Have you ever noticed being a Christian is a lot like being Molly Ringwald in a John Hughes movie?
(Just imagine what it is like for my Hubby... he gets comments like this ALL the time!)
It was like she always had to choose between two guys.
Guy #1- The Bad Boy. You the one I am talking about. Longish hair, earring, flannel plaid shirt, holey jeans, scar somewhere that made his look mysterious. He probably drives a motorcycle and looks darn good doing it. (And yes, I did just describe Judd Nelson in The Breakfast Club. Let us take a moment and remember... Dreamy.)
Guy #2- The Good Guy. Cute, great grades, works hard, the kind of guy you take to meet your parents. He drives an '82 Chevette and wears sensible shoes.
Life with #1 leads you down a path of dirty motels and running from the coppers. Later you find yourself trading cigarettes and candy bars with Big Bertha for protection in prison. (I may or may not have watch a little too much Investigation Discovery this weekend.)
Life with #2 leads to 2.5 children in a nice house, in a nice neighborhood spending the rest of your days holding hands and gazing lovingly at one another.
You know who she SHOULD pick but deep down you want her to pick the Bad Boy. And when she does and that goes to h-e-double hockey sticks in a hand basket, you smugly say "I knew she should have gone with Eric Stoltz in Some Kind of Wonderful!"
And while you may be reliving some really great 80's movies right now, you are probably wondering where in the world this post is going. My Christian GPS may seem a little wonky but I promise it will get us there, eventually.
There is a song by Mercy Me called So Long Self that I love. It is a song of breaking up with your "self". Like Molly having to constantly choose between #1 and #2, we have to choose between doing the right thing or listening to self. You know, that worldly part of you that causes you to make stupid mistakes or say stupid things that later has you seeking protection from a very large scary woman in prison. Or in reality and not my crazy 80's dream world, humbly walking to God and asking him to fix the mess that you have created.
Why is it so easy to pick Judd Nelson over Eric Stoltz, I mean, do the right thing instead of the worldly thing? We know what we should do, we have that voice telling us "Hit the brakes there love chops, you are getting ready to cause some problems!" and yet we ignore it and hit the gas instead. And by gas, I mean opening our mouths and letting hot air come out that should have remained behind the filter of our brain to our mouths. Because the self that we are to die to is so comfortable and so easy that we have a hard time breaking up with it.
Here is the crazy thing, I am beginning to no longer be viewed as the somewhat flaky late teen/early twenties girl I used to be. It seems that as I have "grown up", I have learned a few things that are worth sharing. I know, I am as frightened as y'all are about this. I recently lost my car keys for two weeks and yet, God wants to use me to help lead people to him. Isn't he afraid I may lose them? I know I am. Because I can open my mouth and say one thing to someone that will completely change how they view me, what I do, and why I do it. I have wonderful yet crazy people that come to me for advice. What if I say the wrong thing and it brings them grief or sends them in a direction that is the opposite of where God wants to lead them? Or what if the worldly part of me feels differently than the Godly part of me and she rears her ugly head? Honey do not think for one second that behind every Southern Lady there is not a redneck woman just biding her time, because there is. What if I choose the bad girl over the good girl? Now not only can I cause a mess in my life, I can cause one in someone else's. I could send someone on a run from the coppers and it will be my responsibility to supply them with candy bars and cigarettes.
Galatians 2:20 says:
I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.
Right there in black and white, So Long Self. Again this is where we go back to being Christ like. The whole WWJD thing became cliche with the bracelets and bumper stickers. It is a good question and a good start. But the better question is "Jesus, what would you like for me to do?" How does He want you to proceed? What does He want you to say? Where is He guiding you in this process? Are we taking the time to ask Him? Or are we letting self just take over and insert mouth in foot? Are we allowing self to guide our actions not realizing that people are watching not only what we say but what we do? It is a constant struggle for me and a battle I lose more that I would like. People want to know if we Christians are putting our money where our mouths are. Are we?
I love how God gave us the perfect instruction manual. Maybe I need to tattoo these to my forehead so I remember.
Proverbs 21:23
Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble.
1 Peter 3:10
For “Whoever desires to love life and see good days, let him keep his tongue from evil and his lips from speaking deceit;
Proverbs 4: 23
Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life.
2 Peter 1:4
By which he has granted to us his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire.
love- j
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Boy- You would worry the horns off a brass billy goat
My Deddy said that to me all the time. It usually meant I was worrying him over something I wanted or wanted him to do. You see he was a laid back kind of guy, a bless his heart way of saying he did things when he wanted to do them and at the pace he wanted. I am sitting here trying to think of a time when I ever saw him rushed and I got nothing for you. I cannot remember him panicking, he dealt with things as they came up. He may have thrown a tool or two and let slip a cuss word but panic, no. And yes he called me boy and no he was not confused, he just did. With yesterday being Father's Day, I have been thinking of him and missing him tremendously.
