A Tuesday at Target

I was just approached by a woman in the Target parking lot. She tapped on my window after I buckled both kids in and asked me if I could help her get to a women's shelter in Minneapolis.
She told me she had 30 nights reserved for her there, but she had to get there and is there any way I could help her?
I told her I don't have much cash, but I could pay for one of her bus trips.
She said she hadn't eaten since she got off the Greyhound from New York.
I offered her the choice of any of the groceries we'd just purchased--including the Oreos!
She laughed at me and said, "No thank you. I'll just take the money."
So I gave her every penny I had--$1.95 in change.
As I drove away, I got to thinking...there's no Greyhound drop off near our Target. She laughed at my genuine offer of practical help. She approached another mother with children as soon as my window was rolled up.
I think I was fooled.
And that kinda ticks me off. Don't approach me when I've got my chicks in public. This mama hen is vulnerable in the open with her chicks.
As we neared our home and my blood pressure was nearing dangerous levels, God softened my heart. He reminded me that everyone has a story and what must hers be like that she's asking mama hens for money in a public parking lot? Did she intend for her life to take whatever path has brought her here?
In 2 Corinthians 1:1b-9 Paul writes:
For we do not want you to be ignorant, brothers, ₂ of the affliction we experienced in Asia. For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. ⁹ Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead.
It's so encouraging to learn that even Paul suffered discouragement and despair. If the God of mercy comforts me and comforted Paul, what right have I not to show love to a lady--"utterly burdened"--telling me lies through my car window on a drizzling Tuesday afternoon?
It irks me that she was, in all probability, lying to me...but, then again, maybe she wasn't. In truth, if I'd had more money, I would have given it to her. I guess it's perfectly providential that I had just enough to cover one bus ride. I think it's fair to deduce that she IS burdened and in some kind of trouble, so I hope my $1.95 makes a difference and somehow reminds her of the Truth: that she is loved and cherished by the God of comfort and grace.

Cephas

As we approach Easter, I find myself thinking about Peter and his denial of the Lord.
Luke 22:60-62 says: But Peter said, "Man, I do not know what you are talking about" And immediately, while he was still speaking, the rooster crowed. And the Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the saying of the Lord, how he had said to him, "Before the rooster crows today, you will deny me three times" And he went out and wept bitterly.
I'll bet he wept bitterly. Talk about an understatement. Can you imagine the weight carried in that look shared between Peter and Jesus? Poor, poor Peter. How humiliating. How disappointing. How crushing. They were friends, and Jesus even knew Peter would deny him, but Peter didn't believe it. Ye he denied the Lord any way.
Are we really so different?
My favorite thing about this story is the sweet forgiveness Peter receives later in John 21. Some of the disciples are out fishing when they realize Jesus is talking to them from the shore. Peter says, "It is the Lord!" and throws himself in the water to swim to meet Jesus standing on the shore 100 yards away. I love it. I LOVE that part. His denial didn't matter--all that mattered was the resurrected Lord waiting for him on the shore and he could. not. get. there. fast enough.
What kind of private conversation must they have had while they waited for the others to drag the net full of fish to shore? Did Peter beg for forgiveness? Did he throw himeslf at Jesus' feet? Did he embrace his friend? Did they weep? Did they laugh?
What kind of love is this, that Peter can deny the Lord and then be embraced by him as a friend a few days later?
And again, I ask, are we so different?
Will Jesus turn us away if we go running to him? Or will he wait for us--even though we have denied him in the face of his own humiliation?
Jesus said to [Thomas], "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you had known me, you would have known my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him." (John 14:6-7)
Anyway...all this is to say: I bet Peter really gets down at the Resurrection celebration in heaven.

Hate.

