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Mom's Going to Madagascar

I'm heading to Madagascar in God's timing

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count my blessings

Daily Brave

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Haley and her handsome husband, Jarrod, live in San Antonio, Texas, with their three wonderful children (ages 8, 5, and 5). She is able to stay home with her kids and loves it!
You can find out more about her journey with multiple sclerosis and how to help her out at AllegroSolutions.com
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Several months ago Aly asked me to write for her blog. I was very honored when she asked me to write about being brave in the midst of trials. I have multiple sclerosis, and it has changed our lives COMPLETELY! So Aly asked me to write about being brave again… Let’s clarify, I’m not brave!!! I heard my new favorite song by Big Daddy Weave called “My Story”.
Well, this is more of my story, and I’m going to steal some of their lyrics and the hymn “Blessed Assurance” to tell you!
“This is my story this is my song praising my Savior all the day long
I can’t tell you my story without telling me about him”
I just took my second-grader to school this past week for his first day. My five-year-old twins will be in pre-K this year and start very soon. I am scared. Scared of inadequacy, feelings of discouragement and bitterness. I thought I would be the room mom! I taught early childhood, so I thought I would be right there alongside them. However that is not the case. We’ve entrusted my children to two great schools and we’ve been blessed because I love their teachers! However just filling out paperwork is so hard. I can’t do the craft projects that pre-K requiresWinking face. That’s when I have to start counting my blessings and not let the root of bitterness that can SO TAKE OVER and put me in a downward spiral. I read a book recently by Jeannie Cunnion called “Parenting Your Wholehearted Child “. It discusses how to play the game Count Your Blessings with your kiddos. So I literally started naming off the blessings in my head that God has provided. He has given me amazing friends and two wonderful babysitters that help my family. The babysitters can write and create fabulous art projects when I need them, too! My kiddos have learned to help and be independent because they have to! They are very good at helping with laundry and emptying the dishwasher. They are also very gracious (usually) as we wait patiently to help get us out of the car.
At HEB (our local grocery store), I’ve made friends with most of the cashiers and the managers. I’m there every Saturday morning, and they usually help me with the scooter and back out to my car.
I also go to physical therapy every week. The therapists there are wonderful and have been working with me for two years. I always joke around them and tell them I have to be bad for business and should wear a sign that says I have multiple sclerosis. Many of the patients there have orthopedic problems. They walk in with their problems and a few weeks, sometimes months later…they walk out better! On the other hand I started out with a walker and now they come out to my car and help me in a wheelchair… I’ll be honest, sometimes I don’t want to go at all! However they stretch me in ways that I can’t, and it’s very good for my body. They also work on walking with me and strength exercises every week. I have a really great friend named Mary who watches my kiddos so I can go to therapy. I know the therapists’ families and, many times, what they’re struggling with or what’s going really well in their lives. They call me their mascot because I’ve been there so long!
Trust me when I say that I don’t always count my blessings and I let the root of bitterness seep in, HOWEVER I do know that we serve a good God who loves us more than we can imagine! We are called as Christians to “let our light shine”.  I tell my kids all the time to let their light shine for Jesus everywhere they go! Why would I be any different? Whether I’m at HEB, therapy, a doctor’s office, or visiting my kiddos school… I am an ambassador of Christ, and the way I represent Him tells others about Jesus. I want to shine my light …will you?
“Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” Matthew 5:16

The Pregnancy

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!! That’s a baby in there! A BABY! That little bubble there, that’s a baby, ya’ll! Baby! Ahhh!
baby

Okay, enough squealing. I’ll pause my extreme excitement long enough to get some thoughts written out to you.
Pregnancy is fun, ya’ll. It’s hard and exhausting and a little bit gross sometimes–whoever named is morning sickness probably didn’t understand the definition of the word “morning”–but oh so much fun. I’m having a blast thinking about names and planning room themes. A thousand questions are running through my mind every time I pause to think about it all! So much to think about and decide!

baby questions

Psalm 127
1 Unless the Lord builds the house,
the builders labor in vain.
Unless the Lord watches over the city,
the guards stand watch in vain.
2 In vain you rise early and stay up late,
toiling for food to eat—
for he grants sleep to those he loves.
3 Children are a heritage from the Lord,
offspring a reward from him.
4 Like arrows in the hands of a warrior
are children born in one’s youth.
5 Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them.
They will not be put to shame
when they contend with their opponents in court.

