Adventures in Writing #4 - {On Prayer}

Tuesday Thoughts is where I pick a topic that’s on my mind, set a timer, start with “Go”, write about it for five minutes, and end with “Done”. Editing is non-existent and I am grateful for that since I can spend hours fine-tuning and agonizing over a post.  Even writing this paragraph, I've written and rewritten it about five times, sent it to my hubby to edit, rewritten it, and am still debating whether it's acceptable.

In this exercise, I am enjoying the freedom to just write, without stressing about perfection or what others might think. This is my lovelimess after all.

....

(This particular post was written several months ago when I wasn't blogging, but just enjoying writing for its own sake. Since then, we've gone through several more cars. Just in case you were wondering.)

(Andy's "small" collection of Toyota MR2s from back in the day)

Go

Our old car murmurs in the background as we drive.  This car is the newest in the series of junkers we've gone through, but I like this one. Old leather seats, worn and ripping, mould themselves around you, and the windshield has a few battle cracks. Our iPhone plays worship songs quietly in the background as we drive and chat.

"What am I supposed to be doing with my life?" he asks as we drive along. Today has been a hard day, full of things gone wrong, complacency that eats away at your motivation, and a creeping sickness that we're both sniffling away at.

"Have you prayed about it?" I ask quietly, hoping he knows I care.

"I'm not good at that."

"At praying?"  I know he hates praying in public - it feels so forced sometimes.

"Yeah. At praying. I just don't know what to say. I feel like I'm always saying what I think other people want me to say, instead of having a conversation with God. I just don't know how to pray like that."

My mind whirrs.  How does one pray?  My bible study on Discerning the Voice of God by Priscilla Shirer runs through my head in clips and flashes.  How do I pray? I ask myself.

"Start with the truth. Tell God you don't know what to say or how to pray and ask Him to teach you."   It's what I did several years ago and only now am I realizing that God has been answering that prayer. I am learning to pray.

It didn't start with a sudden revelation or even some great new understanding about how to pray. I just talked to God and I told Him the truth.

I don't understand You. I don't know how to talk to You. Sometimes I feel irreverent. I know I'm in the presence of the God of the Universe, and I don't know what to say.

And then He began to change my prayers and as He did, he has begun to change me. But then I suppose that talking with the Creator of the universe is bound to leave an impression on a person. I think about those early days and I thank God for what He is doing in me. Even this week, God has been peeling back another layer of pride in my life and teaching me about humility in prayer.

As the car moves forward, we move with it, into uncharted territories of the holy, bringing our limited perspectives to the Omniscient and asking for grace as we press in to know Him more.  

Done

Adventures in Writing #3 - {Home}

Tuesday Thoughts is where I pick a topic that’s on my mind, set a timer, start with “Go”, write about it for five minutes, and end with “Done”. Editing is non-existent and I am grateful for that since I can spend hours fine-tuning and agonizing over a post.  Even writing this paragraph, I've written and rewritten it about five times, sent it to my hubby to edit, rewritten it, and am still debating whether it's acceptable.

In this exercise, I am enjoying the freedom to just write, without stressing about perfection or what others might think. This is my lovelimess after all.

....

(This post was written last January after we had moved into our old little farm home. The front door now allows guests, but our friends are more like family and they all come in through the laundry room anyway.)

(Andy and Isabel 2013)

Go

The pellet stove is burning warmly, chasing away the bitter chill of this drafty old house. We’ve been here for a month now and have experienced life without a dishwasher or any heating besides the little pellet stove in the corner. We’ve left a house with four bedrooms (that we barely used), new appliances that did amazing things, arching ceilings, and everything suburbia offers, and moved into this little 127 year-old dilapidated home full of ladybugs, sloping floors and holed ceilings.

And the most incredible part of it all? I love it.

I love it more than I loved our “perfect” suburban home with my huge bathtub and walk-in closet.  

