A little crap helps a garden grow

We all have them -- bad days. Sometimes bad weeks or a string of bad days. Or even just a slump we can't explain, even though we've been in a better mood on a previous "really bad" day. 

I've been kind of slumpy this week -- without much of an explanation. At least not a good one! Abby's on-again, off-again emotional/behavioral highs and lows were affecting me more than her it seemed. She cut a chunk out of her hair; used scissors to carve a divot in her brother's wall (and feeling shame and guilt afterward, "evened" things out by doing the same on her wall!); painted the bottom of spices with blue food color as some kind of torture to me when I took them of the cabinets and got blue all over my hands and couldn't figure out where it had come from; lost a good shoe that we spent 15 minutes looking for and ended up late for camp; wore the same shirt -- dirty -- for three straight days and nights; and other such ADHD-type of impulsiveness that would make this blog too long to read. 

I've been good. No yelling. Lecturing and lots of crying, but no yelling. Grace. Grace. Grace. I'm calling on my "God power" big time; I'm really trying my best to extend grace all over the place! I felt like I was doing good, but the people around me can tell it's bothering me and that I'm not doing the best I can do. I thank God for their accountability and honesty, because they opened me up to hear what God wanted me to experience this morning, and it's too amusing not to share!

Dan is always texting me little "love notes," and while I reply, I rarely initiate. Before you bring out the hate, I have a strict limit on texting on my phone plan. An average of six a day is what I get, and he's a big texter. 

I do love getting his notes, and I started my day on a real "high" after a couple of bad days and wanted to send a quick note to let him know I care. 

"I <3 U!" 

I sent it from the bank parking lot at Bud's corner. And then sixty seconds later, I got stuck behind several big trucks painting the lines on the side of the road. It took me 30 minutes to get to Athens. So much for my productive day I had planned!

Still, I kept a smile on my face. 'Cause that makes everything better, right? 

I needed gas, so I stopped at Casey's. While there, I figured I would fill up the low tire that must have a screw or slow leak that we can't locate because it's been getting low every few days for a couple weeks now. No time or money to deal with it, and air is keeping it at bay. 

I get out and OH MY GOSH!!! I had somehow driven through the white line they painted, and it was splashed up all over and quite high on the passenger side of the Jeep. 

All I could think was that Dan would kill me. Which is humorous, because if you know us then you know I do stupid things all the time like hit the side of the garage with the rear view mirror, run into light poles, hit parked cars, drive through fresh tar that isn't rocked yet. Yet here I am, still alive!

Yes, I've done it all. And every time, I hesitantly pick up the phone to call my husband, hands shaking, tears filling up the corners of my eyes. He knows something is wrong after I've gotten a few words out, and then he yells at me -- for making him think something serious had happened. And replies the same words every single time without fail or hesitation: 

"It's just a car."

My husband. He's so good at GRACE! I need to be more like him to deal with the weeks ahead of Abby off her medication. It WILL be hard. It WILL be frustrating and taxing and emotional and loooooong. But if I can have grace every time without fail, I've done my job. Because she's already filled with regret, shame and self-hatred when she stumbles. She doesn't need a mom who bends down and shoves her face in it. 

Will you pray for me to find it? I could certainly use all the help I can get!

I had to chuckle as I desperately brainstormed how to get the paint problem fixed because I remembered the text. Holy cow! He would probably think I was buttering him up in preparation for the story of my ignorance! (I might have  started some of my post-accident phone calls with "How much do you love me?")

Thank goodness I didn't need to suck up! Next time you see me in my Jeep, there may be some remnants of white paint on the tires. But the paint job itself looks the same as before -- dull, rusted in spots and dinged up from two kids who play basketball and ride bikes around it. 

Thank God for the high-pressure sprayer (with soap) at the car wash this morning. But before I could clean it off, I would step in manure that had apparently been cleaned off the last vehicle in that bay. In fact, the odor was suffocating, and it was wedged in every crevice of my tires, too. And so here's the crappy part. 

I then laughed out loud. Literally. It's good to laugh on a bad day. Smiling makes everything better....right?

I laughed because I was absolutely where God wanted me -- dripping wet, sweating over my stupidity and covered in poop. How can I grow big and strong without that fertilizer? I so needed God's reminder that no matter how much crap I get myself into he'll always be there for me -- extending grace or putting me in the path of loved ones who give me grace and giving me the power of poop. 