Oh, this passage. Unless the Lord is building, any labor I put forth is in vain. Unless the Lord is watching, any guarding I do is in vain. So, it’s not all on me? It’s not completely my responsibility to take care of absolutely everything? Well, whew! I can take a breath! It’s not my burden!

Notice the psalmist (Solomon, I believe) doesn’t mention not laboring or not guarding in response. The point is to make sure that we’re laboring toward what the Lord is building. The questions I’m working through are good. It’s good to hope and wonder and be excited. But I need to keep in mind that the Lord is the one setting this baby’s steps. I can make plans but, ultimately, the Lord is the Builder!

I found this passage because I was looking for a verse about children being a blessing. I don’t like to just take a verse out of context, though, so I always look at the whole passage before writing about it. Boy, I’m glad I did that this time. Verses 3-5 are great. Children are a heritage, reward, a blessing. Children are something to be proud of. I’ve heard these verses many times before, which is why I went looking for them. But the first two verses in Psalm 127. Wow. They were exactly what I needed this afternoon.

Madagascar update: I had my second fundraiser on Saturday and I raised $78 with Jamberry! I am so excited to be able to go to Madagascar next summer. I can see now why the Lord put off my trip for a year. Twenty weeks pregnant would be difficult on a mission trip!

Ends of the earth, here I come!

The Apartment

Lord willing and the creek don’t rise, I’ll be living in a new home by the time you read this. As of right now, though, I live in an apartment. Today is Monday, and I am writing this for you to read next Monday, which is today, because you’re reading it right now. Wibbly wobbly, right?

See, I’ll be a little bit busy this weekend moving from our apartment of three years to our new house, and I don’t think I’ll get around to writing a post during all that, especially since I don’t know if we’ll have the internet up and running by then. So, hello from the past!  Timey wimey!

I am really really excited about moving. We intended to live in an apartment for a year, two years max. Now, after three years, we’re finally going to have a yard again! We’ll be able to invite people over for dinner and not be cramped. We’ll be able to paint walls, and change floors, and move things around and, plant vegetables, and start fires (in a contained location for the purpose of smores, of course), and, oh! I’m so excited!!

But for now, while I’m writing this, I am still living in an apartment.
For four more days. Sigh.

Although I am incredibly anxious to have a yard again, I have to admit, I am feeling a little bit nostalgic. We’ve had three good years here, and today, I heard this song by Trace Adkins on the radio. It kind of got to me, like music often does. I remember being a teenager and wanting so badly to be an adult. I wish I had just slowed down, taken some of my mother’s advice, and enjoyed being a teen. Later, I wanted more than anything to be married. Then, to have kids and be a stay at home mom. Now, to move to a house that we plan to grow old in. The thing is, there will always be a next step. Always something else to strive for. I don’t want to  always be on the look out for the next step. I want to enjoy life right now. Soak in the moments, smell the roses, all that jazz.

Philippians 4:4-13
4 Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! 5 Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. 6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding,will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. 9 Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.

10 I rejoiced greatly in the Lord that at last you renewed your concern for me.Indeed, you were concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it. 11 I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. 12 I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. 13 I can do all this through him who gives me strength.

I need to rejoice always. Not rejoice later when I’m in a house. Not rejoice later when I have a yard. But rejoice always. I need to rejoice even in my apartment. I need to be gentle. I need to pray, and petition, and be thankful. I need to refuse anxiousness and let the peace of God guard my heart and mind. So, even in the midst of moving and waiting and messy, I need to give a squeeze nice and slow, take a deep breath, and let it go. (Any other Daniel Tiger fans out there?) The person described in verses 4-7 would not be anxious to get out of here. She would calm down and rejoice in the Lord for the good times now past. I am going to take verse 8’s advice and focus on some positives.