The poor man spent almost 30 years in an old farmhouse with one bathroom and three females. 1 Bathroom and everyone survived!! So when my parents moved, he built a hideout, I mean workshop. It is 2000 square feet and has a pool table, dance floor, bathroom and upstairs bedroom. The man was hiding from fingernail polish, perfume, make-up, break-ups and all things girlie. He had earned it. The thing that always tickled me was my parents called each other. He would be in the man-cave and mama would be in the living room and they would call each other to chat. When my parents bought this house, I was out of the house and married and my sister was grown. Mama could finally get the nice stuff she wanted and not be concerned about us spilling, dripping or dropping. One of the things she got was light beige carpet and threatened deddy within an inch of his life if he got it dirty. And when mama threatens, people listen. You can imagine mama's surprise when one Saturday her phone rings and it is deddy. He tells her he is standing on the deck and that he thinks he needs to go the Emergency Room since he cut his leg. He started the chainsaw while holding it and the kick back caused the chainsaw to "brush" his leg. (I feel I need to stop here and say he was okay and the cut only needed a few stitches. He was good with his hands and tools, but being good caused him to sometimes be careless.) Mama rushes outside sees blood and throws him in the car and off they go. Again, he was okay. When asked why he called her instead of going into the house to get her, his response was "Your mama would have killed me if I had gotten her carpet bloody." See no panicking...
I am sure this would be one of those instances that my mama would say deddy could worry the horns off of a brass billy goat. It probably was not the first time she ever thought it.
I think we all know people that we feel that way about. They drive you cRaZy. It can be someone from work, church, a friend, a friend of a friend or even someone you in which you share an abode. Unfortunately, the world that we live in is not the way God orginally intended. That is a heck of an understatement, isn't it? If the world was as God intended it, it would be perfect and I mean the now unobtainable on this Earth perfect. Excellent and complete beyond practical and theoretical improvement. We would LOVE everyone. Those things that we find annoying, would be adorable. It would be like when you first fall in love ALL the time. You know when squeezing the toothpaste tube from the middle was cute and not the catalyst for World War III. Or when that cute little snort of a laugh she has was ADORABLE instead of eye-roll inducing. Or when the your 6'3" hubby puts all the stuff the 5'3" wifey needs on the tippy top shelf of the cabinet and hides the step stool. Sorry- I had a moment.
It is sometimes very difficult to show the love of Jesus to people that annoy us. Why? Because they ANNOY us. I catch myself being nicer to strangers when shopping than I am with people who see me on a regular basis. I mean if you annoy me in the Target line I have about 5 minutes before one of us will be gone so I can keep that smile on just long enough to show good "Christian" love. You hit 5 minutes and 18 seconds and it may possibly be a different story.
I am not a convential prayer. I have a very conversational approach. I am trying to be better about how I pray because sometimes starting off "Okay Lord, I am having a day." is probably not as reverential as I intend it to be. I do not expect to ever be a thee and thou kind of person but I don't want to be disrespectful. I never mean it as such but just to be on the safe side I am working on it. So I do sometimes catch myself saying- "Lord, this so needs to be all you and not me because if it is all me, we are going to have a hot mess to clean up."
How do we be the Christians we need to be to the people that know which buttons to press, push and stage a ten minute tap dance on? I sure do hope y'all are not expecting me to share some brilliant answer- cause I got nothing. This is one I get wrong all-the-time!!!! I let my frustration get in the way of letting God handle the situation and I make a mess that he has to clean up.
Romans 5:3-5 says
The poor man spent almost 30 years in an old farmhouse with one bathroom and three females. 1 Bathroom and everyone survived!! So when my parents moved, he built a hideout, I mean workshop. It is 2000 square feet and has a pool table, dance floor, bathroom and upstairs bedroom. The man was hiding from fingernail polish, perfume, make-up, break-ups and all things girlie. He had earned it. The thing that always tickled me was my parents called each other. He would be in the man-cave and mama would be in the living room and they would call each other to chat. When my parents bought this house, I was out of the house and married and my sister was grown. Mama could finally get the nice stuff she wanted and not be concerned about us spilling, dripping or dropping. One of the things she got was light beige carpet and threatened deddy within an inch of his life if he got it dirty. And when mama threatens, people listen. You can imagine mama's surprise when one Saturday her phone rings and it is deddy. He tells her he is standing on the deck and that he thinks he needs to go the Emergency Room since he cut his leg. He started the chainsaw while holding it and the kick back caused the chainsaw to "brush" his leg. (I feel I need to stop here and say he was okay and the cut only needed a few stitches. He was good with his hands and tools, but being good caused him to sometimes be careless.) Mama rushes outside sees blood and throws him in the car and off they go. Again, he was okay. When asked why he called her instead of going into the house to get her, his response was "Your mama would have killed me if I had gotten her carpet bloody." See no panicking...
I am sure this would be one of those instances that my mama would say deddy could worry the horns off of a brass billy goat. It probably was not the first time she ever thought it.
I think we all know people that we feel that way about. They drive you cRaZy. It can be someone from work, church, a friend, a friend of a friend or even someone you in which you share an abode. Unfortunately, the world that we live in is not the way God orginally intended. That is a heck of an understatement, isn't it? If the world was as God intended it, it would be perfect and I mean the now unobtainable on this Earth perfect. Excellent and complete beyond practical and theoretical improvement. We would LOVE everyone. Those things that we find annoying, would be adorable. It would be like when you first fall in love ALL the time. You know when squeezing the toothpaste tube from the middle was cute and not the catalyst for World War III. Or when that cute little snort of a laugh she has was ADORABLE instead of eye-roll inducing. Or when the your 6'3" hubby puts all the stuff the 5'3" wifey needs on the tippy top shelf of the cabinet and hides the step stool. Sorry- I had a moment.
