We live in the country now, and it's pretty awesome. This place is very old; we're told it's around 200 years old, and its unique flavor is tons of fun. However, the previous resident(s) for however long have somehow not cared about terribly ugly, peeling wallpaper and other aesthetic atrocities, so we have our work cut out for us. It's the fun work, though, if we can carve out the time to get it done. Peeling off wallpaper is one thing, but when the walls are made of plaster that's partially crumbling at the edges, and when your carpenter husband has aaaaaaall these great options including tearing down and rebuilding the wall, it gets a little more complicated. So maybe you'll hear more about our beautifying escapades in the future. And one day we will post pictures! Our camera decided to work very momentarily the other day and now refuses to budge again.
For now, I'll say that the view is amazing. Our home faces a large cow pasture that is well tended, and in the distance behind it is a beautiful range of mountains in the east, which means we see the sun rise behind them (when we're awake for the sunrise, which is becoming more possible now that it's not happening at 4:30 am). And every afternoon, a group of wild turkeys, one of my favorite things, wanders the field for food.
A few welcome-to-the-country anecdotes...
I mentioned the cows across the street. Good thing I spent half my growing up years on farms, because the, ahem, not so pleasant smells that sometimes waft our way are lovely nostalgia for me rather than something less pleasant. It doesn't bother Jed, either, so we're good there.
One night at bedtime, the only lights on in the house were in mine and Jed's room. We discovered a window that was barely cracked open behind the shade, because 800,000 moths were attacking our faces and ramming into our lights. Armed with a flyswatter, Jed took no prisoners. He finally waved a triumphant victory flag after the Great Moth Massacre came to an end. Oh, the carnage.
Also, there are spiders everywhere, and they build webs at an incredible rate! I watched one do it right before my eyes a week or so ago right before I destroyed it, and her. I did feel kind of bad. But I will go through the house sweeping down webs only to find them rebuilt within hours. Pesky. Before you get all arachnophobic, though, they're just daddy longlegs, and they stay out of our way, tucked into corners.
We were told to get a cat to help control the mice. OK, so that's fine. It's an old farmhouse in the country. I spent hours pondering and wringing my hands over where to store our pantry items, especially those in bags and boxes. I know from experience that mice can tear most things up, use the scraps for a nest, and eat the food. So my wonderful mom and I vacuumed, scoured, and Lysol-ed every cabinet, and I bought air-tight canisters for many baking items and finally made a decision. I swore I heard mice scratching in the walls on my second night here. But I've heard and seen nothing since. Yeehaw! Jed did say he heard the equivalent of a mini herd of cattle run through the ceiling in the bathroom the other night, so who knows. I'll become very vigilant come winter, though, when our house will be a nice, warm, appealing haven. Stay tuned.
And finally, there's the Levi's First Day Incident.
Our first morning here was a Sunday, so it doesn't really count. It was still just night lodgings, then we hurried out that morning and spent half the day away.
But on our first full day, the Monday after, Levi spent most of the morning out front, digging with his toys in the gravel driveway. He came in after a long while and went to hang out in another room, nonchalant. A bit later he came into the kitchen where I was staring at the aforementioned cabinets with mice on my mind, and he relayed a story. He told me about how he saw a snake and a frog outside and that he shooed the snake away, then killed the frog to protect it.
I smiled down at him and said, "Wooooww! That is SO crazy!" wink, wink. Clearly, he was making it up, right? He was like, "Yeah, it was!"
"That's just a funny pretend story, though, right?" I thought I'd double check.
"No, it happened."
"When?" I wasn't convinced yet.
"This morning while I was digging outside!"
I assumed a slightly firmer Mommy expression: "Levi...is that the truth?"
"Yes, Mom!"
"OK, where's the frog?"
"Out there." Pointing toward the front.
"Show me."
Let's pause here, briefly, for me to say, in case you don't know already, that I despise frogs. I do not like them, even though they are cute, and have a completely irrational fear of them and am convinced deep down that they are involved in some insidious conspiracy to attack people and that they have fangs. I would never let Levi know this for two reasons: I don't want to pass on to him any more lunacy of mine than is absolutely unavoidable from genetic predisposition and close proximity, and I do not want him using it against me...ever.
So he started walking toward the front door. I was starting to realize that he was not just making up some awesome story. We reached the driveway, and there it was, pulverized by a preschooler with a large rock, by my own son. I was still dumbfounded and asked him if he found this smashed frog (perhaps hit by one of our cars.)
"Nooooo, Mom, I kiiiiiilled it!"
Yikes. I finally got the whole story out of him and began to get more and more creeped out. He saw a snake attacking a frog by the side of the driveway, somehow managed to scare the snake away before it really got going (I guess), watched the frog hop away across the driveway, then found a big rock and beat the frog to death so that the snake couldn't come back to hurt it. He was trying to save the frog. I later saw the snake over by some of my flower pots, watching us and the frog. I disposed of the frog, talked to Levi about respecting nature and not needing to beat frogs to death, or any small thing that's doing you no harm, then started throwing rocks at the snake. I know. The snake was a tiny garter snake, but it was still A SNAKE.
Another day, my mom was rototilling in the front yard, God bless her, and she managed to scare out a much larger snake from under a rock, but it too was a harmless one. Nevertheless, it is still flip-flop season around here, and when we get home at night in the dark, I hop and dance all around the car to get the kids out and to carry Adelaide inside. I always manage to get Jed and/or Levi to walk ahead of me so that they scare anything off before I get there.
So despite my boring ramblings on the matter, the reality has been quite adventurous already! And I love it. The quiet, the views, the pitch black at night, all of it. Sorting through the chaos of the move and the many projects has been offset by the constant reminder that life is not all busyness and bottom lines. Sometimes it's just you versus nature. But we seem to be holding our own, as long as we keep fly swatters and heavy stones always at the ready...
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Jed's the Man
I have to brag on my husband. When we got married, we were fairly clueless and blissful and knew less than we do now about marriage. That's not to say that we know everything now, but we certainly know more. I've watched him grow into a husband in the true sense of the word. It's derived from "husbandman," and it essentially refers to one who manages well and cares for what he is given. He sets himself to bring out the best in it.
He is the head of our family, and part of the anointing there is for him to stand at the "doorway" and decide what is and what is not permitted in to the family. He is our covering, our authority, our anchor, our calm.
