My New Favorite Day of the Week

I've always been comfortable talking with almost anyone one-on-one, whether I've known them for a while or we've just met. There are few social situations that really stretch me. Some people call that being a loud-mouth. I like to think of it as being outgoing.

Anyway.

The elderly, however, is one group of people (I'm a little embarrassed to admit) among whom I've always felt a little ill at ease. I'm not sure why exactly. It doesn't make much sense. I just don't know what to say or how to act or if I'm seriously getting on their nerves.

My husband, on the other hand, has a gift. It's more than just your normal, being fine around the elderly just like any other person sort of thing. The man just warms up to anyone with wrinkles and becomes their best friend instantaneously. I mean it's love at first sight every time. He just knows how to connect with them and love on them so they feel important, special, and heard.  It's pretty amazing.

After we spent two weeks at my 91-year-old grandmother's house, I realized that I think my son has inherited the gift.  He and Grandma played as easily as old friends.  She would pull out the poker chips and he'd reorganize them make big mess.  He'd eye her walker and she'd take him for a ride in it.

When we returned from California I was listening to one of the sermons we'd missed while we were gone, and our pastor was talking about giving.  He was challenging us to give in any way we can.  Give monetarily.  Give  our service.  Give things.  Give our time.  He threw out a bunch of different suggestions, but only one stuck in my mind and I knew God was working on me.

"Show up at a nursing home and just hang out and talk with the residents.  They often get few visitors and little stimulation and even if they are in a great home, it's not their home and they long to connect with people."

This was the first suggestion I'd heard of that offered a way to minister with my son, instead of while my son was with a babysitter.  In fact, this was the first suggestion I'd heard in which my son would be the primary source of light and joy and enjoyment.  I mean, have you heard a two-year-old giggle!?  I knew immediately that it was a perfect fit.

Um, except that it was so far out of my comfort zone that I put it off for two weeks, and almost drove away when I finally had pulled our minivan up to the front door.  I'm not kidding.  I felt completely ridiculous, but I had to pep-talk my way through getting us dressed and out the door.  Then I had to pep-talk my way through walking us up the front walk of the assisted living home just six miles from my house. I even called from the car, just to make sure I wasn't walking into the wrong place.  Ahem.  Or something.

Rrrrrrring. 


"Dr.'s Touch Assisted Living.  This is April.  How may I help you?"

"Uh...  Is this an assisted living home?"

"Yes, dummy, that's what I just said. Yes, ma'am, it is."

"Oh, um, okay.  Well... my son and I would like to visit with your residents and hang out with them for a bit.  He's two and a half.  Would that be a blessing to them?"  Please say no.  Please say no.  


"Yes, sure.  Come on in."

"Okay.  ......See you in a minute."

Good grief, Lord, I'm a chicken.


We walked in.  The residents were eager to see who we were.  I was introduced to Bob and Jim.  We sat.  I said, "hello."  I really had no idea what to do or say, so I talked to Danny.

Then Chris came up the stairs.  She made a bee-line for us and introduced herself with a smile.  We joined her at the table and spent the next hour talking off and on and watching Danny play with his cars and the pieces of a Boggle game.  I learned about Chris's family and where they live.  I told Chris the Footprints story, since she had a bracelet that her daughter had given her with footprints and the phrase, "It was then that I carried you," on it.  Sometimes we didn't talk at all, and later I learned that's totally okay.  Another woman who is 99 years old came up the stairs and introduced herself and told us how terrible the news is these days.  Chris was disappointed at lasagna for lunch so I offered to eat hers for her.  She asked for my card and before I left, we agreed that next Monday we'll play checkers.

And then an extra gift:  The manager of the home arrived and introduced himself.  He played and joked with Danny until he was in a fit of laughter and he thanked us for coming.  He offered praise, encouragement, and suggestions on what we could do while we're there, and how to interact with the residents who are less responsive.

"When can you come again?" he asked.

"Every Monday," I said, with a breath.

"That's wonderful!!" he said.  And in that answer, I had all the encouragement I needed to come back.  I hugged Chris goodbye, and headed out with a smile.

WAY out of my comfort zone is sometimes the best place to be.  I can't wait until next Monday.

On All of LIfe's Highways...

...Drive Without Reservation.

Have a fantastic day today,

A New Day

Five a.m. on a Saturday morning and I can't sleep, so tippy-toe I go, down the stairs, in stealth-mode so as not to disturb the two men in my life.  I feel like I'm coming out of a fog, or coming up for air after a long time under water.  December has been a rough month for us, and I've not had words to write.  I've battled to find joy and while I truly have loved (I always do) this season of lights and Christmas music and gifts and friends and fun, it's been a tougher December than most.

We have all been sick (two of us twice).  And not just runny-nose sick.  Whole-body-achy-needing-antibiotics-really-should've-just-stayed-in-bed-can't-function-sick.  This doesn't bode well for a household of the self-employed..  We don't have sick days or paid vacation.  If ya' don't work, ya' don't get paid.  It's even less fun when you can't call Grandma to come over and hang out with Danny because I can hardly drag myself downstairs to fix breakfast.  And work has been slow on top of that.

I don't know why this is all hard to admit.  As though we've somehow done something wrong.  But it is.

And the other half of my struggle to find joy is our collective home-sickness.  I told my family on several accounts that I have desperately wanted to be in three places simultaneously this Christmas.  Here we are home.  Colorado and cold and not nearly enough snow and our church are where our hearts live.  Yet in San Diego my sister is preparing to get married and there are dresses to buy and parties to plan and moments that sisters are meant to share and I wish I were closer to share them.  Families are gathering and a baby niece was born and another is on the way, and I've missed the gatherings and eating together.  In Costa Rica, another niece is walking and talking and zillions of cousins have married and are having children and my heart longs to laugh and love fully in another language.  Three places I long to be.  All at once.