I've been thinking about hate lately. In fact, I asked God to deliver me from hating someone recently. I believe that he has and will, but I also hope I can let it go. So, while I'm thinking about it, I have to ask...
Who do you hate, gentle reader?
Who hates you?
Is there a difference?
(For me, there is no difference.)
Hate can spring up so quickly from something that seems so small...envy, anger, frustration...you name it. Sometimes even the tiniest seed of irritation can grow into a giant cactus in the middle of our flower garden. Nothing pushes me closer to the brink of hatred like unloading the dishwasher after someone else has loaded it. I'm not kidding. Ask me about it--I'll tell you some time.
But here's the thing--and I hope this knocks your socks off, the way it did mine--we don't have the right to hate each other. God doesn't give us that right. The only one with the power to judge is the Lord. Not me. And who am I to hate someone God loves dearly as his own? Can I claim his love--to be loved as his beloved, chosen child while hating someone all the while? Surely hating while being God's beloved are incongruous. 1 John 4:10 says, "In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins." We are loved. Loved. Loved. The Bible is very clear on this. This is just one example of God's love for us among MANY. If you don't believe me, go to ebible.com and type in the word love.
Anyway, back to hate. Let me lay this one from Exodus 23:4 on ya, "If you see the donkey of one who hates you lying down under its burden, you shall refrain from leaving him with it; you shall rescue it with him."
I believe what the metaphor is pointing at here is the idea that if someone who hates you is burdened or in jeopardy, you shall rescue them. If you are able to help, you may not turn away. In this way, we are bound to those we hate! Imagine that. We are already bound to them in our hearts...carrying around the burden of our hatred, but we are bound by Christ's love to help them.
What does it do to our hearts if we unburden the ones who hate us? Since, really, there is no difference between being hated and hating (at least for me. If you are able to make a distinction, you are a better man or woman than I), if we turn around and help those that we hate, what happens?
Now, I suppose there are circumstances where this won't happen or isn't possible. But I propose that there are situations where it IS possible. Where it can happen.
So, go for it. I encourage you to, "Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you." Luke 6:27-28.
I'm going to give it my honest-to-goodness best shot, and with God's grace maybe I will be able to let go of my hate and become more like him in the process.
Let me know how it works out.

This is real life. (Alternate title: Oh, my God! My God!)

The day before Thanksgiving, a mother and daughter came through my line. I would guess they are around fifty and seventy in age, and it is clear that they are very close and enjoy each other. We got to chatting while I rang up their order and learned a little about each other: we knew some mutual people through our churches and we are all Christians. We had some giggles and sincerely wished each other well.
They came through my line again on Christmas Eve. Same thing--exchanging more pleasantries and learning a little more about each other.
One more time, a few days later, they came through my line again, getting ready for a New Year's Eve party.
And I didn't see them again until tonight.

I was ringing up her groceries, trying to remember how I knew her, when a thought came to my mind: "She comes through with her mother." The thought was barely half-formed when the words came out of my mouth, quiet, but like a trumpet to my own ears, "HOW'S YOUR MOTHER?"
She paused, looked me square in the eye and said, "She died. I knew you were going to ask me about her and I've been dreading it, but I wanted you to know."
I literally did not know what to say. In the interest of the privacy of her pain, I won't go into the details of our conversation, but suffice it to say that there is NOTHING to say when someone is crushed by heartbreak. I hugged her, and sincerely offered anything I could give. We both cried and I didn't want to embarrass her, so I didn't prolong the conversation.
It's been almost twelve hours now, and I still keep trying to think of what I should have said to her. Trying to find the right thing to say...and the only things I can come up with are this:
1. You have been a wonderful daughter. You were a blessing to your mother until the end, and I know she loved you very much.
2. It doesn't help with the pain, but what a sweet promise we have in Jesus. Without his blood, there would be no hope. And even though the hope doesn't take away what you're feeling right now, it offers us comfort that many people don't have. Salvation is the only deliverance.

I don't even know her name.

What Harry Potter Means to Me

So...I went at midnight last night to see the last ever Harry Potter movie.
It was funny: as the movie drew to a close, I couldn't help but feel sad. Harry and I have been friends for a long time. Longer than I've known my husband. Longer than I was in high school. Or college. Longer than I've been a parent. Or known who I want to be when I grow up. We have a history.
Say what you want about the Harry Potter books, but something much bigger is going on here for me. Something bigger than the story on paper. His story has become a part of mine, simply because he's been here all this time. There are other characters that are a part of me--Kinsey Millhone, Anne Shirley, Emily of New Moon, Nancy Drew, Jose and Ursula from *One Hundred Years of Solitude*, and Clay from *Memoirs of a Demon.* I know they aren't real, but I carry them with me and always will.
As an adult, the books that have made a lasting impression on me are fewer and far between than when I was a child. A book that lives and breathes and grows with you is a rare and cherished thing.
I have felt for a long time that God shows his abounding love for me in fictional literature. He created me this way--to read and write and enjoy. I am so thankful for his intricate planning and love for me that I can find such joy in the written word and turn my face to him while doing it.
Anyway, Harry, I'll miss you. It's been a good run.