It is sometimes very difficult to show the love of Jesus to people that annoy us. Why? Because they ANNOY us. I catch myself being nicer to strangers when shopping than I am with people who see me on a regular basis. I mean if you annoy me in the Target line I have about 5 minutes before one of us will be gone so I can keep that smile on just long enough to show good "Christian" love. You hit 5 minutes and 18 seconds and it may possibly be a different story.
I am not a convential prayer. I have a very conversational approach. I am trying to be better about how I pray because sometimes starting off "Okay Lord, I am having a day." is probably not as reverential as I intend it to be. I do not expect to ever be a thee and thou kind of person but I don't want to be disrespectful. I never mean it as such but just to be on the safe side I am working on it. So I do sometimes catch myself saying- "Lord, this so needs to be all you and not me because if it is all me, we are going to have a hot mess to clean up."
How do we be the Christians we need to be to the people that know which buttons to press, push and stage a ten minute tap dance on? I sure do hope y'all are not expecting me to share some brilliant answer- cause I got nothing. This is one I get wrong all-the-time!!!! I let my frustration get in the way of letting God handle the situation and I make a mess that he has to clean up.
Romans 5:3-5 says
3. And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience;
4. And patience, experience; and experience, hope: 5. And hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us.
Once again the brilliant answer comes straight from the Good Book. Patience. Be patient. It is good for you. "But- Uh- Well" you say. Oh, I get it. I missed class the day God was handing out patience. I also missed the make-up day. But our tribulations make us patient. Patient equals experience. And aren't our experiences good and bad what makes us wiser and stronger? I know one thing for certain, I have seen some amazing things happen from the absolute worst times in my life. Things that made the bad worth it. So maybe if we take time and have patience and put God in the driver's seat with those that drive us crazy, we can see amazing things happen. We will not be ashamed of our actions "because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts".
Now, if you will excuse me I am going to go have a little one-on-one time about this whole patience thing.
love- j
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Oh Thank You! I love it... What is it?
Happy Father's Day!
I started thinking about this post a few weeks ago and started typing it, deleted it and started again. Nothing was working, it was a "meh" post so I stopped. I thought I would say something profound for those of you still blessed with your Fathers and it would make you stop and think how wise she is for sharing that... But it is always the me in the equation that causes problems. So I'll shut up and let God take the wheel. And it turns out this post is about gifts.
I have already spent my morning crying and this is not going to help. So I ask that you please bear with this unpolished, grammatically incorrect post.
God gifted me with being a Southerner and being country. I was raised in a world where my Mama taught us to love EVERYONE the way Jesus loved them, where Jesus was always watching and people did the right thing for no other reason than it was the right thing. Probably because Jesus was always watching. My mama's mama was mamie and my deddy's mama was grandma. My grandma saved scraps of cloth for quilting, washed out and reused ziptop bags and gave you a half a piece of Juicy Fruit in church on Sunday mornings. She gifted me frugality. My mamie took me to the field to pick veggies and canned or froze them. She would put a switch on the dashboard of the car for long car trips and tell us "Don't make me use this." And trust me, we didn't. She made apple jacks and made my childhood summers the, well she made my summers. She gifted me more than I can type on this page. I love them both dearly and I won the lottery with both of my grandmas but my Grandma Edwards was special. I got to spend the night with her and my grandeddy a lot during the summer (probably because I worried the snot out of my parents until they said yes) and I loved every minute of it.
I do not remember my grandeddy being a big talker. My perception of him changed as I got older and realized just how much he had said with his few words and how much of an influence in my life he had been. In my childhood memories I remember him being a very tall, quite man who came home everyday and ate banana sandwiches for lunch. And it has been so long, I cannot remember if they were peanut butter and banana or banana and mayonnaise. He also made a darn good steak on the grill every Friday night and mamie made homemade steak fries. I never remember seeing grandeddy mad with the exception of once. And although at the time it was not funny, it would later get a smile out of him.
Does anyone remember the life-size dolls that when their arms were raised, you could make them walk? I had one. I dressed her in some of my old dresses. She had black patent-leather, round buckle mary-janes and lacy bobbie socks. She also had the ugliest hair cut int world thanks to my self-proclaimed best hairdresser in the world title at age 6. I kept her in the closet when not playing with her and after a few "scares" grandeddy warned me that I needed to keep her where he could see her. Now maybe he should have been a little clearer in his definition of keep her where he could see her, because I thought in the outside storage closet with my mamie's freezer was perfect. Not so much and now may be the perfect time to say I never remember my grandfather cussing but one time and he was a truck driver. The one time he cussed? When he opened the pitch black storage closet to pull out the charcoal and a very human looking dolly with a bad haircut, my clothes and really creepy smile came falling out at his feet. After said cuss word and very loud "MARIE!", I watched from the window as grandeddy escorted her to dolly heaven a.k.a the trash pile. I say escort, it was more like dragged her by her foot and tossed her into the pile but potato/potahto.