So I've been in a fog.  Wanting to enjoy the season.  Wanting to give of my time and my resources and wanting to stretch out to others and write and share memories and pictures and create good traditions for our son who is two and a half and talking like there's no tomorrow.  Surely I've done some of that.  But certainly I've spent much more time than I wanted trying to get well - as though I could do that and God were not already working on it - and trying to catch up on work time lost and wishing I were spending my time differently than I am.

But today is a new day.  As the Lord spoke to me as I crept down the stairs - this is entering into a new season.  There is indeed more to do than ever, and with the close of Christmas and the beginning of a new year, God has miraculously provided, our work schedules are once again full and we are healthy and well.  (It occurs to me that this is only the second time in a year and a half that Alejandro has experienced a lull in work and I am extremely thankful for that.)  We have never lacked for anything we need and God grows faith in our hearts as He teaches us to trust in His provision.

There have been many good memories, and loads of great pictures to share.  I am looking forward to the creative process of sharing those with you.  I love new beginnings.  I love breaks and vacations and a rest from work, but I love just as much the getting-back-to-routine and schedule and the daily Kingdom work set before me.  Alejandro has joined me on the couch and I hear my other little man stirring upstairs.  So I think it's time to enjoy early morning breakfast and snuggles and playing Angry Birds and Blast Monkey on our phones together.  This is, after all, the important stuff.

Happy New Year everybody.  Here's to fresh starts.

Love,

Obsession

Between the windstorm going on outside and the heart-storm going on inside, sleep is proving elusive tonight.

He has been speaking to my heart about His children.  I struggle much and often with materialism, yet recently, God's words of Grace have reminded me of so many out there who have so little and need so much spiritually.  While I am filled to overflowing, both materially and spiritually, children want and helpless mothers ache.  I get caught up in the entitled American dream game and find myself discontent with more than some will ever have.  Meanwhile, others sleep on dirt floors attempting to ignore hunger pains.

Who am I that I should have so much?

"The more He uses me in the lives of others... the more I share His wisdom... 

the more I understand how very little I understand about His great and mysterious ways.  

Me wretched.  Him magnificient.  Me He works through."

Wretched.  It's not a self-piteous statement.  It's a comparative statement.

After the company Alejandro worked for went under last year, and we struggled to pay bills, I wondered why God didn't bless us with more.  My plea for answers was met with silence.  But recently, an answer came.

Now you know how to live on less.  

Which means you can give more.

I've started to dream differently.  I've started to think about how much we could give away if we had more to give.  I've started to imagine using increased resources, not for new luxuries, but to spread His love to the most hurting.  It is starting to feel less like contemplating sacrifice and more like a deep longing in my heart.  

Do you love me?  

Feed my sheep. 

How I long to.  How I long to take you all with me.  To meet needs.  To hold hands.  To give bread.  To give Life.  To do so as His Church together.  To See more and deeper.  Into hearts and into Him. To shed Light.

Not so that they or you would look at me, but so that they and you would look at Him.  Deeper.  Longer.  Truer.  Sometimes for the first time.  

Do you know this all-consuming, gripping, obsessive, enveloping Love that keeps you awake at night?  

Come to me, you who are weary and heavy-burdened and you will find rest for your souls.

Be still.  KNOW - on a heart level - that I am God.

I have come so that the captives may be set free.  

So that the poor may be rich and blind may See.

Invite in the Greatest Lover of all time.  Catch the obsession. 

Why I Think Kids' Sports Should Involve A Scoreboard

I have been trying to articulate this same opinion for years, but my pastor did it better, so ya'll should just read what he wrote. I could not have put it better myself.

Paychecks of the Heart

It has been one of those days.  I'll spare you the details but it was truly ridiculous.  I couldn't have made up the stuff from today if I'd tried.

So, instead I'm going to focus on something much more fun, and that is the beginning of a series called Paychecks of the Heart.  It's not going to be a regular series.  I've learned my lesson.  I know better than to try to commit to that.  Just a whenever-I-feel-like-posting sort of series.

The very top leaders in my company wrote a book in honor of Mary Kay Ash entitled "Paychecks of the Heart."  It is full of stories from National Sales Directors about the non-monetary rewards that they've experienced in building their businesses.  The back of the book has several empty pages waiting for the owner of the book to fill in her own story.

I've got lots of them, and I haven't been writing them down, so I figured this was a good place to put them.  There have been lots of times in my business when I have had the thought, "If nothing else came out of this business but this one thing, it all would've been worth it."

Beth's story was definitely one of those paychecks of the heart.

Another one came to me two weekends ago at our Spring Career Conference.  Conferences are always a time of great fun and reunion, as I see lots of girlfriends I haven't seen for a long time.  I always get squeezes from behind, only to turn around and squeal at whoever gave it to me in surprise and delight of a reunion.

Stacie was one of those.  She came up to me and tugged on my hand and said, "hello!" with great enthusiasm!  I hugged her back and we started catching up.  Then, just before she left, she said, "I wanted to thank you.  You don't know this, but last year at our meeting, when you talked about God so openly, you got me thinking about God and church.  I started going back to church because of you and now our family is doing really well."

My mouth gaped open and I insisted on a picture with her.  God is so amazing.  It has not always been easy for me to speak easily and openly about God to strangers.  Stories like this make me so glad that I've chosen to swallow my fear and say what's on my heart anyway.

Stephanie lit up my evening the other night the same way.  I haven't seen her in years.  Literally.  She and I carpooled to a conference 3 or more years ago together and on the way home we talked a lot about her hurt, her medical struggles, her anger, and letting God in.  I don't remember saying anything really profound.  I just listened and I think I tried to encourage her to talk to the Lord and open her heart to Him. She was in the military and headed off to another state so I didn't hear from her again until just the other night.  Stephanie has returned to Colorado Springs and she came up to me and hugged me and we started catching up.

She was glowing!  She's expecting her first baby and she gave her life to Jesus a little while ago.  The visible difference in her countenance is tremendous.  She let me know that the conversation we had in the car on the way home really had an impact on her.

