Because Dad Says It So Much Better...

My Dad left a comment on my last post that I found so edifying, I'm posting it. It was actually through a series on the Sovereignty of God that my Dad taught years ago that I heard for the first time that grace does not equal easy. My Dad is the author of that phrase, not me. He expounds on it by saying

I realized that the older a man gets the greater the temptation to shift his ambition to seeking his own comfort and ease above all else. What a tragic way to end one's life - seeking one's comfort rather than God's glory. What a tragic epitath to one's life: "He lived by God's grace for his comfort," rather than "He lived By God's grace for God's glory." May all of who call upon the name of the Lord not be entangled by the "Grace = Easy" snare and finish with Paul's words on our lips: "2 Tim. 4:7-8 (ESV) I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. [8] Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing."

We may not be older men...ever...but still, is it not true that even as moms we face daily temptation to desire comfort and ease, rather than glorify God through the hard work He has called us to? Thanks Dad. Your voice comes through in so many of my "spiritual" posts. You have been a faithful teacher of God's Word not just in the pulpit, but in ordinary life as well. I love you

Grace = Easy?

When one of my boys was in kindergarten he was having trouble with a Math concept. After working for a while we were both frustrated, so I finally remembered to pray and ask God for help. We continued to work on the concept, and after a few minutes my son says, "Maybe God isn't helping me because He's resting right now." I answered him, "Sometimes the way God helps us is to help us work harder." I need to take my own counsel. Somehow I think that grace means my life will feel easy. Sometimes this does happen. I mount with wings as eagles. I run and do not grow weary. But there are times when grace comes in the form of obstacles, perseverence, and really hard work...that I feel every bit of. This week is one of those weeks. I have so much to do, and God poured out grace upon grace - but I am exhausted and tempted to think that today - God must be resting. The "gas tank" of energy is empty, and I am hoping for those magical wings to pick me up off of this chair and get me into the kitchen to clean! No, God isn't resting. In His sovereign activity in my life He decided that grace would look like, and feel like hard work this week. May I say with Paul, "it is God who works in me, both to will and to work for His good pleasure.(Phil 2 :13) and that I am "...struggling with all His energy that he powerfully works within me." (Col 1:29) God, please give me the grace to have the will and the capacity to work for your good pleasure. As I struggle through this day, help me to do so with your energy that powerfully works within me.

Great Talk from the Girls

If you haven't done it yet, please read Nicole Whitacre's post on God being our burden bearer. Here's a little sample to whet your appetite:

What is your burden today? They come in countless shapes and sizes—from clingy colds to crushing cares. But one thing’s for sure: our idols cannot bear their load. Leisure and escape don’t provide true rest. Sinful anger cannot relieve the pressure. Even friends are not strong enough to bear up under their full weight.

How often I look to leisure, escape, and anger - such futility! I am grateful for Nicole's reminder to turn the unfathomable strength and the faithfulness of our Father to bear our burdens.

“Blessed be the Lord, who daily bears us up; God is our salvation. Selah." (Psalm 68:19)

Your Goodness Passes Before Me

I read the familiar passage in Exodus this morning where Moses asks God to show him His glory.

18 Moses said, “Please show me your glory.” 19 And he said, “I will make all my goodness pass before you and will proclaim before you my name ‘The Lord.’ And I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy. 20 But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for man shall not see me and live.” 21 And the Lord said, “Behold, there is a place by me where you shall stand on the rock, 22 and while my glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by. 23 Then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back, but my face shall not be seen.”

I have often read this and envied Moses. I have prayed, "O God, show me Your glory. Let Your goodness pass before my eyes." God answered my prayer powerfully today. Also in my Bible reading today was John 12 when Jesus goes to Jerusalem (His triumphal entry) and people are saying Hosanna! While I'm reading this I realize that I am watching the Goodness of God pass before my eyes. I saw the good plan unfolding as Jesus, the glorious One, is getting ready for the hour of His crucifixion. I saw the Good One - the perfect One marching on toward Calvary. I hide in the Rock of Ages cleft for me today. I behold what Moses could not: the culmination of the goodness of God expressed in the death of His Perfect Son in order to save a rebellious people for His glory, and then make them objects of His mercy and grace over and over and over again.

Spring Cleaning

I was curious to know if any of you actually do "spring cleaning". If you do, why do you do it? How do you do it(what does it consist of)? What is your strategy?

If You Can't Beat Them, Join Them...And Then Beat Them

March Madness. It has been a seasonal guest in our home since we were married. The men in my family don't really get into basketball, so I never knew such a thing as March Madness existed until that first March when I learned that I would, indeed, have no control over the remote for an entire month every year of our married lives. I never knew much about March Madness except that it meant tons of college basketball games that would eventually lead to a final 4, final 2, and finally the winner. This year will be different. I decided that this year I would join Jason in the madness. We filled out tournament brackets over dinner at Red Brick Station. He enjoyed explaining to me what the little numbers meant next to the teams. I picked my teams with a little combination of statistics, loyalty, and heart. It took me five minutes. Well, guess what? Thanks to my loyalty to Dad's many alma maters I chose well. Texas A&M, LSU, and George Washington University all won. A special thanks to my Tennessee connection. And another thanks for whoever named a school Gonzaga (chosen for how it sounds). So far I am beating Jason's picks: he chose 9 winning teams. I chose 12.

My Loaves and Fish? or Bread of Life?

I read about Jesus feeding the 5000 in John 6 this morning. Many times when I read this I make the application is as follows: I have five little loaves and two little fish of my gift, ability, etc. and Jesus, who is all-powerful, can take my little offering of myself, and increase it to feed 5000! Such application gives faith that where I am lacking, Jesus can increase. This morning, however, the Holy Sprit gave me eyes to see things differently. I have no loaves or fish. I have an empty stomach. Jesus is the bread, not my abilities. His body had to be broken on my behalf. Is it possible that the whole reason humans need to eat, and not just eat - but eat things that once had life, but had to die to feed us (meat, vegetables, grains)- is to show us a greater truth in the spiritual realm? Our souls need food or we will die. Jesus saying we must partake of Him, or we will die is hard to understand. I think it has something to do with Jesus, like food, having to be broken and killed so that I might live. I think it means something about Jesus being the only thing that satisfies my hungry soul. I believe it means that viewing manna as my daily Bible reading doesn't go far enough if I remember Jesus said He is manna- Bread come down from heaven. It's not just reading the Bible as an ends in itself, but it means reading it as a means of intimate communion with Jesus. And it means that when Isaiah asks the question: Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your wages for that which does not satisfy? God is inviting me to turn aside from the poisonous lite fare of this world (comfort, entertainment, praise from man)that never satisfies but leaves me craving more; and turn to the Bread of Life and find my soul deeply satisfied, nourished, alive and thriving...and craving more.

Happy Birthday, Handsome!

Today is Jason's Birthday. I thought and thought about how to honor this man who means more to me than any human alive, and my words fall short. I have always loved this poem because it expresses a bit of what I feel about my husband. My best daydreams about "the one" from my single years fell woefully short of what God in His mercy and grace has given me in Jason. XXVI. "I lived with visions for my company..." by Elizabeth Barrett Browning I lived with visions for my company Instead of men and women, years ago, And found them gentle mates, nor thought to know A sweeter music than they played to me. But soon their trailing purple was not free Of this world's dust, their lutes did silent grow, And I myself grew faint and blind below Their vanishing eyes. Then thou didst come---to be, Belovèd, what they seemed. Their shining fronts, Their songs, their splendours (better, yet the same, As river-water hallowed into fonts), Met in thee, and from out thee overcame My soul with satisfaction of all wants: Because God's gifts put man's best dreams to shame.

My Beloved Oxen

Jason is having the boys read through Proverbs right now, and this morning he highlighted the following for he and I to remember.

Proverbs 14:4 Where there are no oxen, the manger is clean, but abundant crops come by the strength of the ox.

Here's my paraphrase (to be remembered when I find myself craving order and ease):

Where there are no little children, there are no legos to step on, toilets to wipe down daily, forts to navigate around, food, food, and more food to clean up after; but these children are the means of fruit being born in my life, and more importantly they will one day be the strength that brings in a harvest for the glory of God.

I love my oxen!

Is It A Small World After All?

