My home, an ark?

"L'Arche offers a home to broken people and gives them a new sense of dignity and self-respect." ~ Henri Nouwen. What is my home like? Do I treat my husband with honor and dignity, or with contempt and disrespect? Lately, I've shown my disdain with my tone of voice and eye-widening gazes to say, "You're not respected." What about as a mother? Do I take the time from my hurried work to help two small girls grow in confidence with their various tasks and explorations? Am I too preoccupied with building my next project, achieving the next badge of skill?


The ark is a picture of safety from the storm. But, this week my home has not been that ark. My own heart has not been an ark. I have to turn to the one person who is always an ark of safety, God Almighty; trusting as I walk in, dirty and broken from my journey, that He will wash my feet, and restore my joy. Perhaps in gazing at Him through prayer, I can receive a taste of safe love and learn to resemble such patience and acceptance towards those closest to me. Maybe then, they will remember to turn to God while in their own storms. For now, my prayer? "God, be my ark".

Holy Tepot and the Girl Song

Today was one of those days when my daughter's mouth would not stop running and I think I can count how many times I heard my name in upwards of 100+. But, as frazzled and exhausted I am by my little talker, my "mini-me", I have to end the day chuckling. As we drove into the parking lot of Home Depot this evening, Riley exclaimed in delight, "Holy Tepot!" Two obvious things there: (1) the level of excitement and (2) the name. And then on the way home, she wanted to listen to the "Girl Song" or as some of you will know it by the name "Paradise" by Coldplay. I loved hearing her sing to it in the back seat with the stereo booming. Good times!

Hidden Immigrants

Hidden immigrants look like they are native born, like they fit in. But, when you interact with them, there is something as distant and unreachable in their personhood as the foreign country in which they were raised or in which they lived for an extended period of time.

This last week has been so encouraging for me as I met a hidden immigrant from Spain and immigrants from South Africa and Finland. We may have lived in vastly different countries, but we don't have to justify our existence, or explain why we see things differently. Being different brings a sense of belonging.

Christ-followers are anything but similar. They come from all types of family backgrounds, countries, economic and social status groups. Yet, their love for Jesus unites them. But, that's typically where the commonality stops. Division sets in with music preference, dress, who has been on a mission group, who is more committed at church, who has life more put together, and so on.

I read this morning that Christianity is the only faith in which its members claim that following God is a delight. Sadly, that delight is experienced privately, between the believer toward God and withheld from Christians whose differences pose some sort of threat.

Western Christians often live as hidden immigrants. They carry inside them a foreign beauty that comes out when around Christians they get-along-with or when on trips of goodwill and mercy. Their beauty decays when its compartmentalized to certain groups, times or places. This beauty is not of their own making, but comes from God. They have a unique privilege of living IN this beauty, whether they are among other Christians or not.

Hidden immigrants know where they are from. They carry the beauty of the old home within them. They love connecting with others from that world. But, this hidden culture, in all its beauty, becomes toxic if loneliness, isolation, discontent, suspicion or pride sets.

I am challenged by what it means to walk with integrity in who God made me and in how to share the wealth given me. The best example is Jesus, and I don't mean that tritely. Christ was the ultimate hidden immigrant. He came from heaven to a depraved world that did anything but accept him. He had every reason to judge the pettiness in others or to withhold his love from those who annoyed him. Yet he lived with integrity; true to himself and to God and God's kingdom ways. He did not live to exert his perfect self, or to belong to the best group of Hebrews.

Jesus shared his beauty when teaching in and out of synagogues; when extending mercy while on trips to other towns, and when walking the streets in his own hometown. His passion, his worship, his connection with others was not relegated to what he was doing nor to his location. His passion was in in God the Father and so the Father was in him.

I find comfort in God's compassion towards me, that He remembers my frame. He knows how I am made and how I struggle walking in integrity with Him in me. I don't have to be perfect. I just need to walk.

Work, Wealth & Poverty

"He wanted to be poor with the poor." I keep thinking about what I read this morning from Henri Nouwen in his book, "The Road to Daybreak", about the founder of L'Arch. Who wants to be poor? And who wants to live with the poor; besides NGO workers, missionaries, Catholic Sisters and Priests? 