I'm writing this because on Sunday evening just before dinner, I made a quick run to the grocery store with Levi. We picked up a few things, then we started home. At the store, my stomach (like the actual stomach organ up in the middle-left of my abdomen) started to feel a little crampy. It was uncomfortable, but I pretty much ignored it. But when we got in the car, I don't know if it was the sitting position or what, but I suddenly had stabbing cramps that nearly incapacitated me. And if you're thinking, "It must've been gas," I can assure you, it wasn't. I have a strong stomach and have never felt anything like it. I would have pulled over and called Jed, but I left my phone at the house, and the store was just down the street. I focused on the road and groaned the whole way home, praying hard. It was almost decided in my mind that Jed would have to take me to the emergency room.
Once home, I left the groceries in the car and went straight through the door, grasping my middle, to collapse on the couch. Levi said to Jed, "Mommy needs your help. Her tummy hurts," and Jed came to find me on the couch. I was curled up in the fetal position and sobbing. I have to mention again how totally weird and unprecedented this is. Jed sensed the unusual nature of it and did what he does.
He put his hand on my back and began praying in the spirit with authority. He prayed and prayed, never striving, never using an agitated voice. He prayed with calm, decisive authority. Then he began to prophesy over me that the pain was relieved of its assignment and no longer had a right to me. He wasn't asking. He was telling. You see, he's in charge, and he knows it, and because Yahweh loves authority and has arranged things this way, things in the spirit realm that we don't even see also know that Jed's in charge. And they have to listen to him on his turf. I am his turf.
Now, I have seen countless people healed. Jed has healed people. I have healed people. But it is thrilling and amazing every time, because Yahweh at work through His people is always a trip! So what happened next is absolutely what I expected, and yet it still left me speechless. The excruciating, gripping pain that had come out of nowhere in no time was as gone as gone can be, instantly. Gone.
Jed proceeded to run me a warm bath and give the kids their dinner. When I came downstairs, he made me a grilled cheese sandwich at my request. I couldn't help but marvel at how I had totally scored when I married this man.
The kicker: The word and celebration at church that morning were crazy-good. How does one even begin to describe our services? I'll attempt it here at some point. But for now, let's just say that I know that what happened Sunday morning with all that we received from the Father with His direction, affirmation, and continued establishing and what happened that afternoon with a little test and my husband kicking it to the curb are not unrelated.
So while Jed and I are, very simply, just two people with strengths and weaknesses like everybody else, it's almost electrifying to take our God at His word when He says He's no respecter of persons, to walk out the "greater things" Yahshua promised His disciples, and to find success there.
My apologies for the gratuitous, public-mush factor, but yeah, Jed's the man. If you come looking for the Finleys, you find him at the door. He's as cordial as they come, but I wouldn't want to reckon with him. His God backs him up, and the part that really matters is...he knows it.
Kinda makes a girl feel all secure and stuff. :)
He is the head of our family, and part of the anointing there is for him to stand at the "doorway" and decide what is and what is not permitted in to the family. He is our covering, our authority, our anchor, our calm.
I'm writing this because on Sunday evening just before dinner, I made a quick run to the grocery store with Levi. We picked up a few things, then we started home. At the store, my stomach (like the actual stomach organ up in the middle-left of my abdomen) started to feel a little crampy. It was uncomfortable, but I pretty much ignored it. But when we got in the car, I don't know if it was the sitting position or what, but I suddenly had stabbing cramps that nearly incapacitated me. And if you're thinking, "It must've been gas," I can assure you, it wasn't. I have a strong stomach and have never felt anything like it. I would have pulled over and called Jed, but I left my phone at the house, and the store was just down the street. I focused on the road and groaned the whole way home, praying hard. It was almost decided in my mind that Jed would have to take me to the emergency room.
Once home, I left the groceries in the car and went straight through the door, grasping my middle, to collapse on the couch. Levi said to Jed, "Mommy needs your help. Her tummy hurts," and Jed came to find me on the couch. I was curled up in the fetal position and sobbing. I have to mention again how totally weird and unprecedented this is. Jed sensed the unusual nature of it and did what he does.
He put his hand on my back and began praying in the spirit with authority. He prayed and prayed, never striving, never using an agitated voice. He prayed with calm, decisive authority. Then he began to prophesy over me that the pain was relieved of its assignment and no longer had a right to me. He wasn't asking. He was telling. You see, he's in charge, and he knows it, and because Yahweh loves authority and has arranged things this way, things in the spirit realm that we don't even see also know that Jed's in charge. And they have to listen to him on his turf. I am his turf.
Now, I have seen countless people healed. Jed has healed people. I have healed people. But it is thrilling and amazing every time, because Yahweh at work through His people is always a trip! So what happened next is absolutely what I expected, and yet it still left me speechless. The excruciating, gripping pain that had come out of nowhere in no time was as gone as gone can be, instantly. Gone.
Jed proceeded to run me a warm bath and give the kids their dinner. When I came downstairs, he made me a grilled cheese sandwich at my request. I couldn't help but marvel at how I had totally scored when I married this man.
The kicker: The word and celebration at church that morning were crazy-good. How does one even begin to describe our services? I'll attempt it here at some point. But for now, let's just say that I know that what happened Sunday morning with all that we received from the Father with His direction, affirmation, and continued establishing and what happened that afternoon with a little test and my husband kicking it to the curb are not unrelated.
So while Jed and I are, very simply, just two people with strengths and weaknesses like everybody else, it's almost electrifying to take our God at His word when He says He's no respecter of persons, to walk out the "greater things" Yahshua promised His disciples, and to find success there.
My apologies for the gratuitous, public-mush factor, but yeah, Jed's the man. If you come looking for the Finleys, you find him at the door. He's as cordial as they come, but I wouldn't want to reckon with him. His God backs him up, and the part that really matters is...he knows it.
Kinda makes a girl feel all secure and stuff. :)
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
My View from the Throne Room
I'm gonna get right down to some nitty gritty here. You in?
This morning, I was taking some time to prepare for the new June chorus sheet that we'll start practicing with the band this week. The majority of our worship songs are songs we've written in-house; it's something that stuns me whenever I think about it. Over time, they've really begun to add up when you tally the ones written by teenagers before they became worship leaders, the worship leaders and musicians, and the people of the house who have gotten songs in their spirits and submitted them to us to do with them whatever we want. Lately, we've had that unction in our guts that it's time for a new, fresh sound that relates to where we are presently. In addition to writing songs, we've also been looking for current worship songs that other worship bands have been releasing.
