about life, a lot about lessons I'm learning, a lot about some great people that I'm learning valuable lessons from, a lot about this incredible family that God has blessed me with. But every time I sit down, my hands freeze on the keypad. As much as I want to say what is going on in this brain of mine, I'll admit that sometimes I'm just a little terrified that there's a person out there reading my words as if I'm something other than a sinner saved by grace. I get nervous when I look back over my older posts and realize I've said something that could've been taken offensively or made a side comment that might not have represented Jesus the way that I mean to. I hate that one phrase or even one word could be held against me forever simply because I decided to write it down. It's vulnerable. It's scary. It's something that my flesh has been fighting against for a while now.

It's easy most days to write about E. She's young, mostly innocent of wrong, and her life is filled with joy on most occasions. But parenting is not my highest calling - loving God with all of my heart, mind, soul and strength is. It's easy to get confused sometimes and start working out my salvation on my own terms by doing the things that come most natural to me. What comes natural is different for everybody, but for me, parenting seems to come pretty naturally at this stage of life. It's tempting to throw all of my effort and energy into the task of being a mom, and I'll be honest - really rewarding on most days. It's harder to serve a God that I can't pin down and isn't controlled by my behavioral psychology - I must submit to HIS ways and trust HIS goodness, even when I can't explain it in any tangible or logical way. (Side note: If I served a God I could control in any way, He would be inferior to my power; therefore NOT A GOD. Just sayin'.)

So I've been asking myself this question...why do I write if it is so scary? Why am I compelled to put my thoughts into words even though I hold my breath every time I press the "post" button? Is it because I want to capture moments of life that I don't want to ever forget? Is it for the benefit of future generations? Is it for the family members that live too far away to see E regularly?

Yes........but ultimately, no. I write because God tells me to. In the end, I am accountable to Him and Him Alone. He is the One who knows and is able to judge the intentions of my heart with every word I write. I hope that one day future generations will be able to look back and see a great grandmother's life lived out before her True King, but even if they do not, I am here now - doing this one thing in obedience to my Savior and God. My ultimate hope is to glorify Him through the words that I write. If I take a social misstep here or there, well - that is all definitely easy for this gal to do now and again. I hold to these words as a reminder of my God who will forever have His mighty grip on me:

"I am glad He is God... and I am not.
He knows... when I do not know.
He is able... when I am not able.
He does it... when I can't do it.
He loves when I do not even know where to begin... and keeps on loving even when I fall short."

Soli deo gloria!!

What Do Eggs Have To Do With Easter?

I've received quite a bit of flack for taking seriously my responsibility to inform my friends, family and co-workers that egg hunting has nothing to do with Jesus' resurrection. After all, I learned this very important lesson from my husband on no less than the Wal-mart Easter aisle during our last date night.

In support of my new-found soapbox, I found this card at Target:

When I stumbled upon this card, I almost had to sit down on the floor I was laughing so hard. I mean, seriously - this is some good satire.

I've thought a lot about the words "balance" and "traditions" when it comes to celebrating the good ol' Easter bunny. Sometimes I think we as Christians can justify being disobedient to that still small voice of Jesus by covering up our actions with words like these. Are traditions and balance inherently wrong? Of course not! But if God is calling our little family to swim upstream against the societal norm of ________ (fill-in-the-blank), then I have to trust that He is doing intentionally for our benefit; that He - in His infinite wisdom - has a very specific plan and purpose for our lives in which we need to not be accustomed to that luxury or lifestyle. This is not a "judgment" call - it's an obedience call (in other words - having much or having little is neither good nor bad - it's all about walking within the will of God and obeying Him with what He has given us). So often I fall into the trap of making decisions based on social norms and customs instead of based on His whispers. I did that when we purchased our first house, and now we're getting ready to sell it for most likely a substantial loss (sigh).

When God whispers to us - when He breathes a radical, countercultural idea into our souls - it is always for His glory and for our good. Though we may not understand why God has impressed upon us a particular lens through which we see the world (in this case for me: egg hunts), we have to trust that He has a good plan and a beautiful purpose, and hold on to the glorious revealing of His completed works one day.

The LORD said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by." Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. Then a voice said to him, "What are you doing here, Elijah?" -1 Kings 19:11-13 NIV

My Little Black-Eyed Pea

Sooooo...if you live in our town and were walking or eating downtown tonight, you might've noticed a sweet little kiddo bouncing down the sidewalk with a ponytail and a cookie and a huge smile across her sweet little mouth.............right under the HUGE BLACK EYE that she got playing in my office last night.

This is not a wimpy little black eye, folks. It's the real deal. The funny part is, every time we passed someone, there was a noticeable trend: "Smile at the cute kid....wait for it....wait for it.....gawk at the black eye....then turn to check out the daddy to see if he looked like a potential offender." Hilarious. Funnier is that she was really proud of it and would point it out and talk about it even to a complete stranger, leaving them in a true conundrum of what might really be going on in our household.

I'm not thrilled that our Easter pictures consist of a major shiner, but then again - it could have been much worse, so I'm thankful that a shiner is all we got. After you get over the initial shock, it's even a little bit sweet, don't you think?

Chocolate

This is a 3-minute video that you are welcome to skip over. I promise it won't hurt my feelings. I certainly could have edited to make it much more concise, but then you would never understand how "unscripted" this event really was. You might even wonder if it really even happened the way it did.

But there are some moments in life that really are priceless. Some of them we are lucky enough to capture on film so that we can keep forever (as, ahem, blackmail).

Tonight I was lucky, and I really needed to prove to anyone who watches that this is just - plain and simple - real life with my little kiddo. :)

So Great

Today has been a hard day for many friends of mine. Though I did not know him personally, I understand that Mike Sweeney has lived a life that epitomizes Philippians 1:21, "For [Mike Sweeney], to live is Christ, AND to die is gain. He both lived in the fullness of Christ, and died to the gain of his Heavenly Father, leaving an incredible legacy of faith with his loved ones.

As I sat in church yesterday, I noticed a verse written on the dry erase board on the wall (our church is a school during the week), and the words hit me so powerfully in that moment that I had to write them down. It holds a lot of weight with many stories of cancer and unexpected loss and death that seems to just be happening all around me right now.

"Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men." Lamentations 3:32-33

How is it possible that an all-powerful, all-knowing, almighty God can unwillingly bring grief? Honestly, I do not have His mind, and I do not have the answer to that question. Lamentations 3 is full of the writer's conflict between the same God who purposes both calamity and good, who seemingly allows injustice to reign over a believer's life for a season before stepping forth and defending the cause of His beloved.

I'm not sure why, but I am intensely drawn toward the picture that God is tender and compassionate with me during the midst of the very trials that he ordained. Toward a God whose heart breaks as the waves he has made crash over me. Toward a God who is mysteriously able to sew painful stitches to heal a sinful, broken part of me.

Is He safe? No, but He's good. He's the King, I tell ya.