I am sitting in the room where I live 80% of my normal day. I teach in this room, eat in this room, prepare meals in the adjoining kitchen, clean those meals in that kitchen. It is a wonderful room. I love my kitchen, with it's attempt at 1950's charm in a 21st century home. I love my homeschool/dinindg/family room. It has a double window, my dining room table (a cherished antique passed down from my mother-in-law), and my gas fire place. These rooms, which are not divided by a wall, are my favorite rooms of the house to be sure. But, there are times when my little world can feel very, very small. One home to maintain, one husband to help, and four little children to serve is wonderful, and consuming. Yes, I have my life with people in the church, and I have occasion to be with unbelievers periodically, but truly, my world is small. There are two potential dangers I have in my tiny world. One is to become frustrated with the boundaries and try to make them bigger. I grow discontent with the little life I am leading, so I add to it. I broaden it. I take on tasks that make my world feel bigger. Often these are good things. But when it comes down to it, I can't manage my little world well when I add too much to it in this season. If my domain here at home suffers, then I have tried to make my world too big. And if my efforts are motivated by craving significance and importance; appreciation or praise from men, then really I think it's more like I made my world too small. So small it included only me and my feelings of worth and value. The other danger is that I can get so caught up in my own little world, that I forget there is a whole planet out there with things happening that are important to be aware of. I know that I am to focus on my family, making them the primary beneficiaries of my energy and effort, but I must still keep an outward focus and understand things bigger than myself and my season. I get so caught up in my season, that I find it less natural to talk to women in other seasons and experiences. Why is this? Did my children kill certain social brain cells? I have no problem talking for hours on end about potty training, homeschool curricula, home management technique, infant care, pregnancy - but remove those common experiences and sometimes more effort is required. This isn't bad, that more effort is required, as long as I'm making that effort...and that is the key. God addressed both of my problems with regard to my world this week. Carolyn Mahaney's teaching "Busy At Home" from her Titus 2 series addressed the issue of resisting my boundaries. She reminded me that I can either resent the boundaries set before me in this season, or I can enjoy all of the blessing within the boundary lines marked out for me. I listen to this teaching when I feel off-course, discontent, or like my world is too small (several times each year!). God used two posts to help me with the problem of being too focused on my little world, to the exclusion of others either in various seasons, or even in various cultures. Carolyn McCulley, (who by the way, you must make part of your blog reading - she wrote two insightful articles recently about anxiety, and what we feel verses what is real) wrote last week about an issue that I would never have known about in my tiny world here in Abingdon, MD. The issue is that of female circumcision which happens most commonly in Africa. I never want to be insulated from the trials of the world at large. I am grateful for Carolyn who consistently keeps her readers informed about matters such as these. The other post was that of my friend Libby Turek who being motivated by memories of older girls who invested in her life when she was a teenager, decided to do the same and had a 13 year old girl spend the night with her while her husband was away. What a great reminder for me to remember the young ladies around me...not just the young moms who are so near to my heart, but the young single ladies, the teenagers, and even the pre-teens. I was so inspired by Libby's example. God, help me to rejoice in the boundaries you have placed in my life. Thank You that they are pleasant. Help me not to make them bigger than You have ordained and in so doing, shrink my world of influence to only me. But help me also not to become insulated from the people around me. Let me see others near and far. Even if my work on their behalf is prayer alone, help me to be faithful to do it do it.

In Honor of a Stranger

Virginia Lee Green Born June 27, 1934 Died Tuesday, March 7, 2006 I never met Virginia Green. And though this is true, I am profoundly grateful for the impact of her life on mine. At the risk of over-using the familiar metaphor, one ripple resulting from the pebble named Virginia Green dropping into the pond of Baltimore, Maryland has touched my life. That ripple is my good friend Karen Hevesy. Her mom, Mrs. Green, left this earth last week, not as a result of the cancer she was diagnosed with, but due to complications that her weakened body was unable to recover from. Jim, Karen's husband is our church administrator, so we enjoy not only a ministry-relationship, but a friendship as well - cultivated through care group, retreats, and hangin' out. I am sure I speak on behalf of the rest of the staff and their wives when I say that our team is very blessed to have the Hevesys. They bring something unique to the group...an amazing sense of humor. Jim is often Karen's straight man. It's Karen who keeps us in stitches. We can't get through a caregroup without sore sides from laughing at Karen's antics. Our favorite form of humor is her stories. Karen views life from a different angle. She can find humor in anything: a little boy in a brown polyester leisure suit, pool problems, her husband's injuries, Christmas parties (one is blogged about, the other stays amongst the staff). You name it, Karen has a funny story about it. This truly is a ministry. Karen helps us not take ourselves too seriously, and in the midst of certain aspects of ministry - this is very helpful! Even though Karen is funny, she knows when to be serious. Many times in accountability I, or someone else, will be sharing about an area, trying to get clarity, and Karen will just say one or two sentences that are so prophetic and laser accurate, it's amazing. She is funny, but she is also wise. Her humor is the result of being an acute observer of life which can also result in much wisdom. I don't know how much of Karen's personality, gifts, and graces come from Mrs. Green, but I know from Karen that humor was a part of their family culture. I am grateful for this lady I have never met because her impact on her youngest daughter in some way has enriched my life. Thank you, Karen, also for the example you have been in laying down your life for another. You have honored your mother by serving tirelessly these last months, and you have done it with joy. I am grateful for you, friend. Please know I am praying. If you have any connection with Karen through her blog you can leave condolences there or here and I'll be sure to get them to her. To those of you from Chesapeake, thank you for overwhelming the Hevesys with your prayers and support. Please keep praying.

Bloody Victory

I am one of those peevish gals who faints at the sight of blood. I can't help it. My body just does it involuntarily. I remember once I was supposed to bring our dog "Puppy" (aren't we creative?) to her follow up vet visit after she was spayed. I was twenty or so years old. Well, all I remember is the doctor pushing on her incision, a spurt of something, and being told to sit down with my head between my knees. Another memorable fainting moment was when my sister, who was newly pregnant, called in hysterics because she was bleeding everywhere. I thought, "pull yourself together, she must be miscarrying." When I walked in the door, she had a blood soaked towel up to her chin. Her dog, a Chow, had bitten her. I started getting woosy. Karyn said with a bit of disgust, "oh great, an emergency situation, and you're the only one available. Sit on my step and put your head between your knees!" I did manage to get Karyn to the hospital...eventually. Well, yesterday, a miracle happened. I did not faint at the sight of blood. Let me back up. You know, mothers of sons especially, how you hear things in the next room that clue you in to the fact that you need to intervene right away. Like when Izzy says to Josh, "tell me if this hurts..." I run in and yell, "whatever you're getting ready to do - don't do it!" Then there are various crashes, cries, etc. Well yesterday, I was sitting here at my computer reading the Girl Talk blog when I heard bang. I waited to hear if there was a subsequent cry. Instead of "ouch" I hear Caleb wailing, "I don't want to go to the hospital!!!! It doesn't really hurt!!!" That is the one sentence following a crash that I don't like hearing. I ran downstairs to find Caleb holding his head with blood going everywhere (I'm nauseated just typing it). Poor guy had piled up pillows and cushions at the bottom of the steps and jumped with a little too much gusto from the landing and hit his head on the bulkhead above. There is a crack and a dent in the wall to attest to the force of the hit. Now I have seen my share of blood having three boys about the same age. We have been stapled, glued, and butterflied as much as the next boy family. But I have to say, I have never...even in the busted lip toddler phase, seen as much blood as yesterday. As much as it bled, it really wasn't too bad. Just the way head/face things go, I suppose. I felt God's grace. I was able to calm him down, clean him up, and call Jason, who was very impressed that I hadn't fainted. We took him to the hospital and he got a few staples - really amazing how they do that. Caleb is fine. I'm still recuperating. Post Script: Izzy was racing Josh about an hour ago. He hit his toe on our metal frame hamper. He is still hopping around on one foot, and insists that he can't walk on his hurt foot. I don't think there is much you can do with a broken pinky toe, but what if he broke the little bone below the toe? Am I headed to the emergency room again?! These boys are committed to aging me prematurely.

Bearded Lady

The women in my family love to laugh at ourselves...and each other. We each provide a different venue for laughs. My mother, the leader of the "laugh-at-yourself" club, is known for her odd pronunciations of various words. For example, she reads a poim, not a poem. She takes Pepto Bismo for an upset stomach. And she slips back into her New Orleans accent when she visits Grandma like she's Sybil or something. There is an entire series of stories co-starring my Aunt Fran. I don't have time or permission to tell those! My sister entertains by her huge reactions to, well, to just about anything. Every gift she opens is the most amazing thing she's ever seen. Any news we have regarding the children is definite evidence that they are geniuses. If there is good news, she is the absolute best person to tell...complete with very loud exclamations of excitement. If you get your hair done differently, she will absolutely loooooove it! She has simply ruined me for normal reactions from others. Humor from my life seems to always center around my physical appearance. We can hardly look at the family photos without a reminder of just how "funny-looking" I was in my awkward phase, which for the record, lasted a good 18 years. Apparently in the 70's they didn't really make many children's frames (so my mom claims) and that explains why I have glasses that are dark brown and cover half of my face. I also had what I was told was a "Dorothy Hammel" haircut, which resulted in people always asking my sister what her little brother's name was. The other day Abby, Karyn, and I had another hearty laugh over my physical appearance. This was in reference to a shocking post-partum discovery. It wasn't enough that after I delivered 14 pounds of baby, the other 36 pounds I gained miraculously moved to my thighs, rear end, and my nose (yes, at least two pounds went straight to my nose). I mean, surely it was all baby before they came out! And apparently, it wasn't enough that my belly was a warped floppy mess-literally two handfuls of skin (I know, too much information). It also wasn't enough that I had to continue to wear the three maternity dresses I grew to loathe well after I delivered the boys. These things were hard yes, but nothing could prepare me for the grand-daddy of all post-delivery humiliations. I was taking an unusual opportunity to look at my face carefully in the mirror when I noticed it. I said out loud, "Oh. My. Gosh." I had a beard. I kid you not...I had a real beard. It had probably been there for weeks and I didn't notice because, well, I had more important things to notice like two newborn baby boys. I was already reeling from the adjustment to being a mom (hormones a-ragin'). So let's just say that I didn't at that moment, laugh at my beard discovery. What does one do when one discovers she has a beard? I thought, this must be male hormone from the boys. I thought, why didn't my sister tell me about this? I knew she had to have noticed. And then I did what I thought made perfect sense. I went to Wal Mart and bought a chemical hair remover. I put it all over my beard. Whooooo Nelly! That hurt almost as bad as breast feeding (not quite). I took off the chemicals only to discover that it removed not only the hair, but a layer of skin as well. So in the days following (felt like weeks), I had a scab beard. But hey, at least the hair was gone! We laughed so hard. I love being in a family that doesn't take themselves too seriously. We really love to laugh at ourselves. It is good medicine. And the next time you are lamenting the affects childbearing has had on your body, comfort yourself with this: you probably didn't grow a beard your brother could have envied.