10 Awesome Things That Have Happened While Living in an Apartment

1. My first pregnancy was here. It was a long, beautiful, trying, wonderful 9 months!

2. This is where we brought Amelia home after she was born. I’ll never forget the joy I felt standing in my living room here surrounded by family. The seams of the apartment nearly burst with all the love that was in here.

3. My hubby and I have worked through many, many, many issues in our marriage here. We’ve grown in patience, in kindness, in joy. We’ve become more open with each other, and our communication has improved tenfold. I think we’ve come a long way in three years.

4. Living here without the support I had back home forced me to face some things in myself that I had been avoiding. I learned to lean on God more fully and draw my strength and joy from Him.

5. I learned how to cook here. I knew some basic things, like macaroni and cheese or calling Pizza Hut, and I had tried a little bit during our first year of marriage, but now I can comfortably make something different for dinner every night, and it’s healthy, mostly. Also, I can bake now. Whoa.

6. Amelia’s first steps, first words, first peepee on the potty, I could go on, and on, and on. The first year and a half of her life has been here, and it’s been amazing.

7. Getting to know my neighbors. Although apartment life means our neighbors change often, it also puts more urgency in the friendship. We might only know you for a year, so I need to tell you about Jesus.

8. We brought home our second kitty, Sadie, to this apartment. We’ve had our first kitty, Jo, for almost four years, and we’ve had Sadie now for almost two years.

9. Our family has grown from 2 adults and a kitty, to 2 adults, 2 kitties, 1 toddler, and 2 babies in heaven.

10. I discovered that I actually can grow plants.

10 Things I’ll Miss About Apartment Life

1. When things break, somebody else fixes it.

2. Somebody else does the lawn care.

3. Close proximity to neighbors. I love getting to know who I’m living near.

4. The pool. There’s very little chance we’ll ever have anything bigger than a kiddie pool in our backyard. The pool here is big, and awesome, and, most importantly, maintained by someone else.

5. Small utility bills.

6. The shared patio. Sitting outside almost guarantees that someone to talk to will stop by.

7. The downsizing. The small size of the apartment forced me to figure out which things I really really wanted and to get rid of the rest.

8. The gym. Sure, I only stepped foot in there once, but still. I could have used it any time I wanted–if I had wanted.

9. The office ladies. They’re really nice.

10. The events. We’ve had Easter egg hunts, and pool parties, and various other events to build a sense of community.

Yes, I’ll miss this place. It has been a very good three years.

Let’s look at the last few verses again.

12 I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. 13 I can do all this through him who gives me strength.

Content whatever the circumstances. Whether apartment or house. Whether 10 kids or three. Whether SAHM or working. Whether 25 years old or 100. The Lord is the source of my strength in every situation.

Ends of the earth, here I come! (eventually)

Thursday Stories

Hello again! I hope you’re enjoying this series of stories as much as I am! This next story was written by a dear friend of mine who has refused to let me respond to the question “how are you? ” with “okay” or “fine” when I’m actually not. She genuinely wants to know how I am. She celebrates with me when I actually am okay, fine, or better because she knows what I went through to get there.
Her story is hard but thanks to God’s strength she has come out the other side joyful. Her courage has been a huge encouragment to me.

thursday stories

Stories from San Antonio

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9

“Hey God, it’s me again. I just want to take a minute and remind you that sometimes it is REALLY hard to do the things you ask of me. Sometimes I think it might be impossible. I mean, I know you’re there, and I know it can happen because of You, but I still just want to remind you, it’s not easy. Oh yeah, that is how you want it isn’t it…”

I know I’m not the only one who has conversations like this with God. I know I’m not the only one who looks around and says “but….” However, sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one that thinks Job had it easy, maybe building an ark would be more simple, or parting the Red Sea a bit less of a challenge than what God has set before me. But when I stop, and I really think, and I really study, and I really pray instead of just whining, I realize that no matter what God sets in front of me, I absolutely don’t want to be the one who steps away from the call and retreats to the sidelines.

“Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life – well, valuable, but small – and sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven’t been brave?” Kathleen Kelly ~ You’ve Got Mail

Sometimes I forget, it seems impossible to do, but it’s true. Sometimes I forget what I have been through, what trials and hardships I’ve had to endure. Instead sometimes I look at my life, and I think that it is small, that it is filled with drudgery, and that it is menial in the scope of God’s kingdom. Sometimes I get frustrated because I want to write a book to tell my story, and it just doesn’t happen. Then I get extra frustrated because I have felt for years that God wants me to tell my story, so why can’t I write it? That’s when I realize that telling my story can happen in a number of ways. That’s when I realize that my life isn’t small if I live it for God no matter how menial the tasks may feel. That’s when I realize that God has given me a story not only so that I can tell it, but so that I can live it. So I can walk alongside others in the hard parts of their stories and be a supporting character. Is it hard for me? Yes. Does it bring up my own hurts and open old wounds? Yes. Are we meant to live a life of ease and comfort? No.

I have spent much of my adult life wondering why I was “gifted” with the ability to see through the façade people put up, why I struggle with being overly blunt, and why it’s really hard for me to listen or observe a situation and not immediately say, “Well, duh, this is how you fix it.” Then I walked with Aly for a while.

You see, God sent me down a path, and it was dark and twisted, and full of pain, but He set me there. He blessed me with four precious babies, but He took three of them from me too soon. He took my son at 32 weeks of my pregnancy, and then He gave me a beautiful, rambunctious little girl. But then He took the next baby at only six weeks of pregnancy. And then, again, He took from me a daughter at 21 weeks of pregnancy. And that last time, that last time I should have died. But I didn’t.

“Why God, why?”

“So that you can walk with others, my child.”

So that I can sit and cry with the momma who is so anxious about her growing belly because of the fears she has for the health of that child. So I can look a friend in the eyes when they say they are “OK” just a few short weeks after a miscarriage, and I can say, “Really? Because you’re allowed to still hurt.” So that I can use my words to help others realize they are not alone, they are not the only one ever to walk through something like this, and even though it seems all is blackness, there is light, there is hope, and there can be joy again.

Are my days of bravely facing the unknown in my past? Hardly! It seems like I am again on the precipice of a huge choice – do I jump off the cliff and trust that God is there, or do I turn and walk back down the mountain that He and I have climbed? What is next for my family and me? Well, we spent the whole last year preparing our house to sell, so we could move to the country and start a farm. Then God spoke, and not in the quiet whisper I’m kind of used to, but in the loud booming, you-can’t-ignore-it voice. What did He say? Well, He told us that we weren’t moving, that we were staying right where we are for a few more years. What will we do other than go stir crazy in the house I can’t wait to get out of? Well, we are going to foster some kids, and maybe, if we’re lucky, we’ll get to adopt some, too.

P.S. You’d better believe I’m scared by this. But you know what? There is a part of me, inside somewhere, that can’t stop smiling…

Thursday Stories

Merry Christmas! Today is Thursday which means it’s story time! Today’s writer is Ora Linville. This lady is one of the bravest people I know. I hope you are as encouraged by her story as I am!

thursday stories
Stories from San Antonio

Bravery. This is a word that I have heard so much in the past six months. Before that, it was a word that I never really thought much about. Thanks to the MOPS, International theme for 2014-2015, “Be You, Bravely,” I have had a lot of time to consider the topic of bravery.

Those of you who know and see me on a regular basis know that I have blue hair. Seriously. I decided to put the blue streaks in in early September. I have received a lot of comments from friends and strangers alike. Some of the comments are something like, “wow!! that’s so brave!” I think I have even said, “Oh, you know, just ‘Being me, Bravely!'” However, if I’m being honest, I don’t really think that was an act of bravery for me. Gutsy, maybe, but not really brave. Perhaps letting my gray hair come in without constantly covering it up would be more brave. But, seriously, I’m only 35 – I have plenty of time to bravely embrace my gray hair!

