Checking In

 

Now that Anna Beth is mobile, walking and crawling anywhere she pleases, she’s getting a little more independent on where she wants to go.  Gone are the days where she stays right next to me, just content to be in my presence; now she’s on the go!  She wants to explore everything and every place she can. 

Even though Anna Beth’s journeys take her further away from her comfort zone right next to me, she uses a technique that I compare to that of bats using echolocation.  Bats make sounds as they fly through the dark to find out exactly where they are.  Anna Beth uses the word “hi” (said over and over) to let me know where she is and to find out exactly where I am.  If I don’t answer her “hi” check-in right away, she cries and lets it be known how unhappy that makes her.

God desires for us to check-in with Him in that same kind of way.  Our prayer relationship with Him should be constant, always letting Him know what is on our minds and where we are with Him.  It’s not that He doesn’t know how or where we stand, but He wants us to keep those lines of communication open with Him. 

1^st Thessalonians 5:17 tells us to “Pray without ceasing.”  God wants more than just a check-in of “hi” from us.  He wants a real relationship that we maintain because we want to be close to Him, to feel His love and to let Him know the desires of our hearts.  He is always near, just waiting for us to check-in with Him.

 

My storm story...one week later.

My storm story isn't much of a story at all. We were awakened by Winfield's tornado siren at 4:00 a.m. on Wednesday, April 27. Our satellite wasn't working, so I pulled up radar on my phone. We saw that the storm was north of us, in the Hamilton/Hackleburg area, so we knew we would be okay. School ended up being cancelled due to the expected bad weather to come. Jason had to go into work since our Internet got knocked out in the morning storm, and he couldn't work from home.

The kids were glad to be home. I was glad to have them here, but I worried about Jason. Turns out, Birmingham had fared much worse in the morning's storm. His office had no power, no Internet, and their generator had been hit by lightning. He hung around until it was clear no work could be done. He made it back home by noon.

As the day went on, we watched James Spann show community after community go under tornado warnings. Each storm went just barely north or south of our town. A couple got close enough to make us seek shelter in our poured concrete closet. We watched in horror, disbelief, and sadness as we watched Cullman get hit by a terrible tornado, live on camera.

Time after time, we headed for shelter, but never had any problem until our power went out at 5:00 p.m.  It was probably a blessing in disguise.

At 5:13 p.m., a massive tornado destroyed a huge portion of Jason's one-time hometown of Tuscaloosa. It played out live on tv and radio. We were blissfully unaware.

Our power didn't return overnight. We had no phone, no cell, and no Internet. Concerned family nationwide tried to call, e-mail, and text, but nothing could get through.

School was cancelled on Thursday. Landlines worked, and I found out that my parents' power was back on. We decided to see if we could pick up breakfast in town. We were stunned to see the lines all over town at the gas stations and restaurants. We still didn't understand the local scope of what had happened. With the new dawn, radio stations were reporting the devastation in Birmingham and Tuscaloosa, but no one knew exactly what was happening in our own county.

We headed to my parents' home. Dad provided coffee and tv coverage. I sat in front of their tv screen, dumbfounded. How could this have happened in my beloved Alabama? Why were we spared? Literally, you could draw a circle around my hometown and from every compass point around us, there was death, damage, and destruction in every direction. Hamilton, Hackleburg, Smithville (MS), Jasper, Tuscaloosa, Cordova, Birmingham, Cullman..."Oh, Father, have mercy," was the only prayer I could voice, and I prayed it over and over all day.

Our power returned later that afternoon. My gratefulness was saturated with sadness for my county, my state, my region. "Why, Lord, why?," I questioned, not out of anger, but grief.

I changed my mindset come Friday. I wanted, no, NEEDED to help. I'd heard that local stores were wiped out, so I raided my own stash of personal goods and baby items. For once it was good to be something of a hoarder. :)

When I finally mustered up enough courage to go to the store, I just couldn't make myself want to buy anything for my family. We had a full fridge, freezer, and pantry. We were all healthy, had clothing, and a roof over our heads. We filled up one cart with baby food, formula, and toys. Our other cart had little because we honestly needed little. I guess I have something akin to survivor's guilt. At the same time, I realize just how blessed we are. I don't deserve God's favor. None of us do.

