Accumulation and Identity

I ran across a quote today that really made me think:

“We’ll become what we accumulate the most of. Gather love.” – Bob Goff

Naturally, after reading that quote, I thought, “Hmm. What do I accumulate the most of?” Being a self-proclaimed minimalist (meaning: I try to cut down on clutter as much as possible by giving away excess items to friends/family and donating to the Goodwill so-much-so that they’re probably thinking I work there part-time by now), I didn’t readily think of anything I “accumulate” or have in excess just chilling out around my house.

But then, it hit me. Suddenly, and all at once.

There’s that one box.

Full of that stack of stuff.

Stuff that would make complete and utterly-no-sense-at-all to anyone else looking through it.

Stuff that other people would likely throw away. (Because it’s not suited for them.)

It’s tailored specifically for me.

But it’s not something I’ll ever outgrow, either. (which is probably why I’ve kept it all these years)

---

“What is in that box?” (You may be wondering.)

Letters.

Cards.

Notes.

Hand-drawn pictures.

Memories of times gone past that still bring smiles to my face and laughter into the deepest part of my being.

Words of encouragement and affirmations shared. Some are child-like, in nature, for sure, seeing as how they came from my former “kids”  (a.k.a. students).

Some are funny. (i.e. “This gift is for teachur apprecun week. You are the best speeling teachur ever!”)

Some are serious. (i.e. “Miss Hill, never stop teaching. You picked the right job!”)

Some still bring tears to my eyes, even after all these years. (i.e. “I don’t know what to say about your grandma dying, but I can sit and cry with you.”)

Some still touch my heart in the same way as they did the first day I read them. (i.e. “I SO love you, Miss Hill.”)

No matter the contents or the writer, all these precious artifacts are chalk-full of love.

You see, I used to think for a very long time, that my primary love language was quality time. While I still won’t argue that the absolute best way to get to know and love someone deeply as time goes by is to spend quality time with them, I’m beginning to realize that my “other primary love language” (if that’s even a thing) is words of affirmation.

Over the years, it’s what I’ve kept. What I’ve hung onto. What I’ve accumulated. And what I’ve become.

It’s not about the letters, cards, or pictures. To take it a step further, perhaps, it’s not even about the words used to affirm. Rather, it’s the sweet heart(s) behind those words. The love that I’ve accumulated over the years.

According to Bob Goff, we’ll become the most of what we accumulate.

Examine what you accumulate and what you’re holding on to today, and you’ll get a glimpse of the person you’ll be tomorrow. If you don't like what you see accumulating in your life, make a change. It's never too late. (Plus, I could probably help you out with a route to the Goodwill closest to your home.)

Taken to another and non-material level, God’s Word is full of these types of letters, artifacts, tokens, and symbols of love. His Word is the sum total of His accumulative (if you will) love for us.

Are you taking it in regularly? 

Allowing it to take up residence in your heart, mind, will, soul, and life? 

Are you holding onto it today, so that Christ-like is what you are becoming in all your tomorrows?

Be careful what you accumulate, for soon it's what you identify with and shortly turns into who you become.

In other words, be careful what you collect, for all-too-soon, it collects all of you too.

"For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

God and the Scribbled-Up Coloring Page

As some of you may already know, my sweet husband Jeff and I started recently volunteering in the Cubbies class at church. (not just any Cubbies class, we’re in Cubbies 1…. which means that we have the smallest, youngest, neediest, yet most precious Cubbies that ever existed)

They’re 3-not-yet-4-years-old. These kids are so precious and so little, but already I’m realizing that little kiddos carry within themselves some BIG needs.

Some of them need attention. LOTS OF IT. Some need time, conversation, encouragement, and a confirmation-that-they-matter. Some need simple help doing certain tasks. And some, let’s be honest, just need a spanking. But no matter what BIG needs our little Cubbies walk into the room with on a particular night, they all carry one BIG need in common: they need Jesus.

We all need Jesus.

Although some nights spent in Cubbies 1 can be down-right exhausting, Jeff and I can rest assured that our time spend with them is well-needed because we’re pointing them to the One Who can fill the biggest and deepest needs of their dear little hearts. And hopefully, just by our time spent with them, God is using us to fill some of their other needs as well.

With all the funny things that are said and done in the Cubbies room each night, my husband and I never lack for stories to share. As we’ve been in the Cubbies class for a handful of weeks now, we’re beginning to see the various personalities of the children we “teach.”

Just this past week, I noticed that personalities often come out with the age-old task of coloring. After the lesson each week, Cubbies are given a picture sheet and a tub full of color-crayons to review what they just learned. The Bible verse or the caption on the worksheet is normally something short and sweet, and the picture-to-color is as easy and uncomplicated as they come. {Remember, these kiddos are only 3 years-old.} For the most part, our Cubbies use one or two color-crayons on their papers (although some of them hold fistfuls like “sharing” is simply not an option), use those two choice color-crayons to scribble the mess out of their paper, and then say, “I’m all done. Play now?”

That’s typical 3-year-old-ness, I suppose.

But I’ve noticed that one little boy doesn’t do it that way.

Nope. Not at all.