Some would define bravery as an absence of fear. When we think of bravery, we often think of the super heroes that we grew up watching. Not only do I think this is a wrong idea of what bravery is, I think it is dangerous. The truth is that we all face fear – the types and levels of fear are different for each of us, but it is something we all deal with in this life. Fear is often a good thing, and not usually something that we need to rid ourselves of in order to be brave.

As I have been thinking more about what bravery means for me, I’m coming to the conclusion that bravery can be seen in graciously living the life God has entrusted to me regardless of whether or not it has turned out the way I had envisioned it.

As all girls do, I spent much of my childhood dreaming of what my adult life would look like: A big house that cleaned itself (those would be invented by the time I was an adult, I was sure of it), a gorgeous husband who practically worshiped me, and two perfectly behaved children who never got dirty. No financial issues, no pain, no fears. In my mind, life was going to be perfect. I won’t say that I went into marriage with the same delusions of perfection, but I did have certain expectations as I buttoned up the white dress and slipped into my beaded white shoes. I was about to walk down the aisle and commit myself to one man for the rest of my life. We would exchange vows with the promise to love, honor and cherish each other until death do us part.

Little did I realize that my soon-to-be husband had expectations of what I would be as his wife, expectations that he did not share with me until after we started settling in to life together. I moved from Texas to North Carolina right after the wedding – away from my family, my friends, my church, and really my whole life. I didn’t question it. I was a wife, and this is what a wife does for her husband. As I settled in, I noticed some little things here and there that seemed odd – he did not like me having friends outside his sphere of influence, he would not let me join Bible Study Fellowship or any other study that wasn’t done at his church, he expected me to call his mother “Mom” because “she’s your mom now.” I also noticed that any time I brought up a theological concern, he would halt conversation with, “I’m your husband and the head of this house, so this is what we will believe.” This was in stark contrast to the many theological discussions we had before marriage. He went from my sweet, caring fiance to a hard and calloused husband almost overnight. Over the course of a few short months, I learned to not open my mouth and to just internalize every hateful thing that was said about me, my faith, or my family back in Texas.

About one year into our marriage, we traveled back to Texas to visit family. My family and friends did not recognize the person I had become. Before marriage, I was happy – I smiled, I laughed, and I had a sparkle in my eye. The woman that came back to visit was extremely quiet, looked down constantly, made an innocent joke and then quickly apologized to her husband for making it, and had little life in her at all. I will forever be thankful to my family and dear friends who pulled me aside, shared their concerns with me, and asked me what was really going on. They helped me see that I was being broken down through the hateful words and unreasonable restrictions.

I went back to North Carolina with many people praying for me. . I prayed that God would soften the heart of my husband. I truly believed that God’s will would include the healing of my broken marriage. I knew that I didn’t go into the marriage lightly. I was in this for life. Things didn’t get easier. Having had my eyes opened to the emotional and spiritual abuse that I was dealing with, I was able to resist the arrows of hate that were constantly launched at me. This resistance was met with more anger from my husband and his family. On June 4th, 2007, my husband came home from work particularly angry. He ate his dinner in silence and then started letting me know all the ways I had disappointed him that day. I remember standing up and telling him that I would not take the abuse any longer. He then started throwing anything he could get his hands on. Knowing that physical abuse would likely follow if I remained in the house, I packed a few things I would need overnight and walked out.

I. Walked. Out. This wasn’t what I wanted. This wasn’t what I had prayed for. This wasn’t how my life was suppose to go. I didn’t know what was going to happen next. However, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was the right thing to do, and I stand behind that decision to this day. By March 2008, I was divorced. Divorced! As a young girl and even a newly-wed, I never could have imagined myself divorced.

I was scared out of my mind and I still did the brave thing when I walked out. God didn’t plan for me to stay married to my first husband – God had much bigger plans for me. I am so thankful that God’s ways are not always our ways! If things had gone my way, I would not be married to Michael today and I would not have my two precious children. I wish I could tell you that I have this brave thing all figured out and if you do x, y, and z, you’ll master it too. I still struggle with trust and bravery on a daily basis. Things rarely go the way I expect them to. Being brave is a process and the biggest step I can take is to give God the reigns every day and let Him drive. Maybe, just maybe I’m on my way to accepting my gray hair after all.

