Don’t looked all shocked. I’ve never been a fan of watermelon. I tell people that it is the flavor or texture, but honestly, it is the seeds that have a lot to do with it. It seems so messy and slow-eating. I usually take a pass and reach for the seedless grapes, easy-peel oranges. Last summer, as the little ones in my house dug into a watermelon, the walls rang with giggles. It took them an entire half-hour to finish their portions and the table looked like a war-zone. And yet, they smiled about it all day long. Later, when my nephew was picked up to go home, telling about the watermelon was a top priority. I listened as he recounted his watermelon-eating escapade and realized that it wasn’t about the flavor or texture of the fruit. It was all about the experience. How cool, right? My calendar for summer is already filling. I look at the dates and begin to think about the packing, the hours spent driving, and the lack of routines and schedules. It all feels so messy. But, when I remember how my nephew talked about his watermelon, I realized that there is another way to look at life’s moments. When we cling to an experience, the mess fades away. Life is full of disorder. Little of it follows our plans. We can either live the ride or be tormented in the chaos. This summer, I am stepping into the challenge of embracing each moment, setting aside my agendas, and living blessed within the mess. Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, Are there things you avoid because you are fixated more on the inconvenience than on the experience?
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Bits of weeds, dirt, bugs, and sticks scattered. I walked and pushed, walked and pushed. Behind me fell a neat line of cut foliage. I smiled. My shoulders dropped. If having an open mouth hadn't been a hazzard, I would have sang. If only all of God's tasks for us were like this: One job at a time. Predictable outcomes. Visual progress. Many things in my life require work of the mind, heart, and body with no confirmation of results. With faith I keep pushing against bricks walls. Are you pushing brick walls, too? Are you fighting for a marriage that feels like it is crumbling around you? Are you attempting to teach manners to a defiant child? Are you battling a disease? Are you holding the hand of a friend deep in depression? Brick walls come in many shapes and sizes. Have you read the story The Unmoved Rock? If you haven't, you must. To summarize, God asked a man to push against a rock all day, everyday. The man did so for years. Eventually he became discouraged and cried out to God. God showed him how much the man had grown by performing the hard task. He had grown strong and resilient. But, He told the man that God was the the one that could move the rock. (Read the full story here. From Bible.org) Today I am thankful for mowing, for a task where I can see results. But for all those other things that I am struggling for, I must instead look at the progress inside myself. I look at the patience I have gained, the ability to laugh and shake off little hurts, the heart that is learning to run to God for completeness... Thank you, God, for having me push for the impossible. I will do the work, but remember that it is You who moves the mountains. Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. What are you fighting for today? Even if you don't see much progress out in the world, do you see the progress in you? "God's delays are not God's denials, Lora." The words ripped a little hole in the knot in my stomach. Peace seeped in. For months I had gone head-to-toe with weak sentences and useless paragraphs that littered my novel. No matter how hard I worked and how many hours I put in, I still couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. And an editor was waiting for it. For the first time after writing 10 books, a devotional, and a blog I finally have a professional interested in my work. It has taken me over a decade to get here. You can imagine the fear and anxiety I feel as the months slip away. I worry they take my opportunities along with them. Yesterday I unloaded on the CEO of CLASSeminars (a Christian Writers and Speakers Organization). I confessed my fears and God sent me a message through this dear lady's advice: Trust in God's timing, always. God's delays are not God's denials. Life often obstructs forward motion and causes us to feel we are failing, yet God makes no mistakes. We are on His path. We are on His timeline. We are in His plans. I got off the phone with Gerry and God's hope filled me. I needed that. It isn’t just my writing that feels stagnant, Micaela is going through a rough patch. She hasn’t taken to her new walker. Our encouragement and practice seems to get us nowhere. But, God’s delay is not God’s denial, I remind myself. Just because progress is slow and often invisible, doesn’t mean she will never learn how to use this adaptive equipment. I look around at my life and see so many things that I must wait patiently for. I must continue the work and keep my faith in an all-seeing God who has a purpose for what He has called me to do. We might never know why He makes us wait, but His purposes are great. Trust in His love. Our Savior said, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” (Matthew 7:1-2, NIV) Those words echoed in my heart when I looked at my friend’s tear-filled eyes and heard her fears. She worried her past choices might influence how others treated her child. I swallowed. I reassured my friend. Her intelligent and kind daughter blesses my own girls. Later at night my mind fell back on that moment. To be honest, I have been so impressed with how this young woman is raising her daughter. In fact, witnessing friends and classmates become parents thrills my heart. It brings out the very best in so many I care for. They grow up. They re-prioritize. They give. I wonder if they see themselves this way, or if they carry around their past. God’s mercies are new every morning and as we grow and learn to love others, do we turn around and learn to forgive