So I have a confession to make. It's hard for me to listen to a lot of Christian music. It sounds awful, I know. Worshipping Yahweh is paramount in my life, and to say such a thing sounds like I just want to pick a fight. The trouble is, there's an attitude, or a spirit really, in so much of popular Christian music that I don't think actually glorifies God. (I know I just offended a bajillion fellow believers, but bear with me through the offense; healing salve is coming.) I truly believe the musicians' hearts are likely in the right place and that they're just misinformed. But there's a sense of groveling and "running to You" and longing for heaven one day. There is a time in everyone's life that we must seek Him, run to Him, and beg Him for forgiveness. Oh, how I can testify! So those songs are useful for those in that season. And He is always a loving, comforting Father. But once His forgiveness is received, we should no longer remain in that cycle. We are no longer identified as "sinners." We can move on to that which His forgiveness gains for us.
Here's what happened this morning. I saw a song title that sounded really strong and confident and potentially full of true Kingdom revelation. (I was very wrong.) I opened it on YouTube and began to listen, hopeful. The singer said something about running to His throne room, sung in a sort of desperation. I thought about how these people are already Christians. If we're seated with Christ at the right hand of the Father, positioned in a position of authority by His side in the throne room, why ought we be out there running for it, hoping to make it, again, and again, and again?
I'm not trying to be contrary, trust me. Sometimes holding a line you know is right can feel exhausting. But I love the Truth, and I'm always after the Father's purpose and His heart.
If He says we are seated with Christ at His right hand, but the current Christian theme is that we still need Him to forgive us and accept us every day or after we feel bad or messed up (which we all do), then who's right? If He says we're clothed in Christ's righteousness and have business to do under His authority, but the current Christian theme is that we're still naught but lowly sinners, who's right? (Of course, these are rhetorical questions. He's right! He always is.)
As uncomfortable as it has made me feel to accept that I can be fully healed and effective and positioned with my brother, Yahshua, I've had to trust His word over my feelings and say to my soul (that is, my mind and my emotions), "Soul! You will line up with the truth of your God! You will accept the responsibility of forgiveness. You will accept the responsibility of walking healed. You will accept the responsibility of being a son whom He has made whole in Him." So as soothing as it sometimes feels in the moment to really feel my bad day or bad circumstances and ask Jesus to come fix it for me, I realize that my salvation relationship must grow from glory to glory, and that there comes a time when the baby must grow beyond milk and become the capable being who can handle meat, putting away childish things, growing up in Him.
If you don't know Yahweh, I'm not talking to you, but I will say this: seek Him, run to Him, ask Him to speak to you and listen for it, because He absolutely will. It will be the best decision you ever make.
But if you do know Him, and if you still feel like you're running to the throne room to visit there, rather than abide, change your perspective to His. Don't let the lie dilute His truth about you any more. He wants to do mighty things through you, not just through the church leaders who are "supposed to" do that kind of stuff. He is no respecter of persons. His promises are for "whosoever will."
It makes me giddy to think about what will ensue when the church realizes, collectively, who we are. Can you picture it? Right now much of the church and most outsiders see it like this: A tired, repentant believer facing the Father with a posture of one undeserving but so grateful and receiving His forgiveness and grace and goodness once again.
But what about this?...: A son or a daughter of strength; grace, peace, confidence, and power in his countenance; posture of royalty; clothed in finery; crowned; standing with the Father and the Son; all facing the same direction, after the same purpose. Then imagine hundreds, thousands, millions, billions of such sons and daughters standing with the Father, having received life from Him, saying, "I've come to do your will, Yahweh." Which picture do you think truly honors the Father? If you're a parent, which one would please you? From Yahweh's perspective, if He did in fact send His one son to die and defeat death to purchase forgiveness for our sins, Holy Spirit empowerment in our lives, and the right to become sons of God, what do you think His heart longs for?
I know where I am. And the responsibility to stand there and to say the hard things it requires me to say, to challenge the status quo, is something I will not fear but will embrace.
...including the joy of writing my own worship songs.
This morning, I was taking some time to prepare for the new June chorus sheet that we'll start practicing with the band this week. The majority of our worship songs are songs we've written in-house; it's something that stuns me whenever I think about it. Over time, they've really begun to add up when you tally the ones written by teenagers before they became worship leaders, the worship leaders and musicians, and the people of the house who have gotten songs in their spirits and submitted them to us to do with them whatever we want. Lately, we've had that unction in our guts that it's time for a new, fresh sound that relates to where we are presently. In addition to writing songs, we've also been looking for current worship songs that other worship bands have been releasing.
So I have a confession to make. It's hard for me to listen to a lot of Christian music. It sounds awful, I know. Worshipping Yahweh is paramount in my life, and to say such a thing sounds like I just want to pick a fight. The trouble is, there's an attitude, or a spirit really, in so much of popular Christian music that I don't think actually glorifies God. (I know I just offended a bajillion fellow believers, but bear with me through the offense; healing salve is coming.) I truly believe the musicians' hearts are likely in the right place and that they're just misinformed. But there's a sense of groveling and "running to You" and longing for heaven one day. There is a time in everyone's life that we must seek Him, run to Him, and beg Him for forgiveness. Oh, how I can testify! So those songs are useful for those in that season. And He is always a loving, comforting Father. But once His forgiveness is received, we should no longer remain in that cycle. We are no longer identified as "sinners." We can move on to that which His forgiveness gains for us.
Here's what happened this morning. I saw a song title that sounded really strong and confident and potentially full of true Kingdom revelation. (I was very wrong.) I opened it on YouTube and began to listen, hopeful. The singer said something about running to His throne room, sung in a sort of desperation. I thought about how these people are already Christians. If we're seated with Christ at the right hand of the Father, positioned in a position of authority by His side in the throne room, why ought we be out there running for it, hoping to make it, again, and again, and again?
I'm not trying to be contrary, trust me. Sometimes holding a line you know is right can feel exhausting. But I love the Truth, and I'm always after the Father's purpose and His heart.
If He says we are seated with Christ at His right hand, but the current Christian theme is that we still need Him to forgive us and accept us every day or after we feel bad or messed up (which we all do), then who's right? If He says we're clothed in Christ's righteousness and have business to do under His authority, but the current Christian theme is that we're still naught but lowly sinners, who's right? (Of course, these are rhetorical questions. He's right! He always is.)