Thursday Stories

Hello all! It’s time for Thursday Stories again! We missed last week but the next couple of months are being prepped as you read this! Today’s brave story made a couple of tears leak out of my eyes. It is still very painful to recall my recent miscarriages. Thank you, Christy for sharing bravely! You can read her blog at butterbeesandbumbleflies.com
thursday stories
Stories from San Antonio
Being brave in Christ isn’t the easiest task I’ve ever been faced with. But what I have learned through being brave in Christ is that speaking (and writing) what I’m going through is incredibly healing. And that it brings life to those around me who may not have realized something vitally important – we are not alone. No man (or woman!) is an island. We CAN be found. God IS for us. And if He is for us, WHO can be against us?
 
Aly has taught me more about speaking up and sharing than she probably knows. Because just a couple of short months after I had Grayson, she had her first, and then second miscarriages. Though she carried each for a different amount of time than I carried our two angels, we have that pain in common.
 
Miscarriage is NOT something people speak boldly and bravely about. Women don’t typically come out and say, “hi, my name is Christy, I have had four pregnancies and two of my children are in Heaven.” No, miscarriage is something you don’t usually hear about until you go through it, and share with close friends. And then you start finding out how many people have been there before.
 
I really struggled emotionally. I leaned HEAVILY on my Bible study group, and on God. I questioned Him. I screamed at Him – both inside and out. I raved like a lunatic. And then, I learned to hope again. And then He took my third baby. I questioned Him. I screamed at Him – both inside and out. I raved like a lunatic – HOW ON EARTH could he take TWO babies away from me? Wasn’t it surely part of His plan to give us more than one earthly child? Hadn’t HE been the one to place this desire for multiple children in our hearts? WHY was He taking them away?
 
And then, I finally dared to hope again. We began to live our lives. And one day I very timidly took a test. And then we saw the flashing light of a beating heart on the monitor. And then we made it to 12 weeks. And then to 16. And it was a boy!! And then we made it the agonizingly long wait to 36 and he was kicking and growing and moving like a crazy man. We saw that all of his organs were perfect, and we breathed a sigh of relief. And then he arrived. Now, he’s six months old. It’s been a year and a month since our second baby would have been born. It’s been almost eleven months since our third baby would have been born.
 
And God has given me perspective. He has told me that He has great plans for Grayson’s life. THIS is the child we were meant to have on Earth. And THOSE are the children we lost for a purpose. Their short little microscopic lives HAVE PURPOSE. And meaning. They are not meant to be hidden away in the confines of a Mother and Father’s hearts. No, they are meant to be shared. I am meant to speak bravely and boldly. I’m supposed to tell them about my babies, and to give them the strength to be bold and share about theirs.
 
My grandmother lost three babies before she had my mom. But she didn’t give up. And I’m so very glad. Because if she had let one or two, or even all three miscarriages scare her away from trying desperately to have another healthy child, my mom, and subsequently me, and my children, would never have been born. Miscarriage is tough. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever been through in my life – twice. But it is NOT the end. And I’m so very glad every time I snuggle of my precious little boy, that we didn’t give up.
 
It’s my job to be a light and an encouragement to others. Miscarriage is NOT easy. The scars on a mother’s heart NEVER go away. But time can heal the pain, and provide perspective. I pray I’m always brave enough and bold enough to help others see His love – even through the tears that fall.
 
God, make me brave. Give me the words. And help me to always use them for Your Glory, and to encourage others.