My working definition of labor is to strive in some purposeful direction, to attain something, rise above or go beyond the present condition. When I worked in mortgage finance, I strived to close as many houses in a month as possible. I once labored to increase the number of health care users among Latino employees. I've helped improve the language ability among Spanish and English learners. I have tried to grow two different sole proprietorships. I've tried improving my housekeeping and parenting skills and to live in a more loving and understanding with my husband. I guess I know something about striving.

In my drive for more, why would I ever want to have less or live with those with less; unless it were to boost my own sense of value? And yet, to be Christian is to want to be more like Jesus. And to be more like Jesus is to have less. Jesus, the eternal, powerful, self-sustaining, contented God, gave up such wealth to live among the poor of this earth, me and you - that he might make us rich in ways we can not possibly begin imagining.

This morning, I read in Psalm 103 in the Bible that God is compassionate with me, slow to anger, gracious, abounding in kind love. He has removed my guilt and shame as high as the heavens, so great is his love. He does not treat me as my brokenness deserves. As I read these words, my broken, downcast heart began to heal. I felt thirsty, and at the encouragement of God in Revelation 22:17, I came to him freely, wanting as much as He might give to restore me. 

How might I approach work in light of such wealth from God? For me, it means being less self-absorbed in my tasks; which I typically do to medicate my own loneliness and emptiness. It means pausing from my "have-to-dos" to read a story or acknowledge my daughter's latest discovery. It means fixing another meal, handling more bodily fluids, and receiving little, if any notice from others. It means becoming poor; intentionally living with the poor. My daughters are not poor, like the child in this picture. But, they are dependent emotionally, physically and mentally on the help of others. To be a child is to need. If one is in need, one is poor. 

If you or I want to be near Jesus, then this means going where He might be found in our places of work. For a stay-at-home mother it might mean finding him changing a diaper. Or as a parent, seeing him help with homework instead of reading or watching t.v. Or as a husband, watching him listen, yet again, to his wife's detailed stories or complaints. Or as a student, watching him befriend the unpopular classmate or striving for that B that never gets noticed. Or in the office, finding him quietly filing another's work, or going to lunch with coworkers he knows will gossip and complain. Or finding him praying in a quiet room, accepting (in the world's eyes) a lesser job position, less valued work, or less pay; or death on a cross - all out of love of God's love for him, and his love for others.

My prayer today. "Father, help me cease striving, accept and rest in the wealth you've given me and put in my heart the love you have for the poor around me. Protect me from judging others because as you say, 'I myself do the same as they'. I ask this confidently because Jesus' death made it possible for me to approach you, Amen."

A Lighter Side of Life

This morning I woke up asking God to lighten the day. Of course the day isn't ending in peals of laughter, but here are a few highlights that remind me to (1) not be too introspective and (2) include these in my 'Blessings' journal tonight.

1. Appeals for "macanoni n cheese" while shopping
2. Red faced and fixing my shirt in the middle of Costco after my toddler pulled at my shirt loudly asking "to see...."
3. Watching Riley eat a huge hot dog with 'reds and yellows' on it and covering her face in it
4. Watching Cara knock a large Sprite off the table and all over the floor to the disdain of hurried office workers on their lunch break
5. Feeling embarrassed at my lack of lunch control while watching a mother of six boys!!!
6. Reading Cinderella to a VERY captive audience
7. Organic Chocolate Chocolate Chip Ice Cream from Whole Foods, is there anything better during naps?

How can I not smile at these small blessings and awkward moments? I've started recording these blessings in a journal over the last month, in response to the book "One Thousand Gifts" - which I've temporarily put down because its a little too serious for me right now. But, I love the idea of looking for God's personal gifts to me in every day life. I encourage you to do the same!

Cities, Subs & Silos

How does one live contentedly and at peace with where they are? I often get this itch to live in the city, with all its energy, people, noises, smells and events. I grew up in a city of 34 million people. I've travelled to a few cities in Europe, Asia, Central and North America. I love cities. But, I also love the countryside and have visited the farm of distant relatives in Schenectady, NY. I love the isolation and smells of mountain forests and the healing sound of ocean waves. But the suburbs? I became truly acquainted with suburb life while in college, where the surrounding city had under 1 million residents. What's to love about this attempt to combine city commodities with country space? Starbucks drive-thru, backyards, shopping malls, fireflies, chain restaurants, increased safety...