In this old charmer, I walk in and I feel at home. Sure, the floor is a little slopey and, yes, you do have to come in through the laundry room, but every day here feels like home.

The wall in the laundry room has hash-marks where Andy was measured as a child - where we’ll measure Isabel next to her papa.  The living room is small and warm and cozy and pulls me in to linger there, cozying up beneath blankets listening to the fire flicker in the pellet stove.  The chill of our bedroom encourages snuggling beneath covers as we laugh to keep warm together.   Isabel crawls around and can go anywhere in the house unhindered and she loves this new freedom.

Life here isn’t full of perfection, but it is so full of joy that it feels like our little home will burst with it.

Done.

5 Things I've Learned From My Mom

I've learned more from my mom than can easily be summarized in five points. In fact, this post has been incredibly difficult to write because I am having a hard time choosing just five things.   She is my best friend, my person I go to when I'm crying and sobbing and can't handle life, she's the person I call when I'm most excited, and the person who has always believed the best of me - even when I didn't deserve it. I love you mom.

1.  Deep conversations are the best conversations

Whether by example, or the fact that our personalities are similar, I've found that I have an intolerance for casual conversation. I want the heart and life and the soul of a conversation and I'd rather skip over the pleasantries altogether to just speak and hear about what matters. I remember whenever I'd come home from school or camp, my mom would start with the best questions and listen and listen and before I knew it, I was pouring out heart and soul, sharing everything that mattered and my thoughts and feelings and struggles and disappointments and dreams...  Maybe because she modeled these conversations in our home or maybe because she always valued the sharing of the heart that I find that I do too.

2. Beauty matters

My mom modeled for me that beauty matters.  Both the unfading beauty that is buried inside and the exterior beauty that the world sees have value.  She taught me that caring for yourself means becoming a person of integrity and character while still valuing and caring for the physical body that God has given. So every morning, we'd chat in her bathroom, smearing makeup, laughing together, blow drying hair, talking about life, and preparing our physical selves to go out into the world. While she also invested hours and years into caring for our character, our inner strength, and our love for God. And when I look at my mom now, I see Beauty shine from her, an inner beauty that flows outward and glows just behind her physical beauty, illuminating my life and the world around her.

3. Children are a gift from God

I know they are. I do. But sometimes it is so hard for me to see past the moment into who these little people are becoming. But my mom does. She sees it so clearly sometimes that I can't help but want her glasses over my eyes helping me see them with the clarity that she has.  I love my children, but I forget that every moment-becomes-a-day-becomes-a-week-becomes-a-lifetime... And then they are grown and gone. I forget, but she remembers. And I need that.

4. Everyone is interesting

I'll admit it. I might assume things about people before I really KNOW them. I might think a person has nothing I might be interested in hearing, but then I watch my mom talk to someone and before I know it, their struggles and hopes are laid out on the table and tears are flowing and hugs are being given and new friendships are forged. And I stand there gaping like a fish out of water wondering how she does it -  how she truly cares about every person that she meets... I want to be like that.

5. Memories are worth making and keeping

"If my house was burning down and I could only save one thing - I'd save my photos."  This was said countless times around our home and now I realize why. My mom values memories. She has invested years into our lives and the lives of others and, at the end, all that is left on this earth are memories and relationships. Both are worth cherishing.

Who knew?

What have you learned from your mom?

Adventures in Writing #2 - {Running}

Tuesday Thoughts is where I pick a topic that’s on my mind, set a timer, start with “Go”, write about it for five minutes, and end with “Done”. Editing is non-existent and I am grateful for that since I can spend hours fine-tuning and agonizing over a post.  Even writing this paragraph, I've written and rewritten it about five times, sent it to my hubby to edit, rewritten it, and am still debating whether it's acceptable.

In this exercise, I am enjoying the freedom to just write, without stressing about perfection or what others might think. This is my lovelimess after all.

...

(Going running for the first time after Melody was born.)

Go.