More infamous than dolly's trip to the great beyond was dolly's haircut. I had an affinity for short hair was little thanks to my Dorothy Hamill bowl cut. I wanted everyone of my dolls to suffer, I mean, look just like me. So fast-forward a "few" years later to my deddy asking me to cut his hair... He now has chemo hair, it is falling out in some places, growing back-in in some and perfectly fine in others. As we are sitting there Sir-Many-Gaps looks at me and as serious as a heart attack says "Now, don't you gap up my head!" I'm sorry what you just say? Oh ok... He was a funny man and exactly where my warped sense of humor came from. Another amazing gift I glad to have.
You see these are perfect gifts in my life. I may not remember gifts wrapped in boxes with pretty bows but these bring me comfort everyday. Not to go all poetry on you but some days they are warm comfy sweater that keep me warm when everything just seems to be crappy.
I would also like to share with you the best gift I hve ever received. It was a beautiful afternoon in March 2010. I had been nervous because I was driving my Pastor from Raleigh to Rocky Mount to see my deddy. My deddy came to church one Sunday to hear me sing and liked it so much he stayed. He went every Sunday after that he felt like it. Because of that my pastor was in my car with me and I was driving him to Rocky Mount. Now, I am pretty sure causing you beloved pastor bodily harm is a sure fire way of getting excommunicated so, yes, I was nervous. But we made it and that afternoon, I was given a gift that would bring me comfort during the most difficult time in my life. I was seated at deddy's feet, leaning back against his recliner. Pastor Chuck asked him if he would like to pray the salvation prayer and he did. Out loud, in front of us. There would be no denying after that the answer that scares us when we lose a loved one. So my most precious gift is knowing that although he is gone for now, this is only temporary. And yes, I miss him so much it takes my breathe away, this is only temporary. This Father's Day, our third without him, I will miss the hug, the kiss on the cheek and spending time with him but I will find joy the fact that THIS IS ONLY TEMPORARY.
So if you are out shopping today remember, it is not what you buy. It is about putting your arms around them and loving on them. Giving them the gift of memories that weave a warm comfortable sweater that comfort you both.
love- j
I started thinking about this post a few weeks ago and started typing it, deleted it and started again. Nothing was working, it was a "meh" post so I stopped. I thought I would say something profound for those of you still blessed with your Fathers and it would make you stop and think how wise she is for sharing that... But it is always the me in the equation that causes problems. So I'll shut up and let God take the wheel. And it turns out this post is about gifts.
I have already spent my morning crying and this is not going to help. So I ask that you please bear with this unpolished, grammatically incorrect post.
God gifted me with being a Southerner and being country. I was raised in a world where my Mama taught us to love EVERYONE the way Jesus loved them, where Jesus was always watching and people did the right thing for no other reason than it was the right thing. Probably because Jesus was always watching. My mama's mama was mamie and my deddy's mama was grandma. My grandma saved scraps of cloth for quilting, washed out and reused ziptop bags and gave you a half a piece of Juicy Fruit in church on Sunday mornings. She gifted me frugality. My mamie took me to the field to pick veggies and canned or froze them. She would put a switch on the dashboard of the car for long car trips and tell us "Don't make me use this." And trust me, we didn't. She made apple jacks and made my childhood summers the, well she made my summers. She gifted me more than I can type on this page. I love them both dearly and I won the lottery with both of my grandmas but my Grandma Edwards was special. I got to spend the night with her and my grandeddy a lot during the summer (probably because I worried the snot out of my parents until they said yes) and I loved every minute of it.
I do not remember my grandeddy being a big talker. My perception of him changed as I got older and realized just how much he had said with his few words and how much of an influence in my life he had been. In my childhood memories I remember him being a very tall, quite man who came home everyday and ate banana sandwiches for lunch. And it has been so long, I cannot remember if they were peanut butter and banana or banana and mayonnaise. He also made a darn good steak on the grill every Friday night and mamie made homemade steak fries. I never remember seeing grandeddy mad with the exception of once. And although at the time it was not funny, it would later get a smile out of him.
Does anyone remember the life-size dolls that when their arms were raised, you could make them walk? I had one. I dressed her in some of my old dresses. She had black patent-leather, round buckle mary-janes and lacy bobbie socks. She also had the ugliest hair cut int world thanks to my self-proclaimed best hairdresser in the world title at age 6. I kept her in the closet when not playing with her and after a few "scares" grandeddy warned me that I needed to keep her where he could see her. Now maybe he should have been a little clearer in his definition of keep her where he could see her, because I thought in the outside storage closet with my mamie's freezer was perfect. Not so much and now may be the perfect time to say I never remember my grandfather cussing but one time and he was a truck driver. The one time he cussed? When he opened the pitch black storage closet to pull out the charcoal and a very human looking dolly with a bad haircut, my clothes and really creepy smile came falling out at his feet. After said cuss word and very loud "MARIE!", I watched from the window as grandeddy escorted her to dolly heaven a.k.a the trash pile. I say escort, it was more like dragged her by her foot and tossed her into the pile but potato/potahto.
