a new name

i recently finished reading two books: hinds feet on high places, and it's follow up: mountains of spices.  the books are about a girl, "much afraid" and her choice to follow the Good Shepard to the Mountian of  Love.  the journey is full of dangerous trails and cliffs, impossible climbs, and long stretches that seem to take her further from the mountain top. the Good Shepard ask her to trust Him and the path He chose for her to get there. Her original state is described as "crippled" (totally not p.c., but this book was written a "long" time ago) as she had a crooked mouth and "deformed feet".   after her journey in the first book, her name is changed to "Grace and Glory".  read the books, seriously.  Hinds Feet first. then Mountains of Spices which tells the story of her returning to her home, "the valley of humiliation" to bare witness to her abusive and lost family (with names like Craven Fear, Gloomy, Dismal Forebodings...).

i think about the new names we receive when our lives become no longer about ourselves, when we look upward and not inward, when we seek His will opposed to our wants.  we go from "offense to joy", "anger to love", "pride to humbleness", and so on.  i thought of this during a casual conversation i had today with a coworker.  we were chatting about something, and i ended up telling a story about this time my husband and i were getting ready to go out and i put on one of my favorite dresses and leggings.  when he saw me he laughed and asked if that was what i was wearing, and i affirmed this.  he told me he thought it was a little short, that it's great for around the house, as he likes it, but he didn't think he'd be comfortable with me wearing this out in public. it was mid-thigh, and i honestly did not see what the issue was.  we went back and forth for a bit, and i never did agree that it was "short", but i ended up changing anyway because it was important to him, and my opinion didn't give him more comfort with the length (lack of) my dress. after telling this story to my coworker, she laughed and said that if that was her, she would have changed into something even shorter. i explained that i wasn't offended, and in marriage, you honor each other, and your body is not just yours anymore, but your partner's.  she insisted that she thought it was absurd that a man or anyone should be able to tell her what to do/wear/say, etc. i told her that i knew that i didn't have it all together, that i desired to surround myself with those who inspire me to be a better person.  i loved to have those who i am inspired by surrounding me, giving me thoughts and insights, helping me in those areas i need to grow in, helping me to see what is most glorifying, ultimately, to God. i humbly stated that i knew i wasn't the best person and that i wanted people to help me become better, more honoring, more loving.

there is so much that pride kills.  it not only cuts down, but it prevents growth, it prevents love from becoming the most prevalent feature of our lives. it tells us: who are they to tell you what to do?!  who is He to make you all stuffy and boring, who are they to lovingly correct and admonish you?  you be your own person!  you do what you want!  don't let them change you!  i want to be changed though. i want to be changed daily.

Pride is not a name He gives.  i have no need to defend myself because i am still being transformed, i am still going from glory to glory (2 corinthians 3:18), but mostly, because He is my defense. it seems foolish to those who do not know, who are perishing, but to those who know, those who have new names, it is the power of God (1 corinthians 1:18).  and we must speak love when others claim our foolishness.  how can we know the joy of having a new name, and yet not was so desperately for others to receive theirs?!

when we respond, it must always be in love, a sweet love in response to a poking joke, a jesting quip, even outright judgement. in what ever critical situation, what ever rejection, what ever discomfort or attack, rather real or perceived, if our response is one of love, when all other human logic tells us to strike back, argue, or return judgement for judgement, that is the hope of Christ in us.  this is our new name, our new name we wear like a badge on our hearts.  allowing yourself to be open for jest, judgement, for others to think you are crazy, this is the freedom that allows other to see a transformed heart implanted by our Creator Himself, it allows others to see that a life lived where the main focus is the One who wrote our stories and designed the skies is possible, but not only possible, but freeing. He can breath life into dirt, and He can change hearts and give new names.

keep your pinky promise to be open and listen to differing thoughts and opinions. it's not personal, it's love.

always remember the fun times, the dreams, the hopes.

the thief of joy

someone much wiser than me once said that comparison is the thief of joy.

i was quiet the miserable little girl.  while other girls had perfectly braided hair, mine was always frizzle-frazzle, other girls (in my perception) had perfectly straight teeth, and mine were gappy and crooked, and other little girls went home to their happy homes with a mom and dad, and i went home to an over-burdened single mother.

it's funny (in a sad way) how sad little girl issues can become insecure woman issues.  on june 28th, i had my first date with who would be "wonderful husband, he says he knew right away that he was going to marry me, i knew that he knew, and this brought me some sense of comfort, peace, confidence...i knew that this guy saw something in me that no guy before him had. i knew that this guy thought the qualities of my personality were those that he could merge his life with and grow with. he saw a beauty in me that he wanted to see every day for the rest of his life.  i can still question it, how and why, and i do, and i rob myself of joy.  i can say that there are other women who are easier to love than me, who don't fret like i do, whose hearts don't break as much as mine does...there's to much i can do, and that i do which steals the joy of our lives, my life.

i can look at other marriages, where they see each other for an hour in the morning, coffee in hands, together, and they spend hours in the evening together, over dinner, the pitter pat of little feet running through their home, or the laughter they share over the table together. the women walk upright with poise, they are light with concern, and void are the cry-lines from their forehead and eyes.  the husbands have light afternoons and walk into light homes with light air and freshness that can rejuvenate any spirit. or so i imagine.  i imagine this in contrast to my heavy heart that sometimes can only crumble into a heaping pile of concern for those i cannot reach and cannot help, i imagine this as i curl up in our bed, with tear-soaked eyes as the husband asks how he can help me, and i mutter out that he can't.

i imagine lots of scenarios for other couples, i imagine many non-existent marriages, and i create "spiritual barbie dolls" from those lovely ladies i see around me. i know it doesn't exist, and that in reality, there is some area, or many areas, in people's lives that are not how they imagined. we tell ourselves that everyone else is a better person, more gentle, wiser, spiritually stronger, and a better spouse.  i steal the joy and God's plan for my life by comparing it to others'.  we tell ourselves that everyone else is much more easily used by God, everyone else is much more easily loved by God.

we exist because God wanted to do something through us/with us that He didn't design and plan to do through someone else. when we/i compare ourselves to the make-believe lives of others, we incapacitate ourselves from being able joyfully walk in God's design for us. i know that God sees my end from beginning, that He sees His ultimate plan for me from where i am now.  my frets, tears, and heavy heart have not changed the husband's heart for me, just as my weakness and stumbles will not change God's heart for me. just like the husband knew from our first date i was the one he'd marry, God knew from my origin in the womb His plan for me.  as He does you, and the lady in front of us in the grocery store, and our co-worker, and so on.