While most of the other kids are rushing headlong into building blocks and toys, Matthew sits and colors. Not only colors-for-the-sake-of-coloring, I mean this kid has it down. He carefully chooses his color-crayons, making sure his choices make sense with the picture already designed and pre-printed on his page. After making his color selections, he colors his little heart out. Colors, not scribbles. And as he colors, he gives it his all. He spends his undistracted time on completing his picture beautifully, no matter what the other little Cubbies have gotten themselves into.

Insert Important Life Parallel here: What we focus our undistracted time on has potential to result in something beautiful to show for the future.

The more I sat and saw sweet Matthew color his paper, I couldn’t help but have a tons of thoughts rush through my mind.

“Is he older than 3?”

“He has to be.”

“No 3 year-old colors like that.”

“What do you call the opposite of A.D.D.?”

“You call the opposite of A.D.D. ‘Matthew.’ Not a bone in his body is distracted right now.”

“Man, this kid has an incredibly long attention span.”

“Is he always this well-behaved?”

“I wonder what he eats for breakfast, or was he just born this compliant?”

“How do I ensure my babies are like Matthew before they’re even conceived?”

And the list goes on. (But I’ll spare you the rest of my inner thought-a-logue. Haha)

After thinking these thoughts about the difference in Matthew’s picture compared to the vast majority of other Cubbies’ pictures, my heart couldn’t help but to make a spiritual parallel as well.

Every single day of our lives, God (i.e. the Creator of all things, the Giver of life, and the Maker of every single day of our lives) in essence hands us a coloring paper for the day. On it, He has His bold black lines that show where you should color and where you shouldn’t. Not to sound legalistic about it, but there are certain things Christians should do, and there are certain things Christians just should not do. Those things are clearly outlined in God’s Word, if only we will take the time each and every morning to read it carefully for understanding, look at it intently for application, and memorize it readily for satisfaction. Just as the lines of a coloring page do not force the crayons where they should go (they simply provide a guideline for the most beautiful outcome), so too God does not force His children to enjoy His Word or to read His Word or to obey it. He simply provides us with the guidelines that will make the most beautiful outcome.

After all, He created us. He loves us. He knows how we work and what works best for us. It’s time for us, as Christians, to stop scribbling all over the plan God designed us for and rushing to run towards every block and toy on the shelf that this world has to offer us. Sure, they may bring temporary relief or a fleeting form of happiness every once in a while. But friends, we weren’t made for scribbles and distractions. We were created to reflect the beauty of God.

Trace back to the time you were 3, I wonder which kind of Cubby would you be?

Spiritually speaking, which kind are you today?

Remember, what we focus our undistracted time on has potential to result in something beautiful to show for the future.

Make sure the masterpiece of your life reflects the lasting beauty of the Lord and not the fleeting attractiveness of the options of this world.

Simultaneously Proud and Humbled

You know, over the course of the last handful of years, I’ve noticed that my blog has taken quite the different direction(s). Mainly, because my life-story has taken on new directions, experienced new adventures, and uncovered new lessons to be learned all along the way.

Today, as I went about my daily routine, I realized how lucky I am. Actually, luck has nothing to do with it. I recognized, truly, amidst all the life-change, the redirections, and the varied transitions, how blessed I am.

For me, the moment came today when I saw my sweet husband’s army fatigues in the house.

In that self-same moment, I realized how very proud I am of him, the man he is, the heart he has, the 

way he serves our country, and the way he loves me so ridiculously well. At the same time, I became deeply humbled - to the point of tears – that God chose me to be his wife. Seriously, of all the women in the world that it could have been, it’s me. And only me. And always me. There’s something deeply electrifying about being chosen. Chosen by my husband, yes, of course. But more than that, I've been chosen by my God. He’s chosen me to fulfill this role, for the rest of my life on Earth. Man, He’s good to me.

Think about your spouse, kids, family-back-home, position in life, job, education, ministry, etc. God has specifically and strategically chosen you for that role. No, that’s right, He didn’t choose your neighbor or your best friend. He didn’t chose the person-down-the-road (that seemingly has it all together). He chose YOU.

Whatever your task-at-hand or role-of-the-moment may be, don’t wish it away, try to pawn it off on someone else, or lose your life-joy to a million different comparison games in your mind. (We've all been there before, and no one really wins in comparison-games-of-the-mind.)

God is good. And He showers His goodness upon us through His Son Jesus Christ, first and foremost. Every day, He continually showers blessings and sprinkles blessings-upon-blessings in our lives through the positions we hold, the families we have, and the various other relationships and hobbies we build up throughout the course of our limited time here on Earth.

In just those few moments today, as I was just sitting on my couch and reflecting over my day and my life's direction, I experienced the place where being proud and being humbled collide, and I can tell you that it’s a beautiful thing.

If you’re an American, it’s safe to say, you truly lack nothing.

If you’re a Christian, it’s easy to recognize how very blessed you are.

If you look around long enough and think hard enough, it’s easy to find things in your own life that specifically make you proud – and yet humble you – at the very same time.

I wonder….what is it in your life that makes you simultaneously proud and humbled today?

Wisdom: The God-Given Ability of "Seeing Beyond"

If you’ve read the 1990’s Children’s award-winning novel, The Giver, written by Lois Lowry or you’ve taken the time to see the recent theatre-box rendition of it, then you’ll know what I’m talking about when I use the phrase seeing beyond.