When I started this business six years ago, never in a million years did I dream of having the impact I've been able to have on women.  I hardly had the courage to stand before a group of 5 women and teach them how to wash their face, let alone speak about God openly to women who aren't expecting to hear about Him.  It just goes to show ya', practice really does make perfect.

I practice.  He makes it perfect.

My Commitment as a Woman of Excellence

I am a part of the fellowship of excellence.

I have stepped over the line.

The decision has been made.

I won’t give up, shut up, or let up,

until I have stayed up, stored up, paid up and prayed up.

Slow down, back away or be still.

My past is redeemed.

My present makes sense.

My future is secure.

I am finished, done with a low living,

colorless dreams, small vision

cheap living and dwarf goals.

I now live by faith,

lean on His presence,

labor by power,

and live by prayer.

I cannot be bought,

compromised, detoured,

lured away, turned back, deluded or delayed.

I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice,

hesitate in the presence of fear,

negotiate at the table of the enemy,

or meander in the maze of mediocrity.

From this day forward,

my banner will be clear.

When you see me,

you will see a woman of excellence.

                                                                              - Author Unknown

Living Out Loud

I Want To Open My Mouth. But How?

Since I posted about Beth the other night, I've been asked several times how I manage to get into such great conversations and get to the heart of an issue.  I think this is worth writing about, because I wondered the same thing not long ago.  Well, here's the answer, but be warned, it takes commitment and investment of yourself.

First, I read scripture daily.  Okay, I try to read scripture daily.  I mean, let's be honest.  I am so very human.  But the point is that I yearn to know Him deeper daily and getting in His Word is important to me.

Second, I surround myself with people who encourage me to share Christ with others and who praise me when I stretch toward my goals and dreams.  My friends, colleagues and family are all very much behind me in what I do.  This builds my confidence, which is a huge factor when the enemy would throw my fear in my face to keep me paralyzed.

Third, I started saying to the women who come into my life:  "I am committed to praying for my team members regularly, so I want you to know I am praying for you.  But I'd like to know if there is anything specific or hidden in your heart that you'd like me to pray about."  Then I just listen.  When someone shares a bit of something with me, I often ask more, or I simply say, "Tell me more about that."  Those five words will take a conversation a long way and women yearn to open their hearts and have someone truly listen.

Another thing:  I have started to pray regularly that God would help me to see my people and know their needs.  I am amazed at how my eyes have been opened when I pray this.

Lastly, in the midst of the conversation, I keep praying that the Holy Spirit guides my words.  There are times when God puts a thought in my head that I feel compelled to share and other times when He says, "Be quiet."  That happened a few times with Beth, when she just needed to process and hear Him.

Learning to hear the Lord's voice and follow His guiding is a spiritual discipline, and like other disciplines, it can (and must) be learned.  If you don't know how to hear His voice, think back to a time when you know God was speaking to you.  Think about what He was saying.  Sometimes He speaks through events, other peoples' words, or thoughts He places in your mind.  If you can think back to that time and remember what it felt like to hear His words, then you can keep looking and listening for more experiences like that.  Pray and ask the Lord to help you hear Him and clearly know when He is speaking to you.  Then when you think you hear Him, search the scriptures and make sure that what He is saying doesn't contradict his written Word.  If it does, it was not His voice you heard.

To many of you, this is basic stuff.  To others, it's new.  You (like me 3 or 4 years ago) have never been taught these basic disciplines.  The great news is that it's never to late to learn and an old dog can learn new tricks.

And now...  I'm off to count to eleven with my son.

I Live in a Hole

It's a self-induced hole.

We don't pay for TV. I don't listen to secular radio. I don't listen to the news... seriously. If something major like a tsunami happens, I hear about it through the grapevine. (And I always hear about it.) I usually change the radio station if advertisements come on that sound particularly full of the world.

That's usually all of them.

The other day my sister referred to a Justin Bieber movie and I didn't even know who that was.

I won't even read the particularly negative people on Facebook. That "hide" feature is handy.

Why the living-in-a-hole routine? Well, because just as what does up must come down, what goes in is bound to come out. If I'm reading, watching, listening to, and taking in the world, that's what's going to come out of my mouth. I have no desire to become so accustomed to the commercialized sex, the pervading materialism, and all else found in today's media, that it doesn't affect me.

I WANT it to affect me. I want it to seem crass if it is. I want a red flag to go off in my mind when the TV car salesman tells me I can't live without the next new Jeep model. I want to feel awkward when a barely dressed lingerie model flashes across the screen on a commercial break. If it doesn't feel out of place, I've become too comfortable. I'm called to be IN this world, not OF it.

That includes negativity. I just don't need the doom-and-gloom. It does not serve me nor my God-given purpose.

I don't think that this concept of guarding against media mental infiltration is new to most of you.  Actually, I share these thoughts because two days ago this thought process was challenged.

I have a family member who is a high ranking officer in the military and who is privy to a lot of information that the American public is kept from knowing. Not that he was sharing any information he shouldn't, but he DID call our attention to the direction that our current Presidential Administration is taking our nation and the danger that presents. I'll save my political opinions for another post. That's not my purpose right now.

This conversation challenged me because, while I still hold to the opinion that we ought to carefully filter what goes in, this presents a serious problem: I am completely unaware of what is happening politically in our world, and therefore, incapable of being an active participant and voice on any political scene, and THAT IS NOT OKAY WITH ME.

When I wrote this post earlier this month, in which I referenced people who don't even know the names of our House of Representatives, well, I was preaching to myself.

How does one filter what goes in, with regards to negativity, worldliness, and liberal politically skewed news reports, but at the same time remain informed and involved?  I'm aware that there are certain websites and newscasters that present a more balanced view of the political facts.  I'm also aware of the fact that it will take sacrifice and time to become informed and involved.  I'm certain I don't have all the answers yet, but I do know that it's important, and it's an issue I'm exploring and if you have any insight, I'm all ears.