Godly Bloggers

Sovereign Grace Ministries is truly blessed to have such godly leaders. Two blog posts I read today caused me to stop and thank God for the grace that comes through women and men who are committed to His Word - not just communicating it in a helpful way, but modeling the application of it. If you haven't, be sure to catch Girl Talk today as Carolyn Mahaney tells us a unique approach to mortifying criticism of our spouses in order to grow in encouragement. I have enjoyed reading Joshua Harris' blog lately. He recently posted two meditations (one on discipline for grown ups, one on abiding in Christ) that are excellent. His insights are great, and his writing is engaging, of course.

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

This is a daily event in our house. We call it "family wrestle". If a picture is worth a thousand words than these pictures may be saying the following. 1. Jason's days of taking on all three boys are numbered. He is regularly getting injured during family wrestle. 2. Maggie could have issues when she grows up. She thinks this is a perfectly normal event for a four-year-old girl. 3. My kids absolutely loooooove their daddy!!!

Bon Voyage, Mom and Dad!

My mom would like to extend a very warm thanks to the blog community for their prayers on her behalf. She is feeling better, and after two sessions of physical therapy today along with various meds, her doctor thinks she'll be okay to go. My mom had a chance to share with the PT that many people were praying for her. He was surprised at the change in her neck in just 24 hours. Thank you, God. Thank you, friends.

Please Pray for My Mom

I want to rally as many people as possible to pray for my mom today. My parents have been anticipating a cruise for months now to celebrate their 40th anniversary. They are supposed to leave tomorrow, but may have to cancel because my mom is experiencing severe pain due to muscle spasms in her neck. She is a tough cookie, so if she says it is too bad to go, it must be really bad. She went to her doctor who immediately sent her to a physical therapist and gave her drugs. Thankfully, they have insurance on their cruise tickets so if they can't go, they will receive their money back and reschedule. But, they are both already packed and have been geared up for weeks, so can you pray with me that God will heal my Mom's neck? If you know my parents, they will glorify God in the midst of disappointment. I still hope that God will do the miraculous and heal her. It would be a fitting kick-off to the celebration of their marriage which miraculously has survived forty years in spite of an against-all-odds beginning. I'd love to tell their story sometime. But today, if you would, please pray for my mother.

Looky Here!

There have been some wonderful posts in the blogosphere lately, and they are found other places than here. Check out a few that I have found very helpful lately. Solofeminity: Carolyn McCulley, in classic McCulley style, brilliantly and wisely informs us how to find contentment, not just as a single woman, but in any season. This is one smart lady, and even better - she is godly and wise. Girl Talk: Well, of course no reference to helpful blogs could be complete without this one! I love Carolyn's post from yesterday. It gives me faith for my future as an empty nester, but also challenges me that how I invest in my marriage will directly affect my future experience in marriage. Worship Matters: Bob Kauflins Monday devotions are a must-read for me. Check this one out about applying the gospel to our lives everyday. I love the Piper quote in particular. Fishboys: Jessica Fisher shares her plans for playdates with the kids in her church. She even set up a blog! I love to be inspired by other moms as to how to love and cherish my children even more. This is a lady who is thriving in her role as mother and it is evident in her posts.

That's Amore!

When the staff had a marriage retreat last month we agreed that one of the most memorable events was when Arie Mangrum (leading the session on romance) had us tell one another what our "song" was. Each person went around the room sharing; and at some point, Jimmy pulled out his laptop and started to play the free 30 seconds of each song from itunes. Couple after couple was reduced to tears in less than 30 seconds. It truly was precious and one of our cherished memories from that retreat. The other night Jason and I were playing Freeze Dance with the kids when Jason put on our song. It is "I Will Be Here" by Stephen Curtis Chapman. As I listened to the words I started crying, of course. My kids were staring at us slow dancing in the middle of the family room - both crying. Why is it that when we were courting and this was the song Jason would sing to me in the car, I wouldn't cry? Well, I suppose it is because I was listening to it with hopeful anticipation; looking toward the future. Now, I can look back and the words are even more precious because we have lived some of them. We have real pictures to put with various phrases which at one time were simply hypothetical. We have seen God's grace in ten years like we never could have anticipated, or predicted. I can hardly imagine how listening to songs are for my parents who celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary this year (going on a well-deserved cruise this Saturday). They don't just have A song, they have a whole cd my Dad put together for my Mom (how sweet and romantic). He can hardly hum a line of song after song without getting misty eyed. I pray our marriage will look like theirs as it seasons with life in God's grace. Try this: Next date night, try listening to "your song" together. Maybe the song you danced to first. Maybe a song you sang to your spouse on your wedding day, or your spouse sang to you. I have a feeling it will affect your heart much like it did each one of us.

Parenting by Faith or by Fear?

I know most of you who read this already visit the GirlTalk blog regularly, but I want to draw attention to the following quote by Carolyn Mahaney because I thought it was soooooo helpful.

Faith toward God is the foundation of effective mothering. Did you catch that? Here it is again: Faith toward God is the foundation of effective mothering. Success as a mother doesn’t begin with hard work or sound principles or consistent discipline (as necessary as these are). It begins with God: His character, His faithfulness, His promises, His sovereignty. And as our understanding of these truths increases, so will our faith for mothering. You see, it is relatively easy to implement new practices in parenting. But if our practices (no matter how useful) aren’t motivated by faith, they will be fruitless.

So often I parent by fear rather than faith. It looks like this: Fear motivation: When I notice a sin pattern emerge in one of my children I fear that if I don't get it "under control" now they will be derailed for life. Faith motivation: When I notice a sin pattern emerge in one of my children I am in awe that God would see fit to reveal to me where He is at work in my child's life, and invite me to be an instrument of change on their behalf. Fear: I look at the world around me and fear for my boys because the society is so sexually charged; and fear for my daughter because feminism is everywhere! Faith: I look at the world around me and thank God that He has seen fit to provide outstanding teaching about lust, as well as the roles of biblical manhood and womanhood. By faith I can teach them these things and believe that they will be a light in the darkness. Fear: I panic that my sins against my children will damage them forever. Faith: I believe that God is so amazingly redemptive, that somehow He is able to use even my shortcomings in the lives of my children for His glory. Fear: I read a parenting book and think to myself, "we are all doomed because I will never be able to implement all of this stuff!" Faith: I read a parenting book and think, "yes, I am weak...but He is strong, and His power is perfected in my weakness!" God, as I parent these precious children that you have blessed me with, help me to do so by faith in You, and not by faith in my own abilities. If the success of parenting rested on me, there would be much reason to fear. However, Your character, Your promises, Your sovereignty, and Your faithfulness I have seen over and over in Your Word, in my life, and in the lives of each of my children therefore my heart is at peace and full of joyful anticipation for what You are doing and will do in my family.

Quotable Kiddos: King Size Beds

Yesterday Joshua informed me that when he grows up he is going to have two king-sized beds in his room. One for him, and one for his wife.

Quotable Kiddos: at play

Here is the kids' congregation when they played church the other week. The stage from which they preached was the landing between the stairs on the way to the basement. Very cute and ecclectic group, just like Chesapeake. This reminds me of a new thing I'm doing that I'll pass on for your consideration. When the kids spend a lot of time setting something up, I always dread making them clean up their "hard work". Cleaning up is inevitable, however, due to the meetings we host, etc. In effort to honor their creativity and hardwork, even though I was making them put it away, I started taking pictures of their cities, villages, traintracks, battle scenes, tea parties etc. and downloading them into my photo slideshow (which is my screen saver), so now they enjoy them weeks later. Here are a couple of the photos. (Posted because they get a kick out of seeing their stuff on the blog - sounds familiar). I wish I could claim this a kinesthetic homeschool project (I am teaching Maggie to write her name), but she came up with this one herself. This is Caleb's pioneer village.