It’s nothing mystical or oddly-spiritual. It’s simply the ability some (few!) of the characters in the book/movie were born with that enables them to see things other people don’t see. They’re tuned into things like color, for example, when the rest of the world is merely seeing black-and-white. It’s an interesting skill to have, this seeing beyond.  It’s actually quite cool to have an advantage like that over the others. But this ability must be exercised and revealed with caution. For with much privilege comes much responsibility.

Just as recently as yesterday, two distinct situations came across the lives of two people that are very dear to me. And they soon, as you can imagine, came to my attention as well.

The first situation hit a dear friend of mine, unexpectedly, in the midst of her regular classroom duties nonetheless, as one high school student (a girl) decided to go into full-force-fight-street-club-mode on another student (girl). My friend didn’t plan that into her lesson plans. No sane person would. My friend didn’t wake up that morning thinking, “Hey I think I might have to stop a fist-fight in reading class today.” No one thinks like that. In fact, I’m all but guessing my friend didn’t even have a clue what was happening until the moment when it all hit home (quite literally).

No teacher should ever have to deal with that.

The second situation came across the desk of my dear sweet little sister yesterday when she found out a co-manager decided to take the life of his girlfriend, and she’d been reassigned to cover his store today, be involved in the ministry of the presence, and help all those people who worked underneath his care to cope with getting through today. My sister didn’t plan for this to happen. No one saw this coming. Just last week, that same man was sitting across the desk of my sister - in her very own office - in a meeting. Who could know?

No 25-yr.-old manager should ever have to shoulder that amount of stress.

These aren’t the only two instances of broken people colliding inside this imperfect world we live in, but they’re the most recent accounts. And the ones that currently hit the closest to home. And to the people close to my heart.

Both situations will require these two sweet ladies in my life to exercise a bit of the power to see beyond, or what we as Christians commonly call wisdom.

There’s no college course that addresses the raw need for human love and acceptance, or a textbook that explicitly outlines steps to take when those basic functions of stability are lacking. There’s no classroom management techniques that can bound the aching of the human soul. Sure, it comes out in more identifiable ways, like fist-fights. But the underlying issues are complex, are sometimes difficult and messy to unravel, and requires more knowledge than any author could possibly publish. It requires wisdom, love, and acceptance that can only come from God Himself.

Closely related, there’s no management style or leadership course that addresses how to console workers after they’ve found out their manager, though maybe good at managing his store, has so sorely mismanaged his anger and his personal life that it’s led him to a decision that is of the utmost unthinkable – murder. The underlying issues behind that all-encompassing anger, the need for love and acceptance, the raw ache of the human soul for the Divine, can only be fully addressed and satisfied through a relationship with Jesus Christ. And the way my sister will be able to walk into that situation with any sort of hope and comfort to those around her is because of the God-given wisdom and the words she will be granted to say by Him, as she walks and talks with the co-workers today.

With all said, my heart is heavy. And yet, hopeful.

Our world is broken, people.

Our world is broken people.

Our broken world needs broken people, like you and me, who love the Lord, to show them Hope.

How He heals.

How He redeems.

How He loves.

We need Him in handling the messy situations and messed-up people (we’re all messed-up people) that come into our path.

We need His Words.

We need His truth.

We need His grace.

We need His wisdom.

In other words, we need the ability to see beyond.

With His help, how can you see beyond current circumstances, touch a hurt, and heal a soul today?

Remember, not everyone around you has this special “ability”. You may be the only one in your family, workplace, edge of the world, etc.

But God has placed you there strategically for a reason.

He has a purpose for putting you there in that hurting place.

He has a unique story to tell through you leaning into Him for wisdom, exercising your ability to see beyond.

With this privilege comes great responsibility.

What are you doing to receive or exercise Godly wisdom today?

The Vapor-Rich Life

Today, as I drove along my usual winding path (that is the only escape-route out of my apartment complex), I passed several of the same landmarks that I always do. But today was different because God spoke to my heart as I drove. You see, at one point in my journey, I passed by a church on my left side and simultaneously passed a funeral home on my right side. It may be a stretch of your imagination to go here with me; but in my mind and in my car-ride, I felt a tension between life and death in those few moments on the stretch of road winding between the two buildings.  [I would dare say if you were riding shotgun in the passenger’s seat, you may have felt the same thing.]

Why?

Well, a church building is a symbol of hope and life, amongst others. While a funeral home is nothing short of a symbol of death. (It reminded me of the passage in Deuteronomy 30:15-19, where life and death are sitting in front of God's people as a choice to be made; and God urges them to choose life, so that future generations may live.) On the road between the two, God reminded me today that life on Earth is oh-so-fragile. It is a vapor. It’s quick. It’s fast. It’s not meant to last. This Earth is definitely not a long-term destination. For anyone.

This has been especially evident to my heart, mind, and life recently.

Within the past couple of weeks, life has hit me by surprise. (An interesting expression, I know… as if I’m the one in control of planning all of life…) But it’s true that if you’re anything like me, we always plan for life to go one way; and when it turns out completely different, we always feel surprised. Sometimes, unnerved or shocked. Sometimes, overwhelmingly blessed. But always, always surprised.