Living Big - a life theme of mine - is not just about living big in the areas I like or am comfortable in. It means reaching into ALL areas of life and doing what is not always easy, comfortable or convenient.

Thanks for reading and commenting tonight.  More on this to come...

Full

From the moment I found out I had a baby growing inside, I began to pray one prayer and I haven't stopped praying since.

"Lord, let this baby have a heart for You.  Teach him to hear your voice and perceive your presence and give him your Holy Spirit from an early age."

I've been pretty convinced my prayer was answered before tonight, but this evening at church when he raised his little hand and praised Jesus at church, I became even more certain.  I know that he will have a conversion experience some day.  I know that there will be a day when he decides to give his heart to God and a line will be drawn in the sand separating "before" and "after."  But this little one already loves to praise his Lord.

Tonight I went to the Mill for church.  I was craving it.  I dropped Danny off at Kids' Life (our church's childcare) where I deposited him into the eager arms of a woman who recognized him by name and declared him to be "the perfect baby".  Ha!  She wasn't around for dinner tonight.

Anyway, I went over to church and drank it in.  Our church has a gift for worship through music and I lost myself in the Holy Presence that filled the room and drowned out everything else.  It was so rich that when church ended, the worship band kept playing and half of the congregation stayed to keep singing.  I slipped out to go get my little bundle of energy, hopeful that he would still have some of that energy left to come back and enjoy the music for a bit more.

Boy did he ever.  As  we walked back in, he became quiet and observant.  His wide eyes looked all around at the multitude of men and women praising Jesus.  As we approached our seats (which we didn't bother to sit in), it was as though he felt the holy moment and he reacted immediately.

He reached out an open hand to the air.

He wasn't signing please or all done.  He wasn't reaching for something.  He didn't make a sound.  He wasn't waving or pointing.  He was praising Jesus with his little hand open to the air, honoring the King he was before.  And then promptly, despite everyone else standing, his mommy looking at him, the loud music playing and eyes open all around him, he folded his hands and bowed his head to pray.

The lump filled my throat.

In the next minutes, he raised his hand more.  He sang.  He asked for milk and his pacifier.  He wanted down and then up and then down again, but through it all, he remained reverent. He signed music and bounced and then raised his hand again.  It was like he was just taking it in.  I prayed over him and worshiped with him while I observed what child-like faith looks like.

After about ten minutes, his little one-and-a-half-year-old body reminded him it was way past his bedtime and he started to fuss like the Danny I know when he's cranky and tired.  I grabbed his cup that he dropped. Then the pacifier that he threw.  Then the cup that landed on the floor again.  Finally I grabbed our coats and we headed out to go home.

That transition, from awe and praise to tired and cranky, just helped me see a little more clearly that I was not mistaken or blind in my mommy-hopefulness.  Rather, my son saw the King of Kings tonight, and I couldn't be more full.

No Complaining

I am on overload.  I have simply hit my limit on the number of things my brain can process today.

This week I have done really well.  I called a friend last night and she said I was totally hyper and really "up."  She was right.  I totally was!  And I am still content.  Just fried.  I truly LOVE working.  I realize some of you are gagging in your mouths every time I post something about how much I love what I do, but I am just so thankful for it and I wish everyone could experience it.  I think it's how God designed life to be.  For us to truly LOVE what we do.

Alejandro sent me this picture of himself yesterday.

Wait, wait...  Here you go.  

Yeah.  So, now you know he's actually painting.  :)  

And since I'm on overload... I'll share a post I started the other night and never actually put up:  

No Complaining

I was listening to the Mary Kay Hotline yesterday (a motivational phone recording changed daily) and my business mentor was talking about the idea of complaining. She is reading, "The Success Principles," by Jack Canfield (someone who definitely lives big) and one particular section of the book talked about how we only complain about what we have the power of changing. He drove the point home with the example of gravity. No one complains about gravity because there's nothing we can do about changing it. His point was that we should never complain because anything we might be complaining about is something within our power to do something about. Even if the only thing we choose to do is change our attitude.

I was thinking about this, and I think that from the perspective of someone who knows Christ, there are two situations we complain about. (1) There is the situation we either have no control over, such as the death of a family member, a health condition, or financial loss of a job due to the economy, etc. I think these are situations we are dealt and which we experience because we live in a fallen world and which God most definitely WILL work through in our lives. If we operate under the understanding that God is in control, that He holds us in His hands and that nothing and no one can separate us from His love, then there is no reason to complain. Indeed, to complain is to say, "God I reject this situation that you have allowed me to be in for the shaping of my spirit." It is a rejection of His perfect will for our lives.

I'll be the first to admit that many situations He has chosen to work through in my life were NOT what I would have chosen, but in hind-sight I can see the way He wove His perfect plan for my life through that situation and even used it to build His Kingdom in the after-math. This separation due to my husband's work is a prime example.

(2) Then there are situations that we complain about that we have every ability in the world to change, but we choose not to. An example is someone who complains about living paycheck to paycheck but who won't go out and get another job. They may even have a noble reason for not wanting to work, like being a stay-at-home mom, but if this is the case, they still have no right to complain. It is their choice, and they wish to stay in that situation. Another example is someone who complains about being in an unhappy marriage. They whine and whine, but they won't leave, nor will they do the work to improve their marriage. (I am not for leaving marriages for any reason other than those stipulated in the Bible, but that gives us no right to complain about the calling God has given us in our marriages. And yes, your spouse IS your calling.)

Now I'll be the first to admit that I'm a complainer. I've even complained on this blog from time to time. (No, really?!) That's why this principle of Mr. Canfield's convicted me so much.  Either change my attitude or change my actions.  But either way, zip it.  No more complaining.

And ya'll can hold me to that the next time I whine on this blog.  ;-)

Freedom

This post has been composing itself in my mind for the past few days and I think if I don't write it down it might not get written.  Plus, I'm afraid that anyone new here might look at my Christmas post and get scared away forever.  I promise, my posts are never that long. 

Anyway, back to freedom. 