Secret Confession: A Season?

I confess, being a mother of two children has proven nearly as difficult as I feared during my pregnancy. I am pleased to say that it is not AS difficult as I thought it would be, but close.
Lately I've really struggled with the drudgery and thanklessness of caring for two children's seemingly endless needs. In my heart I complain and long for time to myself. I SO look forward to my moments of "freedom," when I can leave the house sans children and fully expect to come home feeling refreshed and more able to cope with the demands of my new life. Usually my refreshed feeling lasts about fifteen minutes until I'm getting pulled in ten different directions and quickly become overwhelmed. I often feel like I am just barely keeping my head above water in the giant Lake of Too Much (just north of the the bustling city of Overwhelmington--in Canada).
I think that's just how it's going to be for a little while. Emphasis on little. I know this is just a season and that I am serving God by seeking to raise my children in his ways even when I don't think I can deal with potty training or colic or 5am feedings or discipline for ONE. MORE. MINUTE.
Oswald Chambers says this on the matter:
No one is born either naturally or supernaturally with character; it must be developed. Nor are we born with habits— we have to form godly habits on the basis of the new life God has placed within us. We are not meant to be seen as God’s perfect, bright-shining examples, but to be seen as the everyday essence of ordinary life exhibiting the miracle of His grace. Drudgery is the test of genuine character. The greatest hindrance in our spiritual life is that we will only look for big things to do. Yet, “Jesus . . . took a towel and . . . began to wash the disciples’ feet . . .” ( John 13:3-5).
We all have those times when there are no flashes of light and no apparent thrill to life, where we experience nothing but the daily routine with its common everyday tasks. The routine of life is actually God’s way of saving us between our times of great inspiration which come from Him. Don’t always expect God to give you His thrilling moments, but learn to live in those common times of the drudgery of life by the power of God.

If I hope to raise Fishers of Men, I guess I shouldn't complain (whether outwardly or inwardly) about washing my children's feet. I'm not going to get it all right. I know that. But I AM committed to doing my best at loving my children and husband in a godly way...I guess sometimes I just need to remind myself of the ultimate goal.

Obituary

Many of you know, my Gram died last week. I thought a fun way to honor her might be to share her obituary. Truth be told, I learned things about her that I didn't know at her funeral on Thursday.

Helga Amalia McClain, 104 years of age from the Balsam Lake area, passed away on March 8, 2010 at the St. Croix Regional Medical Center in St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin.

Helga was born on February 28, 1906 in the township of Johnstown, Polk County, Wisconsin to William and Concordia (Hoppe) Mohwinkel. She grew up in the Pipe Lake area and attended the Pipe Lake Public School from which she graduated in 1920. From then on she attended and graduated from Cumberland High School and in the spring of 1923 she moved to St. Paul with her parents where she finished her education at the Rasmussen Business College. On March 21, 1925, she married Charles “Cliff” McClain and when he graduated from the Medical School of Technology as a Biologist and Laboratory Technician. In January of 1926 they moved to Chicago where Mr. McClain had employment in a hospital. Helga worked as a bookkeeper at Marshall Fields and also did some modeling for Marshall Fields as well. While in Chicago, both of their children were born, Charles William in December of 1926 and Shirley Anne in July of 1928.

When the Great Depression set in, and salaries got too low to continue living in Chicago, families started to double up. They moved to a big farm in Indiana where several others of the family joined them. By 1933, they returned to the Balsam Lake area and bought the farm where she now lived. They moved to St. Paul for a few years to earn enough money to get established in the home that became hers until her death, living there permanently since 1953.
Helga’s Christian teaching started in her parent’s home and in Christ Lutheran Church at Pipe Lake. Later when they moved to Chicago, on January 2, 1927, she accepted Jesus Christ as her personal Savior. She kept her faith all these years, working in many churches wherever they went, sang in the choirs, trios and duets. Music was her greatest pleasure, along with her family. She enjoyed cooking and feeding friends and neighbors, embroidering, crocheting, and driving children to Sunday school. She was a member of the East Balsam Baptist Church and was the oldest member.
Helga had a special dedication and commitment to exposing children to the gospel.
Helga leaves to celebrate her memory: daughter, Shirley McClain-Duffert of Balsam Lake, grandson, Charles Duffert and his wife Kathleen, one granddaughter, Elizabeth Roberts and her husband Dennis, ten great grandchildren: Erin Desvousges and her husband Richard, Lauren Krebsbach and her husband Ryan, McClain Duffert, Daniel Roberts and his wife Kami, Aaron Roberts, Sarah Roberts, Elise Roberts, Matthew Roberts, Amy Roberts and Jesse Roberts, two great-great grandchildren: Shirley Jean Desvousges and Kohlee Anne Roberts, many nieces, nephews and other loving family and friends.