Shower of Encouragement

Briana said it best when she called last night a "shower of encouragement" for my sister-in-law, and dear friend, Emily Clancy. She continued the analogy by saying something to the effect that we have baby showers. We have bridal showers (check this one out...too cute!). These are events where we do more than show these gals how much we love them. We actually are equipping them for the major ministries of their lives. We are endowing them with the tools of the trade, so to speak. Some things are used right away. Others are put away until later. Last night, we showered Emily with scripture, evidences of grace, comfort, and inspiration. Emily was diagnosed with MS back in April of 2005. She describes the initial season of diagnosis as one where God just amazingly carried her in a grace that protected her from feeling anxious or fearful or angry. Back in December, she had her first major flare, and said she felt like God put her feet on the ground and said, "walk". It has been a very hard season. Along with the reality of physical discomfort has come the introduction of the treatment with daily injections and minor (thank you God) side-affects. Emily is grateful that she is very functional. You truly wouldn't know anything was wrong to look at her. She is one of the most energetic wives and mothers I know. But with a 3 year old and an almost 1 year old, she has the normal demands and stresses in addition to this disease. I will say as one who has the privilege of walking close to Emily through this, that she is doing amazingly well. Her focus is on God, and she is surrendering daily to the idea that this disease comes from His loving hands. Truly amazing! Heather, her friend of many years, decided to gather Emily's closest friends together to have a time of encouragement and prayer over her. We were asked to bring verses and something to share with Emily. These were our shower gifts and even though they would be "opened" all at once, our prayer is that they will prove useful in the times to come. The night was full of tears, love, and encouragement. This was a precious time. Besides the obvious beauty of seeing the body of Christ at work being His hands, His eyes, His heart for Emily was the fact that God used normal tired moms. It was almost comical to watch each young mom walk in with that all too familiar glazed over look on her face. The hostess, three months pregnant, has cared for her toddler round the clock while her husband worked out of town for four days. Briana, married to a CPA has the challenge of grueling tax season hours, meaning she cares for her toddler twins all day sometimes all night and even on Saturday morning if need be. One girl walked in and told us her two year old was trying to give up his nap...you know how hard that can be if you've ever had a napless two year old. Another girl described her day as a "how many times can mommy sin against the kids?" day. What we all realized, and what I am carrying with me today in my heart, is that in His wisdom and kindness God's plan for a group of young moms who had given and given and given all day, was to come and give one more time to their dear friend, Emily. Rather than be empty, we found ourselves full. Full of encouragement. Full of grace. Try having an encouragement shower sometime. If you have a friend who is going through something hard, rally around her. It was such a blessing for all of us, and I know it will be monument in Emily's heart and mind of the love and care of the Savior through his people... in this case, a group of tired young moms.

Lessons From the Olympics

I am not an athelete. I can definitely relate to this. Somehow in His divine will, and perhaps sense of humor, God has chosen to make me the wife of a sports fanatic who is discipling my three sons, and yes, my daughter as well, in his love for all things athletic. One of my earnest prayer requests is that I will learn to watch sports, understand them, and even enjoy them someday. As much as I don't understand the fascination with sports, I do find the olympics fascinating. (Maybe because it comes in the do-able doses of every 2/4 years). Anyway, I am learning a few things through the olympics this year, and I thought I'd share my pearls of wisdom. 1. Be discerning in which events you allow your children to watch if they tend to do things like this. I had a brief moment of panic as my sons watched the skiers who seem to fly off of the ramp. Visions of how they were going to re-create this flashed through my mind, and I found myself saying things like, "but we don't do this off of the steps, right?" "We need to remember that these men have spent years training...in the snow... on a mountain...etc." 2. My husband is an amazing sports efficianato. Now, I am used to hearing my husband say things while watching football, that the commentators repeat verbatim. I was impressed with the fact that he noticed so much detail, and could beat them to the punch, so to speak. Imagine how surprised I was, though, to hear him looking at speed skating, downhill skiing, bobsledding, and hear him say things like, "oh man, he really slowed down on that last turn." I'm thinking to myself, "he looked like he was going pretty fast to me..." Then the commentator says, "he really slowed down on that last turn." Over and over Jason is making comments about triple lutz's and some thing called skeleton (?), and he is right every time. I don't understand, but I have a whole new respect for his uncanny knack at observing sports with such discernment. 3. Olympians are hard core, and I am a ninny. Some lady from some place won a gold on some type of skiing event while she was experiencing flu symptoms...including a fever and body aches. Other people ski with broken ribs. And every single athelete is there because he or she worked grueling hours in preparation and training. I was truly convicted when I considered how "soft" I am about pushing my body, or my brain to do anything difficult. This morning, after I had already started composing this post in my mind I found in my daily reading the following verse: 1 Cor. 9:25-27 25 Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. 26 So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. 27 But I discipline my body and keep it under control, [1] lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified. How kind of God to show me this verse when I have a visual image of the olympic atheletes in my mind. As I shared before, I often try to escape my life when it gets hard. Motherhood isn't a sprint, it is a long distance endurance race. I am weak and my stamina has been pitiful lately. But I have faith that God is going to help me to exercise self control, keep the imperishable prize ahead of me in view, and give me direction so that I'm not beating at the air. And to all of the other ladies out there running your endurance race, I'm cheering you on! Can you hear the great cloud of witnesses today as you tackle your own mountain...of laundry? Can you hear the applause as you gracefully execute your turn of the grocery cart with two or more kids in tow? Can you picture the gold of children whom you correct today for the twentieth time eventually running beside you, or even ahead of you, in the race? Go for the gold!!!

The Great Escape

My mom tells a funny story about my sister when she was little. Karyn, prone to drama, was frustrated after being corrected by my mom and decided to run away. She headed out of the house on her tricycle with only the bare necessities...her baby sister (me, standing on the back), and my diapers. She headed off up a huge hill pedalling feverishly. It was a futile escape. She eventually went back home to where people loved her, cared for her, provided for her, and protected her. It dawned on me at some point in my life as wife, mother, and homemaker, that I too try to escape at times. Rather than pick up and leave, I do something more socially acceptable. In the past some of my great escapes were t.v., sleep, shopping. More recently God is showing me that the internet is my vacation of choice. I love getting online and checking blogs, reading the latest and the greatest. It gets me out of my world for a little while. None of my escapes in and of themselves are wrong. In fact, each one could be a means of grace. But I am convicted lately about hopping on my tricycle of blogworld, and e-mail and running away from the life God has called me to. God's will for me as a woman, is safe. If I try to avoid disciplining my kids, or doing quality homeschooling. If I let the laundry pile up, or play, "tag, you're it" when Jason comes home. If I know there is something I could be doing, but have decided to click from blog to blog instead - it is like running away on a tricycle. God is so gracious to remind me to "come home". Yes, I'm here bodily, but is my heart here? God help me to know when I am escaping life on the tricycle of an acceptable activity. Help me to obey you and return to the beautiful life you've called me to as a woman.

For Entertainment

This was an impressive feat that took twenty minutes. Perhaps that is due to the fact that though they are twins, and the same height, Caleb outweighs Josh by ten pounds. Poor Josh kept getting smooshed by Caleb's weight.

Blog Merge

I have decided to merge my two blogs together on Ordinary Mother. I originally started Quotable Kids just for me because I didn't want to forget all of the funny and sweet things my children say and do. My family and some close friends started checking it, however, and I thought it'd make life easier to just have one place to check rather than two. I am just going to use friday on Ordinary Mother to feature my kids. They are far more entertaining than I am that is for sure.