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery. (Galations 5:1)

So often as Christians, I think we allow ourselves to be bogged down in slavery over the tiniest things without even realizing it.  Freedom from this type of mental or emotional slavery has been a theme in the conversations between my mentor and I for the last several months.  Galations 5:1 is in my bathroom shower and every day I'm reminded of a new way it applies to me. 

As hot water runs down my back the Enemy would try to whisper words in my mind of past failures and mistakes.  It is for freedom Christ has set me free.  My past is over and done.  It has no power over me.  I can begin to be free in this moment, living new thoughts and actions today by the power of the Holy Spirit.  I am clean and forgiven, fully healed, free by the blood of the Lamb. 

I stare at my to-do list that is longer than any one human could complete in a whole week and begin to feel overwhelmed by the impossibility of it all.  It is for freedom Christ calls me to follow Him.  It is only what He calls me to that I am asked to complete each day.  Consistency and peace in my home are achieved by the simple choice of the right activities today.  The rest may fall by the wayside and I am free to release them, knowing that I was never meant to be in bondage to an impossible list. 

A stranger's thoughtless political comment about people who choose this course of action or that when faced with financial crisis send me reeling in anger and muddling in self-righteous stress about my own choices.  It is for freedom Christ died for us.  The only person's approval who I need is my Lord Jesus Christ and I already have it.  I need not concern myself with other peoples' ill-informed and poorly directed opinions.

My husband's innocent, but impatient comment leaves me feeling alone and insulted and everything I've learned about giving him the benefit of the doubt flies out my right ear as the desire to rant and rave penetrates my heart.  It is for freedom Christ came into my life.  The only reason a situation might emotionally control me is if I allow it to.  I have the freedom to choose my reaction to respond in kind or to let the issue rest.  I can decide to be right or I can decide to be at peace, knowing he probably didn't mean it anyway, but either way, it is my choice. 

The illustrations are endless and the triviality of many of the examples are ridiculous.  Yet, the incredible peace that comes with the realization that it is for freedom that Christ came to Earth, died for us, and set us free, is more far-reaching than any of us will realize in this life time. I am convinced that when I get to heaven, I'm going to look back at my life and just marvel at all the times I got my undies all up in a bunch over something Christ died to set me free from two thousand years ago.  It sort of relates to my post about frogs. 

In simpler words, it's just not worth the worry.  There are greater battles to fight - ones that are really worthy of our energy.  There are bigger causes to get behind.  There are more important ways to spend our energy.  And we are just more powerful than that.**

Is there an area of your life or your thoughts that you are enslaved to?  Ask Him to reveal to you the Truth of the matter and to set you free. 

Do you feel like your whole life is wrapped up in bondage and the whole God-thing sounds just like more of that?  Oh, my friend, how I wish for you to taste and know the freedom that I have.  Ask Him to show you what that looks and feels like.  He is a gentleman.  He'll never force your hand.  He is loving and gracious and He longs for the opportunity to show you Truth that will Set. You. Free. 


With Love and Hope,



**By this, I mean that those of us who know Christ possess within us the power of the Creator of the Earth to be conquerers of our thoughts and emotions. 

In Which I Ramble About My Bathroom

Everyone needs a sanctuary.  Mind just happens to double as my bathroom. 

I was thinking today about the fact that my bathroom is the place where I feel the safest.  It's where the Enemy least threatens me.  It's where I feel the most relaxed - well, aside from my bed, that is.  It's where I have the most confidence and feel the most beautiful.  It's where I feel closest to God. 

Granted, all of those are feelings, and I believe strongly in not putting too much stock in those.  But even so, they are important and are reflective of my heart-attitude. 

But back to the point.  I think my bathroom is my sanctuary my sanctuary is my bathroom because I have made it so.  If you were to walk into my bathroom, you would see a mess.  Then you would see the words, pieces of truth, and scripture that I cling to and focus on daily.  If you stood in my shower, you would see this. 

My shower curtain is clear (that was intentionally for this purpose) and all of those notes are taped to the outside facing in.  When I shower, I preach to myself.  I can preach a mean sermon in my shower.  I preach to myself and I pray and I talk to God and He talks to me. 

What goes in is what comes out.  Out of the heart, the mouth speaks.  And vice versa (Out of the mouth, the heart speaks).  When I speak truth out loud in the Spirit of the Lord, my mind believes it and my heart strings are attached to it and it stays with me through the day, when I can then pour it out to others.  That's also why I do NOT say things like, "I'm so dumb."  I would never say that to my son and my Heavenly Father would not say that to me and so I won't either.  And I definitely don't want to be pouring that out to others.

After I speak truth out loud in the shower, I listen to truth as I get dressed (I listen to a daily devotional).  I have more notes and words of encouragement to myself on my mirror and as I prepare my body for the day, I prepare my heart too.  This is because I have learned that I'm just not very strong and if I don't pray myself somethin' mighty, well, I might as well be planning to fall flat on my face. 

But back to what I was saying in the beginning...  I think the reason I feel safe, closest to God, confident and beautiful in the bathroom, is because that room has been filled with Truth to the hilt and there isn't any room for the Enemy's lies. 

I'm sort of getting the itch to do that to someone else's room.  A little someone else with miniature clothing and a child-proof room.  (I'll be sure to fill you in when that little inspiration comes to fruition.) 

So, where's your sanctuary?  Do you have one?  Can you make one?  I started with one or two notes and it went from there.  This post is a lot of random thoughts sort of all shoved together in a poorly organized fashion, but I think I'm going to leave it that way.  It's just sort of how I'm feeling tonight.  God is working a lot on my heart in these days, and so I am feeling broken and fragile and especially thankful for a sanctuary in which I can rest in His gracious love.  That is all.

Goodnight,

Bike Ride

Ya'll are lucky (ahem) that I'm still writing, because yesterday I almost died.

If you haven't noticed already, Alejandro and I like to play harder than we work. And we work pretty hard. Give us a kid-free weekend and it's all over. We're bound to go get ourselves killed.