More infamous than dolly's trip to the great beyond was dolly's haircut. I had an affinity for short hair was little thanks to my Dorothy Hamill bowl cut. I wanted everyone of my dolls to suffer, I mean, look just like me. So fast-forward a "few" years later to my deddy asking me to cut his hair... He now has chemo hair, it is falling out in some places, growing back-in in some and perfectly fine in others. As we are sitting there Sir-Many-Gaps looks at me and as serious as a heart attack says "Now, don't you gap up my head!" I'm sorry what you just say? Oh ok... He was a funny man and exactly where my warped sense of humor came from. Another amazing gift I glad to have.
You see these are perfect gifts in my life. I may not remember gifts wrapped in boxes with pretty bows but these bring me comfort everyday. Not to go all poetry on you but some days they are warm comfy sweater that keep me warm when everything just seems to be crappy.
I would also like to share with you the best gift I hve ever received. It was a beautiful afternoon in March 2010. I had been nervous because I was driving my Pastor from Raleigh to Rocky Mount to see my deddy. My deddy came to church one Sunday to hear me sing and liked it so much he stayed. He went every Sunday after that he felt like it. Because of that my pastor was in my car with me and I was driving him to Rocky Mount. Now, I am pretty sure causing you beloved pastor bodily harm is a sure fire way of getting excommunicated so, yes, I was nervous. But we made it and that afternoon, I was given a gift that would bring me comfort during the most difficult time in my life. I was seated at deddy's feet, leaning back against his recliner. Pastor Chuck asked him if he would like to pray the salvation prayer and he did. Out loud, in front of us. There would be no denying after that the answer that scares us when we lose a loved one. So my most precious gift is knowing that although he is gone for now, this is only temporary. And yes, I miss him so much it takes my breathe away, this is only temporary. This Father's Day, our third without him, I will miss the hug, the kiss on the cheek and spending time with him but I will find joy the fact that THIS IS ONLY TEMPORARY.
So if you are out shopping today remember, it is not what you buy. It is about putting your arms around them and loving on them. Giving them the gift of memories that weave a warm comfortable sweater that comfort you both.
love- j
Friday, June 7, 2013
Ooohhhh- You in TROUBLE!
My sister is 7 years younger than me. We have an amazing relationship now but you can imagine what it was like when I was 14 and she was 7 or 17 and 10. I think the only words she knew how to say to me where "Ooohhh- You in trouble." She was always "telling" on me. "Mama- Jody did this." or "Deddy- Jody wouldn't do this." And I somehow managed to be the one to get into trouble, something I am still scratching my head on.
Now this story has nothing to with her getting me into trouble. It's just payback for all those times she did. muahahahahahaha
She Ra Princess of Power was a pretty big cartoon when Sissy was little. So, one day she, Sissy, decided she wanted to fly just like She Ra. Oh the naivete of youth and to be quite honest the creativity. Now I want the picture of this to sink in- cute blonde girl, sheet, roller skates, mini-trampoline and a bunk bed. I probably do not have to finish this story but I am 'cause it's FUNNY!
*Disclaimer- no cute blonde girls were permanently damaged in the living of this story.
So Sissy decides she wants to fly... She ties a sheet around her neck, puts on her roller skates and climbs to the top bunk. Anyone else impressed that she was able to climb a bunk bed ladder in her roller skates? And why the roller skates you may ask? Here was the plan and it was a pretty good one if you ask me. She had put the trampoline on the floor just below the bed. She would jump from the top bunk to the trampoline which would cause her to "fly" for less time than the original Wright Brother's flight. She had put on her roller skates so when she landed, she would just roll away and be "Princess of Power". Just for a moment, stop and think about this... She was 6 or 7 and she had put a great deal of thought and preparation into this plan. She didn't even use one of the good sheets so she wouldn't get into trouble. Ingenious I tell you! But she did not factor in one teeny tiny detail. The teeny tiny size of her bedroom. Yep- she successfully hit the trampoline and then not so successfully hit the wall. By the time we all got to the room she was in a crumpled pile on the floor shaking her head saying "I'm okay, I'm okay."
I bet she looked like those witches you see at Halloween that "flew" into the tree as she slid down the wall. I want y'all to know, she is going to KILL me so there may not be anymore posts. Just know I died laughing because that story is funny!
Anyway, I am writing to tell you, I got in trouble again. This time on Facebook and I have been grounded for 2 weeks because of it... No Candy Crush, no cute baby pictures, no funny posts about my husband singing bad 90's music at the top of his lungs. I have had to sit here an think about what I have done.
I have, what some would call, an interesting sense of humor and a filter between my brain and my mouth that is sometimes defective. If I had a dollar for every time my Mama has said "Jody Lynn, you shouldn't say that!" I would have my feet propped up watching reruns of Designing Women. And that, Ladies and Gentleman, is how I got in trouble. I posted something on Facebook on the anniversary of my Dad's death. It was meant in a joking way but a while later I received a message from a friend. In her message she called me out on how my post could appear to those who do not know me. It was loving, honest and a wake-up call. This was two weeks ago and there has not been a day go by that I have not thought about what she said.