As uncomfortable as it has made me feel to accept that I can be fully healed and effective and positioned with my brother, Yahshua, I've had to trust His word over my feelings and say to my soul (that is, my mind and my emotions), "Soul! You will line up with the truth of your God! You will accept the responsibility of forgiveness. You will accept the responsibility of walking healed. You will accept the responsibility of being a son whom He has made whole in Him." So as soothing as it sometimes feels in the moment to really feel my bad day or bad circumstances and ask Jesus to come fix it for me, I realize that my salvation relationship must grow from glory to glory, and that there comes a time when the baby must grow beyond milk and become the capable being who can handle meat, putting away childish things, growing up in Him.
If you don't know Yahweh, I'm not talking to you, but I will say this: seek Him, run to Him, ask Him to speak to you and listen for it, because He absolutely will. It will be the best decision you ever make.
But if you do know Him, and if you still feel like you're running to the throne room to visit there, rather than abide, change your perspective to His. Don't let the lie dilute His truth about you any more. He wants to do mighty things through you, not just through the church leaders who are "supposed to" do that kind of stuff. He is no respecter of persons. His promises are for "whosoever will."
It makes me giddy to think about what will ensue when the church realizes, collectively, who we are. Can you picture it? Right now much of the church and most outsiders see it like this: A tired, repentant believer facing the Father with a posture of one undeserving but so grateful and receiving His forgiveness and grace and goodness once again.
But what about this?...: A son or a daughter of strength; grace, peace, confidence, and power in his countenance; posture of royalty; clothed in finery; crowned; standing with the Father and the Son; all facing the same direction, after the same purpose. Then imagine hundreds, thousands, millions, billions of such sons and daughters standing with the Father, having received life from Him, saying, "I've come to do your will, Yahweh." Which picture do you think truly honors the Father? If you're a parent, which one would please you? From Yahweh's perspective, if He did in fact send His one son to die and defeat death to purchase forgiveness for our sins, Holy Spirit empowerment in our lives, and the right to become sons of God, what do you think His heart longs for?
I know where I am. And the responsibility to stand there and to say the hard things it requires me to say, to challenge the status quo, is something I will not fear but will embrace.
...including the joy of writing my own worship songs.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
When Hearts Overflow with a Good Thing
Life is good.
We've been back from Philadelphia for almost a week, but the experience there and the perspective we've had upon returning home have signified yet again how incredibly great life is.
It doesn't have to always be the big struggles we encounter or the great victories on the other side that show us how much we have to celebrate. It reminds me of that bumper sticker that says, "Don't sweat the small stuff. It's all small stuff." It's catchy, and some things aren't necessarily so small, but it's the attitude of relaxed contentment that comes from casting our cares on our loving God and trusting Him in all things.
During our trip, we were able to be with lots of family who love us and whom we love. We were able to take time away as our own family unit and be together for almost an entire week. We got to stay in a hotel where complete strangers took the time to wait on us and clean up after us. We got to eat at a lot of wonderful restaurants where someone else prepared and served and cleaned up the meals. We got to play an intimate role in the marriage of two people we love. We got to play in the pool and hot tub with our kids. We got to sleep in. We got to shower the happy couple with gifts. On a personal note, I got to live a sort of dream of mine and sing in a particular, out-of-my-comfort-zone style in a giant cathedral. We saw a beautiful city, Philadelphia, in full-spring bloom with azaleas bursting forth colorfully, almost edibly. We got to rest. We got to dance. And we got to dress up in really fancy clothes.
We came home refreshed and glad for the opportunity to celebrate with so many friends and family. Really, at best, we were only sideline players in the big event. It wasn't our event after all, but it's one we got to share. Even so, we came home totally moved by the whole experience of being able to vacation together in such a way. It reminded us of simple pleasures and the importance of feasting and celebration. The time also provided ample opportunity for Yahweh to talk to us and share with us new and important revelation about who we are and what He has for us moving forward. The new scenery was a great backdrop for some new perspective, and we came home different than the people who had left just a week prior.
The simple pleasures of life are as important as the more complicated aspects. And when our hearts overflow with a good thing, with His presence, with true joy, others can be touched out of that overflow. We have enough for ourselves and enough to share. Granted, our hearts can overflow with such goodness whether we've had such a great trip or not. That's the incredible gift of the Holy Spirit. But the trip and its blessings showed us in a new light what we already knew: life is good.
And we know that "every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows" (James 1:17).
I stand today, grateful. Grateful that we serve a good God, not a vicious tyrant. Grateful that He relishes true life and giving good gifts to His children, rather than being abusive or hateful. Many people view God either as a distant Grandpa in the sky or as a never-pleased wielder of violent, unfair judgment. Both views would be wrong. I'm grateful, again, that He is good. In His judgment and in His mercy, in His love and in His discipline, in His pushing us and in His giving us rest, He is good.
Because of Him, my heart overflows with a good thing. And there's plenty to go around.
We've been back from Philadelphia for almost a week, but the experience there and the perspective we've had upon returning home have signified yet again how incredibly great life is.
It doesn't have to always be the big struggles we encounter or the great victories on the other side that show us how much we have to celebrate. It reminds me of that bumper sticker that says, "Don't sweat the small stuff. It's all small stuff." It's catchy, and some things aren't necessarily so small, but it's the attitude of relaxed contentment that comes from casting our cares on our loving God and trusting Him in all things.
The simple pleasures of life are as important as the more complicated aspects. And when our hearts overflow with a good thing, with His presence, with true joy, others can be touched out of that overflow. We have enough for ourselves and enough to share. Granted, our hearts can overflow with such goodness whether we've had such a great trip or not. That's the incredible gift of the Holy Spirit. But the trip and its blessings showed us in a new light what we already knew: life is good.
And we know that "every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows" (James 1:17).
I stand today, grateful. Grateful that we serve a good God, not a vicious tyrant. Grateful that He relishes true life and giving good gifts to His children, rather than being abusive or hateful. Many people view God either as a distant Grandpa in the sky or as a never-pleased wielder of violent, unfair judgment. Both views would be wrong. I'm grateful, again, that He is good. In His judgment and in His mercy, in His love and in His discipline, in His pushing us and in His giving us rest, He is good.