Within the past couple of weeks, a dear missionary friend, in her early twenties, got word that her father had a heart attack and passed from life here on Earth to life in Heaven with Jesus. Just. Like. That. Such a sweet, Godly man he was here on Earth. He added so much laughter and life to those that knew him. His love for the Lord wasn’t just evident in his life. It was his life. He was the real deal. Waves of grieving have definitely swept across lives due to the loss of this amazing man, but I can just imagine the dancing that accompanied his arrival into Heaven.

A couple days to a week later, I heard a precious student of mine, one I had taught in my very first year of teaching at LCA nearly six years ago, had taken his own life. No explanation. No note. And he passed from life here on Earth to life in Heaven with Jesus. Just. Like. That. Such a sweet child with a happy heart. A precious soul that professed Christ as his Savior from an early age. (I can still hear his little belly-giggle, as if he were still a 9-year-old in my classroom.) Hurt and questions linger here on Earth, but happiness, hope, and answers fill up the Heavens, as Braxton walks with Jesus now. Literally.

Without the hope we have in Jesus, these two situations would be simply incomprehensible, inescapable, and immobilizing to dwell upon. But with Jesus as the only true Hope this world has, we can rest assured that there is more to come – so much more to come – after this vapor of life called Earth has run its course.

Not really related to that is this:

Quite a few years ago, I went through this time period where I sincerely wondered what I was doing with my life. My college was coming to an end, and I just didn’t know what the next steps “should” be. I think everyone comes to that point in life (especially in the midst of your young-to-mid-twenties). It was during that time that God not just showed me this verse, but truly taught my heart experientially what it meant. The verse is John 10:10b, “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”

Even now, as I look closer at that verse, I realize that the entire verse reveals more of a truth than just part of it does. John 10:10, in its entirety, reads like this, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”

There are so may unexpected events that happen (and will continue to happen) within the course of our lives here on Earth. The thief (a.k.a. Satan) will do everything in his power to steal, to kill, and to destroy things in your life. And sometimes, he may be seemingly successful in one arena or another in your life or in the lives of the ones you love, but know this: Jesus came to give life. Abundant life. Life-to-its-fullest. Even amidst surprises and shock and loss and death, Jesus brings life, hope, and a reason to keep on going.

No matter what has hit your life/heart recently, remember this to be true: Life is a vapor, yes. But every-single-moment is a miracle.

Every breath is a grace-act of God on your behalf, to let you keep going and keep living out His plan and His purposes for your life.

Every day is a day He’s made for us to rejoice and be glad in it.

Today, no matter what unplanned scenes have entered your life, choose to give thanks to God in the good.

Beckon Him in the bad.

Communicate with Christ amidst the common.

Tell others about your struggles, but also don’t forget to share with them that victory always comes through the Savior Who delights in giving us abundant life.

Life is frail, sometimes touch-and-go, and like a vapor.

Life with Christ is always, always, always vapor-rich. 

Circumstances may be different, but the choice for all of us is the same.

We don't choose how much time we're given here on Earth, but we can choose how to live the amount of time and life we are graced with.

Choose life. The abundant kind that Christ came to offer.

Choose to live out your calling and abundant life in Christ, so that Christ may be glorified and so that future generations may live.

Stay-at-Home Wife Status (Painful to Write, Freeing to "Publish")

     I've been married nearly two months now (Whew! Where does the time go?!) and have not made the time to post on my blog in what seems like, (in the words, voice, and inflection of the beloved Gru), "Forever!" 

      Some days, I'm just too busy with finding delight in accomplishing daily chores/tasks and/or crafting, creating, fun times, and memory-making. Other days, I'm honestly just too lazy to capture all of my thoughts, collect them together, and string them into something that makes any semblance of sense to anyone outside of my little mind, self, "kingdom" (a.k.a. my house), and world.

    But I've wanted to give some updates and some clarifications on the recent updates in my life for those of you that are naturally curious, personally concerned, or simply lacking better things to read at the moment, so here goes:

    As many of you know, I'm now embarking on a new (very unpopular, might I add) journey. I am a stay-at-home wife. You read that right. (For those of you already asking the fast-forward-questions-of-a-lifetime, No, Jeff and I are not expecting babies anytime soon. <insert smiley face, but careful-not-to-make-it-a-winky-face emoticon here>) I'm a resident-stay-at-home wife. Not a mom. Just a wife. Not currently working anywhere outside the home, but staying inside. At home. With no kids. All day long.

    To some of you (if you're anything like me), that sounds completely awesome, right? All day long just to sit back and relax, to cook and clean, to learn and create, to grow in wisdom and favor with the Lord, and to give my husband something happy to come home to every single day. (Yay!!)

     To others of you, you're judging me right now. Right this very second, you are. I know it, and you need to stop it. (I tease, I'm not really upset.) But I know I am getting judged for this life move because it grates against the norm, and I know what you're thinking because I've felt the looks. I get the ill-responses. I've even thought some of the same thoughts that some of you are thinking right now. "Plenty of other women manage households and carry a full-time job. You don't even have kids, so what exactly is it that you do all day?!" 