Yesterday we decided to go biking. We picked a kill-you-cuz-it's-hard (that's my translation of "moderate") trail that's 8.5 miles long with a 1000 foot altitude gain. The trail head is at 9,000 plus feet, so we were goners from the beginning. But then we got lost, so it was probably more like 10 miles and 1500 foot altitude gain.

This is me, feigning a smile as I huff my way up the hill.

 
And this is me holding my bike up my bike holding me up. 

Somewhere up in elk-hunting territory, after walking our bikes 500 feet because our lungs were exploding, we happened upon a hunter. He was a kind old man with white hair, camoflage, a bright orange vest and hat, and beer breath that would chase off any elk within 5 miles. He explained that we were up at the top of a dead-end road and needed to turn around.

I almost killed something right then.

Fortunately, the way back was all down hill, but I was not excited about the fact that we were lost in the middle of no where and the sun was descending behind the clouds. Then I remembered the technological marvel of my Blackberry and its GPS. Comfort came my way when I could check every 5 minutes to see that we were indeed getting closer to the highway (and therefore the parking lot where our Jeep was parked).

And then once we knew where we were again, it got REALLY fun! Because right about then, we hit a downhill, single-track, really technical trail. Those are my absolute favorite. (For all you non-mountain-bikers, that means a 3-foot-wide trail with lots of rocks, tree roots and such to maneuver over and around.) For me, the entire point of mountain-biking is going OVER stuff, and if I can do that going downhill (aka without any exertion on my part) it's even better!

This is your friendly Mary Kay beauty consultant shooting a snot-rocket.  It was just so funny that Alejandro caught it on camera that I couldn't resist posting it!

We had stopped in the middle of the down-hill single-track to take pictures of the amazing scenery.  

Our digital point-and-shoot definitely doesn't do it justice. 

This is looking down on Keystone (a ski resort).

This is my hottie of a husband. 

The very best part of the whole ride, though, was when we reached the very bottom.  We had rounded our 3rd or 4th switch-back and the parking lot was in sight.  I was zooming over some tree roots and around some rocks and feeling victorious about having survived the afternoon.  A crowd of people shouting woohoo at the bottom would've been perfect.  So I settled for my own cheer and shouted at the top of my lungs...

WOOOOOOOOOO-HOOOOOOO!!!!

Then, to my surprise, a group of eight or ten campers off to my right (that I hadn't noticed) joined in and shouted back,

WOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOO!!

It was perfect!  I laughed the whole rest of the way to the Jeep!

And that is the story of our biking trip yesterday. 

Living and Hearing

The first week of September ended up being a doozy of a week for us. We had received our Jeep back with a new transmission. We spent two days driving halfway across the United States from San Diego to Colorado Springs, arriving at about 3 a.m. that Saturday morning. We attended a baby shower and a director promotion celebration for two really great friends of mine. We had been attempting to catch up on a month of mail, chores, house cleaning, and life in general. Monday morning at 2 a.m. I heard God's voice audibly for the first time. Yes, you read that right. I'll come back to that story in a minute. And one evening, we spent well over two hours on the phone with family in Costa Rica. A new crisis had hit.  Thankfully, it has been (for the most part) resolved since then.

So, it'd been a rather full week, to say the least. At least it's been a balance between really great things and bad stuff. But I never managed to post this story, and I really wanted to!

How are we doing? We're doing pretty well. Alejandro has officially quit job-searching (I don't remember if I'd shared that with you all) and he is devoting his energy to lining up handyman jobs rather than filling out applications. It's proving to be more successful and more profitable. Do you need anything fixed, painted, dry-walled, built, rebuilt, remodeled... etc? If so, he does a really great job! Yeah, I know I'm biased. But still, call him.

My business is doing very well and I'm really excited about the women God is putting in my path!  I am so blessed!

So, back to the hearing God's voice audibly story... that Monday night we went to bed in a bit of a tiff (ok fine) fight. Alejandro was downstairs cooling off, and I was in bed, praying and tweeting and reading blogs from my phone, which is a common way I wind down before bed. About 45 minutes after falling asleep, I had a "Samuel experience."

Samuel was lying down in the temple of the LORD, where the ark of God was. Then the LORD called Samuel.
Samuel answered, "Here I am." And he ran to Eli and said, "Here I am; you called me."
But Eli said, "I did not call; go back and lie down." So he went and lay down.
(See 1 Samuel 3:1-10)

I was laying there, asleep, and I awoke with a start when I heard (what sounded like) Alejandro's voice call, "Renee!" 

I sat up and called toward Alejandro, who had fallen asleep on the couch downstairs.  "Ale?!"

No answer.

"Was that you God?"

"What do you think?"

I got up and went downstairs.  "Ale, did you call me?"  He moaned and groaned and rolled over.  He was clearly not awake.  "Ale, did you call me!?" I said louder?  "No....." he mumbled. 

I went back to bed.  Another hour later, I woke up again, as if someone had shaken me, although I didn't feel anything.  I rolled back over, irritated that I couldn't sleep at 1 a.m. and I'd been woken up again. 

Another hour later, I woke up with a jump, as if someone had shoved me in the arm, although I still didn't feel anything.

"What?!" I said silently to God.

"GO down there and minister to your husband!!"

"Ugh, fine," I said. 

Yeah, I tend to argue with God.  It's not really something I'd recommend you do.  But at least I know I have authentic conversation with Him.  My prayers are defnitely  not filled with thees and thous and all that.  I talk to him like I talk on this blog. 

I went downstairs, and sat down next to Alejandro with my hand on his shoulder.  He had had a nightmare, and we spent the next hour or so in one of the deepest, most vulnerable conversations we've had in our almost-seven years of marriage. 

I'm really glad I listened to God in those wee morning hours. 

And a really humbled and awed that He'd call me by name and let me hear it. 