Because of Him, my heart overflows with a good thing. And there's plenty to go around.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Lessons I Learned from Mom
If you're afraid of something, go to it.
When I was young, if the house made a strange noise that bothered me, she would teach me this. Then she'd go with me to the sound, and we'd find out it was just part of the house making noise. She helped me learn that most fear is just in our heads and doesn't have to overtake us, which applies to so many things in life.
If you're feeling down, go help someone else.
She passed this one down from her own mom. If the nasty little self-pity monster ever tried to get us down, she taught us this. If you're helping someone else, it makes you feel better for the sheer sake of being helpful. It also might give you some handy perspective about your own challenges.
You can be a lady and still kick some serious boo-tay.
You can choose to be happy.
During a couple of my college years, I faced some major personal challenges, and Mom sent me a book called Happiness Is a Choice. It was so annoying to me at the time, because I was like, "If it were that easy, then why am I not happy?" But actually, I ended up working through all of it and learning this very lesson, because I did, in fact, choose decisions that lead me out of those circumstances. Now, understanding that we can decide how we'll feel, and that we don't have to be ruled by our emotions, has become a cornerstone of wisdom for me. Mom was right all along.
Watch your mouth; there's a power to our words that, whether we understand or not, we ought to respect.
Anytime we'd say something like, "It was so funny, I almost had a heart attack!" or "I was scared to death," Mom would say, "Hmmmm...you shouldn't say that. Your tongue and your words matter." Something in me knew she was right. It was my spirit. Now I understand way more about the power of our words, and that when we speak, we create, just as God does, in whose image we were created. Weird, but true, and again, Mom was right all along.
Pray without ceasing, cast your cares on Yahweh, and have faith.
The single most prominent characteristic I equate with my Mom is prayer. I'm not talking about one who sat down with us and prayed over things often, which she did. I'm talking about consistently, vigilantly, passionately setting aside time to go to a quiet, hidden place to pray to the Father. She understood the power there, and she put it into practice, and He honored her prayers in her life and the lives of her children. Especially back in those tough, college years I mentioned, I cannot explain it other than to say that there were times that I knew she was praying for me and that, were it not for her faithful prayers, some things would absolutely have turned out differently. I cannot say how much it has impacted me.
So, here's to my mom, so full of love, grace, patience, and wisdom. Not just in theory, but in practice. This list, full of depth and insight, is only just the short list that most readily comes to mind. She has been a constant teacher, and seen from my perspective as a grown-up, I marvel at the blessed life I've had to be entrusted to her care.
Love you, Mom! Happy Mother's Day today and every day!
Philly Trip: Wedding Bells!
Days 4 and 5: Wedding Fever
(My apologies for switching tenses and whatever other confusing writer errors I commit...No time to edit!)
After Day 3, Day 4 was so leisurely, and the weather was gorgeous. We had our late breakfast, then went back to the mall: I was determined to find THE red shoes (red pumps, closed toe) I needed for my chosen dress for the wedding day (out of the SIX dresses I purchased...six, I said). But mostly, Jed needed a very particular prop for his Best Man's speech at the reception. We were in no hurry. We had no engagements other than the rehearsal and dinner that evening. We were in wedding mode.
Almost all the shoe stores in the mall were not in my preferred price range. We entered the mall through Nordstrom (Nordstrom's?), where I casually grabbed the price tag of a sundress I liked as we walked by: $298. Maybe I'll get into the colorful mental/emotional/moral exclamation points that danced in my head in another post. They had a live pianist at a grand piano playing lovely music, which we all appreciated. I wondered how much of the $298 went to his compensation.
Anyway, the highlights of Day 4 are that Jed found the perfect prop, I dragged everyone to about 5 stores that might work without finding THE perfect red shoe, then as we headed back to the car through Nordstrom, I ran through their shoe department just for fun. And found THE red shoe! How much? $298. No joke. They just have a thing for that number, I guess.
As we drove back to the hotel through the beautiful neighborhoods, Jed (who comes from a Penn State family) informed me that on the next house we buy, he's going to take the most prominent, flat, forward-facing roof face and arrange dark and white shingles in a way to create the image of the Penn State Nittany Lion. I expressed to him my excitement over this vision. And how very classy it would be.
The rest of the day we got ready for the rehearsal and dinner, then the events started rolling. All went off without a hitch (Kevin wasn't there for the rehearsal but sauntered in at the end and agreed to run through Ave Maria one last time; when Levi saw him, he shouted in that great room, "HI, MR. KEVINNNN!!), and the dinner was at a fancy, "old thyme," rustic type of restaurant with amazing, not-too-dry-or-creamy crabcakes, full of flavor with the perfect crispy breading. Mmmmm... Excitement was in the air, wonderful toasts were given, and there was much celebrating. We got the exhausted kids to the room after a late evening, but I was still thinking about THE shoes. I had found them on Target.com (between mall trip and rehearsal)!!! I therefore found a Target nearby and therefore took this small window of time (between 10pm and 11pm) to go there and procure my shoes (We also needed formula; I'm not totally nuts). I was tired, but stubborn, took a couple wrong turns, speed-walked past some possibly shady characters into the store, went straight back to the shoes, navigated over and through the horribly messy aisles where customers had scattered the wares all over the floor and employees didn't seem to care, and discovered that they did not have the shoes. OK, I would let the shoe thing go. After all, tomorrow was the Big Day!!
(My apologies for switching tenses and whatever other confusing writer errors I commit...No time to edit!)
Day 4: T-Minus One Day
After Day 3, Day 4 was so leisurely, and the weather was gorgeous. We had our late breakfast, then went back to the mall: I was determined to find THE red shoes (red pumps, closed toe) I needed for my chosen dress for the wedding day (out of the SIX dresses I purchased...six, I said). But mostly, Jed needed a very particular prop for his Best Man's speech at the reception. We were in no hurry. We had no engagements other than the rehearsal and dinner that evening. We were in wedding mode.
Almost all the shoe stores in the mall were not in my preferred price range. We entered the mall through Nordstrom (Nordstrom's?), where I casually grabbed the price tag of a sundress I liked as we walked by: $298. Maybe I'll get into the colorful mental/emotional/moral exclamation points that danced in my head in another post. They had a live pianist at a grand piano playing lovely music, which we all appreciated. I wondered how much of the $298 went to his compensation.
