So I've been pondering the name of this blog, wondering if it's time for a change or if I should even keep blogging at all. It seems to have run its course. Served its purpose. But then again, the sorrow seems to keep coming. Not that anything dramatic has happened, but God keeps changing my heart and it seems to involve more grief, repentance and obedience. It is good and humbling.
It started with this gentle voice, "Michelle, it's time to forgive." I ignored the voice for awhile. But then I noticed that I seemed to have lost the peace that I once had. Once you have peace and then it's gone, well, it gets your attention.
So I asked, "Lord, what's wrong? Something is amiss."
"Yes, it is time to forgive."
Insert major digging in of heels.
"No, no way. I'm not ready. I want justice!"
But the topic kept popping up. Conversations with friends. Songs on the radio. Convicting Scripture (Matthew 18). It seems I was being called, maybe even commanded, to forgive.
So I told Him, "I'm really getting the message that this is something that I need to work on. But I don't want to. Not in the least."
"No problem, lets work on changing your desire."
"Ok, but you have to do it Lord. I'm not interested in even thinking about forgiving. Can you give me that desire?"
"Beloved, I am God. Trust me."
***Warning: dangerous prayer alert. Do not try this at home.****
"Ok, help me to see that ways that I need forgiveness. Maybe that will soften my heart and make forgiving easier."
"I'm on it."
This started off a series of events in which I have found/am finding myself deeply convicted and humbled by my own sin and daily need for forgiveness. It grieves me. But it is a good grief, the kind that leads to repentance and softens hearts. A kind of sorrow that, hopefully, will give me the strength to forgive. I'll keep you posted...
Monday, November 19, 2012
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
first day of school
I know it is well into October already, but I just had to share a couple of pics from the first day of school...
First day of first grade: sign says "I love school"
First day of preschool:
First day of first grade: sign says "I love school"
First day of preschool:
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
farewell summer
We will miss you, summer. We will miss your lazy and fun-filled days. We will miss sleeping in and hanging out in pjs until noon. We will miss free evenings with no homework, no activities and staying up late. Until next year...
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
discipline
We are readers in this house. I have been reading to the kids since they were babies. It is part of our bedtime routine every, every, every night. After the kids have their pjs on they can each pick out a book (sometimes 2 depending on if we have to be up early or not) and we gather together in the big bed for story time, then snuggles, then sweet dreams.
Problem was, one night last week, Donovan was refusing to get his pjs on. He just had better things to do I guess. So after asking him to comply a couple of times, after warning him a couple of times, after getting down and looking directly in his face and saying "get your jammies on now or else you will have a consequence that you do not like", he still was naked as the day he came into this world. Perhaps I gave him too many chances, too many warnings. Perhaps he didn't believe that the consequence would ever come. But it did.
I do not read stories to kids who don't listen. No reading for you tonight.
WHAT!?!
You would have thought that I cut off his arm the way he was carrying on. But these tears were the real thing. Poor kid could hardly catch his breath long enough to brush his teeth with the tears still streaming down. He was wailing, sobbing, begging for story time. He said, "this is breaking my heart, mama." And he was breaking mine. The sobbing continued for 30 solid minutes. Every time he said, "Please, please mama! Just one story! Don't you love me anymore?" I totally wanted to cave. He wasn't being manipulative, just expressing his sincere feelings and I wanted to give into his pleading more than anything. But I held firm. I knew that he needed a consequence that hurt if he was to learn how to listen and obey. Giving in to his begging would hurt, not help him in the long run. So I cried with him and scratched his back until he finally cried himself to sleep.
But during those long moments I had a vision of sorts of a father in heaven looking down and crying with his children in pain. Maybe we are experiencing pain as a result of our poor choices. Maybe our painful circumstances are completely random and undeserved. Maybe He is withholding something we long for because he knows it is not best for us or he has a better plan. I often don't understand why difficulties come and what purpose they serve. All of this remains a great mystery to me. But there are a few things that I am certain of. My father in heaven is good and loving and merciful. He is powerful enough to change any circumstance and any heart. Yet in his wisdom he often doesn't intervene. When I find myself asking, "Why? Where are you God?" I have to remember that He is crying with me. While He understands the purpose of our pain, that doesn't mean that he likes it.
Problem was, one night last week, Donovan was refusing to get his pjs on. He just had better things to do I guess. So after asking him to comply a couple of times, after warning him a couple of times, after getting down and looking directly in his face and saying "get your jammies on now or else you will have a consequence that you do not like", he still was naked as the day he came into this world. Perhaps I gave him too many chances, too many warnings. Perhaps he didn't believe that the consequence would ever come. But it did.
I do not read stories to kids who don't listen. No reading for you tonight.
WHAT!?!