The experience was a deeply impacting one.  Yet not totally life-altering, as one might think.  It's like there is a quiet surety in my soul that brings peace beyond what is reasonable and a deeply rooted confidence (despite the fact that some of you now think I am completely whacky).  Do you know that God is alive?  Do you know that He still speaks?  If not, that is my prayer for you tonight. 

Love,

Enough

Alternately titled:  An easy post to write.  A hard post to publish. 

For a very long time, I've believed a lie. The lie is that I'm not enough. That I don't do enough, don't work hard enough, don't achieve enough, and am not good enough.

Maybe it´s a first child syndrome. Maybe it's the home I grew up in. Maybe it's a bajillion other things, but it is the lie that the enemy grabbed a hold of and saw how I clung to it and ran from it and was utterly afraid of it. Afraid of never being enough. I have tried to run faster and dance harder as long as I can remember.

So the enemy cultivated this in my heart by whispering doubt and condemnation to me from when I was young. I'm not exactly sure when it started, but I remember being in sixth grade and struggling with math for the first time (which is actually one of my areas of talent and therefore pride). I was making silly careless mistakes that had nothing to do with the alegra I was doing for the first time, but which were addition, subtraction and multiplication mistakes. I was getting a C or a C- or something. In any case, I was ashamed. And I felt that I wasn't good enough. Wasn't trying hard enough. Wasn't achieving enough.

Eventually I did figure out the algebra and I got pretty good at it. But the nagging "not enough" spirit manifested itself in different ways. It drove me to good grades. It drove me to graduation with honors. It drove me to college scholarships and graduation and a job. And when I started my own business, the "not enough" spirit grabbed a hold in a fresh strong new way.

Let me caveat for a moment and say that there is certainly nothing wrong with good grades, graduation with honors, scholarships, good jobs or achievement. And I did do all of those things for many of the right reasons and with positive support and motivation from my parents. It just happened to be the tool that the enemy used in my life to get under my skin and keep me from God's purpose for the last several years.

Mom and Dad, you were WONDERFUL parents who raised us with a strong work ethic and the belief that we can do anything we set our minds to. My struggle with "not enough" has nothing to do with anything you did or did not do, but with my own character and struggle with flesh.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, I'd started my own business. In business, success is measurable. So is failure, and it is determined by your title, your awards, your rank, your paycheck, and your suit. My love of achievement and the spirit of "not enough" drove me to do very well in business. For a while.

For a while I did very well, until I realized that I was so afraid of NOT being enough that the "not enough" spirit began to overcome me and overwhelm me and paralyze me.  If you have ever struggled with feeling that you are never runing fast enough or dancing hard enough or being good enough, you know what I'm talking about. If you don't, well, count it your blessing and just skip this post.  As a result of my fear of not being enough, I began to fail. (Fear is often a self-fulfilling prophecy.) And when others questioned why I wasn't succeeding as before, that fear was seated deeper in my heart and though I answered with a smile and appeared confident as ever, paralysis took over like a cancer.

Then last month I had my first experience with healing prayer. Ironically enough, it was through my business that I met Heidi. Heidi is gentle, loving, filled with the Holy Spirit and has also struggled with the spirit of "not enough". We got to talking during her facial (because girls + face pampering = talking) and she offered to join me in healing prayer over this obsession with running harder and dancing faster. I couldn't jump on the opportunity fast enough and two days later we spent two hours in her back room praying, confessing, weeping, praising and hearing God together.

It. Was. Life Changing.

This is what God said...

"Renee, you have been believing the lie that you are not enough. You've believed that you don't deserve success in your business. The truth is that my Kingdom is not about success or achievements. I don't care about position or status. I don't care about C minuses or A pluses. I don't care about paychecks or cars or prestige or recognition (unless it's recognition of Me) and I don't care about how far up the career path you are. I don't care about any of those things.

All I care is that you are carrying out my call on your life and my call is for you to love other women the way I have loved you. Measure your success, Renee, not by this world's labels but by the amount you have poured into others for my Name. You will know you are being successful when you are loving someone else and serving them. You know you have accomplished your goal when you draw others to Me. I am your approval and your reward.

Achievment of a position of leadership comes out of the overflow of loving others for Me. Not because I care about the position, but because I care about the influence you will have IN that position and the opportunity it gives you to share my Light into others' lives.

Renee you have been believing the lie that you are an overachiever.

Renee, the TRUTH, is that you are MY ACHIEVEMENT."

That day drew a line in the sand for me. I have been miraculously free from preocupation with status and able to fully direct my angst energy at the task of achieving God's will for my life and my talents, rather than at avoiding my perception of failure.

I hope this speaks to someone today. I know there are others who are paralyzed by the spirit of "not enough." I pray that God reveals to you in a new way that...

YOU ARE GOD'S ACHIEVEMENT.

Love,

Proud Mama Daughter

I absolutely love it when someone stretches themself to reach for a dream or a goal that God has laid on their heart.  It's probably the teacher in me.

These last several months I've had the privilege of walking alongside my Mom in a journey as she envisioned, developed, planned, strategized and finally birthed a dream that God planted in her heart.  My Mom is a retired high school teacher.  Her strongest subject is math, but she taught everything, including how to perservere, how to believe in oneself, how to think and how to learn.  She and her partner ran a high school tutoring program for at-risk students in the inner city of San Diego for decades.  It successfully helped countless students avoid failure and drop-out.  I can't even count the number of times I've heard of a student whose academic career was turned around because of my Mom and her partner's elective tutoring class.

When her program was eliminated due to budget cuts, Morse High School lost one of the best things it had going for it.  When she retired, my Mom searched for a way to re-birth this program by starting her own non-profit organization.

I have absolutely LOVED watching her get excited, formulate ideas and ways to get around obstacles, step out of her comfort zone to approach parents, teachers, school adminstrators, and district officials.  She even when door to door!  I almost fell off my chair when she told me she had done that!

It's been a small start, but I am so proud to introduce to you...

...and the lady who got it started...