i've found the best combatant for a heavy heart is to look around, there are others hurting all around us; to look around and serve, to focus on seeing others healed and made whole, in doing so, we redirect our eyes of ourself; we are our own biggest hindrance to His good works in our heart.

those around me and far away, those in need of service, or love, they can't wait for me to feel good about my self to reach out, they can't wait for me to feel like a barbie-christian to love them, to knock down walls for them.

the litter box made me do it

i love my fat cat who thinks he's a dog. but he has the most vile litter box habits.  the husband and i have been awoken from a dead sleep before due to the acute, emerging repulsive smell coming from it. i hate changing his litter box.  it's disgusting, and well, yucky.  i don't deal well with yuck.  husband has trash duty (most the time, sometimes i take it out, because i don't want to continue to nag, and be "that wife"), and other yuck duties, i think litter box duty should fall into this category, but it doesn't, because the fat cat-dog is mine.  i haven't cleaned the litter box in about 3 days, neither have i cleaned the kitchen in the same amount of time. i feel like a failure. a disgusting, gross, yucky failure. and that's put me in a foul mood.

i really don't know how to break this mindset, that the cleanliness of our room, kitchen, fatso cat-dog's litter box is directly correlated to my lovely-wife status. stuck in traffic this morning, i was sulking. my mind was so focused on the uncleaned litter box, the full sink, the laundry pilling up-again, and in the midst of bumper to bumper traffic, i could see clearly the people in the cars next to me (mainly because we were moving only 5 mph), and they looked so pulled together, so proper, so clean.  images of me running around this morning like a chicken with it's head cut off filled my thoughts, and i created some june cleaver scene in my head that these other women had this morning.  i imagined their bedrooms being perfectly decorated in a shabby-chick setting, fresh potpourri filing the room with lovely scents, their kitchen, sparkling clean, smelling bleach and lemony fresh. i imagined their hearts bursting with love, overflowing to a gushy, uplifting, encouragement persona for all those around them; and then i compared myself.  the litter box on the forefront of my mind, the full sink, my haphazardly pieced together outfit this morning, the stressful day ahead, full of icee trucks and water play, that leaves me trying to change (2 times within an hour period) 12  three to four year olds. and then, he called. the husband who was scheduled to work today at 9, and had left the house about 15 minutes after me. he was so calm and jovial.  we was only half a mile behind me, and had just then encountered the same traffic line i had been in for 30 minutes.  he was behind it, so he hadn't been that affected by it.  and i was snippy.  he was so happy, and perky, and i wasn't, and i felt as if was a slap in the face (which it wasn't, at all!)...."oh, no traffic for me, guess you just left at the wrong time", and the litter box made me do it, the kitchen sink made me do it, and i became frustrated, irritable, and unpleasant. not only was i a poor housekeeper, i was also a snippy traffic driver.  all these things together, and my femininity came into question, proverbs 31 seemed like a taunt, 1 peter 3:3-4 seemed like they were patronizing me, because i was so far from quiet and gentle. i later texted the husband and apologized for being ugly on the phone.  i'm working on this quality of focusing on others, and not myself so much.  i believe that if i focus on relationships with others, instead of my own faults and short-comings, that God can then change my heart.  i can't change my heart, only God can do that.  by focusing so much on myself, criticizing myself, comparing myself to make-believe people and those fictional perfect wives, i leave no room for God to do what He needs in my heart, in me.

i thank God for a kitchen that has a stove, a sink, a dishwasher, and a refrigerator full of food.  i thank God for a closet full of clothes that i can't choose an outfit from.  i thank God for silly luxuries like a fat cat that thinks he's a dog, when there are women all over the world that cannot afford to feed their children.

 his litter box ruins my life, but he's worth it.

a perfect representation of how i see me....

how the camera sees me.












i mainly write so that others will know: we all struggle.  not many people feel like they have everything together.  if me being completely open about my housekeeping ineptness and spasticness lets another fretting wife know she's not alone, my joy is in that.  :) 

the spirit of adoption and why we'd totally fill up Jesus' instagram feed.

i've never felt all that brag-worthy. i lead a pretty unremarkable life. i'm not especially gifted at any skill or have any remarkable talent, and i'd never stand out in a crowd for my beauty....but after watching some precious friends of mine go through the journey of adoption and bring their beautiful baby girl home, i'm convinced i'd be filling Jesus's instagram feed.

see, babies aren't all that talented either, like me, they aren't that handy in the kitchen, and they really don't contribute to keeping a spotlessly tidy house. they're cute, adorable, squishy, lovable, and even the most dull person in the world can make them laugh uncontrollably by making a silly face, so they make you feel good about your cheer-up ability too.

yet, my sweet friend who happens to be an awesome new mommy has already filled up her phone's memory with pictures (within 2 weeks, no joking). she also updates her social media site with some of these pictures captioned "look how sweet she is when she smiles while she sleeps" and "good morning!" and "good hair day" (because the swirl of hair on her head was just preciously perfect).  i love this. i love the joy she has. her daughter is home! her daughter has come home! and everything about her is just perfect and brag-worthy. seemingly ordinary events, looks, times of day, and expressions are picture and brag worthy because this is the child she has prayed for. the child she has believed for. the child she has trusted the Lord for. this beautiful child is representative of God's love for us, His goodness, His perfect timing, and the joy experienced when we trust in him when all else seems to tell us not too. another part of this story, there was a previous adoption in the works. another child(ren) my friends had taken as their own in their hearts before they were born. they prayed for, believed for, did everything they were supposed to in order to bring home. then something happened, and my friends were not able to bring this child(ren) home. they were devastated. in their hearts, their home was going to be filled with the pitter pat of little feet, they were going to be parents. they were going to respond to cries in the middle of the night with cuddles, comfort, and a bottle (or diaper change....). they were not angry with God. they took a time of silence, shared what they needed to, kept private what they needed too, and seemed to respond to every thought with "if it is His will". then, months later, something incredible happened, a woman sought them out to adopt the child she was carrying.  they could have said, "no, we've been hurt before, our hearts are closed", but instead, they responded with a "yes!" it wasn't an easy journey, it wasn't all perfect and without moments of "God, we trust Your will", but it was a faithful journey. and now my facebook feed is filled with baby pictures of a beautiful baby smiling, cooing, the top of her head, the bottom of her feet, her profile snuggled next to her lovely mommy...i'm pretty sure there was a post about a diaper change too.