My feet pound against the ground. Shudders climb my legs as I propel one foot in front of the next. Run. Run. Run.

Breath pounds in my lungs, an aching clawing pain, but my feet keep moving and my brain prods my body to push itself just a little farther. A couple feet longer.

My legs slow and I walk, breathing steadier, but feeling the ache of the run in my legs, in my knees, in my heart. Training is hard. It sucks your breath away, makes your heart beat, strips you of weakness and leaves strength in its place. It makes me want to vomit, it makes my body burn, and it hurts.

I'm enough for you. He whispers it in the wind on the road. And I know it's true. He's been enough through each push and pull, each need from little hands or mouths. He's been enough for the brokenness in the world around me. And, always, again, He is enough for me.

So I keep running. Putting one foot in front of the other.

I know what waits at the end of the race and so I keep pressing on. Pushing my body past it’s limits into the realm of His strength. And I feel my lungs fill with breath that is not my own and my body propelled by His power. The running, it hurts and it burns, but it is sweet too.

Done.

 

Adventures in Faith - {Washed}

I hate this. I’m sitting at my computer again begging God to change His mind. He’s been clear and I keep pushing, arguing, bartering, and asking for another way.

Unlike Jesus, who bowed before His Father and said, “Your will be done,” I keep dancing around the issue and asking for my will be done. Even as I type these words, disobedience flares in sparks of the heart. I’m tiptoeing around the line He’s drawn in the sand, wondering if He really means it.

But He’s drawn the line and I’m fixated on it.  I’m trying to hold his hand and walk away at the same time. I want to cross the line, blur it, change it, make it optional. I want my will be done.

But I yield. 

Once again, as I submerse myself in the soothing waters of our old tub, He speaks. It's here I’m baptized in repentance and submission.  In my tiny echoing bathroom, He speaks the loudest, breaking through the chaos of my desires and the pushes of my heart. 

It’s my cleft in the rock, like the man named Moses who saw the back of God: this simple bathroom where the Holy One passes by.

Or maybe, like Elijah who heard the Lord in a still small whisper, it is here in this humble place that I really listen.

“Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind, there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave.

Then a voice said to him, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” 1 Kings 19:11-13

I am standing before a Holy God who is asking me what I’m doing there and I want to have an answer that is BIG and mighty, like the grandeur of the elements, but I can barely choke out a response and I can only cover my face. My little rebellion seems so petty in light of all He is.

I’m here to follow You. I'll give it all if it means having You. It's not what I say, but it is what I want. Truth be told, I'm still arguing with God there in that ancient fiberglass bathtub. I'm struggling to hang on to what I want; grasping at the dreams and plans I've built for myself.

But He's come not seeking what is mine, but me. He isn’t settling for my “good deeds” or my pathetic offerings, He is asking for it all. And I know I can’t hold it back, not for a second nor a year.

As I plunge beneath the waters in our old tub, I’m washing away resistance and the grime of my stubborn rebellion - an appeal to God for a good conscience through the resurrection of Jesus Christ - and I pull myself up and out, washed in the water of His word.

This cleansing is just the beginning, so I towel off, get ready, and start the day. Because after the washing, the work begins.

“For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all men, instructing us to deny ungodliness and worldly desires and to live sensibly, righteously and godly in the present age, looking for the blessed hope and the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Christ Jesus, who gave Himself for us to redeem us from every lawless deed, and to purify for Himself a people for His own possession, eager to do good works.”  Titus 2:11-14

© Elisha Catts - Willamette Christian Church Baptism

(Scripture quoted/paraphrased/referenced: Luke 22:42 - Your will be done, Exodus 33 - Moses sees God's back, 1 Kings 19 - Elijah hears God whisper, 1 Peter 3:21 - "...appeal to God for a good conscience...", 2nd Corinthians 2:14 - "...seek not what is yours, but you...", Titus 2:11-14)

5 Things I've Learned From Becca

Everyone wants your advice.