I encourage you to check out twowaystreettutoring.org. It's called TwoWayStreet because, as my Mom says, "Abundant living is a two-way street. You give, you receive. You serve, you are served. Both are important. Two Way Street offers academic support to teens, and encourages teens to give service to their community."

Isn't that COOL?!

Do you know a teenager in the San Diego area?  Do you know a parent of a teenager in the San Diego area?  Do you know anyone in the San Diego area?  Please let them know about TwoWayStreet.  And please keep them in your prayers.  The program will, of course, only work with the involvement of students. They are re-launching in the fall and hope to draw many students in.

Thanks, Mom, for the example you set for me.  Thanks for teaching me that I can if I try.  Thanks, on behalf of all the students who never said "thanks" to you.  I know this is just the beginning of a really great thing!

Breakfast Chat

As Danny and I sit with our breakfast I thought I'd start typing between spoonfulls. This is always when I'm composing in my mind and if I don't just write it down I'll lose it. Danny just finished his melon and has moved onto cheerios and I'm sipping on a banana flax shake while we look out the window and watch snow fall from the sky on this May 13th.

Yes, snow. Isn't it funny how snow makes us happy in December and sad in May? Maybe I just need to flip my wall calendar to December, heat up some peppermint hot chocolate and put on Christmas music. Ok, I'm lying. I don't have a wall calendar. But you get the idea - it's a mental switch.

God hit it home to me last night and this morning how much of a CHOICE my attitude is. I think it's a fallacy BIG FAT LIE that we are told that we have no choice over our emotions and that we feel what we feel. We may feel what we feel but we also have the God given ability to root ourselves in truth, ground ourselves in love (Ephesians 3:17-19) and turn that frown upside down. Mary Kay Ash used to say (for those in business for themselves) that if you can control your emotions, you can control your paycheck.

Anyway, back to how God hit it home to me this morning. Today the stars aligned and all is well and so I am happy. Today I am enjoying a good mood and energy because I actually did several simple things that we all know help us but that we don't often put into place. Last night I organized my desk, prioritized my work and set a few things out for today so that I wouldn't be thinking all night long about what I needed to get done today. Then I actually - shocker of all shockers - WENT TO BED EARLY!

I know. Crazy.

And this morning I woke up easily after my full night of sleep and enjoyed a half hour in the Word under the cozy covers. (Thank you Jesus that Danny actually slept through the night too, after a two-week run of screams in the middle of the night due to teething. That top left tooth is gonna break through any moment.)

I realized this morning that my good mood is the result of two things. First, it's a result of my pre-decision decision. That's right. Our church youth group teaches our kids to make pre-decision decisions about certain things like drugs, sex, pornography and many other light and heavy issues. That is, they are taught to make a decision about what they will do LONG before they are faced with a choice of action. In essence, I did this last night as I prepared myself for bed. I put certain things into place with the determination that today is NOT going to go like yesterday did. I made the decision to have a great day long before the day hit.

Second, my good mood is the result of my in-the-moment decisions. When the alarm clock sounded, I grabbed my Bible rather than groaning and rolling over, even though that's what I felt like doing more. When the reading for today was about clean and unclean skin conditions - which just really grosses me out - I decided to be glad God cares about our skin cells as well as our hearts. When I saw the folded diapers in the hall, I decided to be joyful that my husband brought them up from downstairs rather than disappointed that I'd still have to put them away. When I saw the May snow I decided to pretend it was December! Ha! And when Danny gave me his first scowl of the morning, I smiled back and told him he could practice that scowl all he wanted but that today we are going to have a great day.

And then he broke into a huge toothy grin.

That's my boy!

Alejandro's mom emailed us yesterday with an update on Freddy (my father-in-law who has colon cancer) and a note about her determination to be positive. Freddy is still home - his release to home stuck this time. He is recovering and will start chemotherapy soon (I think this week). They are not doing a second colon surgery to remove more polyps because his weak body would not survive it. Fanny is concerned that this will cause metastesis of the polyps but has put her trust and faith in the Lord. She seems to be encouraged, and if nothing else, she too, has determined to be positive and strong through adversity.  I am so thankful for her Godly example as she walks through this trial. 

Well, that's it for now.  Have a wonderful day! 

Love,

Nap Time. And Faith Like a Child.

Children live every moment to the fullest. Have you ever noticed that? I think that's why they are so endearing to watch. There is a mesmerizing presence about them as they spend each minute fully present to their current activity, leaving all their cares and concerns for when they present themselves.

When Danny plays he focuses the entirety of his being on the ball he's rolling. He's completely delighted when he can make it bounce across the floor and when it's out of reach, nothing could stop him from the work needed to stretch out and get it. When he's eating, you'd think he were enjoying an award winning 5 star meal, instead of his mashed bananas and pureed spagetti. When his Papa picks him up, he is utterly delighted and envelops himself in his Daddy's strong arms. A hug is the only thing on his mind. And when it's time to sleep, he sleeps in total relaxation, with no worries about anything else. His body is totally limp and he rests peacefully.

I wish I were more like that. When I am playing, my mind is often on the work that is left undone. When I'm working, I get distracted by what we'll eat for dinner. When I'm with my husband, it's often a struggle not to concern myself with the family finances or my job as Mama. And when I try to sleep, all these other things are on my mind, keeping me from resting peacefully.

Granted I am an adult, with much more responsibility than my almost ten-month-old son. But somehow I have a feeling that Jesus lived with the same fully-present-to-the-moment concentration and passion that children do. I bet he was fascinating to watch for that reason. Maybe that's what he meant by, "Have faith like a child."

To a certain extent, systems and organization and planning help us to be present to the moment, for they help us to get things done and off of our mind. But I think mostly, living in a way that's fully present to the moment is a matter of intentionality and choice. And prayer. Mostly prayer.

Lord, teach me this child-like faith. Help me to give my cares and worries to you and to trust you for my every need. Thank you for the most incredible blessing of my son, who helps me to know you so much better. Give him sweet dreams as he rests. Amen.