Anyway, the highlights of Day 4 are that Jed found the perfect prop, I dragged everyone to about 5 stores that might work without finding THE perfect red shoe, then as we headed back to the car through Nordstrom, I ran through their shoe department just for fun. And found THE red shoe! How much? $298. No joke. They just have a thing for that number, I guess.
As we drove back to the hotel through the beautiful neighborhoods, Jed (who comes from a Penn State family) informed me that on the next house we buy, he's going to take the most prominent, flat, forward-facing roof face and arrange dark and white shingles in a way to create the image of the Penn State Nittany Lion. I expressed to him my excitement over this vision. And how very classy it would be.
The rest of the day we got ready for the rehearsal and dinner, then the events started rolling. All went off without a hitch (Kevin wasn't there for the rehearsal but sauntered in at the end and agreed to run through Ave Maria one last time; when Levi saw him, he shouted in that great room, "HI, MR. KEVINNNN!!), and the dinner was at a fancy, "old thyme," rustic type of restaurant with amazing, not-too-dry-or-creamy crabcakes, full of flavor with the perfect crispy breading. Mmmmm... Excitement was in the air, wonderful toasts were given, and there was much celebrating. We got the exhausted kids to the room after a late evening, but I was still thinking about THE shoes. I had found them on Target.com (between mall trip and rehearsal)!!! I therefore found a Target nearby and therefore took this small window of time (between 10pm and 11pm) to go there and procure my shoes (We also needed formula; I'm not totally nuts). I was tired, but stubborn, took a couple wrong turns, speed-walked past some possibly shady characters into the store, went straight back to the shoes, navigated over and through the horribly messy aisles where customers had scattered the wares all over the floor and employees didn't seem to care, and discovered that they did not have the shoes. OK, I would let the shoe thing go. After all, tomorrow was the Big Day!!
Day 5: The Wedding
Flurry of activity. Everyone getting ready. Me running through the hotel, one dress on, two more in hand, asking girls I passed which one I should wear (the shoe thing made me undecided again), then arriving at Becky's room (my awesome mom-in-law). Josh was there! As in, the groom! "Hi JOSH!" I almost started to cry, but he was highly focused on his task, as I was on mine. Joe (Grandpa Joe, Becky's awesome husband) chose my favorite, the Moroccan dress, saying, "That one is so you." But was it too busy for a wedding? Josh assured me it was fine, Becky picked it as one of the two she liked, then Jed, back at our room, officially chose it for me so that I would just move on with life. Curlers in my hair, fun-time meticulous make-up application, Levi in handsome little suit, Adelaide in beautiful little gown, me rushing: curlers out, finish hair, shoes on, which earrings? Perfume on, look up: Jed in pinstriped tux pants, pulls out his coat, with tails, and puts it on. Hello there, handsome! Such a dapper choice, Josh!
We meet in the lobby to take our bus to the church, and everyone looks gorgeous, dressed to the nines. Arrive at church, drop kids off with sweet sitter, Jessica, get the lay of the land, put on our corsages, and I find a private spot outside the church to warm up my voice without interfering with anyone. Make sure I have my reading and a program, leave Jed in the back with the wedding party, and find my seat up front. Deep breath.
Bridesmaids in knee-length, steel-gray gowns carrying rich red bouquets: so beautiful. Groomsmen in the aforementioned tuxes, escorting them: so handsome.
Katie was stunning and vibrant and elated, and Josh was dapper, calm, and proud. The Catholic ceremony had its various rites and parts, and everything went smoothly. I don't normally get super nervous before doing this kind of stuff, but for Ave Maria, I was a little antsy. It ended up going well, and as soon as the last organ chord rang out, I sat down and let out a long breath. And then, Mr. and Mrs. Josh Finley!!
Buses to the reception at an exclusive country club. Pictures. Party. Both families are a blast, and the bride was the life of the party, leading the way on the dance floor! She is full of energy and life and fun, and the reception followed suit.
There are two things that stood out to me on a personal note.
First, Jed's Best Man speech was hilarious, moving, honoring to the bride and groom, and delivered with some serious panache. I was so proud! And despite the fact that he is from a radically Penn-State family, he cast a line of peace to Katie's family, who is University of Michigan all the way, by donning his prop, a University of Michigan baseball cap. This act made Josh hide his face flat on his plate as he shook his head in shame. Katie, however, loved it with a victorious arms-raised celebration. The crowd was vehemently divided between cheers and disapproving groans.
Second, Levi has got some serious moves on the dance floor! All the practice worshipping Yahweh at church really paid off for his spectators at this party. He and the other little kids all had the crowd in stitches and imitating their moves, with videographer and photographer following closely behind.
Jed's honored position in the wedding party meant we got the bus ride back to the hotel, which also meant we and the kids got to stay till the very end. The kids were absolute troopers, partying and smiling and winning admirers left and right. In the last moments, they both gave in and collapsed in our arms.
What an absolutely memorable series of wedding events and parties it has been! Congratulations to Josh and Katie! Today is Day 6, and Josh and Katie are hosting a Bar-B-Q before they leave for Puerto Rico tomorrow. This post will likely be my last of this series. This relaxed Mother's Day with all the family, now that all the planning and hard work have come to such a satisfying fruition, will wrap things up perfectly.
Happy Mother's Day!
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Philly Trip: Day 3
Day 3 was unexpectedly eventful and full of surprises, so fair warning: this post is long!
On night two, Adelaide was screaming somewhere around 2:30 a.m., and all I recall is bolting upright and wrestling with my sheets in a frenzied adrenaline rush, confused but determined, not sure what the noise was or what I could do to stop it. I was still half-asleep. A soft, low beam of light beckoned me from the crack in our bedroom door, and beyond it, Adelaide seemed to be experiencing a rather Shakespearian drama (tragedy, not comedy). Jed sat up calmly and said, "Are you OK?" I threw myself back down on the bed, and pulled all the covers up over me: "I don't know what's going on!" Then I fully awakened, realized my current plight was much less life-threatening but altogether still in the middle of the night, caught my breath, and stumbled out to help the Shrieking Siren.
Sometimes I have sleepy-time episodes when I travel. This is not news to many of you. Anyway, this one was mild, but marked what I'll call the beginning of Day 3. Day 3 was kinda crazy. Here's the rundown:
- Everyone slept in again. Score. After our nighttime battles, we all stored up for it.