What does the city have that a suburb does not? Varying answers abound, and often with a tone of snobbery that accompanies those who, by their physical location, seem to claim they have reached the apex of a meaningful living. A suburb may have the appearance of little energy, but I find the non-stop pace and loneliness of city life carries on in the homes and hearts of suburb dwellers. And I am certain that men and women attempting to fill silos with 24/7 labor, depending on variables completely outside their control, would also show heart struggles similar to city and suburb dwellers.

As a mother, working full-time in the our home, with children age 3 and under, I miss the freedom of eating out whenever I want, having a little money for travel that isn't only to see extended family. I miss the value that volunteer work for city needs once gave my life. But, I need not look for my value in what I do, where I live or in other's opinions (or perceived opinions) of me. My life has value because over two thousand years a poor man died to give me life and freedom and he did this before I ever achieved or became anything by my culture's standards.

I recently read an interesting bit from famous 19th Century London author and preacher, Charles Spurgeon, which prompted this post. He comments on a passage in the Bible (I Chronicles 4:23) which talks about menial, unknown laborers working for the King as lowly potters and farmers. He says, "They may have desired to live in the city, amid its life, society, and refinement, but they kept their appointed places, for they also were doing the King's work. The place of our habitation is fixed, and we are not to remove from it out of whim and caprice, but seek to serve the Lord in it, being a blessing to those among whom we reside." And then he says, "In all works of faith we may count on Jesus' fellowship. It is when we are in his work that we may reckon his smile. Ye unknown workers... be of good cheer...Dwell ye with the King for his work, and when he (God) writes his chronicles your name shall be recorded."

My work may be unknown by my city, it may lack meaning as defined by religious and irreligious culture because I am not working outside the home. But, nor I am more superior by closing my Mary Kay business and choosing to stay at home full-time right now. I have value because Jesus chose to place his spirit within me. I can walk and talk with him, no matter where I live, what my roles or tasks may be. Therein, I am slowly discovering a contentment not of this world.

Home Management System

Before I married, I searched for effective time management at work, but as a stay-at-home mother and wife, life continues to get more complex. I've used a version of the below schedule for over 4 years now and have made some recent adjustments. Its not something I use every week but, when after a busy season, this schedule is comfortable and easy to fall back into. I share this only because I figure it could spur ideas in the care of your own life. Its in no way meant as a brag board. Every life is different, with its own set of obligations, circumstances and people to love. But, if you need structure, like I do, then it may help.

The weekly chart goes in my Home Management Binder, which I try to reference at the start and/or end of each day. I print one for each new week. I do not number my priorities since they constantly change and I want to be flexible and yet still have a guide.

One thing not in the weekly calendar is a Laundry Day because I like doing one load of laundry daily, from start to finish (except on Sunday, if I can help it).

The Prioritization Chart has been the recent key to my success in better carrying out my goals. I took categories from Kenneth Blanchard's book, "On Time Manager", and created this check list.

The most rewarding part of this prioritization chart is how it eliminates a lot of guilt from unfinished tasks and the self-imposed shame from broken verbal commitments. It helps me stay focused.

One thing I try to add each week is doing one special thing for each person in my family. For example, intentionally playing dolls with Riley, or fixing a candlelight dessert for Jon. I got this idea from Linda Dillow's book, "Creative Counterpart", and its wonderful.

I hope this post serves to encourage as you seek ongoing ways of loving others and working well with the time given you. Let me know if you want me to send you the actual excel document so that you can adapt your own. (Ie. If your days off are on Sun/Mon, then move my Sat ideas to your Mondays).

The Agony of Waiting

A family trip to a Costa Rican beach at the age of eight carries memories of Dad's injuries on a reef while snorkeling, my sister burnt pink and my brush with death. My friends and I swam in the waves as moms chatted on the beach. When suddenly a mighty force sucked me down and away from safety. I clamored in the dark, breath escaping, terror on every side. Then, clasp... A rock fills my small hands as the water rushed past. And as suddenly as I was pulled away, the ocean catapulted me in summersaults toward the beach. Choking for air, I stumbled towards my mother, exclaiming my brush with death. She murmured "Uh-huh" in that characteristic Mommy-distracted way. Even though my rescue went unnoticed, I scampered on with full assurance that God had saved me; and He knew it, too.