    I'll give you that. If I'm completely honest with you, about two days out of the week so far, I've been bored to the brink of tears. It's on those two days that I look around my house, and everything is immaculately clean. Laundry and dishes are done and put away. Meal planning, couponing (give me a crockpot, and I've become my mother), and shopping all are done for the week. Dinners and desserts are pretty much making and baking themselves these days. {Fun PSA: I make enough spaghetti-pasta and chocolate chip cookies on a regular basis to keep everyone in this household fed, fat, and sassy.} And all is right with the world. In my world. In my house.

Yet somehow, on a few days out of the stay-at-home-work-week, I find myself... 

Bored. 

Lonely. 

Still. 

"Bored" is nothing more than a waste of time. Don't judge. We all do it from time to time, but I'm working on my personal time management and creating things with my free time instead of toiling it away. (Perhaps, a book or an Etsy shop will show up with my name on it, one of these days...) 

"Lonely" is simply a waste of relationship potential, so I'm building new friendships in the area whilst sending cards, letters, and all sorts of encouraging-love-via-USPS to old (vintage?) friends who are far away. 

"Still" is the word that our culture simply cannot handle. And at first try-me-out, I found that I couldn't handle it. Thankfully, I'm coming along okay with it now, only 7 weeks in (and going strong!). There's nothing to it, yet everything right with it at the same time. A lot of planning goes into just simply being "still." It's a beautiful habit to get into, yet one that isn't cherished, held, or appreciated as often as it should be, especially in our Western culture. 

{Busy is oftentimes viewed and valued as better, but along the way (if we aren't careful!) it can make us bitter.} 
   
           Note: Being "still" is MUCH DIFFERENT than being "idle." "Still" is  beautiful and wise and (dare I say?) God-honoring. "Idle" is plain foolish. It opens the door for all sorts of spiritual attack. And really, it's a whole other world to explore in another blog and after more thought on its harmful side-effects (physically, emotionally, socially, spiritually, etc.).... Ok, ok, I'm grabbing the rabbit and getting off the trail now.... 


       Here we go. Where was I? Ahhh, yes. The looks. The stares. The "oh that's (not really) so nice" remarks about being a stay-at-home wife. The judgement. The unasked questions.

       I know, I know, after 8 years of college, a Master's degree in education, and 6 years of full-time classroom teaching in two of the biggest Southern Baptist mega-church Christian day schools this side of the Mississippi, why would I leave? There are many, many, many contributors to making this decision. All of which I won't go into in this post, but if you truly want the full and unedited version, simply ask my sweet momma all about it. She knows. And she'll talk. :-)

     For the sake of this post, I'll simply solidify it down to two main reasons. One is personal. The other, Biblical.

     #1. I quit teaching and entered into this new stay-at-home wife status because teaching quickly became my all-exhaustive-(and boy was it exhaustive!!)-identity. Anything other than 1,000% identity in Jesus Christ alone is shaky and scary and plainly just not worth it. So, for me, teaching had to go.

               In addition and in close relation to that, my sweet husband Jeff and I talked it over, and we simply couldn't reckon bringing that much stress into our fresh, new, ripe-young marriage. You see, for me, teaching was not just a job I held. It was a lifestyle. An all-consuming, every day, left-no-room-for-anything-else affair. It was wonderful when I was single; after all, what else would I do with my time? But it took getting engaged-and-married for me to realize that for a long time, I was biting off way more than any one person could possibly chew, and I simply had to sit back and come to grips with the fact that I was choking under all the pressure, not receiving the personal, spiritual, and social nutrients that were needed for a healthy life outside of the classroom walls. If Jesus wanted the identity I made for myself in teaching, I surely wanted to give it to Him, let Him fill in all the gaps where He may, and honor Him in my new slower-paced lifestyle.

[end scene.]
Curtain closes.

    #2. I found this verse and have very recently adopted it into my new stay-at-home wife life.

"The wisest of women builds her house, but folly with her own hands tears it down."

                                                                     ~Proverbs 14:1, ESV

Last time I checked, it takes a ton of time, money, dedication, supplies, and expertise-know-how to build a real house. And that's just mortar and bricks, people! Imagine how much more of a sacrifice it is to build genuine, God-honoring relationships within a family structure (a.k.a."house") while simultaneously doing all the nitty-gritty's that it takes to successfully "run" a household. It takes a work of the Lord's Spirit to do it all, and to do it all well. And that's what I want. Really, it's all I've ever wanted. I want wisdom that comes from the Lord. Wisdom that only comes through the stillness we plan for in our lives. With that wisdom from the Lord, I want to build my house. To build it, like the wise man did, on the Rock. Safe. Secure. And built well. 

So that's it. That's (one of) the reason(s) I'm a stay-at-home wife.

Not so others can look in and say, "How do you get your house so spotlessly-clean?!"

Or, "Wow, I didn't know one household (of only 2 people, mind you) could possibly consume all that spaghetti, chocolate chip cookies, etc.!"

Those accolades are far too trivial to live and move and breath by.

Ultimately, I'm a stay-at-home wife, so that God would infiltrate the stillness, restore my identity in Him, and establish the Hazard house as one that is built well, for now and for generations to come.