see, this is the child they believed for, the child they prayed for, and she's here now. she's perfect. every moment is incredible to them. moments we may miss or not notice, they capture with a picture and share. that's how i see God over us.  He's had many, many, many heartbreaks. He's had many say, "i do not want you as my Father" He's had many walk away from Him, and His heart breaks with every instance of such. but, His heart also rejoices when we come home. He didn't close off His heart to us because some other hearts did not respond, or walked away. when we come home to Him, every moment is wonderful to Him. if He had a camera, He'd take a picture and caption it, "look at my child! they bought a contributor paper from my soon-to-be-son!" "look at my child graciously let that speeding hooligan in front of them in rush-hour traffic after he waited to the last minute to try to get over...(wait, that's my issue...)" and "look at my child! look at her tears as she sings to Me!" and even, "look at my child! love oozes out of him even when he's sad and doesn't realize he's exuding My Life to those around him!"  all of our moments, He adores. all of them. when we pout and have lapses in judgement, and then respond to the conviction and turn our gaze to Him, He captures that. He delights in that. He shouts to His angels, "look! look! my child! my child! they're not angry with me any longer! their faith is being restored! it's being restored!!!"  i'd imagine He's definitely that parent that fills their social media page/feed with pictures and stories of potty and bath time, only He shares His joy over these events with angels...and it's probably not about our potty or bath time (but you never know, His thoughts and ways are higher than our own ;) ).  exhort yourself, when you don't feel brag worthy, or remarkable, when you feel less than remarkable, know that your seemingly mundane task, daily motions of smiling at your barista, buying a $1 contributor paper,  letting scalawags and rascals in front of you in rush hour, and even greeting your spouse with a smile at the end of the day, those are the moments He captures, those are the moments that bring Him major bragging joy. if we can delight in a precious smile on a baby's face as they sleep, if we can delight in the site of baby feet, and love the smell of freshly washed baby hair, then He can delight in our smile to a public service worker and He can delight in our hands as we lift them to Him in praise as we sing.

let us receive that!  let us know that He delights in us, because we have come home, and he has fought tooth and nail for us, He has battled for us, He did not give up.  He said we were His, and we became, and He wants to relish and delight in every moment of ours, just because He loves us, like a new parent, like an adoptive parent who believed and waited, and waited and believed. He waited for us, and now He wants to cherish every moment of ours, because those moments are His. 

desperation

i use to dream of being a martyr.  seriously.
i dreamt of desiring nothing more than giving everything because of my love for Christ.
i dreamt of laying all my wants, needs, desires, and comforts aside and charging full steam ahead for His Kingdom.

now i dream of shaking off these chains that bind me.
chains of desires to look a certain way. chains of desires to accomplish xyz...
chains to be accepted in this world....this world that rejected, and still rejects Christ

facebook, pinterest, all this social media is ruining us. being single minded toward heaven is difficult enough with the spiritual warfare fought in mind and heart's battlefield, but now, on a daily basis, we are bombarded with images and declarations of: look how "beautiful" i am, look how rich i am, look how much stuff i have, look how awesome of a housewife i am, etc...and those of us that are not, as much as we don't want to, we slip into comparison mode. if we don't slip into comparison mode, we slip into righteous indignation mode: "don't you know that for what you spent on that, you could pay for an impoverished child in uganda's (rwanda, ethiopia, etc.) school, food, and medical for a year!" or "don't you know there are much bigger issues plaguing our world right now--human trafficking, hunger, disease, genocide!" and then we become so welled up with anger--indignation, that we want to alienate ourselves from those people....maybe that's just me?

"you adulterous people! do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity against God? therefore, anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy with God" --james 4:4

as i laid in bed tonight, next to the husband, my mind was turning so greatly, the violent swirls of thoughts, ponderings, and worries began to physically affect my heart, my body. i felt my heart race, and i felt discomfort rise.  "honey" i asked, "do you ever think about how we are going to serve His Kingdom greater together than we could apart? how do you think that looks" i bring these broken fragments of my heart in forms of concerns to him almost daily, so he wasn't completely caught off guard by this question. he responded that as we grow together, grow older together, grow in our place in life, this is going to change, that we're just now beginning our life together (we were married only 4 months ago), and we need to strengthen ourselves in that before we can really focus entirely on serving others.  he has a point.  my heart is so fragile right now, it must be strengthened before it pours back out. ---fragile in a good way. i am so desperate for Jesus, Jesus alone, that i dream again of martyrdom (recognizing that my life is but an offering for Him). i dream of grasping that appearances, weight, etc. don't define me. i dream of others realizing stuff, status, etc doesn't define them either. i dream that we would all realize "whatever you did for the least of these, you did unto Me" --matthew 25:40.  i dream of all of us valuing others (near and very far) above ourselves.

i desire to not care. i desire for Him to be my single focus. my utmost joy.
the joy that shone through stephen's face as he was stoned, how Jesus STOOD at the right hand of God as the beloved stephen was being stoned (seriously! the only place in the bible where Jesus is stated to be standing at the right hand of God, as opposed to seated). i want that joy. in the midst of screams, threats, taunts...i want that joy, that gazes upward, that allows my face to shine like the sun. in the midst of living in one of the most materialistic societies, to gaze upward.

when i was in burma with a mission group, one of the secret locations we visited had a secret "vestibule of water" behind it. people in this restricted land are so desperate for Jesus, to receive Him, to experience freedom in their hearts that they joyfully are baptized in this:

one of the doctors we were with jokingly pleaded with us to not request to be baptized in this. i wanted to. i wanted to feel that solidarity in desperate joy with these people. (i was overruled and not allowed...a liability issue, even the host "pastor" wouldn't allow it).

what a beautiful thing. to look upon such a dirty, grimy, "scary" vestibule of water, and know that here, joy and new life was shown in symbolic form. i picture the faces of men and women as they are pushed underwater here, and then the shinning joy that radiates as they are brought back up. 

here's my plea: that you would know the joy in abandoning everything, not just material possessions (that's easy for some, including me), but abandon the desire to define yourself in anyway other than a child of God, abandon the desire to criticize the reflection in the mirror, drop your head in shame at the size of your clothing. He says: "you are all together beautiful my darling, there is no blemish in you" --song of solomon 4:7

there are much bigger issues to fight for in His Kingdom. there is far too much praying to be done, far too much fighting for the defenseless to be done. too many people who need to feel loved. too many people to search for and hear they matter. 

to make it more accountable, i'm stepping back from that. i'm stepping back from criticizing myself. for each insecurity, criticism of self i have, i am going to turn it into a prayer for someone else. insecure of my weight? i will pray for the hungry bellies of the millions of children worldwide to be fed. insecure of my appearance, i will pray for security of women of the muslim faith who must cover their faces....and so on. 