My Favorite Love Story

Chapter One: My Single Dream Like any other young single woman, I had my "list" of characteristics for my future spouse. In slight departure from my girl-friends, my list had no requirements for physical appearance (he didn't have to be handsome), no requirements for personality (he didn't have to be funny), and no requirements for being romantic (he didn't have to bring me flowers or write poetry). In fact, there was only one major desire on this list: he had to be a pastor. In the invisible parenthesis after this "one" characteristic were that he must be a Sovereign Grace boy, he must want to church plant, and he must lead like my Dad. My mother asked me once if I cared whether or not he would actually cherish me. In my naivete I truly thought that this was unnecessary because the manly leader-type I was looking for would probably not be real mushy-gushy. You married ladies are probably laughing, and you single ladies are probably horrified. With the "musts" was one "must not". He must not be from Chesapeake. Now this needs a bit of explanation. First, there were no guys that seemed likely candidates for a spouse. The single men in our church were older...much older. The only one my age (and he was actually younger) was Jason Reyes, and he was out of the question (obviously more to come on this topic). Second, I wanted to go somewhere else. I had been in Maryland all my life, and sang wholeheartedly with Belle of Beauty and the Beast, "I want adventure in the great wide somewhere. I want it more than I can tell." I began to collect pictures and figurines of knights in shining armor, dreaming of being whisked away to somewhere other than here! Chapter Two: The death of a vision Somewhere during college I thought I found the guy who fit my list. When things didn't work out (he was not interested), I was devastated, not by him, but by death of a dream I had for being a pastor's wife. My mother walked me through this season of my life with much compassion and wisdom. After I graduated from college, I believed that I would either be married, or be a missionary somewhere. Instead, I was working at a Christian bookstore, and substitute teaching at a middle school. It was so confusing, and I remember many nights sitting on my bed with my mom just talking and crying and praying. I thought that if I honored God by not "dating" He would come through for me, and in my mind, He didn't. When I think back on my legalistic arrogance, thinking that my performance would result in God being obligated to bless me...I truly marvel at His mercy and patience. At the very core of my dreams for ministry, was not love for His glory, or even love for others...but love for my glory. We joined Sovereign Grace in 1985. I was fifteen, and from that point on the leaders of the movement had a movie-star like quality in my teenage mind. I glamorized the lives of the pastors and church planters. Seeing my Dad up close only convinced me more that I wanted to marry a pastor, like him. My mother was a compelling case for ministry as well. I wanted to do the hospitality like she did. I wanted women to look to me for wisdom and counsel, just like they did for her. It all seemed so wonderful because my parents have always loved ministry. Even when it was difficult, they never complained. So when I hit what felt like old maidhood a the ripe old age of twenty three, and there was nobody on the horizon, I was very depressed. I wish I could tell you that I reached a point where I became content with being single. I never did. By God's grace, I was able to serve in the local church in a variety of ways including leading a teenage girls' Bible study, playing keyboards on Sunday morning, and teaching at our church school. These things were very fulfilling, and I am so grateful for those unique years when I could really pour myself into the church. God also provided an accountability group that was very instrumental in helping me to be consistent in several of the spiritual disciplines. It was a season of growing in genuine love for the church. And slowly, I stopped dreaming of marrying a pastor. Whether that was a great spiritual accomplishment, or the work of my desire to be married, I can't say. All I know is that I eventually changed my list to be a man who loved God, loved the church, and could lead me. But whatever His means, God helped me to lay aside the ideal of marrying a pastor. Chapter three: The Boy Next Door Jason didn't literally live next door, but for a while he lived right down the street, and for years he lived in my neighborhood. We met when he was fifteen, and I was sixteen. A few "aw, isn't that sweet" things are that he still remembers what I was wearing the first time he saw me. He also kept ribbons that fell out of a hair comb I wore for my sister's wedding (we still hadn't really spoken to each other). I found them after we were married in a box with every letter I ever wrote to him. The short story about our early relationship is that we dated on and off for two years with much teenage drama. It was love or hate and nothing in between. Even though this was before anyone kissed dating goodbye, I still knew that the relationship was wrong, and had much guilt over it. We finally broke up for good, with the help of my parents, and I committed to not enter another dating relationship until marriage was an option. It took me years to get over Jason. Without going into unnecessary detail (why change now, Laurie, you're asking), Jason at one point, a couple years after our last break up asked me if I ever thought someday in the future I could see us being married. An odd question that had something to do with the fact that my attention had recently, after years, turned to another guy. But still, a shocking question, to which I answered, "God told me you were not the one." He was very upset. He always thought we would get married (I never knew he thought this). When I went inside, I cried and cried. After I told my mother about it she said, "Laurie, you don't know if God told you that or not. Why would you say it that way?" I was shocked. I thought my parents would be with me on the "no more Jason" bandwagon. But they were with me on the "no more men until it's the right time" bandwagon. Well, that conversation helped Jason to be completely free from me emotionally. Soon after he went to Knoxville. Chapter Four: Birth of a Vision You gals in Knoxville, if you've hung in here that long, were part of a crucial element in the story. In Knoxville, Jason joined Cornerstone Church, and began serving there in a way that he hadn't at Chesapeake. He really grew spiritually in this new environment and was thriving with godly friends, and regular meetings with one of the pastors. Once in a while Jason would call me from Tennessee and we would have great conversations. It was the only time we functioned as "just friends". I will say, however, that I was never indifferent enough to feel no pang of jealousy when he mentioned a girl he was interested in. Still, it was as neutral as we ever have been toward each other, and very strange to not love or hate as our custom was in the past. When Jason came home, I noticed his love for the church had grown. He served at Chesapeake with the youth (along with my dad and brother, Jimmy). He played drums on our worship team. But still, he was eager to get back to Knoxville. God had different plans. His money ran out, and he had to spend a year working as a car salesman here in Maryland. God used this season in many ways in Jason's life, but that's a different story. During the year Jason was working to save money for UT, I became close friends with his sister Emily. I spent much time at the Reyes house with her. It's funny to think back on how Jason would barely acknowledge me at his house. His parents were great. In fact, for all of the years Jason and I knew each other, his mother held to the conviction that I was going to be his wife. She never wavered in this...she's the only one who never wavered. Chapter Five: The Invisible Hand of Providence Jason was all set to go back to Knoxville when at the last minute, God intervened and his loan fell through. Miraculously, Towson University accepted his very late application to the education department. He was disappointed, but couldn't deny God's hand in the whole thing. Unbeknownst to me, my dad had been praying that God would bring my husband around before the end of the year. Jason's mom was praying that God would change our hearts toward each other. The Reyes' were coming over for Thanksgiving in 1994. (This was seven years after Jason and I first met.) All I remember is that Jason, Jimmy, Emily and I were playing cards and Jason was flirting with me. I kept thinking, "hey...It's me...Laurie...what are you doing?" Still, I liked it. Something in my heart started to change towards this guy that I thought God told me I would never marry. No, he wasn't a pastor, but he loved the Lord, he loved the church, and he was a leader. Besides, I knew him. I knew everything about him :good, bad, ugly. I watched him grow up right next to me, and rather than a prince sweeping me off of my feet to a far away land, I found comfort and charm in being with my old friend, the boy next door. In December, just in time to honor my dad's prayer, Jason took a huge risk and asked me if I would enter into courtship (I don't think we called it that) with him. He said he was nervous because of what I said years before, but took the risk anyway. His side of the story was that since that September when God closed the doors to go to back to Knoxville, God opened his eyes to see what was here in Maryland. It was like God put on a pair of glasses, and he could see qualities in me that he wanted in a wife. I wasn't the southern belle he was hoping for (I am the quintessential northeast girl), but ironically, I was born in Kentucky. Good enough. Chapter Six: Dream Come True From that first discussion about our relationship, we knew we would marry one another. On Valentines Day, just two months later, Jason proposed to me. We were married in August of '95. It all felt so normal, and almost matter of fact. It wasn't the whirlwind, or fireworks, or drama that I expected. But something about it was sweeter, and even more romantic in hindsight. Now, if you have hung in here this long and you're still reading, you are thinking, "Hey, you got what you wanted. You are a pastor's wife." When I married Jason, he was going to be an elementary school teacher. Now granted, he chose this major so that if he ever wanted to be on a church planting team, he could find work anywhere. Still, neither of us thought he would be a pastor. Jason finished his last year of school during the first year of marriage. I remember the time came for him to make a huge decision to either take one of three teaching positions offered to him, or work at the church school at Chesapeake. The church job didn't pay well, but we had a special government home-loan that adjusted to our income level, so it was possible to live on the low salary. He prayed, sought counsel, prayed more, and decided to work for the church as a middle school teacher. We were helping the pastor over the youth at the time as well. Over the course of a few years it became evident to the pastors that Jason had a call on his life for pastoral ministry. He began to oversee the youth ministry, and continue teaching in the school. Then through a series of events, needs arose that eventually led to his being the pastor of married life ministry (now called "adult life"). He was ordained in 2002, and continues to grow as a pastor under my dad's leadership. Truly the testimony of our marriage has been that God has given me what I did not deserve. He has given me more than I thought to dream of. Yes my husband is a pastor, and there is significant blessing in our lives because of this. But one thing I didn't think to hope for was being cherished. I am the most spoiled wife I know. There isn't a moment when I don't feel absolutely loved and cherished by this man. He is a joy to serve. He is easy to follow. Now, rather than dreaming of being a pastor's wife, I'm pursuing what other women, regardless of their husband's profession pursue, being a Proverbs 31 woman, and a Titus 2 lady. I want to be worthy of this man. Even more, I want to walk in a manner that's worthy of the gospel. Many times when we are sitting in bed at night, reading or talking, I will say, "Can you believe we married each other...and we have four kids in the other rooms sleeping?!" I look at my handsome man (who truly gets better looking with age) and think, "I am married to my dream man!"

One Man's Hill Is Another Man's Mountain

The boys spent two hours sledding down the front yard...their own little olympic event!

My Snow Angel

It was actually too deep for Maggie to make a good snow angel.

Manly Man

Jason was the first one in the family outside. He loves shoveling snow! What a handsome guy.

Snow Day Semi-live Blog: Some History

It began with my mother. She grew up in New Orleans and when she moved to Maryland the novelty of snow never faded. Every time it snowed she made chili and cornbread, and spent the day cooking, bundling us up, sending us out, baking cookies, warming us up with hot cocoa and warm cookies, drying our clothes, then beginning again from bundling us up. We stayed outside for hours...until we were numb. My family will remember a few of the following: snow mobiles with the Connellee's, Hanson Hill, K-Court snow ball battle, especially fun at night, and the snow fort in front of 1425. As much fun as snow days were as a child, I admit I like them even more as a mother. My mom showed me how to do a snow day, and I am happy to say that I made chili, bundled up the kiddos, played outside for a while, and now am ready to make cookies and get the hot cocoa ready. Here's a little bit of our world on a snow day.

Winter Wonderland

This is the scene we woke up to this morning. It reminded me of Isaiah 1:18 "Come, let us reason together, says the Lord: though your sins were like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool."

My Other Two Blessings

After posting the picture of Joshua and Caleb yesterday, I thought I'd show off my other two blessings. Is it me, or did these two get a little more of that beautiful latino blood from Daddy?