ourselves? I haven’t. I carry around past mistakes and errors like rescued valuables from a fire. I know everything ugly about my past and I expect others to see it every time they look at me. I see this in others, too. I see beautiful maturing people who keep their mistakes. That night I laid in bed, eyes wide, and it dawned. The way I judge others is the way I judge myself. If I can let go of my mistakes, give them to God, my heart will learn to love others the way God loves them. How many of us limp forward in life, damaged by wounds we refuse to allow to heal? In our wounded state, how will we ever learn to embrace mercy and grace? as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us. Do you hold on tightly to your own mistakes? Does it affect the way you view others? The doctor looked over his mask and nodded to Micaela. “What do you think, mom, is this baseline? Is this Micaela?” She had experienced her very first seizure and recovery was slow. I shook my head. “No. Its not. This isn’t baseline.” Miceala sleepily babbled and banged a musical turtle. She threw her head back and gazed unfocused at the ceiling. No. This was not Micaela. Baseline. The word made my heart tremble. God, where is baseline? Where is baseline for my family? Is it this—hospitals and new meds and fear? Or, please, is baseline home where Micaela laughs and throws tantrums and Adela doesn’t wonder where her mother and sister went? Oh, God. The doctors and nurses came. They left. The tests were done. Micaela’s brain showed no signs of bleeding, strokes, or epilepsy. There was only the old, extensive, damage. The kind that made the neurologists look at what was left of her brain and ask if the lethargic child in front of us was acting normal. That night, when the hospital room dimmed, I listened to the monitors and questioned God. I questioned His plan. I knew He had one. I knew He had a purpose for my child, for me, for my family, before we were ever breathed into existence. But I wasn’t sure I liked it anymore. My prayers stopped. I wrapped myself in a blanket against the chill. I thought over all the many twists in my 31 years of life. From one year to the next it has been full of the unexpected. I eloped at 21. I had my first child while living in Patagonia, Argentina. I said goodbye to a two-month old baby and brought home her twin sister. I lost my mother much too soon. I relived a hundred memories and I saw it. Clear and beautiful--baseline. We have no control over our lives. Even if we had the money and resources to create a perfect bubble, the unexpected would still worm its way into our existence. Baseline will never be something we can hold and touch. Baseline can be found in something altogether more powerful—our connection to God. That is baseline. Baseline is being able to look at any circumstance and see our amazing Heavenly Father. Baseline is His joy in our hearts, His peace in our souls. Baseline stretches and weaves into our every moment because we chose not to walk out this life on our own strength, we chose Him. Baseline. Eventually, our Micaela woke, ate, played, laughed, and even threw a tantrum. God stays close to Her. That precious connection is an intimate part of her existence, and mine, my four-year-old Adela, and my husband’s lives. Our baseline cannot be measured, described, or limited. But we have this treasure in clay jars to show that its extraordinary power comes from God and not from us. What keeps you secured to your baseline?
My eyes scanned over this month's goals. Between chores, I wanted to work with Micaela. I touched the cognitive goal and nodded. I selected 5 familiar objects and placed them on the floor. Micaela came quickly. Her smile was infectious.
I grinned. "Okay Micaela, we have a cup, a cat, the drum, a ball, and a marker." Micaela patted the drum and grabbed the cat. I swallowed. "Micaela, where is the ball? Can you touch the ball?" I made eye contact with her and repeated the question. Micaela's smiled faded. She set the cat down and looked at the toys. I held my breath and waited. Miceala looked at me again and her eyes lit up. She crawled over and climbed into my lap. She settled her head on my shoulder. I could feel her body relax. When she leaned back there was a smile once again on her face. My eyebrows came together. My little two-year-old obviously needed a hug. Had I held her today? Had I simply enjoyed her company? What about yesterday? My mind filled with the activities we did together. I knew Micaela enjoyed all of them. But there was more to life than developmental progress. I held Micaela for several minutes and pushed away my agenda. It was hard. My thoughts were of milestones and learning, but my heart was troubled. When had Micaela become my project child instead of just my child? The rest of the day my worried mind traveled the fear over and over. Before bed I poured out my doubts to God. I needed guidance. I need to fix whatever had become broken. I bit my lip and opened to the book of Mark in the Bible. The next chapter I needed to read was chapter 8 and a familiar story came with it. Jesus fed four thousand men + women and children with 7 loaves of bread and a few small fish. The men themselves would have went hungry, but with God their resources were multiplied. There was more than enough. I blinked back tears. As a mom, I often feel my resources are stretched thin. There is so much that needs to be done. So much that must be fixed, cared for, provided for. My mind and heart feel inept, coming up short with everything my little family needs. But, with God, there is more than enough. I have enough love to see my daughter for more than her disabilities. My mind has more than enough space to care for the many needs of her learning and life. I have wisdom, joy, love, patience, and peace, because I’m on this journey with Him. Like the four thousand that sat on the ground while Jesus broke the bread and gave thanks, I need to rest in His presence and let Him fill all those empty spaces. And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.