"you intended to harm me, but God intended it for good, to accomplish what i now being done, the saving of many lives" --genesis 50:20

smiles, loves, gestures, and the balm of gilead.

for the first time in the history of our marriage (all 4 months of it), i have no laundry to do.  so, i'll write.

i had a dream the other night, and i am still disturbed by it. i dreamed that the husband and i were on a mission trip together in uganda. the group we were with was taking a lunch break, so we each found a spot for our own little picnic and began to eat. out of my peripheral, i saw a little boy sitting about 3 feet from me. he was dirty, sores on his tiny body, and belly swollen from malnourishment. i continued to eat my lunch, pretending as if i did not see him. i could see him looking at me, sad eyes, lips quivering from hunger, and i continued to pretend as if i did not see him, hoarding this food to myself.
i fear this is my subconscious mind telling me what kind of person i really am. that i am capable of doing so much more than i am, so much more than i am willing to sacrifice to do bigger things, help more....maybe i've just gotten really good at putting on a front that deceives people into thinking i have a better heart than i do.

i have this incredible friend, who is awesome at ministering to others. inviting the "outcasts" into her and her husband's home, approaching them and befriending them, encouraging them. she pretty much has that missionary to the  poor and powerless all the time here stateside. i've always found it easier to travel to far off lands and love on the dirty, poor, hungry, and powerless there, but, i ignore those people here. it seems i save my "missionary heart" for after i pass through customs in some other country. it's easy to love on people when you traveled to do it, raised money to do it, take a bunch of pictures of yourself doing it, and refer to what you are doing unto itself as a "mission trip". but, our lives should be missions. daily, we should be the hands and feet of Jesus, extending smiles to those around us, approaching those whom the Spirit moves on us as hurting while we are out and about,
mother teresa once said, "every time you smile at someone it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing", and yet, i find myself daily, hoarding my smiles, giving them only to those that are "easy and fun" to be around.  why is this? why in real life, do i do as i did in that awful dream, and pretend no to see those around me that are hungry, hungry for love, hungry for acceptance, hungry to be wanted and belong.

i pray, pray, pray. i plea for a radical heart, that serves and loves those around me, when i am abroad and when i am home. i pray for a heart that does not differentiate when i am in another countries borders, and when i am in the borders of the states. let not my own wounds and insecurities prevent me from bringing a kind word, loving gesture, or heartfelt offering that acts as a balm of gilead to those i see in need.

“I am not sure exactly what heaven will be like, but I know that when we die and it comes time for God to judge us, he will not ask, 'How many good things have you done in your life?' rather he will ask, 'How much love did you put into what you did?” --mother teresa

the laundry baskets taunt me

i don't know how working mothers do it. --working mothers whose homes do not look like they need to be on hoarders. the husband and i have no children, and yet, outside of my working hours, i can't seem to maintain some semblance of a well-cared for home. i brought the clean baskets of laundry into our bathroom with every intention of putting them up, yet, cleaning this, straightening that, showering, and etc. seemed to have gotten in the way and now, those clean baskets still sit in the bathroom, taunting me, whispering my failures to me, reminding me that i'm not a perfect wife, that i'm not meeting expectations (set by whom?), and that his parents would most certainly figure out that they were completely wrong for approving of me if they saw what a pitiful house keeper and laundry putter-upper i am.

i picture other homes kept by the wives with perfectly coifed hair wearing cute tory burch dresses under their monogrammed aprons, and vacuuming without stumble in their cute little pumps...these homes smell of freshly baked apple pies, counters set with freshly brewed sweet tea, and smudge-free windows. --that most certainly is not my home, or me. these baskets of yet-to-be-put-up laundry remind me of that.

i got off-course

     i forgot. and i lived my life striving to please man. i became burdened with ponderings of: "am i good enough," "am i measuring up," "have i let them down," "are they proud of me," "am i worth ______,". i found my self staring in the mirror, picking everything apart and making mental notes of what in my appearance needs improvement, what machine i need to hit up at the gym my next visit, and if i'm showing signs of aging. i hear constructive criticism at work, and am deeply wounded that i am not perfect and beyond having room for improvement. i see great success all around me, and sadden myself with a belief of mediocrity, allowing feelings of subparness to overcome me. i feel less than because others are not envious of me. and with that, i come face to face with the ugliness of pride that has become me. 

"For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ."--galatians 1:10

i had begun to serve man and my own desires above God. i had begun to strive so desperately to be accepted and envied by a world so lost and far from God. i had convinced myself that i was balancing the two: being superior and admired by the world, and growing in my pursuit of closeness to God. it's impossible though.  

matthew 6:24 says: "no one can serve two masters, for he will either hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to one and despise the other. you cannot serve God and money (acceptance, validation, etc). 

boom. there it was. i switched sides. and it was surprisingly not that obvious to me. i knew i felt like i was drifting and that i wasn't as sharp in the Word as i had been; but i'm not sure that i understood that i had so drastically switched my intent focus until now.  the surprising thing is this: it's been a gentle realization. the beautiful quality of the Shepard is this: He gently calls us back to Him, He gently restores us to His pasture. He called me back with a spirit of hope and a spirit of joy. He changed my eyes focus with the enticing unmatched beauty of His Kingdom while opening my eyes to the overcast and dreary world apart from Him. 

He is a loving bridegroom. always waiting for us with eager anticipation. and when we wander or plead for a different bridegroom to whisper sweet words of romance in our ears, He is patient for our return, and embraces us with the most comforting, gentle, and loving embrace beyond what we have known. and we are invited to continue to walk with Him in this, seeking first His Kingdom and planting our identify firmly in Him. 

