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.