I needed to be filled with that grace, love and faith today! I am constantly awed at how he can take lemons and make lemonade and teach me to do the same! 

Thankful for my man of courage!

It seemed fitting that on Sunday morning of Father's Day, as I stood brushing my hair and teeth in our (shared) family bathroom, I could hear my husband patiently readying our two children for church. 


For so many dads who wear these three letters -- D-A-D -- more as a title of burden than blessing, Father's Day is a RIGHT...for them to do as they please, to escape from their children or be pampered by them. Not my husband. There were no such expectations in our home. 


My normal morning routine with the kids is very rush-rush as I follow behind them begrudgingly picking up their messes. But Sunday mornings always offer reprieve -- a chance for me to slow down while Dan picks up the slack. 


Unlike me, he offers patient words of encouragement when they resist brushing their teeth and seeks out teachable -- or laughable -- moments in everything. 


That's because, you see, he has expectations. Expectations of who is to be as a dad and expectations for his own children so they will grow up strong in Christ. 


And so when we arrived at church to Katie Ibbotson's powerful message on a father's expectations as part of the sermon, it was a reminder to me. A reminder that our heavenly Father has expectations for ALL of us. Among those expectations are strong, influential, godly dads for our children. 


Make no mistake: This is NOT just a job for men. Women must also ensure our husbands can be the leaders in our homes -- as God designed them to be. 


Turn on your television and you'll see what society expects in a home (if a father is even present!) -- a father figure who is mocked by his family, the butt of all jokes, stripped of his masculinity and nagged like a "dripping faucet" (doesn't that sound like a Proverb!). 


And because Katie said it so eloquently, she was willing to share her words from Sunday. Here's an excerpt:


"What can a father do for his child?? Have EXPECTATIONS! A father who expects from his child, who sets forth these expectations in the lives of his children impacts not only his children but those who are watching. 


"What expectations?! Which expectations?! The written word of our FATHER in Heaven Himself sets forth the expectations of our fathers. In Romans 12:2, we read: 'Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is —his good, pleasing and perfect will.'


"Oh... men of courage... Don’t let Hollywood set forth the expectations for your loved ones. Seek his pleasing and perfect will and find the way to show your children what expectations our Father in Heaven has for a home...your home.... Read HIS word, show them what OUR Father in Heaven expects!"


Two of my favorite "daddy" photos of my man of courage. :) 

Feeling empty; Lacking love

Do you ever feel empty? 


Oh, that's just me? 


Well, I (somewhat begrudgingly) admit it: Sometimes I feel empty -- an emptiness that can't be explained. The world tells us this isn't OK. I mean, look at all the STUFF at our disposal to fill up our "emptiness." Big homes. Fast, shiny, big, beautiful bright cars. RVs. Boats. Four wheelers. Swimming pools. Fashion. Furniture. Art. Gadgets upon gadgets. Social media. Pinterest. 


Why on earth would anyone feel empty?


And yet, I do. Perhaps that's where I've gone wrong. Maybe, just maybe that's why I feel so buried, so insecure. Could it be that I've been reaching for STUFF, instead of to the ONE who can fill me up? 


Yesterday, in the depths of despair I cried out to God. Then felt slighted when he didn't show up with an answer. "I have faith," I insisted, in anger. "And I know you'll answer my prayers. Please show up here!"


Nothing.


I was left alone, I felt, with only the rambling thoughts of emptiness inside. Chief among those scattered thoughts were worries. A broken car. No job/income. Medical bills. And this unceasing desire to do more -- sponsor an orphan, feed hungry children, end the injustices I've seen firsthand in developing countries -- all the while being unable to care for my own family.


I speak as if I have faith, and I believe I do. I have left it in his hands, and I KNOW he will provide. And I know things take time, and I know he's growing me in this season of life. I do trust him!


Yet, in the midst of this, I look at what everyone else has, and I'm jealous. A jealousy that makes me angry. "I just want to pay my bills and help needy children...why can't I have more resources, God, when I want to use them to honor and glorify you?"


Is it any coincidence that I'm currently reading a book entitled "The God Who Sees You: Look to Him When You Feel Discouraged?"


I'm not sure why it continually amazes me that he meets me where I am. 


That emptiness, could it be a longing? A longing to be affirmed, valued, loved, appreciated, assured, connected, desired, celebrated, cared for and included as the author has suggested? 


Could it be that this is EXACTLY how God designed us? So that we would fill this emptiness, not with things of the world, but with him. Things, stuff and even people are unreliable. God is not. 