We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.--romans 6:4

leprosy and me and Jesus. and that perpetual goofball, peter.

if you're like me, a good christian, you've been watching The Bible on History Channel (totally kidding, please don't post hate comments). tonight's episode portrayed Jesus' healing of the leper. old testament law dictates that those affected with leprosy could not be in the midst of everyone else--and if they came within eyeshot of others they had to yell out "unclean! unclean" ensuring that everyone knew they were "unclean" and could not be touched, less the clean ones become infected with this uncleanness too. Jesus approached him when He heard him calling out, and to the shock (and to some, horror) of those around them, reached His hands out and embraced his face--touched him. the leper seemed as shocked as others to have been touched by anyone---but especially Jesus.  immediately, he was made whole--clean. not over a period of months, weeks, days, even hours--immediately. in the midst of trying to multi-task and do my tummy exercises while watching this, i found myself wiping the uncontrollable tears from my face.  much of me identifies with the leper. the poor decisions i have made, the lives i have stolen happiness from, the havoc i have caused, and all the times (many times a day) i have been a wretched example of a christian. i read the writings of amy carmichael, mother teresa, elisabeth elliot, and i feel in the midst of incredible, loving, gentle christian (women) like them, i have to throw my hands up and shout "unclean! unclean!" i cannot be touched, i cannot be welcomed in, and why on earth, with christians like them to walk in the midst of, would He want to come to me, touch me, embrace my face, with all my uncleanness. i understand that i am not actually unclean, that i am redeemed, that He has already made me whole--but i still struggle with my new identity at times. i too often, identify with the leper; but even in the dirty, disease-ridden state, the Christ still embraced the face of the leper. i no longer have to shout out "unclean! unclean!"

there was also the scene with peter and walking on water. the storms raged, and Jesus stood calmly on the water, calling peter to Him. He called peter! the one He knew would be too timid and scared and deny Him three times--that peter--He called him to walk on the stormy waters to Him. peter got out of the boat, he stood on the water, took a few steps, then let doubt sink in. once the doubt sunk in, he began to sink. Jesus wasn't doubting him--Jesus was the one calling peter to Him--peter is the one that began to doubt-not Jesus! that's kind of like us. Jesus calls us, plants gifts within us, and speaks to us. it's us who doubt what we are doing. the impact we are having. it's us who doubt if we are part of His plan, part of loving others, part of being His hands and feet. it's our doubt that causes us to sink, not His doubt in us. and like peter, once we begin to sink, He will still pull us up, and He will still proclaim to us that He will build His church upon us.

i'm going to do something wild and wacky and crazy and fun, and connect winston churchhill with a bible verse ('cause i'm daring like that). churchhill once said, "do what you can with what you have, where you are"....don't wait to be changed to a foot, an eye, a hand, a missionary to india, ecuador, or to be smarter, prettier, richer, or have a sharper wit....He has equipped us, and planted us where we need to grow.
1 corinthians 12:14-20:

For the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. 19 If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts,yet one body.

if...

"If I cannot in honest happiness take the second place (or the twentieth); if I cannot take the first without making a fuss about my unworthiness, then I know nothing of Calvary love." --amy carmichael

during our engagement and wedding planning, the husband and i were thinking of having baby and childhood pictures of us placed throughout the reception area (for humorous reason of course), and as i rummaged through my childhood pictures, i was struck at the contrast of the happy, giddy, smiling baby/toddler/young child and the miserable, sad, unhappy adolescent.  i wonder at what point i let my fear of judgement and not being accepted begin to affect me. i have memories of being a very young girl, and seeing my peers, who i presumed were well known to be cuter than me, whose parents were still married, etc. being a preschool teacher now, i can spot some of those tendencies in some of of my little ones, and i want desperately to speak truth into their lives. i can see a path of self-doubt they are headed down, and i breathlessly, desperately want to head that off, divert it, pointing them down a path filled with inward love, that pours outwardly. if not diverted from that path at an early age, i know first hand how hard it is later to find your way from the path of doubt, morose shadowing, and reluctance. as much as i wish it were otherwise, i still find myself stumbling back into this path. i question how much joy, and for how long, did i rob myself of? how much joy am i still robbing myself of? the husband is one of the most sensitive people i know. my sadness makes him sad, and then that makes me more sad-that i'm making him sad. he encourages me, speaks truth to me, and is strong when i am weak--which is more often than not. i can't help but feel the weight is not easily shared. i see these incredible women around me, doing incredible things; they are so strong, so confident, so joyful, so graceful, so powerful, and i want that, i crave that strong joy that brings about an almost indestructible strength. i've looked up to women like mother teresa, amy carmichael, and elisabeth elliot, and i've attributed my comparatively unremarkable life to inability or unworthiness, instead of seeking how to grow where i am planted. "If I cannot in honest happiness take the second place (or the twentieth); if I cannot take the first without making a fuss about my unworthiness, then I know nothing of Calvary love." --amy carmichael.  

For the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body. --1 corinthians 12:14-20

we are in danger of missing our original design when we cannot accept that our purpose does not look like that of someone we have looked up to. we deflate the beauty, power and magnitude of God's perfect and sovereign design when we belittle our work, self, and giftings because they are not what we have designated as superior; in addition, we rob ourselves of the joy He has stored up for us. He is the maker of all things good, beautiful, and perfect, lets live in our good, beautiful, and perfect life with joy and without comparison. in this, we may find that we are able to love those who may need our love the most, when we would have otherwise missed them altogether because we were focused elsewhere. 