A Fresh, New Start(er) #thewifelife

For most people, a wedding day and a honeymoon week are days, times, experiences, and memories-made that will never be forgotten. For me, I became lucky enough to not only marry the world’s most wonderful man, have a beautiful wedding day, a wonderful honeymoon, and memories made to last an entire lifetime; but I also got to be gifted with the stark reality of “real life” on the very day our official “honeymoon” was over, so much that I was literally in need of a fresh, new start(er).

Allow me to explain.

Jeff and I enjoyed quite the wonderful week, following our impeccably- smooth-going wedding day, of official honeymooning in the quiet, nature-esque area known as Stone Mountain, Georgia. Very quickly, Jeff and I became very fond of the quiet and secluded characteristics of our resort (so much that Jeff made a song of it… another story, another time), yet we also enjoyed its proximity to the not-so-quiet, “the-world-is-coming-to-Atlanta”ness within a short notice’s driving distance. We quickly made ourselves at home, as we took advantage of all the niceties and perks that Atlanta had to offer us on pretty much every day we honeymooned there. Though the actual wedding day felt like a blur, the honeymoon week we shared was absolutely perfect and seemingly endless.

On the very first full day we arrived back in town in Lynchburg from our honeymoon, I began feeling very sick and soon realized that the regular (and irregular) mishaps of everyday life didn’t stop because Jeff and I were now married; rather, they were simply nice enough to pause while we honeymooned. Attempting to make a quick trip to Bed, Bath, and Beyond and Target that day to finish off buying some items from our left-up registry, Jeff and I piled in the car – my lovely 2003 Toyota Corolla – and headed on our way. No sooner had we finished our quick shopping trip than my car decided to stop working. Literally. Would. Not. Start. [Oh, and I failed to mention it was HOT that day. And yes, remember, I was feeling quite sick.]

A few Target icees, a wasted hour of our sweet married life, and an $80 towing truck bill later, Jeff and I found ourselves in the sweet air conditioning of our little-newlywed-apartment-suited-just-for-two. And we found ourselves grateful to have each other to go throughout all of life’s messes with–

Fast forward.

I got over my feelings of sickness, as one often does, and returned to the daily necessities and duties of my everyday life. It quickly became apparent that my little Corolla was in a ridiculous need of a new starter. Once in the shop for a new starter, we also acknowledged the need for a variety of services the Corolla was due for and decided to splurge upon rising to the occasion to fix them all in one fell swoop.

That’s when the little writer-voice inside of me starting thinking (and typing).

My car didn’t just stop and sit dead on me one day out of nowhere. It gave me warning signs along the way. Some went undetected, for sure. Others, ignored. And still some, “yeah I’ll get around to checking that out.” But on that dreadful day in the Target parking lot, nothing budged. Literally.

Once we acknowledged the need for a new start(er), the unveilings and remembrances of other “fixes” came to mind, were clearly exposed, and were properly fixed.

This rude awakening and introduction to married life via broken-down-car-madness made me wonder, “Is there anything else, any area of my life, in need of a serious fresh, new start?” Maybe an old friendship that could be revived. Perhaps a new skill or job to be pursued. A fresh perspective and attitude with which to approach my little corner of the world, possibly. Extra time with God not merely to “make sense of it all,” but to simply let all marinate into my mind what He’s done by grace and what He’s up to next, right around the corner, of this dear, sweet life I get to have and enjoy having, moment by moment, day by day.

Because of my silly story, I wonder the same about you. Is there some evidence in your life that something is in need of a fresh, new start? Maybe it’s something you haven’t even had the time or energy to notice yet, but it’s there. Not in the back of your mind yet, but lingering in the background scenes of your life. Maybe it’s something you’ve been ignoring, saying, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ll get around to doing that later.” But later never comes; and apathy, busyness, and/or misery become a three-fold tribe of your new dearest friends.

Wherever you find yourself in this journey today, at the very least entertain the answers to these questions to determine what you can do to gain a fresh start in specific areas of your life. If not, I can already hear the sounds of a tow truck about an hour’s distance away. And who knows what that’ll end up costing you...

Living "Fixed" instead of Being Broken

Why do we want to live the façade of a life “fixed” instead of admitting our brokenness?Let’s go ahead and get this out of the way… We’re all broken.

All of us.

Each and every one of us.

Every single one of us.

The Bible clearly teaches us that ALL have sinned. That means me, you, the sweet little grandma figure you idolize, and every one in between.

We’re in shambles. We’re just not right. We’re broken.

Growing up, I used to think I had the perfect life, the perfect family, the perfect everything…. I must have been God’s favorite or something because it was really ridiculous how perfect my life was.

Or seemed. How perfect my life seemed.

There’s a world of difference between what “was” and what “seemed” to be so.

Now, I’m not negating the fact that God extra-blessed my with a huge family full of wonderful people that do love Him, but let me set the record straight. We’re not perfect, and it took me a lot of grown-up years to figure that out.

But the problem is this: it’s not just my family. If yours is made up of people, yours isn’t perfect either. None of ours is.

And you wanna know another secret? We’re horrible about hiding it.

We grow up in church, Sunday after Sunday, and pretend we’re all okay. Pretend we’re all “fixed.” We all got saved when we were six-and-a-half or rededicated our lives at a throw-your-stick-in-the-camp-fire service, and no one seems to need Jesus anymore. We’ve got it all together on our very own little lonesome.