The Phone

My daughter accidentally dropped my phone in HEB on Thursday. And when I say “accidentally dropped,” what I mean is, “threw it down the aisle because she was tired of playing with it.” Yeah. Life with a toddler.
This was not the first accidental drop my phone has taken. When we first got these phones two years ago, I dropped my phone from my knee to the concrete while sitting outside, and it cracked the screen. My Otterbox arrived in the mail the next day. Then, about a week later, I was showing off my awesome new Otterbox and dropped my phone, and there went another crack off of the original one. These two cracks were all I had for a long time. Then one fateful day, my little baby became a toddler. She would play with my phone and then carefully lay it on the table when finished. When I say “carefully lay it on the table,” what I mean is, “throw it onto the ground with as much force as a 16 month old can muster.” Yeah. Toddlers.
Well, after my two cracks and a few months of toddlerdom, my phone finally bit the dust in the school supply aisle of my local HEB. The screen turned all sorts of beautiful colors, and the ringtone was a delightful out-of-tune version of what it used to be. Needless to say, the touch screen no longer worked, and by lunch time, the beautiful colors were just black and the phone was ready for the dump. Since it was time for an upgrade anyway (It was time for an upgrade last month but we were debating whether to stay with our current carrier or switch. #firstworldproblems), we decided to go ahead and get a new one instead of doing the insurance thing.
Now I have to wait FOUR DAYS for my new phone to arrive in the mail. FOUR DAYS! Can you believe that? Four days without Facebook, Instagram, and Gmail in the palm of my hand. Four days of not listening to Adventures in Odyssey through the tape thingamajig in my car. Four days of not being able to text or make a phone call or play Angry Birds! How would I drive anywhere without GPS? How would I let the world know how awesome my sandwich was at lunch? How would I capture adorable moments of my daughter playing in a mere 10,000 photos?
In the midst of all my frustration and impatience, I recalled some unease my missions pastor had about my trip to Madagascar. He was pretty concerned with how I would transition from the one of the richest countries in the world to one of the poorest, especially since I’ve never been outside the US. I confidently informed him that although I’m not accustomed to things like outhouses and public wells and things of the sort, I would certainly find the strength within me to deal with these sorts of things. Of course I’d be able to adjust, even if it was a little bit difficult. It’s not like I’m one of those spoiled American brats who buys new clothes just because, or has multiple cars, or goes out to eat whenever the mood strikes, or is dependent on a phone for daily tasks.
Oh, wait.
Upon realizing that I was most certainly a spoiled American brat, I decided to turn to Scripture for help. The Bible says a lot about wealth. Basically, the love of money is the root of all evil. But not all Scripture says that money is a terrible, terrible thing, which surprised me. In fact, Solomon talks about wealth very fondly in Ecclesiastes. And Paul is just as content with prosperity as he is with being poor.
Solomon is the richest, wisest guy ever and he says that money and wisdom are both very good things. He calls them both protection, which interestingly enough, is the Hebrew word tsel which means “shadow, shade.” The same word was used 53 times in the Old Testament. Sometimes, it meant literally the shade of a tree or rooftop like in Jonah. The tree that the Lord provided and then took away shaded Jonah as he sat outside Ninevah after the people turned from their wicked ways. Other times, the word meant something closer to refuge as in Psalm 57. David took refuge in the Lord, in the shadow of His wings. He was on the run from Saul, living in caves, and trusting in the Lord for protection.
In Ecclesiastes 7, Solomon is calling money a refuge. A place to sit and rest without the heat of the sun beating down. With money, I am comfortable. I can have a phone and buy clothes when I feel like it and go out to eat when the mood strikes. Money protects me from starvation and from weather. It protects me from discomfort or even sickness. Money is most certainly a protection.
Wisdom is also called protection but there’s a major difference between the two. Wisdom protects and preserves the lives of its possessors where money only protects. Wisdom offes security beyond basic needs of survival like food and shelter. Wisdom revives and restores. Wisdom refreshes.
Solomon explains that God made prosperity as well as adversity in order to show man that there is nothing that will be after him. Money is good but it’s just money. Wisdom is good but adversity still visits the wise. And no one can change that. God allows for both for His glory. Can anyone undo what God has done? Can anyone alter what God has set in motion? No, not one! So whether I’m in America with a phone and other wonderful modern conveniences or in Madagascar without any of those things, God has made them both and it is possible to be content in both. My contentment should not be from conveniences but rather from the Lord. Check out Paul’s words to the church at Philippi.
Living humbly and living in prosperity is no different when my strength comes from the Lord. So, I will be without a phone for four days. Oh well. I will learn to be content. I suppose traveling to Madagascar will probably be a rougher transition than I originally imagined, but the Lord created the situation in the United States just as He created the situation in Madagascar.
Ends of the earth, here I come!