The clean-up, rebuilding, and healing process have begun. It will be a long, painful, slow ordeal. As I was reminded yesterday as I watched Anna Beth take her first slow, shaky, unsteady steps, I realized that our state's recovery process will be shaky, uncertain, and slow, but we WILL come back from this. We WILL have the opportunities to be God's hands and feet to show His love to our fellow man. God WILL be glorified in this.

Picking Roses

Last Saturday morning I needed to fill two empty vases for table decorations at our Ladies’ Conference.  I first walked out in my garden to my white roses, since our decorating theme was all white.  My white roses looked dingy, old, and slightly wilted.  I settled for the more colorful miniature roses that grew on the other side of the garden.  They were in much better condition.  They showed no signs of decay.  They didn’t have any ragged edges and were brightly hued.  They held their petals tightly.  Most were blemish-free, looked healthy, and smelled lovely.  “Yes,” I thought, “These will have to do.”

I’m so glad that God doesn’t look at Christians the way I looked at my roses.  Sure, we all get dingy in our sin; we get tired in our Christian service; we even show signs of decay in our faith.  But God doesn’t walk away from us, even in our worst state.  He knows that we were “wonderfully made” to serve Him (Psalm 139:14).  No matter how blemished we become from sin, He can still wash us clean through the blood of His Son.  Even on our most ragged days, God can see our potential.  Romans 5:8 tells us that But “God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners.”  He mercifully looks at our hearts and says, “Yes, these are the ones that I have chosen.” 

I am so thankful that he picked me!

Counting Blessings

Has God ever spoken to you through a song?  I had it happen to me a couple of weeks ago as I sat in church.  It had been one of THOSE mornings.  You know, one where the kids didn’t want to get up, didn’t like their breakfast, one had sniffles, the other didn’t like their clothes, the baby didn’t sleep, and my shoes hurt my feet.  Yeah, one of THOSE mornings.

As we opened our hymnals to “Count Your Blessings,” I realized right then that I had not been counting my blessings; instead, I had been numbering my sorrows.  How much easier and naturally that comes to me!  God has blessed me with a wonderful, healthy family, godly parents, good health, and everything else that I need, yet, my focus is on what I don’t have, can’t obtain, and what isn’t going the way I wanted it to.  How short-sighted of me!

I felt like God was telling me that it was high time that I change my perspective on things.  I could choose to wallow in my sorrows, or I could praise Him for what He has done, is doing, and will do.  I could train my eyes to the ground and be mournful, or I could “lift up my eyes to the hills… [to] the LORD,
         Who made heaven and earth,” (Psalm 121:1-2).

It did me good to be reminded that God is in control over all.  He knows my sorrows, even the petty ones, and He still chooses to bless me, despite all my shortcomings.  I am so thankful to God that He loves me enough to show me what I’m doing wrong…and He’s just gentle enough to do it in a song.

So, I guess we are doing something right.

I know, I know.  Y'all thought I went off and shut down this blog, didn't you?  It's just that my world of sleep deprivation, diaper changes, and teething is not particularly interesting to me, so I don't feel the need to bore all of you to death with it, too.  That's not saying that I'm not still keeping up with all of you, though.  I read all of y'all's blogs like my life depends on it.  But my lack of commenting probably doesn't prove that too well.  (It's hard to type when you're holding a sleeping 26 pound 9 month old.  Oh yeah. 26 POUNDS!  Girlfriend has got to learn to walk and SOON or my tired, old back is going to give up the ghost.)

So, here is Miss Priss:

(Sorry for the blurry picture.  It's hard to hold 26 pounds steady in one arm, take a picture, and still get to church on time.)  She's teething like crazy, eating everything we offer her, and sleeping through the night occasionally when it suits her...which isn't nearly often enough for me.