No one wants to be broken, or even appear to be broken. But several years of Sunday smiles and plenty of potlucks later, we’re still desperately broken people. In case you didn’t know it already, God didn’t send his Son Jesus to come and die for the church person who didn’t need anything more than a second helping of potato salad.

He died for the sinners amongst us, which is, ALL of us. We’re broken. We’re frail. We need Him. Every day and every minute within each day He gifts us with.

The church oftentimes teaches us how not to mess up because that’s intolerable, but God’s message is quite the anti-thesis. He’s whisper-shouting to us all that WHEN we mess up (not IF we mess up), when we go against His will and perfect plan for our lives, and when we sin against His Holy Name, that His love is greater still.

This does not give us a license to sin more and more, but an opportunity to see how very ridiculously broken we are before Him.

How very much we need Him.

How very much we should not be able to do anything else but love Him with all the moments of our dear-little-lives in return.

How we all need to stop living and acting like we’re already “fixed” and perfect, when really we need to come to the realization that we’re all broken.

And we do have a God Who specializes in redeeming brokenness.

I wonder what would happen if we all embraced the true reality that our “perfection” is an arch-enemy to God’s redemption.

I wonder what would happen if we all acknowledged that (collectively and individually) we’re broken, we still need Jesus (desperately so).

I wonder what would happen if we stopped playing games in church services and began helping one another truly learn how to love Him more in light of His love for our brokenness…

The Wonder-full Life

The Wonder-full Life

I’m not even two days into my break from school for the summertime and my relief from all duties related to classroom teaching for quite-the-while, and what to I find myself doing? That’s right. I’m teaching. Only this time, I’m teaching myself new things.

As a modification to the old saying goes, “You can take the teacher out of the classroom, but you can’t take the lessons out of the teacher.” Ok, so that isn’t a modification to an old saying. I pretty much made it up on the spot. It’s only thirty seconds old. You’re welcome. Old or new sayings aside, it’s true that the lessons a teacher-at-heart gives and shares oftentimes extend far beyond the classroom walls and go on to embracing, altering, and inspiring another soul for the long haul.

Just two days ago, I became decidedly anxious to learn about all-things-domestic that I don’t yet know about (which I’m learning is pretty much everything). Cooking. Cleaning. Sewing. Building and crafting things for the house. And the list could go on and on. Immediately upon the dawn of my curiosity and anxiousness to learn all-things-domestic, do you know what I discovered?

I discovered this:

Life, like this, is wonderful. And it’s wonder-full. There are so many things I don’t know, but will soon learn. There is much to be mastered and much to be learned from things I can’t and won’t ever master. Life is a give and take of trial and error. There’s so many things to know and learn and see and do. I can’t possibly take it all in at once, else it overwhelms me for the negative instead of inspires me for the positive.

But life isn’t only this wonder-full in the domestic realm. I would argue that it’s like that in every realm of life. (At least in every aspect we give a chance to prove full of wonder, we shall soon see that life indeed is wonderful.)

Don’t believe me? Let’s try this aspect of life on for size: Relationships. Every person you know is full of wonder, curiosities, inspirations, ideas, dreams, successes, failures, stories of each, and lessons to be learned of both and all. Every person who chooses to enter a relationship with you, be it family members, co-workers, dear friends, acquaintances, or what have you, creates with you another mystery (the mystery of relating and relationship-forming). And guess what? It’s also uniquely full of wonder.

To bring it further home, Jeff and I are at a beautiful point in our relationship. We are just so very much in love. In two weeks, we will be married and will forever live upon this Earth as God intended us to be, as man and wife. There’s so much we’ve yet to learn and experience. Successes and failures will soon come knocking on our door, begging for our time, energy, heart’s affections, and the very essence of who we are going to be as a couple. My life as Mrs. Hazard, with my sweet, good man Mr. Jeff Hazard right by my side, will be filled of so much wonder. I pray I never lose the wonder of this beautiful blessing of relationship.

(Throughout my few days spent at home this week, my mind has been reeling with so many different aspects of life that are filled with wonder and are truly wonderful, but I’ll spare you of all of my inner thoughts. For now.)

Another, more eternal aspect of life that is indeed wonder-full is God’s grace. Talk about something I’ll never know the full depths of or understand the details and motives behind, and we’ll quickly get to the areas of God’s love and His grace. Worship band Passion recently produced an album entitled, “Take It All.” On it is a song by Matt Redman called “Mercy.” One of my favorite lyrics appears in the chorus, and it goes like this:

     “May I never lose the wonder,

      oh, the wonder

      of Your mercy.

      May I sing your Hallelujah.

      Hallelujah, Amen.”

If you’d like to explore the song in full detail, here it is for you.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8z98MK1aqyg

In all my ramblings today, the bottom line is this: Life is full of wonder, and when I really sit back and ponder God’s grace, I realize that all in this life is undeserved. He doesn’t have to do for me what He does. Beyond exempting me from eternal punishment in Hell through the sacrifice of His Son, Jesus, on the cross, He increasingly blesses me ever-so-much and ever-so-daily with things like relationships and love and housework and various opportunities for growth. The very things I sometimes complain about, get caught up in, and discard as commonplace or unwanted.  Those are His gifts to me. Those are evidences of His mercy in my life. Why I complain about His gifts of little-daily-disguised-mercies, I’ll never know. But I do know this: this life that’s so full of wonder is wonderful indeed.