Do you ever wish you had a personal mentor that sat you down with your Bible once a day and told you what to study, how to pray, and why different verses are important? When I became a mom, my daily devotions grew disorganized. I couldn't count on a set time to open God's word. Often, when I made it to that precious devotion time, my mind and heart were too weary for deep lessons. I missed the accountability of Bible study groups but my new life allowed little room for those things anymore.
God heard and answered my weary plea to still connect with Him. He taught me that quantity was not as important as quality. He taught me to find my focus by writing out my prayers to him. He showed me that a single memorized verse can carry me through dozens of anxious moments and that the lessons taught in the Bible are accessible even if I only had a few moments. When Expressive Heart Devotions was created, I hoped it would encourage others to have a deep connection with our loving Heavenly Father as we study His word, memorize scripture, meditate and pray. Below I worked through one of the sets in the book to give an idea of what you can do with these pages. By the way, I treated all my pages with Gesso so that I could use paints, markers, etc without the colors bleeding into the pages.
I opened up to page 17 and stared at the words "No Longer Lost". The thought sends chills up my spine. I was lost, but now am found. Eager, I opened up my Bible and read through the ten verses that come with the key scripture, Luke 19:10. After reading the passage my mind fills with thoughts, questions, and hope. God is seeking and has searched me out. He did not allow me to be lost. In the margin I draw the tree Zacchaeus climbed up and hid in so he could glimpse his Savior. Zacchaeus was never to be lost again.
Then I decided it was time to let myself be bold. I let perfectionism fly out the window as I scribbled on the page the most difficult or ugly parts of my past and present. I drew out my neediness, my greediness, my untamed tongue—everything I could think about that reminded me of what I haven’t given over to be redeemed. As each one was splashed onto paper, I prayed to God about taking it and battling those things away.
I settled into deep relaxation as I grabbed my gel pens and water colors. I used watercolor pencils on the sea and gel pens for the rocks. In my mind I memorized and memorized the words of this scripture. They are now mine forever to turn to whenever I am feeling lost.
Sipping spiced apple tea, the last page filled my heart with joy. In my mind I could see myself sitting before my Heavenly father and pouring out to Him all my fears and desires. Often, when I try to pray, my mind gets sidetracked and I daydream. Writing out my prayers helps me focus on God. Plus, it always amazes me to read them out later and remember the how I felt in those moments.
I would love to see images and hear about others' Expressive Heart Devotions experience. May you each be having a very blessed and beautiful day.
Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken.
I stared at my to do list and tapped my pen. There were two things on it, both a bit time-consuming and totally centered around my self. Besides the normal chores, Micaela's therapy, and Adela's learning, I also needed to set up my fit bit and cook some low-fat menu options to store for my meals. It was going to be huge chunk out of my day. For a long moment I lifted the pen above the two items, ready to cross them off and move them to tomorrow.
Then what? Tomorrow was not going to magically present a few free hours to help me become healthier. But today I felt that the needs of my home and children had to go to the forefront. Oh, us moms, right? We are so good at un-prioritizing ourselves, aren't we? What does our God think about that? Do you think He would like to clap us on the back and tell us "Well done. Keep up the good work."? Or, does he watch us scurring around, worrying about putting away those dishes and organizing toys and wish we would trust Him a bit more? The Bible is full of verses and stories reminding us to respect the health of our bodies, hearts, and minds. Check out this collection of 27 Bible Verses about Health from Biblestudytools.com. If God repeatedly mentioned the importance of our health, we need to trust Him to care for the other areas of our lives while we take time to be good to ourselves. You know, I've seen many solidly amazing men and women whose biggest dreams had to be set aside because of their health. I've seen lives side-swiped by issues that could have been avoided if they had taken care of themselves earlier in life. God has asked each of us to do a great work for Him and we honor Him by keeping ourselves fit mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and physically so we are equipped to do His will. We are worth this. There should never be an argument dancing around our heads that tries to argue its way into the logic that our hearts, minds, souls, and bodies have not earned a priority in our lives. A healthy you would be a stronger mother, a more joyful daughter, a more understanding friend, a more peaceful spouse...that list just keeps going. So, today I want you to know, that you, my dear, are worth it. You are worth a spot on your own list, up near the top, and written in bold ink. May your blessings abound for your faithfulness.
Micaela's angry scream pierced the air.