Luke is doing great in school.  He just finished basketball season.  He's becoming quite the ladies' man.  He told me just the other day that he has a girlfriend and a back-up girlfriend, just in case.  Here's what makes my heart sing, though:
He loves God so much!  It makes me so proud!  (In case you can't read that, it says, "What do you believe?"  Luke wrote, "The 2,134 pages of my bible, God, and Jesus.")

Emma is doing great in school.  She's OBSESSED with the "Warriors" books, which is a series about cats and their clans and their battles and apprentices and warrior names and OHMYWORD, there's a lot of those books...and I'm not a cat person.  Suddenly, she IS a cat person, so we have something else to disagree about.  *SIGH*  Anyhow, look how grown-up and beautiful she is:

This was taken Friday, after she and I got some serious haircuts.  That was the first fun, nice thing I've done for myself since I can't remember when.  No more ponytails or clippy-up-dos for me. 

One more shot of Prissy McPrisserson before I go and don't blog for the next six blue moons:

Sweet baby has got more rolls than Pillsbury ever thought about.  Love 'em all!

Well, she has abandoned her video and found me sitting in the next room.  She booked it in here on the crawl express and is trying to eat my iPhone cord, so I'll take off. 

Friends

One of my longest friendships in my life is with a woman named Betty.  She and I became fast friends when we were in 2^nd grade.  We were in classes and Girl Scouts together up until the end of 5^th grade when she moved away.

Through college, jobs, relationships, weddings, expanding families, shared joys and sorrows, we have always remained close.  She lives in Tennessee with her husband and two boys.  We see each other maybe twice a year if we are lucky.  Yet, we still can pick up right where we left off every time we see or talk to each other.  I’m not much of a phone conversationalist, and time constraints prevent us from seeing or talking to each other as much as we’d like.  Our shared history is what keeps us close—that, and our love of God.  She inspires me through her life and testimony.

Whenever I do get the chance to call Betty, I always think when I hang up the phone: “Why didn’t I call her sooner?”  She always encourages me and says just the right things to help me feel better about the challenges I face. 

A confession:  Sometimes I say the same thing after communing with God through His Word.  I wonder why I hadn’t already turned to the Bible for encouragement, and to find just the right things to give me hope in times of adversity.  Just like friendships have to be maintained through communication, so does a relationship with our Heavenly Father.  God always has the time to spend with us, but we have to take the time out of our lives to make Him a priority.  Even though some friendships may not last, we know that “God is faithful (reliable, trustworthy, and therefore ever true to His promise, and He can be depended on); by Him you were called into companionship and participation with His Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.” (1 Corinthians 1: 9) 

Crayons

I remember the joyful feeling of opening a new box of crayons so well.  The potential of that box of crayons was just endless to a young mind.  Oh, the pictures I would color!  The sharp, little Crayolas were lined up so smartly in their neat, colorful rows.  It was perfect.

But, without fail, soon those perfect little crayons would break.  I would lose my favorite blue.  I would use the yellow down to a little nub.  Someone would swipe my red.  Eventually I would cast aside that box of crayons for a newer one and the process would start all over.

A few years ago, my kids got a neat gift for Christmas.  They placed old, broken crayons in this little machine.  A light bulb heated up the crayons and melted them down into a mold.  The old, useless crayons were reborn as new rainbow crayons.  My kids were delighted!

Have you ever felt like a crayon?  Useless and cast aside?  Unable to leave a mark on the world?  Broken or lost?  No matter how broken, useless, lost, or purposeless we feel, God can still use us.  He never casts us aside because of our brokenness.  Rather, he can use our brokenness to make something beautiful in our world. 

We never lose our potential in God’s eyes.  He sees us, the broken and sinful people that we are, but also sees our potential, because “we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do,” Ephesians 2:10.  Sometimes it takes a little heat to make us change into what God would have us to be.  It’s the difficult times that refine us, make us stronger, and more capable of doing God’s will.