Grace Unmeasured

I am always amazed when I see clear evidence of the Holy Spirit at work in my children's hearts. This picture is a monument to grace. How aware I am that this has so little to do with me. Over and over again I see God taking what I have sown in pitiful measure, and causing it to multiply by His grace alone. And so many bad things I have sown (anger, impatience, laziness),yet He does not treat me as my sins deserve. My children have been with us in worship over the past month, and it has been helpful to see first hand how they worship in a corporate context. I asked my boys if they ever felt the desire to raise their hands in worship. Two said, "yes, really bad, but I'm afraid to." I remember this well from my own childhood. I have been praying for them, and giving them the "pep talk" about the ways we express worship to God, how He is worthy and to be feared more than man, etc. Well, last Sunday one of my boys raised his hands in worship. Now, being the gushy mom that I am I cried and cried. I was so grateful for God's work in this little boy's life. I am crying as I type. It is such undeserved favor. I'm overwhelmed. This was the song he was worshiping to: Grace Unmeasured Grace unmeasured, vast and free That knew me from eternity That called me out before my birth To bring You glory on this earth Grace amazing, pure and deep That saw me in my misery That took my curse and owned my blame So I could bear Your righteous name Chorus Grace paid for my sins And brought me to life Grace clothes me with power To do what is right Grace will lead me to heaven Where I’ll see Your face And never cease To thank You for Your grace Grace abounding, strong and true That makes me long to be like You That turns me from my selfish pride To love the cross on which You died Grace unending all my days You’ll give me strength to run this race And when my years on earth are through The praise will all belong to You Grace Unmeasured by Bob Kauflin © 2005 Sovereign Grace Praise (BMI) May the truth of these lyrics sink deeper and deeper into all of our hearts!

Sole Survivor

We have an official winner of the Survivor: Hermit Crab Edition. It was official last Wednesday that Hulky won, outliving Pinky, Spidey, and Batman. After twelve months of rigorous play, and six months of utter neglect, Hulky remains the sole survivor. In a previous post I sang the praises of my gifted family members, while humbly not calling attention to my own special gifting. Well, I can keep silent no longer. It seems my gift would be the ability to keep small creatures alive for long periods of time. This gift was first uncovered when my sister gave us a beta fish known to us as Elijah Bluefish. Karyn’s fish lasted the traditional month or two. My fish lasted three years! Three years of cleaning a fish bowl and feeding a creature I never wanted in the first place. My mother, as you know, graciously gave my children hermit crabs. Karyn’s lived a traditional one to two months, mine lived two years (and that’s not counting how long they were alive at the pet store before we got them), and Hulky is still going strong. Well, now that I look at the preceding paragraph, I humbly realize that maybe I’m not so gifted at keeping small creatures alive, it’s really that Karyn (to whom I have been comparing my abilities all along) has a knack at killing them. Don’t tell her I said so.

Built-in Blessings of Motherhood

Built into the ministry of motherhood is the opportunity to experience with uncanny regularity the truth of Matthew 25:34-36

34 Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. 35 For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, 36 I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’

On this day I will feed five other hungry mouths, fill cups numerous times, bathe and clothe at least one little body (while supervising closely the self-bathing and clothing of three other little bodies). I will care for them if they are sick, or even just bang their head, or pinky toe (as Caleb has done three times in two days!). How kind that God provides opportunities to live this verse all day long. No, I’m not headed to soup kitchen this morning. No, I’m not collecting clothing for the local crisis pregnancy center. I’m not going to visit cancer patients at the local children’s hospital, or sharing the gospel up at the detention center for women. These are the images that normally come to mind when I read this passage of scripture. These are also things I would love to be doing, and Lord willing, someday, I will be able to do some of them. But today, I am going to try to remember when I pour that cup of juice watered down, or spread cream cheese on a bagel, slide a pink cotton dress over a precious little head, or tape a pinky toe to its neighbor, that I am not just doing it for my children. Somehow, in the amazing grace and mercy of God, He receives these things as if I were doing them for Him! Thank you God, for this amazing season of life, and all of the blessings You have built into it!

Jason is My Refuge and Strength

...a very present help in time of trouble? Isn't that absolutely blasphemous?! Yet I had a lightbulb moment at the conference. This is functionally how I live my life at times. Warren Boettcher was teaching the ladies about having a gentle, quiet spirit. One of the illustrations he gave was about his wife. He shared, with her permission, about a time when she went to a youth retreat ahead of him. The whole time while he was gone she was ministering and had so much faith. As soon as he arrived she began to fill him in on her concerns and troubles. This wasn't helpful to him. She realized at that moment that she had shifted her trust in God which enabled her to minister before her husband arrived, to looking to her husband to solve her problems. "ding"! A light bulb. I see patterns of the same thing in my life. I can go all day long serving in the home without Jason being here. I do it by God's grace either consciously or unconsciously. But, when Jason comes home I at times functionally turn to him to be my refuge. I want him to protect me from the "heat" children can bring. I want him to be my "help" when it comes to dealing with the kids. I want him to be my strength in weakness. I am married to a unique man. Brace yourself. He wouldn't wade through a mess to get to the next room. He would pick it up. He would not hurdle folded clothes, he would put them away. I can't fathom him not putting the trash out, or leaving the yard unmowed. He serves our family heroically. He doesn't go to the "cave" so to speak, after a long day of work, but generally spends time with the children so I can finish dinner. He sometimes sends me upstairs to take a bath after dinner if it has been a particularly hard day. All of these things are such a blessing, yet I can twist them into expectations, and then be disappointed if he gets home late, or has more nights out than usual, or simply chooses to walk me through the heat rather than shield me from it (his lightbulb moment from the last marriage retreat). Last year, Jason went to Uganda for 12 days. I missed him horribly, but felt amazing grace to do what needed to be done, alone. I know these were unique circumstances, but it proves to me just how great is the strength, help, and grace of God. If it was sufficient for those twelve days, it is certainly sufficient for the rest of this day. Don't hear what I'm not saying, I believe Jason is glorifying God when he seeks to love me as Christ loved the church. I am the one who can get confused and begin expecting him to do what no man is able to: be my functional Savior. Psalm 46:1 God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Ahhhh...much better!

War of the Reyes'

Don’t worry, Jason and I are getting along fine. But there is a war going on here in the Reyes household. At the regional marriage conference we recently attended with the other churches under Dave Harvey’s leadership, we learned from Paul Tripp that marriage is war. I’ll be brief. It is crucial to know that we are at war. The war is between the kingdom of self and the Kingdom of God. This war is fought in the mundane moments of our lives, not in grand gestures and one time surrenders. “What rules the mundane rules you.” The kingdom of God means living my life for another. This is ministry. This is possible in our marriage, because Jesus came into the world to save us from our sin and free us to genuinely love our spouses as He has loved us. I obviously cannot do this teaching justice. If you can find the teaching, which I’m sure will be available soon, get it! It was helpful even just to read this text with marriage in mind.

Galatians 5:13-17 13 For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another. 14 For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” 15 But if you bite and devour one another, watch out that you are not consumed by one another.16 But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. 17 For the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other, to keep you from doing the things you want to do.

When It Doesn't Come Naturally

Isn’t God kind to endow various gifts to people? I am related to exceptionally gifted women. My mother is highly administrative. The women’s ministry at Chesapeake amazing, complete with weekly Bible Study (child care provided), quarterly ladies meeting (food provided), amazing ladies retreat every other year, and the Christmas Breakfast which draws more unbelievers than any other church event. My mom’s gift of vision and administrative ability is a distinct means of grace to the ladies at Chesapeake. My sister, Karyn, is an amazing interior designer. She has such a gift of making things beautiful. Anytime she stays at my house to watch the kids, when I come home, it is “re-accessorized”. It’s amazing what she can do by just clustering this, or shifting that. My sister-in-law Abby, is the voice of songs such as Everlasting, Jesus, My Only Hope, and many more on the Sovereign Grace worship cd’s. Her voice is more than beautiful, it is anointed! My sister in law Emily is a great writer. In particular, she writes skits. I am amazed at her creativity, humor, and depth revealed in each and every skit she writes. Again, it goes beyond talent to something anointed by God. My mother in law, Debbie, is a gifted choir director. She directed the Christmas Cantata this year, and her grace and musicality, combined with love for worship made for a powerful performance. I love seeing God use different people's gifts to bless the church, but lately I have been thinking about what happens when God calls us to something that we are not naturally gifted in. It was triggered by a post by Carolyn McCulley. Carolyn was answering a question someone asked about counsel for introverts who want to grow in hospitality. Carolyn wisely answered beginning with the following:

I hope it encourages you to know this, but some of the best people I know at drawing others out are actually introverts. They've submitted themselves to the sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit, so there is a Spirit-controlled aspect to their natural personality, if you will.