She was preceded in death by her parents, husband, Charles "Cliff" McClain, her son, Charles William McClain and her daughter-in-law Raenell McClain and five brothers and two sisters and their spouses.

Helga will be laid to rest next to her husband Cliff at the Balsam Lake Cemetery.

. . .

Gram truly had a heart for children and the spiritual gift of hospitality. I'm not sure that I would be a Christian today if not for her. I know God calls us each, but I believe he used Gram as a tool to call me.

I will miss her.

Dance for Jesus

For those of you who still visit my blog (I just typed bog by accident. Ironic? I think not.), I've been missing for a while because my Great-Grandmother, Helga, is dying. I've spent the week riding up there with my dad to sit by her bed and offer help where I can.
Last night it struck me: waiting for a loved one to die is not unlike waiting for your best friend to have a baby.
It's longer than you expect it to be, arduous, tedious and stressful.
If you are very, very blessed, though, both end in a homecoming and hopefully, a celebration.

Previous experience not required.

Several times in the last six or so years I've really gotten slammed by other Christian women with regard to my new (to me) roles as wife and mother.
I remember very distinctly an excited conversation I was having with a "more experienced" sister-woman-friend about shopping for engagement rings with Richard. Another "more experienced" woman piped up, "Shopping for rings? Yeah, that's when life really begins."
Now, she's not wrong, shopping for rings isn't exactly life and death, but it was a big deal to me--it marked a major change in the path of my life. Could she not identify with this? I believe she supports the institution of marriage and was once a young bride herself. So, would it have killed her to congratulate me? Wish me luck in my future marriage? Offer to support me in some non-offensive way?
I've endured a LOT more criticism now that I'm a mommy. I'm sure you know what it's like (if you're a mother)...snide, passive-aggressive comments about my and Richard's choices with Shirley Jean, you've all been there. "If you think you're blank now..." (I'm breaking out in hives just typing it.)
One memory that comes to mind was when SJ was just about six months old. I was joking with a "more experienced" sister-woman-friend about how wonderful it would be to sleep all the way through the night in a bed all to myself (a pipe dream that makes me salivate even now). A mother of four or five or seventeen whom I had never before met chimed in, "How many children do you have?" "Just one," I said. "Oh, poor you!" she rolled her eyes.
This is a relatively mild example...I've heard and read some downright nasty things about myself since Shirley was born, but the point is, REALLY???
Aren't we supposed to be building each other up? No, wait. Scratch that. Aren't YOU, "more experienced" sister-woman-friends supposed to be building ME up? Helping me to become a better wife and mother? Dare I say it: A Titus 2 Woman? Offering wisdom in a kind, non-humiliating way? The scrutiny and criticism I've endured, mostly from Christians, truly, is the reason I hardly blog any more. I know I'm not alone on this, and I'm probably (Edit: Probably?? I'm sure of it.) guilty of hurting someone's feelings inadvertently by trying to make a joke, etc., but I really do make a conscious effort to NOT put somebody to shame.
Speaking of shame, the truth is, I've enjoyed more praise and encouragement from my non-Christian friends than most of my "more experienced" sister-woman-friends. This isn't right.
I guess what I'm learning is that in ten or so years when I'm done bearing my four or five or seventeen children, I really don't want to be the kind of "more experienced" woman who is too proud to NOT say to a young wife and mother, "I hear you. I've been there. I'm praying for you. You're doing a GREAT job! How can I help?"

Stuff that doesn't last forever that while you're in it seem endless:

-Broken hearts
-Puberty
-Trials
-Winter

"Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight." Proverbs 3:5-6

"I will help where help is needed."

At the marriage retreat this weekend, Rich and I dealt with some spiritual warfare in the form of dreams, etc. This is not at all surprising when you think about it--if we go out to "the woods" to focus on our marriage, it's not going to make Satan happy. Right? Right.
Anyway, in the middle of the night, I poked Richard and said, "Can you pray with me?" He, of course, obliged and I went to sleep quickly feeling better.
This morning I said, "Thanks for praying with me last night. It helped a lot."
Rich said, "I prayed with you?"
At least he was willing to help in the moment.