- More family and friends to greet! Everyone's slowly arriving!
- By the time we made it to the diner for breakfast, to the grocery store to stock our mini-fridge, and back again to the hotel, it was time for Adelaide's nap. I hung out with her in the room. Here's the deal: Josh and Katie's couples shower was scheduled for this day. We needed to get our gifts, which seems simple enough.
- BUT...After a week of trying to reach the church organist, Kevin, about meeting sometime this week to practice our song, he responded this morning that he could meet tonight. So we let the family know that I (just I) might be a little late (MIGHT be a LITTLE late) for the shower.
- Adelaide napped for THREE hours. We had to wake her and get going. GPS to mall. A few wrong turns. Arrived at ginormous mall, spotted one of the registry stores, parked, finagled kids/stroller/bags/own heads into store, found registry, not much stuff left, asked for help finding Sears. "Oh, that's in the OTHER mall." Apparently, this ginormous "mall" is actually two malls in one, so "other" didn't mean super far away, but it did mean that we finagled kids/stroller/bags/own heads back to the car and over to the "other" mall to Sears.
- Met the least useful employee ever at Sears who pointed us to the registry kiosk nearby, then just rested her entire torso on her cashier counter, watching us, and answering our questions with squinted eyes at the computer, gum smacking, shoulder shrugging, and "I don't know." Point lost for Sears. We just wanted to print it. She said we could, but that it only printed downstairs, and she'd have to go get it. That made lots of sense to us. :/ Another point lost for Sears. We were watching the clock and starting to sweat. We THEN couldn't find the print button. The girl lying on her counter didn't know. She didn't trouble herself to get up and walk over to the computer to help, until the very last moment, with a sigh and the speed of a sloth. By then, I'd found it, and she slowly diverted her slouchy meander in the direction of the secret place where these things print. Jed and I would have been in stitches if we weren't in such a hurry. Meanwhile, we scanned the registry on the screen, scrolling up/down/back up/down, first with me using the mouse, then with Jed. Still no lady. Finally, we made a decision and just left. When it was time to pay, Jed mentioned to a new lady that the item was from a registry but that there seemed to be a great deal of trouble getting an actual hard copy of a registry, and could the nice lady look up the registry on her computer so that she could remove this item from it?
"I'm sorry, sir. What?" she said with a thick accent.
"Excuse me?" said Jed, trying to decipher what she said.
She finally called a manager. By then, we were in a full sweat, watching the clock tick. The manager arrived and used her keys and pushed a bunch of buttons only to ascertain that she could not look up registries at the cashier stations. She assured us that she could, however, print one downstairs for us.
Forget it. Josh and Katie could just get two and return one if it came down to it. (Sorry, guys.) So we paid and rushed out the door. We had Josh's half of the couple's present, and now we were too late to take Jed and the kids back to the hotel before I left to meet Kevin, the organist. So we all piled into the car, set the GPS, and put the pedal to the metal.
- Traffic. CRAZY, rush-hour traffic. Fortunately, Kevin had called to say he'd be about fifteen minutes late, which we answered with our traffic story and that we'd probably be a touch later than he. He was so laid back. We like Kevin. You're about to find out why.
- We finally arrived, the whole family, unfed and a bit frazzled.
- The church is a giant, stone Cathedral, and it's gorgeous. The inside is cavernous, and the organ with all its pipes in all their grandeur, sits in the back balcony above the first floor. We took a tucked-away narrow, winding staircase, in sort of a stone tower, up to this choir loft where I stood face to face with Kevin, an oriental man of short stature, likely in his forties. He wore jeans, a white t-shirt, black suspenders, black socks, and no shoes and sat at the controls of that massive organ with such ease. His voice was calm and soft: "So, do you want to talk anything over or just jump right in?" Jump in.
- He ended up raising the key a step and a half, which means a decent little jump up, especially for the higher reaches of the song. But he was right. In that room, with its awe-inspiring resonance, with its presence that becomes one of the "voices" of the song, the higher register was better. I was thrilled, because I'm an alto who normally sings low, bluesy, growly types of stuff, and this room made me sound like a trained soprano. Well, sort of. In that loft, the organ pipes are right there. They push the air over the balcony and out into the room, which means those in the balcony can't hear the organ very well. So Kevin and I went over and over how I would learn to keep tempo with the organ. It was fun, because it really stretched me musically.
- Levi came up the stairs, met Kevin, gaped at the organ, accepted Kevin's kind invitation to go sit down and play it, then hammered away at the keys with his skinny fingers. Then he spotted some kettle drums and proceeded to accept Kevin's invite to play those for a bit. There we were in that ominous cathedral that would try to be intimidating if one didn't know better, and we were in one of its sort of special, behind-the-scenes places pounding away on the instruments. I couldn't help but chuckle at it. "Thanks, Yahweh," I smiled.
- We raced, in our heads, back towards the hotel for the shower. In reality, we sat in more gridlocked traffic. How is it that traffic is like this going both ways? Anyway, I know there are plenty of explanations, but we were soooo late! AND we still had to jump into one more store to finish our gift. So much for getting it all done in one day. I blame it on Adelaide's three-hour nap, but the wee one desperately needed it.
- The shower was absolutely lovely. Yummy little quiches, tiny cheeseburger sliders (not the regular small sliders, but, honestly, about the size of a half dollar in diameter: so tiny!), hummus, salsa, veggies, and chips all covered the rectangular tables along the wall; and many familiar, happy faces greeted us from the round tables all over the floor. People were talking and laughing and catching up and telling stories, and we were so glad to have arrived at last, letting out our breath, and hugging necks.
- Josh and Katie were adorable, opening presents, answering questions as part of the game we played throughout the night, and having their little private moments.
- After a crazy day, you know we crashed when we finally got to our hotel beds.
With all its quick bursts and restful pauses, Day 3 proved that the festivities had officially begun!
On night two, Adelaide was screaming somewhere around 2:30 a.m., and all I recall is bolting upright and wrestling with my sheets in a frenzied adrenaline rush, confused but determined, not sure what the noise was or what I could do to stop it. I was still half-asleep. A soft, low beam of light beckoned me from the crack in our bedroom door, and beyond it, Adelaide seemed to be experiencing a rather Shakespearian drama (tragedy, not comedy). Jed sat up calmly and said, "Are you OK?" I threw myself back down on the bed, and pulled all the covers up over me: "I don't know what's going on!" Then I fully awakened, realized my current plight was much less life-threatening but altogether still in the middle of the night, caught my breath, and stumbled out to help the Shrieking Siren.