You would have thought that I cut off his arm the way he was carrying on. But these tears were the real thing. Poor kid could hardly catch his breath long enough to brush his teeth with the tears still streaming down. He was wailing, sobbing, begging for story time. He said, "this is breaking my heart, mama." And he was breaking mine. The sobbing continued for 30 solid minutes. Every time he said, "Please, please mama! Just one story! Don't you love me anymore?" I totally wanted to cave. He wasn't being manipulative, just expressing his sincere feelings and I wanted to give into his pleading more than anything. But I held firm. I knew that he needed a consequence that hurt if he was to learn how to listen and obey. Giving in to his begging would hurt, not help him in the long run. So I cried with him and scratched his back until he finally cried himself to sleep.
But during those long moments I had a vision of sorts of a father in heaven looking down and crying with his children in pain. Maybe we are experiencing pain as a result of our poor choices. Maybe our painful circumstances are completely random and undeserved. Maybe He is withholding something we long for because he knows it is not best for us or he has a better plan. I often don't understand why difficulties come and what purpose they serve. All of this remains a great mystery to me. But there are a few things that I am certain of. My father in heaven is good and loving and merciful. He is powerful enough to change any circumstance and any heart. Yet in his wisdom he often doesn't intervene. When I find myself asking, "Why? Where are you God?" I have to remember that He is crying with me. While He understands the purpose of our pain, that doesn't mean that he likes it.
Hebrews 12
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 3 Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.
4 In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. 5 And have you completely forgotten this word of encouragement that addresses you as a father addresses his son? It says,
“My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline,
and do not lose heart when he rebukes you,
6 because the Lord disciplines the one he loves,
and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son.” (Proverbs 3:11 & 12)
and do not lose heart when he rebukes you,
6 because the Lord disciplines the one he loves,
and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son.” (Proverbs 3:11 & 12)
7 Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? 8 If you are not disciplined—and everyone undergoes discipline —then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all. 9 Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! 10 They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. 11 No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.
Monday, July 2, 2012
stealing
Hey ya'll. I'm stealing this post from another blog. It spoke to me so I just have to share.
The will of God will never take you...
where the grace of God cannot keep you, where the arms of God cannot support you, where the riches of God cannot supply your needs, where the power of God cannot endow you.
The will of God will never take you...
where the Spirit of God cannot work through you, where the wisdom of God cannot teach you, where the army of God cannot protect you, where the hands of God cannot mold you.
The will of God will never take you...
where the love of God cannot enfold you, where the mercies of God cannot sustain you, where the peace of God cannot calm your fears, where the authority of God cannot overrule for you.
The will of God will never take you...
where the comfort of God cannot dry your tears, where the Word of God cannot feed you, where the miracles of God cannot be done for you, where the omnipresence of God cannot find you.
– Author Unknown
Saturday, June 16, 2012
shoes
On the last day of Kindergarten I took Donovan with me to run a few errands. We went to Gander Mountain to get a fishing license in preparation of our upcoming trip to the lake. Always a sucker for a good deal, I was drawn to the shoe rack marked "clearance". I found a pair that I liked in my size and decided to grab them. I knew I was pressing my luck with Donovan. Toting a 4 year old boy around on boring errands is a fast way to use up his reserve of good behavior. So I bought them without trying them on.
Even on clearance, $60 is a lot of money for me to spend on a pair of shoes. I have to really like them, they have to fill a purpose that my other shoes do not, and they have to feel good when I wear them. For a week the shoes sat on my counter. I really liked them. I mean I really, really liked them. I knew they would be durable and great in all kinds of weather. They were attractive in a funky sort of way. I liked what shoes like that would say about me.
But here's the kicker, they didn't feel good. Yes, they were the right size, but the right one felt too narrow and the left one rubbed painfully on my ankle bone. Plus they seemed to look more dorky than funky on me. I wore them around the house for an hour, hoping they would get better with time. I told myself, "maybe they just need to break in a little". I wanted them to feel good. I wanted them to be a perfect fit. I wanted them say to the world, "here's an out-doorsy, hip, yet sensible girl." But no amount of time would make them feel better. I finally admitted defeat. I knew they would just end up stuck in my closet never seeing the light of day. They went back to Gander Mountain the next day.
Sometimes, no matter how much you want it, the shoe just doesn't fit.
Even on clearance, $60 is a lot of money for me to spend on a pair of shoes. I have to really like them, they have to fill a purpose that my other shoes do not, and they have to feel good when I wear them. For a week the shoes sat on my counter. I really liked them. I mean I really, really liked them. I knew they would be durable and great in all kinds of weather. They were attractive in a funky sort of way. I liked what shoes like that would say about me.
But here's the kicker, they didn't feel good. Yes, they were the right size, but the right one felt too narrow and the left one rubbed painfully on my ankle bone. Plus they seemed to look more dorky than funky on me. I wore them around the house for an hour, hoping they would get better with time. I told myself, "maybe they just need to break in a little". I wanted them to feel good. I wanted them to be a perfect fit. I wanted them say to the world, "here's an out-doorsy, hip, yet sensible girl." But no amount of time would make them feel better. I finally admitted defeat. I knew they would just end up stuck in my closet never seeing the light of day. They went back to Gander Mountain the next day.
Sometimes, no matter how much you want it, the shoe just doesn't fit.
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