So, yesterday, I faced another grueling day of waiting. Waves of unknown possibilities raced past me as I clamored the minutes for reassurance and hope. Then His words, written for me, said, "I am your rock". Safety. But, can I trust God's safety? Life is hard, scary and the promise of Paradise is not for this life. Can I hold on? Or will I be washed away by this sea of darkness?

Then a reminder, a rock of promise cupping my hands. The image of a guiltless man dying in agony on a cross, waiting... Waiting for the end. But, this savior, my savior, faced his darkness with no Savior. His father would not rescue him, but instead rejected him in disgust. The sky turned dark, and as the waves of death pull Jesus, he let go and did not reach for safety. He cried in agony to his father, but still let the waves take him. God, his father, did not give him a rock. He let him die.

Father and son waited in agony for three days. Separated. Then a catapult. The Father grabbed is lifeless son and took him to shore, completely restored. This resurrection became the promise for me, my family, and any who will believe that God overcame death. The great terrors and despairs of this world will not take me out to sea and leave me there alone. Unlike Jesus, the Father, has given me a rock. Salvation. If I believe that Jesus died for me, that someone with the power over death really made a way for me to escape eternal, terror-filled darkness, then I will reach Paradise.


This promise of blissful rest became food for the day; a taste of Paradise. No matter how hard my waiting, it will never be like the waiting of Jesus on the cross. What strong love; compelling me to live in grateful hope, as God continues rescuing my frightened mind endless images of Paradise.

House Cleaning - Part 2

I've been organizing my home to maximize space, simplify my cleaning and live in a more cost-effective and eco-friendly way. Here are some things I've tried so far that have been working:

Gathered chords under my desk

I bought two shoe racks. One for my laundry room to hang cleaning supplies. It has eliminated a vast amount of clutter, helped my easily find products. And it will keep me from buying multiples. The second shoe rack is on the back of the pantry door. It holds oatmeal packs, straws, chocolate chips, and other small items that clutter my pantry.

Yesterday I used the lemon in the showers and it made them look brand new, even my husband noticed. One bathroom faucet lost nearly all of its stains I inherited from the previous owner! This one lemon did more than my bottle of 409 has ever done.

I bought a pack of three-in-one skirt hangers from Walmart and picked my boots up off the closet floor. Ahhh,  floor space...

 I bought a tackle box in the fishing department at Walmart and organized the battery packs floating around in my kitchen door!

 I bought a cereal box from Kroger and if anything, it helps me feel cleaner, asid from the fact that it is working. I dropped the middle consul in the van and placed it in between the seat, along with my purse.

I've been doing this for a few years, but it works and I love it. Take a lint roller to your lamp shades. Its works so fast!

This morning I gave our coffee pot its first vinegar treatment. Don't ask how long its been since I've had the coffee maker. But, it should help improve the taste of our Dunkin Donuts coffee. Take one cup of vinegar and two cups of water, pour in, with a clean coffee filter. Run the coffee pot. Unplug and let it sit for 15-20 minutes. Pour our water and dispose of the filter. Fill pot with water and run the coffee maker two times to get rid of the vinegar taste. Use a paper towel to wipe down the interior crevices while there is moisture.



** All images gathered from the web and pinterest. My own aren't far off!

House Cleaning Made Easier!

I've found some new tips that have been changing how I care for the home. Dare I say that I'm actually enjoying it a lot more?! Here is what I've started doing that's actually working:

1. Clean one room daily for 10 mins and do not leave that room until the time is up (I use a timer). Leave one 15-45 mins cleaning for the weekend, but let it be a specific task that needs more than 10 minutes.

2. Work in one direction, like clockwise, and then from top to bottom.

3. Run the dishwasher at night and empty it in the morning.

4. Do a morning and evening cleaning burst to straighten up for the day; like making sure the sink is empty.


More to come later. Let me know what's working for you!

Buffalo Chicken Dip, Slaves & Flurries

This Monday we had friends over for the AL vs LSU game. I had so much fun setting up some decorations, making some 'guy food' for Jonathan and his buddies. My Blue Moon was mighty tasty! Coming from a wine girl, that's saying something!! The guys LOVED the beef hoagies and buffalo chicken dip; though I'm not a fan of Buffalo flavored anything.