 ...and remember, many are happy with less than what you have

...and make a pinky-promise with someone to always hold each other accountable and edify :) 

more grace

every few weeks i choose a word/quality that i know i need to grow in, and focus on it. i tune into my day, my thoughts, and my actions, taking those thoughts captive (2 corinthians 10:5--We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.)

i tend to be a perfectionist, holding myself to a ridiculously high standard, and don't have much grace for myself when i fall short. while having a casual chat with my boss about some things going on, it became clear to me the source of why i feel so crushed when i (feel) i let someone down: i don't have grace for myself; and because i don't have grace for myself, i cannot accept grace from others...the paradox of this is that if i had grace for myself, i wouldn't need grace from others. if i knew that my identity was new, and that i was covered in redemption, i wouldn't perceive that my mistakes were impossible to recover from. i wouldn't believe that any stains accrued were permanent. the truth is, i have put off the old self, i have been renewed in the spirit of the mind, and my new self is created in the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness (ephesians 4:22-23). there are so many Godly women that inspire me, and the trap i allow my mind to fall into is that i am tarnished beyond repair in comparison to them. i have allowed my shortcomings to "outshine" the areas He as gifted me in-the areas He has called out in me to reach others.

more grace. more grace. more grace. 

i've been failing

sharp, prepared, strong, and determined. those used to describe me.
dull, ill-prepared, fragile, and complacent are more accurate now.

i had dreams of being mountain-like.
i had hope that i'd be as elisabeth elliot, and yet i find that i'm more like a timid scared orpah (yeah, looks like oprah...orpah was the girl in the story of ruth who chose to leave naomi and go back to her homeland when ruth said "where you go i'll go"....

it's a scary thing to feel weakness encroaching upon you
it's an even scarier thing to realize that you're just now realizing this is what has been happening.

c.s. lewis once wrote, "if in find myself in a desire which noting in this world can satisfy, the most probably explanation is i was meant for another"
i'd like to say that's what my problem is, but it's really that i'm still seeking perfection.

"But he knows the way that I take; when he has tried me, I shall come out as gold." --job 23:10 these ladies totally sharpen me, i recommend everyone have lovely sharpeners :) (proverbs 27:17). having lovelies that build you up in Christ is imperative. totally.

what does a perfect wife give up for lent?

...yeah, i don't know...being perfect?

anyhow, my lenten season decision has come a few days late, and it quiet honestly only came because i was sitting in church this morning with the husband, and our pastor was talking about fasting, and i remembered i hadn't decided on a fast yet...and then our amazing worship began. worship so amazing i imagine the seraphims from isaiah 6:2 were flying over our sanctuary during the midst of.  the sweetness of worship, the sweetness of being in the presence of God is this: it encourages you with a loving conviction that there is something better for you, that His plans for you are far greater than what is plaguing you with stress and concern at that moment.

all to often i find myself checking my identity in accordance with the world's eyes, the world's standards. i find myself concerned with what my coworkers think, my boss thinks, those that pass me in various other community places think. i stand in front of the mirror and critique myself, i critique my day, and dwell on how i could have been "more perfect". yet, somehow, i don't spend the same time, energy, effort, focus, on how He sees me. He's ordained my days, He knows my ending from my beginning (psalm 139).  i've become distracted. my time is too divided amongst unnecessary fills. He is the greatest love that i know, He is the only place of  unrelenting love, quiet solace, and never-ending mercy, and yet He gets the least amount of my time. t.v. gets my time, and only gives me disturbing, sad images in return, movies get my time, and only give me lost hours for it. when He gets my time, He gives me peace, restoration, and joy in return. i want to give Him more of my time, i want more of His peace, restoration, and joy. i want to clammer for His thoughts of me the same way i do for others'.

there are many decisions in my life i am not proud of. there are many paths i have gone down that had warning signs all over them, and yet i chose, and left a trail of destruction in my path. (coincidently enough, i just reached over to turn on my bedside lamp and spilled an entire cup of cocoa onto our carpet, and bed spread, and sheets....). honestly i still let these remain part of my identity, and therefore, when i look in the mirror, i see the destruction i've left behind as a result of these decisions, and the person that caused it, instead of the person pulled from the floods. i still see myself, struggling, resisting against the drowning process. and then i remember that He has pulled me from the flood waters. i remember i have a new identity in Him. i remember that He says to me "you are altogether beautiful my darling, there is no spot in thee" (song of solomon 4:7).

so in addition to t.v., i'm giving up my desire to be perfect.

less like hoarders, more like home; less like paula deen, more like "i tried"

so, the last week has been somewhere between a comedy of errors, and making our house our home.

we thought hosting a super bowl party would be our first norman rockwell "party" experience....bytheway, did you know norman rockwell did a tattoo artist painting:

moving on...i had visions of perfectly cooked chicken wings, crock pot bbq meatballs and sausages, an array of dips, and other delightful noshes being served.  i had my apron on, a perfectly prepared playlist going in the background as i began my preparations in the morning to ensure that everything would be cooked to perfection and timed wonderfully for our friend's arrival. as i broke out my crock pot and retrieved my meatballs from the freezer, i realized i had accidentally grabbed a bag of sausage balls :(

i figured this might be a glorious mistake...leading to the discovery of a favorite party-time snack-a-roo. judging by the 2 full containers of left overs, this was not the case :/ --lesson learned, be more observant when grocery shopping.  then there was the time i was retrieving the pan of marinated and sauced wings from the oven.  i had covered them in foil to ensure they would be extra tender, this dish had gone perfectly so far...until i was pulling it out of the oven and half the juice/sauce in the baking pan spilled into the oven and on the oven door :/ ...we're still working on scrubbing off those remnants. 

on the Jesus front, we talk to Him daily and look forward to planting ourselves into a great church we found. my thirst for Jesus-community to walk through in our new lives with is great. as iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another --proverbs 27:17

i honestly don't know how other couples can possibly do it without eyes focused on Him, and without staying in the Word. 

oh! also! there has been tremendous progress made in the area of: "it looks like someone broke into our house and all they did was through my clothes and belongings everywhere!" i can proudly say: all laundry is put up, our closet is perfectly organized now, the bathroom is organized and clean-with sink space visible, and those guest room sheets are finally washed. the thank you notes for our wedding gifts are another story, it's quiet embarrassing actually, that i haven't sent them written them yet. 

:sigh: suppose i'll start on those now. 

we're hitched!