I am going to go crazy, I thought. I gave Micaela a weary smile. "Hey, sweetheart. You're okay. I need to finish these dishes." Her little fingers curled into fists. She screamed again. Seriously, I am going to go crazy. In less than ten seconds I had successfully made myself feel inadequate and unprepared for what life was throwing at me. How? Negative self-talk. We are all familiar with these sly chants uttered under our breath when life heaps on the pressure. Read the list below and identify if you find yourself saying some of these negative statements. I'm not up to this. I can't keep doing this. Another mother would handle this better. I'm not good enough for this. I'm not ready for this. No one takes care of me. No one cares about me. ...and on...and on. I am certain that negative self-defeating thoughts are a favorite tool of the Devil. In a sly and quiet way, we allow lies to creep into our world. And, if perception is reality, then we will be crazy, inadequate, unable to go on, unable to hand the pressure, uncared for, and missing the joy in life. Oh, but guess what--God is waiting. His solution is simple. STOP. Stop talking to yourself and talk to Him. Talk to Jesus, connect with His spirit inside you, soak in the joyful love of your Heavenly Father. This takes training. This takes developing a new habit where we can: 1. Identify our negative self-talk. 2. Stop ourselves when we say these things. And 3. Open up a dialogue with God. We need to do it over and over until those thoughts lose their foothold in our hearts. Lord knows I'm working on it. This last week has been a killer. Micaela has been sick with a stomach bug for over a week. That, on top of a lot of other home/family/life demands, I felt entirely used up and defeated by the time I came home from doctor appointments in Albuquerque on Friday. Everything I whispered to myself was full of frustration and weariness. It took an agressive act of self-will to turn my self-talk into a conversation with God. He doesn't put up well with my pity parties. If I try and tell God that I am going insane, He responds that I am not being truthful and that I am not leaning on His strength. If I tell God that I can't take it anymore, He responds that I can with Him. He reminds me that He has given me good things. Colossians 3:2 in the ampliphied Bible says, "Set your mind and keep focused habitually on the things above [the heavenly things], not on things that are on the earth [which have only temporal value]." We all need to stop talking to ourselves and start speaking with our Heavenly Father. His strength, His peace, and His perfect love waits for us. For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline.
Becoming a mom turned me into a silly creature. I was scared about everything. I read a gazillion baby books, referenced them when Adela cried, and asked my sister about each new noise and symptom.
If you are still a "new" mother, I want to assure you that it will get better. God is just training you to worry less, so when they start eating bugs or talking about boys, you will remember to take it Him in prayer first. One of my silliest sins was the way I interacted with my amazing mother-in-law. Now I've loved Nelia, "Mamá", since before I even married into this family. She has treated me as a true daughter for over a decade. We cook together, laugh together, have long conversations on the phone, and hold each other when we cry. But, when Adela was born it took time for our relationship to adjust. Knowing that I would need a lot of extra help, we flew Mamá down to Argentina for Adela's birth and she stayed with us for the first four weeks. I pictured her stay filled with quiet moments holding a sleepy newborn, eating meals together, and savoring the first appearance of our next Armendariz generation. Like I said, I was new at this. Newborns are not all sleepy sighs and adorable onesies. Newborns are stressful little balls of work and worry. Adela cried--no, screamed--had trouble eating, and didn't sleep as much as I thought she would. Instead of accepting that this was when Mamá was going to help me, I resented each and every little bit of advice she gave, especially if it went against my precious books. In my head I felt she saw me as a failing mother who wasn't doing anything right. Those first few days everyone was miserable. It was about the third night when Mamá came up to me with some oils and gently informed me that she was going to give me a massage. Adela was finally sleeping. I didn't know what to do with myself. Having no will to argue, I plopped down in front of her. I tensed up. I expected the massage to come with a lecture. She had lured me in with oils and now would give me an ear-full. But she didn't. She spent the next half hour working out the kinks in my shoulders while she told me what a great mom I was and how proud she was of me. She told me all about how it had been when my husband was born, her own first child, and how difficult it had been. I secretly wiped away the tears. I had been so wrong about her. I had been wrong about her words. They hadn't ever been meant to condemn, they were only there to help, encourage, and love me. Our relationship grew dramatically from that moment on. People will always be coming alongside us "new" mommies and offering us advice. And we are all new in some ways. If we aren't new to motherhood itself, we a new to a stage or phase or problem. And, when those people offer their comments we can choose to become defensive or to thank God that there are other's around us so we don't have to do this alone. Mamá gives me lots of advice. It never ceases. And, each time I choose to recognize that she is speaking out of love, I feel loved by her. If I become defensive then we are both hurt. I wish I was perfect now as a mother, but I'm not. None of us are. That is why God gives us people like Mamá. Thank God. Being a parent is not for the timid and it usually takes more than just a biological mother and father to raise a child. Thank God for sweet words of love so that we have the strength to keep going. Pleasant words are as an honeycomb, sweet to the soul, and health to the bones. |
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