Tomorrow is another day.

Today was just one of those days. One of those days when the voices of protagonists from my past come alive in my head. The kind of day that starts at 2am when Shirley wakes up screaming, holding her cheeks because her molars are coming in all at once. The kind of day that you go back to bed with the baby during her morning nap even though Richard let you sleep in already, and that protagonist, Mennifer Bial, calls you a loser and you believe her. The kind of day that you scald the baby's already tender mouth with Malt-o-Meal that you thought had cooled. Mennifer Bial calls you cruel and stupid. The kind of day that Mennifer Bial assures you that it really is a $7.99 haircut. And she reminds you that there's laundry waiting, dishes lurking and do you really want Richard to come home to find you wearing an undershirt with your hair a mess, glasses askew and by the way, Shirley is covered in Nutrigrain bar? The kind of day that only french fries will do and Mennifer Bial asks you if you want to be a size 12 again.
I'm not the only one, right?
Right?
I can't be the only one who can take an entire day off, maybe two, without doing anything. Without putting on a bra, without going anywhere, without eating anything before 3pm. I can't be the only one who lets the laundry go and the dishes pile up in the sink, hoping my husband won't notice. I can't be the only one visited by voices of protagonists-past. The only one with a complex about the truth.
Right?

Think on these things.

I've been thinking about training my mind lately. It occurred to me that I control my own thoughts. (Big realization, I know.)
Phillippians 4:8 reads,
"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think on these things."
In an effort to think on these things, I've decided to make a list.
And, lucky readers, I've decided to share my list with you. I write my list in an effort to encourage you all to do the same.
Here goes:
What do I know that is true?
God's love and God's word. That's all I know. I am not true. There is nothing good or true within me: "I am the moon with no light of my own. Still you have made me to shine. And as I glow in this cold, dark night, I know I can't be a light unless I turn my face to you."
What do I know that is noble?
My husband, my father, my spiritual gifts.
What is right?
My confidence in my spiritual gifts.
What is pure?
Feeding the child of my womb by my own breast.
What is lovely?
Freckles and reading a wonderfully crafted sentence.
What is admirable?
A woman who fears the Lord. And her friendships.
And what is excellent or praiseworthy?
Sometimes, it's hard to know, but one woman in particular comes to mind.

I understand that by openly admitting my quest to serve God and submitting my life to him automatically turns me into a fool in the eyes of many (or my few readers), BUT what else is there? Really. I've looked. How else can I escape the injustice of this fallen world that keeps me in bed but to turn everythong over to God and instead focus on the above list?

"Shine on me with your light--without you I'm a cold dark stone. Shine on me, I have no light of my own. You are the sun and I am the moon." --Sara Groves

Choosing to stand firm.

Lately, I've been feeling very much like God doesn't care about me or my life. I railed against him. I accused him of not even participating in our lives. I knew this was wrong, but I was on the verge of despairing.
This weekend Porter recommended that if we don't have faith, perhaps we should ASK for it. He said, "Persuade your heart to trust in God. Remember that God is with us." So, that's what I did. I asked God to restore my faith, not necessarily believing that he would, but knowing that I wanted my faith and trust in God's sovereignty and love back.
Last night I got a text message from a friend telling me that her friend had discovered that she was pregnant and was planning to have an abortion. I committed to praying for her friend and the life of that little baby, which I did. Earnestly.
A couple of hours later I got another message telling me that her friend had decided to keep the baby.
I wept for joy. Literally. I laid in bed and wept. I thanked God for that little baby's life being spared, and I thanked him for reminding me that he cares about us.
Am I seeing God's hand in my life today? I don't know. Am I content and confident in God's love for me? Yes.

"If you do not stand firm in your faith you will not stand at all."
-Isaiah 7:9

A Week of Thanks: Thursday

Today I am thankful for new traditions and a successful meal!
I made my very first Thanksgiving meal today, and everything turned out wonderful, and better yet, I got the timing right! Everything went on the table at about the same time, and was all still HOT when we sat down!
Thank you, God for my little family and for twice-baked sweet potatoes.

I love you, Lord.

Your mercies (and blessings) are new every morning.