 

Therefore, what God has joined together, let not man seperate. --Mark 10:9

the day came and was gone, like a flash. it really is a surreal experience, and i am so thankful i had an amazing photographer, because the whole day is a blur. in a good way :)

i have indeed checked my fussy pants onto January 18th, guess it was the stress of it all. so thankful for the husband who was so gentle, kind, supportive, and understanding through it all.

i don't really have the same patience he does, which is surprising, because i work with small children for a living. it's easier for me to have patience with little ones than big people, i found this out in our joint traveling venture (honeymoon). there were moments snippiness arose in me, luckily he's forgiving and patient (as aforementioned).

i've always had this grand idea that i'd be the wife that cooks amazing food, keeps a lovely house, and is always june cleaver put together...in our first week home, living together, i've cooked one meal: fish and rice (and we had that for leftovers another day), and i'm still not completely settled in and unpacked--i could be using this snowy saturday to do that, but i figured updating facebook with wedding pictures and updating my imperfect wife blog is more important. i'm sure he disagrees, but he'll be patient with me in the process of our home looking slightly like the beginning of someone from hoarders. :shudder: --actually NO! that thought is about to send me running downstairs.

we're also hosting friends over to eat food and watch neat commercials (otherwise known as a superbowl party) on sunday, and i've yet to find recipes for amazing wings and dips...i'll probably look them up sunday morning...hope nothing has to marinate overnight....

this whole wifey thing doesn't seem to come natural for me. there's nothing like marriage and living with someone to make you realize what a selfish nature you really do have. 

our plans to do a bible study together are slow to be realized. we have our own personal quiet times, but we've yet to be able to sit down together and do this quiet time together. we both know the importance of it, and agree it is the foundation of our lives together, yet, haven't made time. i don't really feel like i'm living out that whole wife lifting up her husband thing. i do send him encouragement text msgs via texts, and have identified several great books we can read together...and i really hope i can pull it together enough for it to happen soon. life gets in the way, schedules are busy, people are sick, working a lot and tired. none of those are excuses.  perhaps looking at our time as money/income, if we tithe 10% of our income, our time should be no different. i know this, but still fail at it--in our first week of marriage.

maybe list making is the solution? the solution to prevent our home from looking like it's on it's way to hoarders, to minimize my belongings (as two lives are one now, those lives need to be smaller!), and prioritizing for time's sake. our desire is to be buried deeply in the Word, identities in Christ, eyes focused on Him, marriage grounded on Him.

thankful for the husband who is gentle, patient, and understanding, and a God who is the same and never waivering.

...and not ashamed

i have a fairly large tattoo on my left arm....see:

bytheway, this is the back of me, many people are confused and perplexed....

most of the time, i LOVE my tattoo. i love the verse/story it was inspired by (luke 24:32)...after Christ's death and resurrection, two of the disciples were on the road to emmaus, when a man came to them. they did not recognize him as he asked them what they were talking about (reports that Christ's body was not in the tomb and He had risen). they began to tell this man about Christ, and all the events that led to his crucifixion and ressurection. when they arrived to their destination, they went to the upper room to have a meal, and the man went up with them. he offered to bless the food, and broke the bread. as soon as he broke the bread, it says their eyes were opened and they recognized Him and He disappeared from their sight. they turned to each other and said, "did our hearts not burn within us he talked with us on the road and opened the scripture to us?!"
it's my reminder to feel, "is my heart burning within me?"

i'm getting married in one week...one! to the most wonderful (soon to be) husband there is. i'm biased, sorry :)
(soon to be) husband is incredible. he's loving, gentle, kind, patient, encouraging, and so supportive of me, and all my variety of pants (cranky, fussy, stressed, sad).
my dress is beautiful...really, really, really beautiful. i'd describe it, but mr. wonderful sometimes reads this (for an ego boost :) ) and i don't want him to have any clue about my dress---shhhhhh!

every girl wants to be the most beautiful bride she can be. each may have their own idea of what the most beautiful is, and that is even more beautiful.  some of us want to be thin, some toned, some curvy. some of us want trumpet gowns, some mermaid, some ball gowns, some layered, etc. some of us want vintage, some elegant, some formal, some bohemian, etc. some find the most beauty in quirky, some find it in natural, and so on. there is no one way to be the most beautiful bride.  at some point today, when i was joyfully thinking "i'll be marrying this amazing guy in one week!" i felt this crushing weight, this ugly thought, "i could be more beautiful for him if i didn't have this huge tattoo on my arm....i won't be able to look perfect for him". i felt pangs of sadness sweeping through me. the thoughts crept in--his breath is not going to be taken away. i felt the pangs of sadness, sadness that he would see me, and his eyes first grow toward my tattoo, and not me, as his whole bride, being brought to him.  through this temporary sadness, i did what anyone would do, i posted about it on facebook. dear friends immediately responded rebuking this. and then he did too. after his cousin commented that as long as it isn't across my forehead, i'm good, he replied, "Across the forehead would be cool! I love my girl just the way she is!!" 

i then remember the story of adam and eve in genesis, when it is said they were naked and not ashamed. before sin and the fall of man, they were naked and not ashamed.  i thought about this, and i thought  about where the shame comes from, relating to this. and, it's this: my identity. where am i finding my identity? i slip sometimes and look for it places it cannot be found. as a (soon to be) imperfect wife, i can measure myself against a lot of women, a lot of ideals, a lot of articles, pictures, movies, shows, etc. and that opens me to shame, sadness, failure complexes. or, i can measure myself to scripture, to His best for me. and He says: 

"you are all together beautiful my darling, there is no blemish in you" --song of solomon 4:7

the world tells us we can always be more beautiful. He tells us we are perfectly beautiful. 

'til death

we are two weeks from the wedding. two weeks until we stand before God and our friends and family and make our vows to each other.

"If the ultimate meaning of marriage is to represent the unbreakable covenant-love between Christ and His church (Eph. 5:22-33), then no human being has a right to break a marriage covenant. When the impossible day comes that Christ breaks His vow, "I am with you always, to the end of the age" (Matt. 28:20), then, on that day, a human being may break his marriage covenant." --john piper (this momentary marriage).

as we each near the point of exhaustion, we continue to find peace, comfort, and rest in each other's presence. there's days i just want to curl up next to him, and block the world out. even in his own exhaustion he is still gracious and loving. i read all these blogs written by wives and mothers who seem near perfect, and i sometimes become sad because i want him to have that "perfect" wife and mother to his children. i want him to be able to come home to an always spotless house and perfectly cooked meals and perfectly prim and proper wife, but i know reality is: that isn't going to happen. proverbs 31 does say that a wife should tend to her household and make light work for her husband, but in our pinterest generation, i believe we have began to grossly misinterpret what that means. our hearts should be what is kept clean and in prim and proper order first, because that's what all else flows from. 
proverbs 4:23 tells us this: "above ALL ELSE, guard your heart, for it is the well spring of life". i am to guard what images, words, messages, etc that go into my heart. i must also guard my mind against these, my eyes, my ears--those are the passage ways to the heart. 