Somehow, Carolyn’s comment has resonated with me ever since. There are some areas where God has given a measure of gifting or capacity and those things feel natural to me. There are many other areas, however, that don’t feel like such a good fit. For example, I am not naturally gifted in home management. But I have seen how by submitting to the Sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit (not always a pretty picture, I assure you) there is to the glory of God alone, growth in this area. Seeing how God can work through the Holy Spirit to cause ability beyond what is natural gives me faith to step out where I might have feared to tread before. It also helps me to want to submit more to the Holy Spirit’s work, instead of wish I were naturally a little more cut out for certain things. Gifts given by God do most definitely glorify God – my family is a constant display of this truth. But it is beautiful in a different way to see ladies walking with “a Spirit-controlled aspect to their natural personality,” like when someone who doesn’t feel comfortable cooking brings a meal to a new mom; or when a shy caregroup leader’s wife leads her growth group; when a “comfortable behind-the-scenes pastor’s wife” gives a teaching (mom); or when a more “spontaneous” lady submits to the routine of housework; when a night owl learns to rise early for devotions, or a non-reader makes it through the Bible – what beauty! “The Lord God helps me, therefore I have not been disgraced; therefore I have set my face like a flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame.” Isaiah 50:7

Comparison Kills Contentment

The categories can range from physical appearance, house, and husband to gifting, maturity and sphere of ministry. From the material to the immaterial, the temptation to compare ourselves to one another as women can be a hard one to avoid. The blogosphere has given even more opportunity as we are not only aware of what the ladies in our immediate area are doing, we are aware of what some gal in Wisconsin, Texas, or Idaho is also doing. One thing blogging has revealed to me is just how many of me are out there. And not just that they are “me” in the sense that they are moms who enjoy writing, but in many cases they are a much better version of “me”. Some excel in humor. Some are thriving homeschool moms. Some seem to be gourmet cooks. Some are avid readers. Others are insightful, and offer profound biblical truth. By and large I find that hearing how other women are seeking to apply the principles of biblical womanhood very encouraging. I love knowing that God is being glorified in homes all over the world as ordinary women live quiet and humble lives serving their families. It inspires me to follow them as they follow Christ. But what happens when I sinfully compare myself and my “lot” with those around me? Comparison kills contentment? Not exactly. It is a catchy phrase though, and for me it is helpful in the moment. But my pride is what really kills contentment. It is revealed in thinking I deserve better than what I have. It is revealed in a lack of gratitude for the grace and blessings God has given me. It is revealed in not being humble enough to learn from others rather than resent their maturity or gifting. It is revealed in thinking that I should be able to choose the circumstances in which I am to glorify God. Charles Spurgeon wrote the following helpful encouragement from today's reading from Morning and Evening:

“The capacity of our wishes who can measure? but the immeasurable wealth of God can more than overflow it. I ask thee if thou art not complete when God is thine? Dost thou want anything but God? Is not His all-sufficiency enough to satisfy thee if all else should fail?... Dwell in the light of thy Lord, and let thy soul be always ravished with His love. Get out the marrow and fatness which this portion yields thee.”

Content = satisfied. God’s Word is so abundant with verses on where we are to find our satisfaction. Psalm 90:14 is one of my favorite: “Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.” It is wonderful that God’s love is what brings satisfaction, not my performance, appearance, or circumstances. And His love demonstrated in sending Jesus to die on the cross, suffering the wrath that Ideserve, so that I may indeed, be loved with the love the Father has for the Son is staggering truth that makes it very difficult to look at others, and say “I wish I had her…” By the way, the phrase Comparison Kills Contentment is not original. I heard it on the Christian radio station a few years back, and though the phrase stuck, the speaker's name didn't. If anyone knows who he is, please let me know so I can give him due credit.

Small Beginnings

The Reyes family dinner table has evolved over the years. When the twins were newborns, I was amazed at how these normally content babies timed their cries with the first bite of dinner. No sooner did we sit down to eat when somebody needed our attention. To this day I attribute my speed eating ability to this phase in their lives. Then there was the period when the boys decided they wouldn’t eat vegetables anymore. Dinner became an unpleasant festival of the wills, so to speak. As they grew older, the family dinner resembled a marathon of "eat as fast as possible" so we can get back to moving around. It was so hard for these little guys to sit still to eat. Growing up in the Cannon household, one of my favorite memories of home was family dinner. We all love to communicate, so dinner was a wonderful time of discussion, debate, laughter, and real family bonding. I have always been persuaded about the importance of family dinner. Now that the boys are older, eating vegetables, and growing in self-control, Jason and I are trying to use dinner-time intentionally in the building of our family. Jason is leading the family in our New Year’s resolution to grow in gratitude this year, so at the table we aim to stimulate conversation around what blessings we are grateful for today. He has also begun reading the book, Training Hearts, Teaching Minds after we eat. So we started our more intential approach to family dinner this past week. God kindly provided help through His Word. I read in Ezra 3 that when the people rebuilt the foundation of the new temple, there were two reactions: one group rejoiced, worshiped, shouted for joy; the other group wept, wailed, and mourned. The notes in my Bible make the following comments: The tears of the older members of the community were not tears of joy, but tears of disappointment because of the contrast between this small beginning, and the splendor of Solomon’s temple. (3:12)” What does this have to do with the Reyes’ family dinner? I have to ask myself if I rejoice in small beginnings, or lament the fact that our family dinners aren’t like the ones I grew up with. There is so much to rejoice and be grateful in. Yes, it is a small beginning – we aren’t talking of the deep things of God yet. We do have to teach our boys how to think beyond, “I’m grateful for my toys” to see how God has interacted with them on this particular day. We do have to say repeatedly, “sit down, please,” “say excuse me,” “stop playing with your food.” It might not look like my mom’s dinner table, but we are following in my parent's footsteps: building, by God’s grace, brick by brick, a family that will one day be monument to the glory of God. I want to rejoice in this small beginning. Ezra 3:11 And they sang responsively, praising and giving thanks to the Lord, “for He is good,for His steadfast love endures forever toward Israel.” And all the people shouted with a great shout when they praised the Lord, because the foundation of the house of the Lord was laid. What small beginning are you rejoicing in today?

Celebration of Minutia

I was trying to think of something profound to post, but, nah, that ain’t happenin’!(If you're looking for profound, go here). Instead, I find myself compelled to celebrate a bit of minutia. After all, it’s the stuff my life is primarily composed of. All of you who admitted to enjoying being alone at Wal Mart on a Friday night can probably relate. Today’s celebration of minutia is this: Aldi is adding a fresh meat section around January 9th! I almost did a little dance at the checkout counter today. What is Aldi you may ask? It is how I can feed three boys with humongous appetites without getting a job to support the food bill. It’s meat for less than $2 per pound. It’s yogurt, cereal, graham crackers, granola bars, and fruit (the kid food Mecca, if you will)…for prices so low it’s almost fun to go grocery shopping.  The only thing I didn’t like about it was the limited selection of flash frozen meat. Not anymore! In the place that used to have bread for $.39 a loaf, there are beautiful meat refrigerators just waiting to be stocked.

Another thing about Aldi – you don’t go to Aldi, you do Aldi. It begins with the necessary preparations: one quarter, a bunch of blue bags, a Starbucks to help you keep up with the checkout girl. You take your quarter, give it to whichever kid’s turn it is to put it in the slot, and remove your shopping cart. Each child proceeds through the doors on a mission to collect as many empty boxes as possible while we shop. We go through the aisles, a force to be reckoned with as the boys have each collected at least thirteen cardboard boxes. We load a whole cart with food. We proceed to checkout. The lady and I give each other the eye of the tiger: who will be victorious? She seeks to scan all of my food items as fast as possible. No one is allowed to bag as they go, so I must think fast, “which items are bulky and durable enough to get tossed to the bottom of the cart, which would get crushed?”  I have yet to load quickly enough to be waiting for her to scan the next item…it is one of my New Year’s resolutions, though. I finish loading my food into the basket. If I haven’t broken a sweat, I know I wasn’t really trying my hardest. We use the boxes and blue bags from home, to put the groceries in (bags aren’t included; you either find boxes, bring your own, or pay for bags). We return the cart – next kid gets to retrieve the coin. We head home.

One confession I must make. I feel compelled to share this with you in order to help you not make the same mistake. I sent my husband to Aldi once. Okay, I know, horrors! How could I send an unsuspecting guy into a store like Aldi? He was quarterless, bagless, and didn’t know that you couldn’t sort at the checkout counter. People in the line behind him were not friendly…they were like, “Hey, if you don’t know how to do Aldi; you got no business being here buddy.” It was sad. So, please, learn from my mistake. Do not send your man to Aldi to pick up milk and toilet paper.

Those of you from Chesapeake, I’ll meet you in the meat section January9. Maybe we should consider starting a little playgroup there. It’s the one place I can always count on seeing one of my mom friends.

So there it is, a celebration of minutia – Aldi, good food cheap, and fresh chicken coming soon. What bit of minutia are you celebrating today?

I Love New

I love new. There is something so clean and pure and appealing about newness. I love the stiff binding on a new journal; I love a new blank, ink-free page. I love morning. I love the emerging of the next season; the beginning of the school year, the start of a new book. I love new styles in fashion, and new shoes and new purses. I love new templates, new ideas, and new friends. I love new foods and new restaurants. And I absolutely love New Year’s Day. Ahhhh, the commencement of a new year is upon us. With it are the accompanying events: the Granola Bowl (my husband was mud encrusted, smelly, and happier than you can imagine playing football in the rain); the New Year’s Eve karaoke party at the Young’s (at which, thanks to my parents who never let me listen to any secular music -a fact I am usually grateful for, I could only sing a few songs from the 80’s that I heard at the community pool…lovely, to be sure – of all time periods to know music from…but, I digress); and finally last but not least (drum roll, please) the New Year’s resolutions! Something not so new: my love/hate relationship with the New Year’s resolutions. I love to harness the energy and incentive that comes with the fresh new year, and therefore, set numerous goals to achieve within that year. But, I also have had the unpleasant experience of not keeping resolutions within weeks, maybe even days of making them. This year I realized that both my love and my hate (slightly overstated for effect…more like a frustrations with) for resolutions can be rooted in pride…my old enemy. If I make a resolution to do many things, pride can be revealed in the fact that I am overestimating what I am capable of. It very well could also reveal self-sufficiency as I muster up the energy to change. Could it even be worldly to use one day of the year to resolve what should be perhaps, a daily process for me as a Christian? On the other hand, if I avoid making resolutions, pride can manifest itself in the fact that I don’t want to fail. It would be easier to just not try and thus avoid the humiliation of failure. So, it is with an awareness of pride lurking that I make resolutions this year. I want to be intentional in my growth in godliness and New Year’s provides a specific time to think about specific ways to grow. I know that I am not going to perfectly keep my resolutions. It is yet another reminder that there is only One who perfectly carries out a perfect plan. New Year’s resolutions can be an opportunity to grow in humility as I seek God about what He would have me attempt this year, ask for His help to do it, and when I fail, be freshly reminded about my frailty and His power. What I love most that is new are His mercies every morning; great is His faithfulness, not my own.