A Week of Thanks: Wednesday

Today I am thankful that "There is no one like our God."

"You are well."

Get out your tissues. I can't even watch it a second time.

What a testament to Christ's love and the joy of the Holy Spirit that this family can know that their son is well and with the Lord now. Not to mention the way they cherished every day they had with him.
God, give me this kind of joy.

In Two: My Own Lament

Warning: This post contains the ugly contents of my heart.

An unexpected song that I had never heard brought me to my knees tonight in the car.
I don't know why, but I guess I thought I was the only one who had the power to tear her husband apart with her words.
I know there are exceptions to this rule, but many men are not able to do as much damage as quickly as I can, and with as little effort. Certainly not Richard.
And why don't we talk about it? When was the last time I said to a girlfriend, "I disrespected my husband today and tore him down in a way that only I can."? I so desire to banish this sort of thing from my attitude toward the man I married, but still, I snarl and snap without thinking twice. More often than I care to admit.
And it's just so commonplace to humiliate and belittle. Women do it ALL. THE. TIME. After it happens, I am embarrassed and disgusted, and have to seek forgiveness from my husband, but still, I'll do it again. Why can't I control my tongue? I long to use my words to build him up--not tear him down.

Here's the song that touched me so much tonight. It's something to think about, anyway:

In Two (The Lament), by Jennifer Knapp
Finish up your coffee, love
it's getting cold
let's finish up this fight tonight
before the sun draws nigh and I'm old

Have mercy on me I'm a girl
though I'm cruel and you cry
I won't shiver cause I know how to break a man
I know how to break a man in two

Still you're suffering, my love
o, who's to blame?
you might be tired,
but I'm not through fanning the flame

Have mercy on me I'm a girl
though I'm cruel and you cry
I won't shiver cause I know how to break a man
I know how to break a man in two

o, by the tiding of my tounge
I lie and sing what can't be unsung
my soul torn in two by the things I say to
you by the things that I say

I know how to break us man, in two

Nets

(19)“Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will make you fishers of men.”
(20) At once they left their nets and followed him.
-Matthew 4:19-20

I'm not sure if many of you have noticed, but I haven't had much to say lately.
I've been in a bit of a funk.
I confess, lonliness, sadness and fear have been my frequent companions here at home.
I knew what was bothering me, but not why it was bothering me so much.
Shirley Jean is ready for solids. Rice cereal.
Now...this is not a big deal. I know. But for some reason, I am really struggling with this milestone. And now I think I know why.
Mid-breakdown tonight, I said to Richard, "I just didn't expect this to be so painful."
He said, "You didn't expect WHAT to be so painful?"
I said, "I watch her grow and change every day, and every day she is getting further away from me."
As I laid on our bed in a pile of tissues, I thought to myself, "God doesn't ever have to feel this way. It's not fair."
What a stupid thing to think. God watches us move further away from him all the time. Some very, very far. Some wander away and wander back. If doing my job as a mother is this agonizing...how much more must it hurt God when we insist on our independence from him? I mean, my job is to help her become independent from me and dependent on God, right?
I think God is allowing me to feel this pain as a reminder of his love for me. He wants me near and wholly dependent on him. He wants me inside of him, just like I long to put my little girl back inside of me where the pain of this broken world can't hurt her.
It further occurs to me that a Wife of Noble Character would not allow herself to be bogged down with sadness and anxiety only to waste time with her precious child. She does not eat the bread of idleness. Nor is she afraid--she can laugh at the days to come! A noble wife would find joy in the development of her thriving baby and celebrate the milestones that increase her independence so that she will one day go out into the world, fully dependent on God, and make fishers of men.
I hope I can remember what God has taught me tonight on that first day of school, on prom night, in her first dorm room, and on her wedding day.
I am caught in a net of my own creation. I will leave it behind and follow Him who so lovingly sustains me.
Will it get easier? I highly doubt it.

p.s. He is especially fond of you.

Vee Bee Ess

Vacation Bible School starts tomorrow morning.

I L.O.V.E. VBS. Love.

I am so excited.

If you think of us, please pray for us. Pray that God would use me and alllllll the other volunteers for His glory in these kids lives. Please pray, also that lives would be changed, that God's spirit would be in every exciting detail, and that our focus will remain on Him.

Thank you, Lord, for the opportunity to serve You in this way.

Please make avery action, word and moment count.

Amen.