Sometimes I have sleepy-time episodes when I travel. This is not news to many of you. Anyway, this one was mild, but marked what I'll call the beginning of Day 3. Day 3 was kinda crazy. Here's the rundown:
- Everyone slept in again. Score. After our nighttime battles, we all stored up for it.
- More family and friends to greet! Everyone's slowly arriving!
- By the time we made it to the diner for breakfast, to the grocery store to stock our mini-fridge, and back again to the hotel, it was time for Adelaide's nap. I hung out with her in the room. Here's the deal: Josh and Katie's couples shower was scheduled for this day. We needed to get our gifts, which seems simple enough.
- BUT...After a week of trying to reach the church organist, Kevin, about meeting sometime this week to practice our song, he responded this morning that he could meet tonight. So we let the family know that I (just I) might be a little late (MIGHT be a LITTLE late) for the shower.
- Adelaide napped for THREE hours. We had to wake her and get going. GPS to mall. A few wrong turns. Arrived at ginormous mall, spotted one of the registry stores, parked, finagled kids/stroller/bags/own heads into store, found registry, not much stuff left, asked for help finding Sears. "Oh, that's in the OTHER mall." Apparently, this ginormous "mall" is actually two malls in one, so "other" didn't mean super far away, but it did mean that we finagled kids/stroller/bags/own heads back to the car and over to the "other" mall to Sears.
- Met the least useful employee ever at Sears who pointed us to the registry kiosk nearby, then just rested her entire torso on her cashier counter, watching us, and answering our questions with squinted eyes at the computer, gum smacking, shoulder shrugging, and "I don't know." Point lost for Sears. We just wanted to print it. She said we could, but that it only printed downstairs, and she'd have to go get it. That made lots of sense to us. :/ Another point lost for Sears. We were watching the clock and starting to sweat. We THEN couldn't find the print button. The girl lying on her counter didn't know. She didn't trouble herself to get up and walk over to the computer to help, until the very last moment, with a sigh and the speed of a sloth. By then, I'd found it, and she slowly diverted her slouchy meander in the direction of the secret place where these things print. Jed and I would have been in stitches if we weren't in such a hurry. Meanwhile, we scanned the registry on the screen, scrolling up/down/back up/down, first with me using the mouse, then with Jed. Still no lady. Finally, we made a decision and just left. When it was time to pay, Jed mentioned to a new lady that the item was from a registry but that there seemed to be a great deal of trouble getting an actual hard copy of a registry, and could the nice lady look up the registry on her computer so that she could remove this item from it?
"I'm sorry, sir. What?" she said with a thick accent.
"Excuse me?" said Jed, trying to decipher what she said.
She finally called a manager. By then, we were in a full sweat, watching the clock tick. The manager arrived and used her keys and pushed a bunch of buttons only to ascertain that she could not look up registries at the cashier stations. She assured us that she could, however, print one downstairs for us.
Forget it. Josh and Katie could just get two and return one if it came down to it. (Sorry, guys.) So we paid and rushed out the door. We had Josh's half of the couple's present, and now we were too late to take Jed and the kids back to the hotel before I left to meet Kevin, the organist. So we all piled into the car, set the GPS, and put the pedal to the metal.
- Traffic. CRAZY, rush-hour traffic. Fortunately, Kevin had called to say he'd be about fifteen minutes late, which we answered with our traffic story and that we'd probably be a touch later than he. He was so laid back. We like Kevin. You're about to find out why.
- We finally arrived, the whole family, unfed and a bit frazzled.
- The church is a giant, stone Cathedral, and it's gorgeous. The inside is cavernous, and the organ with all its pipes in all their grandeur, sits in the back balcony above the first floor. We took a tucked-away narrow, winding staircase, in sort of a stone tower, up to this choir loft where I stood face to face with Kevin, an oriental man of short stature, likely in his forties. He wore jeans, a white t-shirt, black suspenders, black socks, and no shoes and sat at the controls of that massive organ with such ease. His voice was calm and soft: "So, do you want to talk anything over or just jump right in?" Jump in.
- He ended up raising the key a step and a half, which means a decent little jump up, especially for the higher reaches of the song. But he was right. In that room, with its awe-inspiring resonance, with its presence that becomes one of the "voices" of the song, the higher register was better. I was thrilled, because I'm an alto who normally sings low, bluesy, growly types of stuff, and this room made me sound like a trained soprano. Well, sort of. In that loft, the organ pipes are right there. They push the air over the balcony and out into the room, which means those in the balcony can't hear the organ very well. So Kevin and I went over and over how I would learn to keep tempo with the organ. It was fun, because it really stretched me musically.
- Levi came up the stairs, met Kevin, gaped at the organ, accepted Kevin's kind invitation to go sit down and play it, then hammered away at the keys with his skinny fingers. Then he spotted some kettle drums and proceeded to accept Kevin's invite to play those for a bit. There we were in that ominous cathedral that would try to be intimidating if one didn't know better, and we were in one of its sort of special, behind-the-scenes places pounding away on the instruments. I couldn't help but chuckle at it. "Thanks, Yahweh," I smiled.
- We raced, in our heads, back towards the hotel for the shower. In reality, we sat in more gridlocked traffic. How is it that traffic is like this going both ways? Anyway, I know there are plenty of explanations, but we were soooo late! AND we still had to jump into one more store to finish our gift. So much for getting it all done in one day. I blame it on Adelaide's three-hour nap, but the wee one desperately needed it.
- The shower was absolutely lovely. Yummy little quiches, tiny cheeseburger sliders (not the regular small sliders, but, honestly, about the size of a half dollar in diameter: so tiny!), hummus, salsa, veggies, and chips all covered the rectangular tables along the wall; and many familiar, happy faces greeted us from the round tables all over the floor. People were talking and laughing and catching up and telling stories, and we were so glad to have arrived at last, letting out our breath, and hugging necks.
- Josh and Katie were adorable, opening presents, answering questions as part of the game we played throughout the night, and having their little private moments.
- After a crazy day, you know we crashed when we finally got to our hotel beds.
With all its quick bursts and restful pauses, Day 3 proved that the festivities had officially begun!
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