Today, make a list of the wonderful things in your life.

And decidedly determine to never lose the wonder it all.

The "Grape Lollipop" God

 

When I was younger, my siblings and I very quickly learned which errands to go on with my mom and which errands to run far away from. The one errand in particular I want to share with you this morning is when my mom would go up to the bank. Now, I don’t believe this bank is in business any longer; but back in the 90s, my mom would go to the drive-through teller at Barnett Bank. Whenever you went to the drive-up teller at Barnett Bank, they would give out lollipops to the kids in the car, which is probably while they’re no longer in business today because the Hill kids depleted them of their lollipops back in the 1990s.
 

But seriously, mom would pack all of us in the car, she’d talk with the bank teller, she’d get her envelope full of money, and they’d ask how many kids were in the car… she’d say 5. They’d say “send back some of the money to cover the cost of all those lollipops, lady.” No just kidding. But on those bank errands, everything was fine. Things went surprisingly well. There were 5 of us kids, and 5 lollipops. Everyone got one. No one fought over the flavor they got. All was well in the world, and all was well in the back of the Hill family station wagon as we began to drive away. Everyone was happy. And everyone was thankful. EXCEPT ME.

If I happened to get the purple lollipop, otherwise known as the grape-flavored lollipop, I would pitch a royal fit. I would complain. Though my mom would try to console me, and say, “Rosemary, they didn’t have to give you anything. Be thankful for what you do have,” it didn’t work. And I would pout. I would make myself and everyone in the car absolutely miserable. I would say things like, “I don’t want this. Why are they giving me this. How come they didn’t give this to someone else?”

Now, I share that story with you today because even though it was a long time ago ,and it was very childish of me and is somewhat embarrassing to share with you, I realize now that the people at the bank gave me something out of the kindness of their hearts. My mom was right. They didn’t have to give me anything, but they gave it to me because they meant it for my good. After all, what child does not like candy? What could have been and should have been a sweet ending to a story was turned completely upside and sour because of me. The problem was not in what was given; rather, in the reaction to what was given. What was going on around me didn’t agree with what was going on inside of me.

Bringing it closer to home for all of us….
 

Now I tell you that story to tell you this: even as an adult, I sometimes wrongfully view God as the “grape-lollipop” God.

And what I mean by that is: anything and everything God gives us aside from salvation is already too much. Salvation in itself it way more than any of us deserve.

God gives us things in life. Just like the bank gave my mom all those lollipops out of the kindness of their hearts, God gives us things out of the goodness of Who He is and the kindness of His heart. If it’s something that is difficult or hard times or something I didn’t plan on, I start to complain. I begin to gripe and I become a very unpleasant person. Or, better put, I should say I don’t “become” an unpleasant person; rather, the unpleasant things stored up in my heart towards that circumstance or situation come to the surface through my words, attitudes, and actions.

There have been a lot of unpleasant or unplanned things in my life this year.

And I’ve seen that this year in my life, but as I take a step back and look at it all, I realize that God has entrusted difficult times into my life because He intends them for my good. He has shown me a lot this year. Just through the sheer amount of students and parents and interpersonal relationships, the pressure of teaching Bible (yes, from an academic standpoint, it seems easy… but the Bible warns in the book of James that not many should become teachers of the Word of God… and this year I’ve realized why. because we are held to a stricter judgment… I’ve felt that this year.) God has really shown me a lot of things, personally this year. There’s a lot of things in my life this year that I can readily label and say “grape lollipop,” “grape lollipop.”

“I don’t want this. God, why are you giving me this?”

As I reflect back on that story, I realize that the same little girl that complained all the way home from the bank is still very alive and well inside of me. Now today, it may not be purple or grape-flavored lollipops, but it disguises itself. It morphs itself. It tricks me into thinking it’s new obstacles to overcome, when truly it’s just the same obstacle over and over again that is hiding behind a new mask.

Let’s see if you can relate. Your “purple lollipop” today may be….

the things in life I don’t plan on.

the things I don’t sign up for.

the disappointments.

the struggles.

the sufferings.

the difficult times.

Your grape lollipop this year may not just have a shade and color and flavor.

It may have a first, middle, and last initial.

It may have an email address.

It may have taken your peace of mind.

And stolen your sanity.

It may have jaded your attitude.

Remember whatever your “grape lollipops” this year have been and whatever my grape lollipops have been this year, God has given us those things for our good.

The verse I want to share with you today is 1 Peter 5:10:

"And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you."

The Bible has a lot in general to say about suffering or difficult times:

Paul said that we should not count it as something strange that happened to us.

James says to “count it all joy” when you fall into various trials.

Jesus Himself says, “In the world you will have trouble…. I have overcome the world.”

“We are more than conquerors through Him that loved us so.”

Remember:

God loves us. He entrusts us with suffering and difficult times because He knows the Jesus inside of us can handle it.

So, next time you’re handed a “grape lollipop” in life, know that God intends it for your good. And He will be using it as He sees fit in your life.