Now, I want to stress something. This person is a true friend. She was there for me when my Deddy died and has been there everyday since. I am blessed to have her in my life. She sent that message out of love and because she felt God leading her to do it. Now when I first read it, I was devastated. I immediately felt like a bad elementary school student whose favorite teacher got on them. Had I lost her respect? Would she look at me differently? Would we still be friends? But I read it again and then third time. And I realized that she was right. I had given the appearance that on one of the most difficult days of my life, I was turning to worldly things instead of Godly things to feel better.
How many of us put on our Sunday best at church? And I am not referring to our clothes. If your church friends were to describe you, would the description be the same as you non-church friends? She used the word witness. I have never thought of myself as a witness. I do not stand on the street corner preaching, I don't stand up in front of everyone and tell my story. But in reality I do every single day... in the grocery store line, at the bank, work, singing with the praise team on Sunday, singing with the carolers at Christmas. Everyday, someone somewhere sees me, my Facebook posts or this blog and sees my witness. Am I doing my absolute best to represent him? The answer is no. I have used the excuse "well that is who I am" to keep doing some things I know He is trying to make better. You see, I am not perfect. I am so far from it. I do not like Christians who put on their Sunday best and make you think they are wonderful, never do anything wrong and never have any problems. They make you think there is something wrong with you because you do. I do not want to be that person. But, in not being that person, I cannot live in my flaws when He is trying to change me. And that is what her message drove home because the message wasn't from her.
Proverbs 14:3 says:
By the mouth of a fool comes a rod for his back but the lips of the wise will preserve them.
Proverbs 12:26
One who is righteous is a guide to his neighbor but the way of the wicked leads them astray.
I do not want you to think I am saying we have to walk around saying thee and thou or smacking people upside the head with our Bibles. But we are Christian, we are to be Christ like in our actions, appearances and words. Let's just ask ourselves "Is that what we are doing?" And can we do it better?
This is going to sound so silly but bear with me- let's take off the Sunday best and put on Godly best.
love-j
Now this story has nothing to with her getting me into trouble. It's just payback for all those times she did. muahahahahahaha
She Ra Princess of Power was a pretty big cartoon when Sissy was little. So, one day she, Sissy, decided she wanted to fly just like She Ra. Oh the naivete of youth and to be quite honest the creativity. Now I want the picture of this to sink in- cute blonde girl, sheet, roller skates, mini-trampoline and a bunk bed. I probably do not have to finish this story but I am 'cause it's FUNNY!
*Disclaimer- no cute blonde girls were permanently damaged in the living of this story.
So Sissy decides she wants to fly... She ties a sheet around her neck, puts on her roller skates and climbs to the top bunk. Anyone else impressed that she was able to climb a bunk bed ladder in her roller skates? And why the roller skates you may ask? Here was the plan and it was a pretty good one if you ask me. She had put the trampoline on the floor just below the bed. She would jump from the top bunk to the trampoline which would cause her to "fly" for less time than the original Wright Brother's flight. She had put on her roller skates so when she landed, she would just roll away and be "Princess of Power". Just for a moment, stop and think about this... She was 6 or 7 and she had put a great deal of thought and preparation into this plan. She didn't even use one of the good sheets so she wouldn't get into trouble. Ingenious I tell you! But she did not factor in one teeny tiny detail. The teeny tiny size of her bedroom. Yep- she successfully hit the trampoline and then not so successfully hit the wall. By the time we all got to the room she was in a crumpled pile on the floor shaking her head saying "I'm okay, I'm okay."
I bet she looked like those witches you see at Halloween that "flew" into the tree as she slid down the wall. I want y'all to know, she is going to KILL me so there may not be anymore posts. Just know I died laughing because that story is funny!
Anyway, I am writing to tell you, I got in trouble again. This time on Facebook and I have been grounded for 2 weeks because of it... No Candy Crush, no cute baby pictures, no funny posts about my husband singing bad 90's music at the top of his lungs. I have had to sit here an think about what I have done.
I have, what some would call, an interesting sense of humor and a filter between my brain and my mouth that is sometimes defective. If I had a dollar for every time my Mama has said "Jody Lynn, you shouldn't say that!" I would have my feet propped up watching reruns of Designing Women. And that, Ladies and Gentleman, is how I got in trouble. I posted something on Facebook on the anniversary of my Dad's death. It was meant in a joking way but a while later I received a message from a friend. In her message she called me out on how my post could appear to those who do not know me. It was loving, honest and a wake-up call. This was two weeks ago and there has not been a day go by that I have not thought about what she said.
Now, I want to stress something. This person is a true friend. She was there for me when my Deddy died and has been there everyday since. I am blessed to have her in my life. She sent that message out of love and because she felt God leading her to do it. Now when I first read it, I was devastated. I immediately felt like a bad elementary school student whose favorite teacher got on them. Had I lost her respect? Would she look at me differently? Would we still be friends? But I read it again and then third time. And I realized that she was right. I had given the appearance that on one of the most difficult days of my life, I was turning to worldly things instead of Godly things to feel better.