Blog Break

Due to the upcoming holidays and the extra events that take place in my home, at other’s homes, and at church, I have decided (with my husband’s counsel) to put a pause on the blogging. Any of you who know me have heard me admit to NOT being a multi-tasker. I will continue in January. I will be e-mailing still, so if you want to send me a line  via e-mail, please do. My e-mail address is laurie.reyes3@verizon.net . Hope to hear from you soon. I’ll still be checking your sites!

Favorite Rainy Day Activity

As I type this favorite rainy day activity, it is absolutely beautiful and sunny outside! I still want to pass it on because if you’re like me, cold or rainy days and little boys make, shall I say, a “sanctifying” combination. My kids love this game. They have been playing it and it’s variations since they were probably two years old. I can’t remember how it started (probably a frazzled mom desperate to help her kids expend some energy). The great thing is that it is more entertaining for me than the kids. Freeze Dance In it’s most basic form, you play music loud…really loud, and the kids dance their little hearts out until I press pause and the music stops. Then they freeze in whatever position they were last in. They try to stay frozen until I turn the song back on. What is fun about this is watching them dance. I laugh my head off while they try to impress me with their latest “moves”. Each kid has a different style: Izzy does some manly karate dance; Joshua does sort of a hip hop/disco combo; Caleb attempts break dancing on the floor; and Maggie does what I call “funky ballet”. I am amazed that they are so uninhibited. They really love when mommy or daddy joins them. It’s not a pretty sight, I assure you, but there is something liberating about just bustin’ a move with the kids. Variation #1 – with pillows Set up a pillow on the floor for each child. When the music stops they have to sit on their pillow as fast as possible. I do not make this a competition with the whole musical chairs approach because the main thing is that they keep moving and get the energy out. (Besides, as I have posted before, competition is a way of life here with the Reyes boys, so I do not need additional contexts for sanctification in my life or theirs!) Variation #2 – solo dance They all sit on pillows and I call a name. That child comes to the middle and does a solo dance until I cut off the music. Variation #3 – body part down At the age the boys are now, this is their favorite way to play freeze dance. When I cut off the music, I shout out a body part, and they have to get that part to the floor as fast as they can. Some examples are: ear! Elbow! Knees! Back! Bum-bum! Head! Chin! I would love to hear what your family’s favorite rainy day activity is. If there isn’t room to leave it in my comment box, please post it on your own blog, and come back and tell us that you posted via comment.

Wise Words from Avonlea

“Mrs. Allan’s face was not the face of the girl-bride whom the minister had brought to Avonlea five years before. It had lost some of its bloom and youthful curves, and there were fine, patient lines about eyes and mouth. A tiny grave in that very cemetery accounted for some of them; and some new ones had come during the recent illness, now happily over, of her little son. But Mrs. Allan’s dimples were as sweet and sudden as ever, her eyes as clear and bright and true; and what her face lacked of girlish beauty was now more than atoned for in added tenderness and strength.”
-L.M. Montgomery pg. 130 Anne of Avonlea

I just read this the other night and it reminded me of another thing I read in a book by Bryan Chappel (I believe it is his book Holiness by Grace) . I don’t know the exact wording but the idea was this: Trials and suffering both harden us and soften us. They harden us to the pleasures and temptations of the world because we realize how life here must be (and anticipate Heaven where there are no more sorrows). They soften us to be compassionate and loving towards others.

Mrs. Allan is not a real woman, but I know women who through adversity have the added beauty of tenderness and strength. I have had no real trial in life so far, but I know eventually I will. May it not just leave me old, ugly, and bitter. But like women I am privileged to watch up close, may it serve to make me more tender and strong. May it harden and soften me.  

Another Really Great Blog

If you haven't been there yet, be sure to visit Bob Kauflin's new blog Worship Matters. The post from this past Monday, November 14, was especially encouraging. I was going to pull a quote from it, but the whole thing was so good, I would have had to commit plagiarism in order to capture the idea.

One of Those Moms

I really wish I had been taught more about the doctrine of indwelling sin before I had kids. Perhaps an awareness of pride in my heart would have kept me from thinking the following: “I’ll never be one of those moms.” Oh how pride goes before the fall, and in my life it has looked a little like this.

1. I became one of those moms when my toddler twins screamed bloody murder at the Target because they couldn’t have the bouncy ball they wanted.


2. I became one of those moms when I just couldn’t keep up with the runny noses in February.


3. I became one of those moms when my kids did eventually begin eating pop tarts for breakfast, and frozen chicken nuggets for dinner.


4. I became one of those moms when after asking my son if he had changed his shirt today, he responded with, “no, this is only the second day I wore this one and it doesn’t have anything on it.” And I was okay with that.


5. I became one of those moms when during my third trimester of pregnancy with Maggie I yelled to my boys, “If you make me get up off of this sofa, you are really going to be sorry!!!!” and then five minutes later, “I really mean it this time!” and then five minutes later “I am telling you boys – you are really going to regret it if you don’t obey mommy!” and then five minutes later “wait till your father gets home!”


6. I became one of those moms when I was excited to be alone at Wal Mart on a Friday night.


7. I became one of those moms when I owned at least seven pairs of pajama pants that aren’t worn just for pajamas.


8. I became one of those moms when at 3pm I realized I hadn’t brushed my teeth yet.


9. I became one of those moms when I was on a date with my husband and the “let down reflex” resulted in two wet spots in not so discreet places.


10. I became one of those moms when I bribed my kids with lollipops every time I took them to the mall.

Are you one of those moms? If so, you’re in good company. If you aren’t one of those moms, take my advice and never look at a runny nosed, screaming toddler who has blue sticky lollipop mouth at the mall and think to yourself, “I’ll never…”

Favorite Birthday Ever

Today is my birthday. I have enjoyed 35 years of incredible grace and mercy on my life! I can honestly say that my life has been better than I could have imagined. All I can say is thank You, God that you have not treated me as my sins deserved, but instead, have poured out grace upon grace; kindness on kindness. I am overwhelmed as I consider how goodness and mercy have followed me all of the days of my life.

Wise Words About Providence

"God works in mysterious ways. He raised Moses in a palace to serve in a desert. He raised Joseph in a desert to serve in a palace." - Ravi Zaccharias

Favorite Piper Teaching

Well, it's not my favorite, but it is one of my favorites. I could never choose just one. As much as I listen to Piper online, this is one teaching I keep going back to over and over again. Go here and find teaching number 173. Let Love Be Genuine Enjoy!

Just Thought I'd Ask

Jason and I were having a discussion the other night and I thought I’d invite the blogosphere in on the question:

“What would you tell yourself if you could go back in time ten years or so? (whatever your previous season of life was)”

“What would you tell yourself if you could speak to you as an elderly person?”

Wise Words About Humility

“Humility in Scripture does not mean pretending to be worthless and refusing positions of responsibility, but knowing and keeping the place God has appointed for one.  Being humble is a matter of accepting God’s arrangement, whether it means the high exposure of leadership, or the obscurity of being a servant.” –The Reformation Study Bible pg. 1519 in “The Humble Obedience of Christ”

I know that the place God has called me to is my home. It is indeed primarily a role of obscure servant-hood. I don’t think I ever connected my obedience to God through His calling me as a helper to my husband, a lover of my children, and a worker in my home as an expression of humility. Conversely, I have never associated my lack of keeping the place God has called me to a source of pride. Laziness…yes. Selfishness…yes. But pride?

One manifestation of pride is me seeking to elevate my will above God’s will. This happens primarily in the so-called minutia of life. It is expressed in things like napping when I have laundry to do. It’s in wasting money on fast food when my husband told me we need to stick to the budget. It’s in threatening and repeating myself to my kids rather than lovingly bringing biblical correction. It’s in skipping Math today because I would rather go to Target.

What is the solution to my pitiful pride? How do I joyfully get on the path of humility right here and now in the minutia of life? One way is to consider the ultimate example: Jesus.

“In His humiliation, He left behind the eternal glory that was His, taking on a perfect and complete human nature: body, soul, spirit. Through His incarnation He lived a life of poverty and suffering. He was rejected by His nation, finally to die the shameful death of a common criminal.” –RSB pg. 1519 “The Humble Obedience of Christ”

Jesus humbled Himself to become a man, live a perfect life – completely conformed to the will of the Father, and then die on a cross suffering the wrath that my sins deserve. And now, because of His humility, I can have grace to conform to the will of the Father as well. Even now, when I get up from the computer and commence the day’s activities, I want to keep the Savior’s example before me.

It’s time to make the beds!