Post Category → scripture

speak: v.2*

I’m so thankful for a seeing, hearing, speaking God. I need to know He sees me, and hears me, and it’s really nice to know that He even speaks to me.

:: Last night I was playing some worship songs at the piano, and looking out the window toward the evening sky. There, straight up, was a single star (probably a planet, since they’re the only things bright enough to shine through this brightly-lit stretch of sky), and the sight of it touched me. I felt like I saw God. “There He is! Looking right in our window!”

And I sang my heart out.

Even though I know that God doesn’t live on a star. Or a planet.

:: I was reading Psalm 84 some more. I read,

I would rather stand at the threshold of the house of my God
Than dwell in the tents of wickedness.

and it touched me.

;: Life, as you can imagine, has been a bit out of whack. Funny how trapped our souls are in these physical bodies. You move 3,000 miles, and your soul goes into a tailspin, trying to figure out which way is up. I read that verse and thought, “That’s where I am. Standing at the threshold. Watching God on the big-screen TV in the overflow room.”

I read it again, and tears welled up.

I’d still rather be here, Lord. Even the overflow room is better than anywhere else.

:: Jameson seems to be going through some changes in his sleep needs and schedules. Mostly, he’s suddenly hard to lay down. He wakes up every time I move at all, and it takes forever for him to fall asleep soundly at night. Since I’m doing my best to be the perfect model of a high-strung first-time mother, instead of just taking this in stride, I lend my ear to whispers of doubt. What if I’m doing this wrong? What if I’m off my rocker to be so laid back in my approach to sleep and schedules? Wouldn’t my life be so much better if I could just lay him down at 2:00 and walk away?

And then today, I stumbled upon this. I don’t post that link to make any sort of statement, but just to say, it touched me.

It’s okay to lay your life down the best you know how, I heard the Lord say.

Surely there is more to learn, and He will give me more and more wisdom as I seek His ways. And maybe (hopefully!) mothering will be totally different for me in 10 years.

But for now, all I can do is follow the light at my feet.

And what a faithful Light it is.

*There’s a v.2 because Ryan thought the original post was 90% mulligrubs (if you don’t know that word, think Eeyore) and only 10% “but God”. Well, that’s not at all what I wanted to communicate! What I intended to share was the joy of hearing from the Lord in such a personal way. Doesn’t your soul just leap when the Lord’s voice lets you know He sees just where you are, and He’s there, aware, knowing, loving?

psalm 84

I know, I know. Two posts in one day? Why aren’t you cleaning the house and regrouping from your overnight company, you ask.

Well, because our town’s water system is being overhauled, and today it’s our turn to have no water. So, until 5:30, I can’t wash a single dish or do a single load of laundry. In fact, I can’t even flush the toilet. This is truly roughing it.

Why, then, aren’t you hanging pictures on the wall and otherwise completing the process of moving in?

Well, that’s a good question.

Jameson is amusing me with his play here in the living room. (So adorable to watch him try to figure things out, like stacking toys and turning pages in books!) While he does that, I’ll mention that I read a verse that came alive, again, to me:

How blessed is the man whose strength is in You,
In whose heart are the highways to Zion!
Passing through the valley of Baca they make it a spring;…
They go from strength to strength. (–psalm 84)

Home is where He is. Better is one day in His courts; blessed are those who dwell in His courts. When He is enthroned in our hearts, and the path to His presence is well worn in our lives, even places of weeping become wells of life. Those are the people who are strong regardless of circumstance — because their hearts are fixed on an immovable object, a wellspring of life and joy.

And here, in a new place, this is life to me again. It’s a challenge, again, to go from strength to strength, and make His dwelling place my soul’s habitation.

tid bits.

I’ve been a bit spoiled this past week. Our house will be available in two days, and in the meantime, we’ve been staying in hotels. This means I don’t even have to make the bed if I don’t want to. (I do.) It also has meant a nice clean pool to play in each morning, or afternoon, or whenever it seems like a fun thing to do. My daily schedule has included a short walk to obtain a cup of coffee (either here or, of course, here), a swim/splash fest in the pool with Jameson, exploratory walks where we shop or swing or just sit and nurse, depending on what we discover, and naps. Plenty of naps.

This is not, I realize, the hard life.

That said, I am definitely looking forward to starting a “real” life. One that will include a house, home-cooked meals, a private backyard, and routine. Routine. Goodness, I love routine.

I have plenty of pictures to post, but my connection, via hotel, doesn’t seem to want to authenticate my flickr uploadr — and I refuse to spend two hours browsing and uploading one at a time. So. They’ll have to wait.