How many of us put on our Sunday best at church? And I am not referring to our clothes. If your church friends were to describe you, would the description be the same as you non-church friends? She used the word witness. I have never thought of myself as a witness. I do not stand on the street corner preaching, I don't stand up in front of everyone and tell my story. But in reality I do every single day... in the grocery store line, at the bank, work, singing with the praise team on Sunday, singing with the carolers at Christmas. Everyday, someone somewhere sees me, my Facebook posts or this blog and sees my witness. Am I doing my absolute best to represent him? The answer is no. I have used the excuse "well that is who I am" to keep doing some things I know He is trying to make better. You see, I am not perfect. I am so far from it. I do not like Christians who put on their Sunday best and make you think they are wonderful, never do anything wrong and never have any problems. They make you think there is something wrong with you because you do. I do not want to be that person. But, in not being that person, I cannot live in my flaws when He is trying to change me. And that is what her message drove home because the message wasn't from her.
Proverbs 14:3 says:
By the mouth of a fool comes a rod for his back but the lips of the wise will preserve them.
Proverbs 12:26
One who is righteous is a guide to his neighbor but the way of the wicked leads them astray.
I do not want you to think I am saying we have to walk around saying thee and thou or smacking people upside the head with our Bibles. But we are Christian, we are to be Christ like in our actions, appearances and words. Let's just ask ourselves "Is that what we are doing?" And can we do it better?
This is going to sound so silly but bear with me- let's take off the Sunday best and put on Godly best.
love-j
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Holy Moses!
I have heard that expression all of my life. You normally say it when you are surprised or shocked. It is like an exclamation mark. And saying Holy Moses when you were younger would only get you a stern look where other curse words could get your mouth washed out with soap. I have tasted Zest. It is not pleasant.
In this post I am going to cut right to the chase. I have tried to think of some funny story from my life to tell you before I jump right into the meat of the post but I don't have one. I guess that is what happens when you go on vacation. You shut up long enough to hear God first hand instead of Him having to waltz you around until you get it. Remember the dancing post? Dancing me can take a while.
I named this post Holy Moses because I am referring to Moses. Okay, I am about 18,000 years behind everyone else and am finally sitting down to watch the mini-series, The Bible. Viva Vacation!
But as I am a visual learner, it is helping me with my understanding of the Bible. Tell me how to do something and you sound like Charlie Brown's teacher. Bible on tape is not my best option. Show me and it is a whole 'nother ballgame. One that I am good at, well Hubby said I need to change that from ball game to shopping spree or cooking show. Hey, after 15 years, he knows me. So watching The Bible has helped me quite a bit. Some people have gone from "You know that dude" to "Oh yes, Jacob".
Thanks to Gregory Peck, I had King David down. Having a tangible picture of the story helps me remember the details. I can close my eyes, see it and the rest falls into place. And this is the picture that has struck me the most from this program... Moses standing at The Red Sea with his people beside him and the full force of the Egyptian Army behind him pursuing him like my dog after the dust mop. I am not being trite with that reference, I promise. My sweet, loving, 6 lbs Yorkshire Terrier who lets you take the food out of her mouth turns into Cujo when you whip that dust mop out. She knows where it is kept and growls when she walks past the closet door. When she gets her death grip on that thing, you can lift her off the ground she is holding on so tight. Anyway...
So there you are, you, your people, a sea in front of you and a "large" army who pretty much wants you dead or as their slaves behind you. Now, I ran screaming like a little girl once when the neighbor's dog chased me while out on a walk. I cannot imagine what my response would be looking back and seeing an entire army with my "Wanted Dead or Alive" Poster swinging from the front of their chariot. I do not think my first reaction would be remain calm.
I have heard this story hundreds of times. I remember Sunday School classes, children's Bible stories and sermons about Moses and the Red Sea but it never fully hit me until I watched The Bible. I fully understood the impact in our modern day lives of Moses and this story.
Imagine standing at the beach, your family beside you and every 80's horror movie character chasing you. And honey, children of the 80's had some good horror movie characters. What would you do? I know what my reaction would be- pray for help from God, look for a boat, prepare to fight, step in front of my family to give them a chance to get away. Now my choice sounds right. I would be praying the entire time I was looking for that boat or swinging that weapon. But it is missing the most valuable piece of information. And it took seeing it in a television show to realize it.
Moses had a sea in front of him, terrified people blaming and crying beside him and an army behind him. He stopped, he prayed and he waited. He did not swing, he did not fight, he did not give up. He waited. He waited when every part of his humanness had to be screaming "DO SOMETHING! WE ARE GOING TO DIE!!" and if his humanness wasn't his people sure were. He waited until he heard from God. "Take your staff to the water and I will part the sea." There was no way that was going to work unless it is absolutely 100% God. It was so absolutely grounded in the faith that God loves us and has us in His hand that it had to be from God. And that is what Moses did and I would say it worked out okay for him.