He may not always give us exactly what we want or ask for, but he's there. Always. And he knows our pain. He's experienced it firsthand. He chose to come to us as man, as Jesus, who endured it all -- physical pain, emotional pain, suffering, temptations, hunger, exhaustion, mocking, death. 


So it was reassuring to me as I read last night this passage in the book: 


"The real difficulty is that the unseen God is also hard to understand. His actions often don't make sense to us, and He doesn't look at things at all the way we do...


"To our limited understand, God's ways are mysterious and often counterintuitive. There are even times when, for reasons we can't fathom, God hides himself completely from us. When that happens, it's so easy for us to get wrong ideas about him. We get all mixed up about what we can see and what we can't see. And that's when we may fall into the trap of wanting to tell God what to do."


Wow. 'Cause that's exactly where I was yesterday. Telling God what to do, in the midst of my anger and confusion. 


Yes, I have faith. But I was reminded from 1 Corinthians 13:2 "...and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing."

Do I have love? Yes, I would answer. 


But then as I examine the rest of the passage, it makes me wonder, is my love: 


Patient? ...never grumbling about life's circumstances but trusting my needs will be met? 


Kind?  ...putting others above myself, not just occasionally but all the time? 


Free of envy and boastfulness? ...satisfied with what I have, who I am and where I'm at in life? ...free of bragging and boasting? 


A love that is not not self-seeking? ...who is it I want to please? 


Not easily angered? ...am I quick-tempered? Do I lash out at others? Blame others for my problems? 


Free of records of wrongs? ...do I forgive, let go and let God? Always? 


One that rejoices in the truth? ...do I live my life like God is all I need? 


Protecting? ...do I seek to protect my heart and my children's hearts from the evils of the world? 


Always trusting, hoping and persevering? ...do I question the authority of love? Do I lose hope, give up? 


I know I have faith and hope, but I still feel something is missing. After examining this scripture, it's clear I'm lacking in love. It's no wonder I feel empty! 


This is a long list. And honestly exploring the TRUTHFULNESS of love is an ongoing exercise. For me, it will require making choices daily -- sometimes hourly -- to live a life that's driven by love. 


It will be hard. It goes against what we're taught by the world. It's a lifestyle that's not revered, and it sometimes requires us to admit we've messed up. But yesterday was a reminder for me that doubt = darkness, and I want to live in the light. The light fills me up ...with God, with faith, with hope and with love. He is all I need!

My sincerest thank you to you all!!

I just don't know how to do it. To adequately thank everyone. Some of you prayed. Some gave money. Some gave encouragement. Some gave advice. Some gave love. 


But only some got thank you notes. I FINALLY finished up my notes, though not all have been delivered. This is a big step, if you know me!


Ryker thought I should send one to everyone who prayed for my trip to Africa. I didn't even know how to begin to tackle that list. So I mailed out or handed out notes and prints to those who financially supported my trip. However, I want to say that while these people made it possible for me to pay the bills, my trip simply could not have been accomplished without the prayers. Or the encouragement. Or the love. Or the advice. 


You were all such a critical part of this very important project in my life, and for that I thank you. From the bottom of my heart. I'm not sure what that expression means. But it sounds like a deep gratitude. And that's certainly what I feel for all of you. 


Here are some of my favorite images from Africa that I gifted to some of you. Please follow the blog with stories from Sierra Leone at lifegateinafrica.org to get the full story on these photos and the people in them plus much more! 

{Much love}
Amy

Honoring Good Friday

I started to title this "Happy Good Friday," but it seemed contradictory. Good Friday is a reminder of our sin and shame. The cross, a symbol of death and suffering -- all because we are sinners. But it is happy in the sense that Jesus gave it all so that we don't have to. Beaten. Mocked. Flogged, Paraded through city streets with a cross on his back. Skin, muscle and bone shattered as nails pierced him to the cross. Stabbed. Slowly bled to an unfortunate death.


All for us. All for you. In place of us. He. Hung. On. That. Cross. He experienced pain and misery. That's why he understands yours. He loves you. Immensely. 


To follow him, to truly follow him, we must pick up our own figurative crosses. He asks us to give up something, sacrifice, serve....a small price to pay to follow him. Today, as he's slowly dying on the cross, I'm thinking about my cross. Is it enough? Am I doing enough? Am I a follower of Christ or a fan? What about you?