The forecast for the weekend? Highs of 71, perfectly sunny. Not bad, eh? (Ask me what I think in October, when the forecast is still highs of 71 and sunny, while you all are enjoying the smells and sights of autumn in New York [or wherever you’re reading this from.])

I’ve been watching SO MUCH Food Network. Holy cow. I should have a culinary degree by the end of the week, I think. But I’ve also been reading 1 John. (Not as much as I’ve been watching Emeril, if truth be told. Gotta work on that.) I’m just reading it through right now, doing the “big picture” thing. Every now and then I find myself tuned out, because the words are as familiar as Mother Goose rhymes. Other times, I find the words suddenly becoming the memory of a Psalty song (“Beloved, let us love one another. love one another…) But however lousy my mental discipline may be, I’m getting the “people who know God should LOVE” message loud and clear.

Sort of.

It’s funny that it wasn’t until 2.5 times through 1 John that it occurred to me that all of this love stuff probably applies to my relationship with Ryan. Huh. Go figure. I am so used to reading this book and thinking about “the brethren” that I forget that these challenges hit much closer to home (or should.) It’s not just “the world” that should see in my love for them God Himself; it’s Ryan, too. I’m smart enough to know that Ephesians 5 applies to me as a wife; it’s all the rest of the Bible that I sometimes forget about.

We’ll work on that, too.

misc.

:: It’s really very silly that I feel so incredibly productive this morning. All I’ve done is make phone calls and return some emails — but since that is the stuff that I dread, I always feel pretty pleased with myself when I can check such to-dos off of my list. Silly me.

:: Jameson’s favorite toys are his pacifiers. He’s never appreciated them as pacifiers. In fact, he’s only just figured out how to keep them in his mouth, but this is all just fine with me. No habit to break later on, and in the meantime, they make for fascinating fun. There’s one tucked in his toy basket, and one saved for the car, and watching him find them is so fun — pop, it goes, into his mouth. Suck, suck, then back out to be inspected at every angle, then popped back in, upside down. Suck, suck, take it out, wave it around in the air, inspect, suck, suck… Yes, this goes on all the way to Massena. What a great toy!

:: Sometimes [this morning], when I’m working , err, monitoring my baby’s whereabouts, I sigh and think, How on earth could I survive with two, or three, or five little people running around, needing me all the time?

Then, immediately, I see Bronwyn’s chubby arm around Jackson, her little voice saying, “See, Tanka-mama [me]? Dis is MY baby Jacks!” I hear Gabriel yell with all the responsibility of an oldest brother as he races out the door, “No, Jackson! DON’T GO IN THE ROOOOAAAAD!”

And I smile and sigh and think how precious children are, but how extra-precious siblings are. (And especially those certain little people. Boy, do I love watching them be a family!) God knows what He’s talking about when He says,

Behold, children are a gift of the LORD,
The fruit of the womb is a reward.
Like arrows in the hand of a warrior,
So are the children of one’s youth.
How blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them;
They will not be ashamed
When they speak with their enemies in the gate.

morning thoughts.

Would this be called a posting frenzy? Just curious.

We watched the presidential debate last night. I’m pretty out of the loop, so it was nice to finally find out who our Republican choices are. Well, “nice” might not be accurate. It was actually more like, “scary to finally find out…” Why? Because the men who seem actually ready to run a country are ridiculously liberal on the social issues.

But that’s not why I’m writing this.

As I listened to a long row of intelligent men, all well versed in the current world affairs, answer the questions posed them regarding terrorism, foreign policy, national debt, and abortion, I realized this: None of these men know all the answers. Not a one of them. They looked so frail, so finite in their humanity as they stood up to questions that are so much bigger than a single man’s wisdom.

I realized this: We desperately need the Lord. Only His wisdom and power can keep babies safe, provide for the needy and sick, protect us from nuclear warfare, and bring peace to the Middle East. We need Him.

With all of the world issues we face tumbling around in my mind, I read 1 Pet 4 this morning:

“The end of all things is near; therefore, be of sound judgment and sober spirit for the purpose of prayer. Above all, keep fervent in your love for one another, because love covers a multitude of sins.”

When I consider the “end of all things”, I have to say that sound judgment, sober spirits, and fervent prayer seem appropriate postures. I don’t immediately think that I should love the brethren more than ever.

But that’s what it says. Isn’t that interesting? I’ve always thought so. Loving one another — our relationship with the greater Body of Christ — is so incredibly important. More than we realize, and probably more than we can fully understand. (Isn’t that the way most God things are? We just obey and find out later why it was such a big deal?)