Or so the unstated philosophy of my family goes.  They have a catch phrase that precedes any tidbits of advice that they will push on you, solicited or not.  It goes: If there is one thing I've learned in my life...

In honor of them [and unsolicited advice everywhere], I've created the Five Things I've Learned... series on this blog.

Be prepared to be amazed by the unsolicited tidbits of life-learning I will pass on to you.

....

5 Things I've Learned...

From Becca

1. Nail care is an art. 

Seriously, guys, Becca has mastered the art of nails. It baffles me. I can count the number of times I've painted my nails on one hand. Courtesy of Becca, I'm currently sporting these colors. Well, the green at least. A certain newborn prevented us from finishing with the lovely sparkles.

2. How to talk your way into discounts.

If you don't believe me, hang out with Becca and you'll stand in awe of her skills. I'm pretty sure she could convince anyone into just about anything.  She has perfected garage sale-ing into a work of genius that would amaze the best dealers-and-wheelers. Not lying, she's had stores pay her to take their product. Now that is just impressive.

3. How to quilt.

I've never been a girly-girl. And generally speaking, I loathe all things domestic. Yet, somehow, Becca with her amazing talk-anyone-into-anything skills convinced me to learn to quilt. And I have. And I love it. I'm officially WAY more obsessed with quilting than she has ever been.

4. How to take an awesome selfie.

This photo speaks for itself. Who can best this?

5. That laughter can be found in the most unexpected places.

Being around Becca means discovering humor anywhere. She has such a sharp mind and wit that she'll leave you rolling and your eyes balling from the funny and the whimsy and the comical and the brilliant  that she finds in the world.

This girl rocks.

Who knew?

Pinterest is a Liar: {Toddler Hair Side-Twist}

You guys, let's be honest, I love pinterest. I probably am your annoying friend who over pins.

There are just so many amazing inspiring brilliant ideas on pinterest and, as my memory is practically useless, I pin things. So I can find them later. And make them. And eat them. And build them. And....

And then I looked the other day and realized, I have 2,160 pins.

Okay, not as bad as some I'm sure, but I've pinned a lot more things than I'll ever create or need which caused me to think: I either need to start making things or stop pinning. And, of course, the latter isn't really an option afterall (is it?), so I'm starting the Pinterest is a Liar series (or not!) wherein I start trying pinterest recipes, craft ideas, lesson planning, and inform you, the average normal non-crafty citizen of the world, how possible these gorgeous DIY options actually are.
...

Toddler Hair Side Twist

I found this amazing video on pinterest a couple weeks ago wherein a mom styles her daughter's hair in about five minutes flat and it looks AMAZING!

So I thought to myself - that looks easy! - and proceeded to try it out on Isabel.

Okay friends, two year olds don't sit still no matter how many lollipops you give them. I wish. 

Our time was spent half wrangling hair and half pinning Isabel between my legs as I unsuccessfully attempted to twist and pull her fine baby hair into a semi decent arrangement.

Still, I was hoping. Since she wouldn't sit still long enough for me to twist hair chunks all the way around her head, I tried various combinations of rubberbanding sections of her hair together. Don't do it. It doesn't work.

Attempt #1:  I could hardly get her to stop moving to take a picture, but the front looked kind of cute while the back was a complete and utter fail. I tried twisting both sides into a V in the back. Not so cute.

Attempt #2:  I started twisting all the way around and when I got half way, I realized I had no idea how Mrs. SuperHairMom was able to keep the hair from falling out on the sides as she went around. I subsequently tried rubberbanding the top right section and begin pulling hair from the left to meet in the back. It stayed in longer than the hair attempt number one, but really didn't look that cute. 

Except from the angle in the photo below. It looks kind of cute from a top view. Kind of. 

If you have hair to play with, I'd love to see if you are able to make it work. I really think this pin has potential and the wiggly two year old thing really mussed me up. 

Please try it and let me know if you have more success than I have and what your secrets are!