on a side note, there's nothing like a marriage, or entering into one to make you realize how truly selfish you really are. even in our exhaustion, stress, and sickness, we still seek how to best love each other. we work daily to grow to the place where no amount of stress, exhaustion, sickness, or trails lessen the love we have for each other. our love grows more through these things, because the love we have for Him grows more through the trails. we work daily so that our lives represent the never failing love He has for us. 

but first, i'm going to go over cook some french toast. :) 

15 days.

we're all marriage licensed up. i became a little stressed in the process, but (soon to be) husband brought me back to calm again, as always. :)

15 days, and he goes from (soon to be) to just "husband".

i met him at his work tonight to deliver him some fuel in a cup (starbucks). he invited me in to giddily show me off to his night crew, which completely boosted my feel good outlook--who doesn't like to be bragged about?! :) --especially when it's their 6'2 240lb fiance who can build a house with his bare hands doing it giddily!

he's incredible. i am blessed. he calms me, encourages me, and makes me laugh even when i'm wearing my stress/cranky/fussy pants. 

(soon to be) husband is quiet the rock

i'm  a preschool teacher. i have a classroom of 18 adorable, energetic, brilliant, and melt-down prone 4 year olds. i've seen these little ones become puddles of lip-trembling, floor grabbing, crying messes. this is usually caused by someone saying "such and such" or doing "this and that" sometimes it's over not being able to find the periwinkle colored crayon.... there's times my co-teacher and i exchange "seriously, this is about that" looks (covertly of course, their feelings are of the utmost import) and then we quickly scoop them into our arms, or kneel down beside them and calmly talk them through the life-ruining incident of wanting the bulldozer but having to settle for the dump truck. (soon to be) husband does this for me on a pretty much daily basis now too.

today's lip quivering, floor grabbing, trembling cry fest was well called for though. i have a very close family member, whom is ill (more so mentally than physically, but, they're both tied together...), and this close male family member sometimes says very unkind things. i had become pretty great at drawing  boundaries, which resulted in conversations being had only every few months. well, with mr. wonderful and i's wedding quickly approaching, my communication with this family member has had to increase. i received a phone call from a number i didn't recognize, so i did what anyone would do, i answered it (never do this, seriously, and the one time i do!). i was greeted with unkindness, to say the least. after a few moments of being verbally treated like a barroom brawl, and me staring almost blankly at (soon to be) husband, then looking at him with a hurt-filled expression, i decided to hang up. the damage had already been done though. tears welled up in my eyes, my lip quivered, and i turned away from the stove where i was heating up those awesome left-overs from yesterday. mr. wonderful embraced me, and turned off the stove, and then embraced me again. he offered words of encouragement, but much like my 4 year olds in class, i wasn't really hearing them. i pouted. i stared at my delicious food, no longer hungry, i wanted to become a puddle. he sat the table for me and pulled his chair next to mine. how could i refuse this?! i took my bowl of delicious left over chicken enchilada made up crock pot soup thing, and sat next to him. he led us in prayer, comforted me, encouraged me, supported me. then, like my 4 year olds in class, i pulled myself from being a puddly  mess in the floor, and just cuddled to him. he continued to encourage me, support me, and be so gentle with me-a stark contrast to the family member i had just spoken with.

i love this man.

"In the same way I will not cause pain without allowing something new to be born," --isaiah 66:9 (ncb translation) 
(soon to be) husband sharpens me, and always is the perfect example of gentle strength with me.  through the times that mr. wonderful has to be gentle and strong with me/for me, i know that God is birthing a new thing in me and through me. 

he's not marrying me for my baking ability

we both had today off, and had originally decided that we'd be lazy today and watch dr. who all day long. we haven't watched a single episode.  but i did successfully make one of the worst loaves of bread, ever--i'll talk about that later.

my pants today: grumpy pants. yet again, his patience never ceases to amaze me. the stress leading up to the wedding has been incredible, i hope that's what it is, because it's what i've been blaming my huge supply of grumpy, fussy, and cranky pants on...guess we'll know on jan. 20 :)
also.....i've come to realize that the honeymoon actually has NOTHING to do with sex, and everything to do with recovering from one of the busiest, most stressful spans of time you go through. "whoa, you sound like a bridezilla" you may say. ill nay nay. the wedding is actually low key, but somehow it's still stressful; perhaps this is why people hire wedding planners.

once i changed out of my grumpy pants today (into a way more becoming pair of adorable pants), i decided to cook for him-some made up recipes. i had a 50% success rate on this idea. the success: chicken enchilada crock pot soup thing.  see, it began as we were going to make chicken tacos, and i just wanted to make the chicken super tender by cooking it in the crock pot. but then, we went to the store, and i saw all kinds of yummy stuff, so i changed my mind, he nodded and said, "yes, dear". it turned out well, see:

yummy made up chicken enchilada soup with guacamole. also, he has big hands.

then, i had this brilliant idea! i'll make greek yogurt bread! i've never really made bread before (because a roll of pillsbury crescent rolls and biscuits doesn't count), but i thought, eh, it can't be that hard!  i used some flour, some honey greek yogurt and a dash of salt (because almost every recipe calls for a dash of salt...). well, it'll make a great paperweight:

it was so bad, i couldn't even fret. not at all like the time i tried to make a birthday cake for Jesus at christmas and went to frost it, only to have the top of the cake move around with the spread frosting (which is NOT supposed to happen--Jesus would not want an imperfect birthday cake). i cried real tears, and my (soon to be) husband, who is normally the most patient person with me in the world, didn't even know how to respond to this crying fit. looking back, it was all quiet silly.

bytheway, the candles are in an infiinity pattern--because how many candles do you put on Jesus' birthday cake? 

want to try my made up chicken enchilada crock pot soup recipe? here it is:
about a pound of frozen chicken breast
a packet of taco seasoning
one cup water
--put all this in the crock pot
when the chicken is cooked, you add:
a small bag of frozen corn niblets
a can of drained and rinsed black beans
a can of fire roasted tomatoes that was cooked with a packet of enchilada sauce mix and one cup water

--continue to crock for another hour. enjoy!
i like it with guacamole too (well, i think anything goes with guacamole)--i added a scoop to my bowl, but the (soon to be) husband just ate his guacamole with chips.

when the (soon to be) husband loves me on days when i have on my fussy pants, it reminds me much more of Christ's great love for us:
Romans 8:37-39
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.