And be hospitable. Don’t forget that. When another suicide bomber dies, another soldier goes missing, and another storm rocks the South Pacific, fire up the oven and make some cookies. Love — forgiving love — and an open invite for dinner will always stand bright as the night darkens around us.

eight months, moving, and Truth

:-%,/|} Today I’m bored with starting new sections with “-“, “*”, “:.”, and “::”, so I came up with “:-%,/|}”. Whaddya think?

:-%,/|} Jameson is 8 months old today. This is amazing to me, mostly because I don’t remember spending all day and all night of eight months with him. I still feel like he just arrived!

But no. He’s been around long enough to start figuring the world out. He knows what he wants, and pushes away anything I try to pacify him with. His adorable forward-scooch upgraded today into a modified military crawl, and he’s realized that he can use it to move distances. While I realize that there’s nothing particularly adorable about creeping on the floor, I find it hard to not just stand and watch him move. MY baby is MOVING! Amazing! “Mama’s so proud of you!,” the little guy hears all the time! And a close second in recurring statements is, “No, no, don’t touch/eat that!”

He loves to be silly and get tickled. Peek-a-boo continues to hold its status of possessing universal appeal.

He went to the nursery for the first time this week. I think this was actually more distracting for me, and my entire row, as my eyes were continually watching for my number to appear, indicating a complete Jameson-meltdown. And yes, he can cry with the best of them.

He has six teeth, soon to be eight. That must be the worst part of being a baby.

He talks more and more, and now even his cries have definition — especially the one that means, “I’m totally bored and want to be picked up, but in the meantime, I’ll just experiment with how many ways I can move my tongue.”

So yes. Eight months ago, he was born. I’m so thankful for him, and the message he is that God knows best — you can trust Him.

:-%,/|} As Bri said, the mother’s day message was “off the hook!” (That would be Ryan’s influence.) Absolutely amazing. I won’t mention that it should be posted online, because that job would fall to my husband, who already has too much on his plate right now. But really, it should be posted online.

:-%,/|} The moving company sent someone to come and give us a quote this morning. I now know that I have less than 4,000 pounds of stuff. At least, I hope it’s less. At $1/lb, I’m rooting for less, not more. It was weird to walk through the apartment and think of packing everything up. Moving it. Leaving.

*sigh*

Going is fun. Leaving is sad. Too bad you can’t do one without the other.

Yet another thing I like about heaven: you never have to leave.

:-%,/|} As I mentioned, things are a bit undone around here, thanks to me not keeping up with my chore schedule. Know what’s funny? From the age of 4 or 5 until Jameson was born, I have lived by a schedule and routine. While feeling totally undone after having a baby, I realized that it probably had a bit to do with the fact that, for the first time in my life, I didn’t have a regimen for every day of the week.

Boy, do I like routine.

More like Looooove routine.

And I’ve realized, in this last month of slacking off, that one reason I like having my responsibilities assigned and scheduled is that it’s the only way to live ahead of the natural entropy of life. Instead of my housework being a reaction to what’s the dirtiest, I’m cleaning before it gets bad. I like that feeling. And I’ve always been that way. I was not the student who crammed for a test, or only practiced because I had a concert coming up.

Our souls thrive in order, and order comes through routine.

Okay. That was my little pep talk. Get back on the ball, Danica.

:-%,/|} Being goal-oriented is not fun much of the time. Just when I think I’ve mastered the art of focusing on people, I realize I haven’t at all. Like, last week I thought about how I’ve gotten better about waking up and thinking about what would bless Ryan and Jameson — and then making my to-do list with them in mind. Wow, Danica. Way to put people first. But then I realized that as soon as I’ve determined what will bless them, I have to get those things done, and heaven forbid Ryan or Jameson (or anyone else) get in my way.

Oh dear. Dying to self is hard. Does everyone else know that? Is it only me who is surprised by how hard it continues to be?

:)

:-%,/|} This has been on my heart the last few days, “Behold, children are a gift of the LORD, the fruit of the womb is a reward.”

How much self there is that stands between us and truly understanding that. I was inspired again as I heard my father praising my mother for embracing that truth completely — even though it meant so much death.

But as with all Kingdom principles, that initial death is only that true life may come. And all of the selfishness that clouds our vision will be shown for the pathetic guise of happiness that it really is when we decide to embrace what God calls truth.

In this, as well as in our ideas of womanhood, our culture has wandered so far from a biblical standard that a moderately secular worldview becomes palatable to us. But there is so much more to be discovered, and so much more joy and freedom to be found, in the whole truth of God.

Lord, open my eyes, so “[I] will know what is the hope of His calling, what are the riches of the glory of His inheritance in the saints, and what is the surpassing greatness of His power toward us who believe.”