This is the point in my story where I think God leaned back, propped his feet on his desk, looked at an angel and said "Wait for it..." Because in that moment not only did the light bulb come on but Wrigley Field lit up and I realized how important this story was. Yes, a sea being parted is a HUGE deal. Yes, the Israelite people getting to safety was crazy important. But not as important as the simple lesson it is trying to teach us. I have never had a problem as big as the one facing Moses. I have never had an army chasing me while trying to save my people. But I have had problems in my life that seemed insurmountable. And although I am quick to pray, I am even quicker to try and fix it. Leaving out the crucial element, waiting to hear from God. So now, I have made an even bigger mess and then want to get frustrated with God because He messed it up even more when he fixed it the first time. At least that is how I try to spin it in my mind. He had nothing to do with the outcome, I never let him.
I love Psalm 46: 10-11
10. He says "Be still and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations and I will be exalted on the earth." 11. The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.
So my lesson would be regardless of the distractions of our lives, when facing the mountain, the sea or whatever problem has you scared, paralyzed, sad or beat down- stop, pray and wait. Wait for God. He will carry you through and you will be a better person for it.
love-j
In this post I am going to cut right to the chase. I have tried to think of some funny story from my life to tell you before I jump right into the meat of the post but I don't have one. I guess that is what happens when you go on vacation. You shut up long enough to hear God first hand instead of Him having to waltz you around until you get it. Remember the dancing post? Dancing me can take a while.
I named this post Holy Moses because I am referring to Moses. Okay, I am about 18,000 years behind everyone else and am finally sitting down to watch the mini-series, The Bible. Viva Vacation!
But as I am a visual learner, it is helping me with my understanding of the Bible. Tell me how to do something and you sound like Charlie Brown's teacher. Bible on tape is not my best option. Show me and it is a whole 'nother ballgame. One that I am good at, well Hubby said I need to change that from ball game to shopping spree or cooking show. Hey, after 15 years, he knows me. So watching The Bible has helped me quite a bit. Some people have gone from "You know that dude" to "Oh yes, Jacob".
Thanks to Gregory Peck, I had King David down. Having a tangible picture of the story helps me remember the details. I can close my eyes, see it and the rest falls into place. And this is the picture that has struck me the most from this program... Moses standing at The Red Sea with his people beside him and the full force of the Egyptian Army behind him pursuing him like my dog after the dust mop. I am not being trite with that reference, I promise. My sweet, loving, 6 lbs Yorkshire Terrier who lets you take the food out of her mouth turns into Cujo when you whip that dust mop out. She knows where it is kept and growls when she walks past the closet door. When she gets her death grip on that thing, you can lift her off the ground she is holding on so tight. Anyway...
So there you are, you, your people, a sea in front of you and a "large" army who pretty much wants you dead or as their slaves behind you. Now, I ran screaming like a little girl once when the neighbor's dog chased me while out on a walk. I cannot imagine what my response would be looking back and seeing an entire army with my "Wanted Dead or Alive" Poster swinging from the front of their chariot. I do not think my first reaction would be remain calm.
I have heard this story hundreds of times. I remember Sunday School classes, children's Bible stories and sermons about Moses and the Red Sea but it never fully hit me until I watched The Bible. I fully understood the impact in our modern day lives of Moses and this story.
Imagine standing at the beach, your family beside you and every 80's horror movie character chasing you. And honey, children of the 80's had some good horror movie characters. What would you do? I know what my reaction would be- pray for help from God, look for a boat, prepare to fight, step in front of my family to give them a chance to get away. Now my choice sounds right. I would be praying the entire time I was looking for that boat or swinging that weapon. But it is missing the most valuable piece of information. And it took seeing it in a television show to realize it.
Moses had a sea in front of him, terrified people blaming and crying beside him and an army behind him. He stopped, he prayed and he waited. He did not swing, he did not fight, he did not give up. He waited. He waited when every part of his humanness had to be screaming "DO SOMETHING! WE ARE GOING TO DIE!!" and if his humanness wasn't his people sure were. He waited until he heard from God. "Take your staff to the water and I will part the sea." There was no way that was going to work unless it is absolutely 100% God. It was so absolutely grounded in the faith that God loves us and has us in His hand that it had to be from God. And that is what Moses did and I would say it worked out okay for him.
This is the point in my story where I think God leaned back, propped his feet on his desk, looked at an angel and said "Wait for it..." Because in that moment not only did the light bulb come on but Wrigley Field lit up and I realized how important this story was. Yes, a sea being parted is a HUGE deal. Yes, the Israelite people getting to safety was crazy important. But not as important as the simple lesson it is trying to teach us. I have never had a problem as big as the one facing Moses. I have never had an army chasing me while trying to save my people. But I have had problems in my life that seemed insurmountable. And although I am quick to pray, I am even quicker to try and fix it. Leaving out the crucial element, waiting to hear from God. So now, I have made an even bigger mess and then want to get frustrated with God because He messed it up even more when he fixed it the first time. At least that is how I try to spin it in my mind. He had nothing to do with the outcome, I never let him.
I love Psalm 46: 10-11
10. He says "Be still and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations and I will be exalted on the earth." 11. The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.
So my lesson would be regardless of the distractions of our lives, when facing the mountain, the sea or whatever problem has you scared, paralyzed, sad or beat down- stop, pray and wait. Wait for God. He will carry you through and you will be a better person for it.
love-j
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