The Parent

Do you ever feel like you are telling your kids to do something that you don’t do?

“Eat all your vegetables!” but you didn’t even put vegetables on your plate.
“Check your attitude!” you say in your best Oscar the Grouch voice.
“Get outside and exercise!” but you haven’t gone running since high school.

I have noticed myself doing this lately, and I find that I correct my daughter on things that bug me the most about myself. I literally just ate leftover pancakes for lunch, but my daughter had rice, mustard greens, and navy beans. I made her drink all of her water, too. I had Dr. Pepper. Also, I am not always the nicest person some mornings. I get grouchy. Not every morning, but sometimes. When my daughter wakes up on the wrong side of the bed, though, I correct her on that. I want her to wake up with a smile but I don’t have to? I think I see a problem here…

Let’s looks at Matthew 5 again. This passage keeps coming up in my life, so maybe I ought to take some note of it.

13 “You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt has become tasteless, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled under foot by men.
14 “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden; 15 nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. 16 Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.

I have absolutely no reason to be grouchy in the morning. I have a warm bed that I wake up in every morning. My husband is snoring contentedly next to me. My daughter is in the next room. She may be crying or playing depending on her mood that day, but she’s there and she’s safe. I have an indoor bathroom. Even one generation ago, a significant number of Americans couldn’t say that. My kitchen is stocked with good, nutritious food. I don’t have to worry about whether or not I will have breakfast that morning. Instead I worry about whether to make pancakes, oatmeal, grits, toast, or just cut up some fresh fruit. I don’t mean to brag but I’ve got it pretty dang good, ya’ll!

One of the concerns that some people have had about my trip to Madagascar is the different culture. Currently, Madagascar is one of the 10 poorest countries in the world. The United States of America is on the other end of the scale, though. I understand that it’s different, but I can’t seem to wrap my mind around just how unalike these two countries are. The feeling is similar to when I learned how to multiply double digits. I understood the concept and I understood single digit multiplication, so I knew double digit multiplication was possible. I knew it was a thing, but I couldn’t get my mind to understand just what was involved in that until I actually put pencil to paper and did it myself. I think the same is going to be true about traveling to Madagascar: I understand the concept of a different culture, and I know that it is possible for people to live well and happily without all the modern conveniences, like sinks that are inside, but I don’t think I will understand what that truly means until I step off the plane and see Madagascar for myself. Until I live there for two weeks and interact with people. Eat, sleep, and drink they way they do. Live life with them. And I am thrilled to get to do that. If I am going to be a light for all men to see and glorify God, I need to check my attitude. Instead of waking up grouchy, I am going to start counting five good things every morning before I roll out of bed. I have it pretty good here, and in order to get ready to go to a place that is so significantly different from what I am used to, I need to start recognizing what I have.

The other side of that coin is knowing that I don’t really have what I have. All that I own is not mine. It has been entrusted to me by the Lord in order that I might use it to shine for Him. That knowledge helps me not worry about funds for my trip. He has $5,000. The money is no problem. Remember Philippians 4:19? “And my God will supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” God could have easily dropped whatever Paul and Timothy needed right into their laps. He’s God. He can do that. But instead, God prompted the church at Philippi to send resources to them, and then God blessed the church. That’s still true today, ya’ll. God could drop a plane ticket, cash for food, and some extra to bless the ministry already happening in Madagascar into my lap, but He hasn’t done that. He did that for the Israelites in the desert. He dropped manna into their laps daily. He could do it for me, but He hasn’t. I think that’s because God want to use you. So, if you would like to contribute to that, if you would like to allow God to use your resources to send me to Madagascar on His behalf, you can click here and donate. I don’t have any money raised yet, but I sure could use some. And please, share the link even if you’re not going to donate. Maybe you have a friend who will.

Ends of the earth, here I come!

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