And there is nothing like some winter flurries to inspire writing. What I can't get out of my head is what I read this past weekend in Matthew 24:42-51. Jesus encourages listeners to lookout for his return. His words have inspired my work as house manager and mother. He compares His relationship with his followers to that of a slave and his master (keep the early 1st century cultural context of 'slave & master' in perspective). He says, "Who then is the faithful and sensible slave whom his master put in charge of his household to give them their food at the proper time? Blessed is that slave whom his master finds so doing when he comes. Truly I say to you that he will put him in charge of all his possessions."

So, as I care for the home, its actually not my household nor Jonathan's, its God's. He has entrusted me with His home and the precious lives in it. I'm often tempted to ignore the girl's needs and delay meeting them in order to pursue my own interests ("for a break") but the question is are they getting their needs met at the "proper time"? I'm am so motivated to dedicate myself wholeheartedly to caring for this home and giving thoughtful and purposeful training in raising these girls.

I would love for Jesus to return and welcome him in my home. This has been a positive cure for laziness, fear-driven labor or people-pleasing. I have been placed in care of God's home, this home. And if I am faithful with it, God will place me in care of his possessions. Mind-boggling. Why succumb to cultural pressures to get a corporate job in order to feel valuable and significant. I am significant because I am God's and He has placed me in charge of the most treasured things of His!

Applying the faith and work concept

This morning I am touched by the encouragement of Charles Spurgeon to bask in the words "I will be their God" in Jeremiah 31:33. And then I read in Matthew 28, "I am with you always". The goal is experiencing the presence of God. The work? To practice and remember this reality throughout today.

Faith & Work: As a Stay-At-Home-Mom

Right now I work part-time with Mary Kay Cosmetics (don't laugh!) but most of my full-time work is as a home manager and mother. I'm interested in talk directed towards the role of faith and work in the life of the stay-at-home mother. So far, most is limited in scope, imagination and application.

I have not arrived at any firm conclusions, but the following thoughts and parallels stand out and are written from my Christian worldview:

1. When faith is present, one's identity is not in the type of profession, but in being part of the Church. In other words, I am not a stay-at-home-mom, but a woman who belongs to the body of Christ and who,  for now, works in the home. This opens so many doors for learning how to live out the buzz word, "your identity in Christ".

2. Many American Christians have become secularized by adopting the "right to choose" as the most basic and fundamental human value. For a stay-at-home-mom it can mean choosing which activities won't conflict with the family (cultural) goal of rest and recreation. After all, American culture works to play. Work, by and large, is no longer meaningful; meaning is found in recreation with billions of dollars  spent on it each year. If I am truly changed by the parable of The Good Samaritan, who stopped to aid an undesirable at great expense to his purse, his reputation, physical safety and time; then I must submit my choices to the interests of Christ.

3. Hyper-regulation of time or the extreme lack of discipline with it can lead to selfish pleasure or comfort living. I know from lots of personal experience. How do I fight against this form of cultural naval-gazing? For one example, I can look at the evangelical church. The older a church gets, the less it tends to engage society and the more it looks inward. Just as a church can become divided the older it gets, so can a family.

Jonathan and I have started out thrilled with the new lives around us. But, how can we use this season of "bunker living" to build a firm foundation in Christ's strength and direction? We could just survive. Somehow blow through these years with some happy memories and avoid the weaknesses exposed in ourselves and in our marriage because of the financial, time and physical pressures involved in raising small children. But, just like the beginning years of the early Church in the book of Acts, these bunker years set the tone for the future.

Back in the late 80's, Tim Keller described American evangelical churches as a bunch of schools. Mostly talking, little doing. Since our home is a little church, are we a lot of talk and little doing? Will the girls learn to talk with an immigrant worker's child in their classroom, or an international student (and future world leader) at their university, or will they just "know" that being friends with such people is good but only know how to engage with those who are anglo, educated and suburban? Will they know how to forgive and ask for forgiveness, how to spend money, how to submit to their husband and in so doing love the connection of that submission with how Christ submitted his will to live for their salvation?

These early, helpless years (for both parents and children), shape the older years. Unlike a young church that later turns inward, sometimes collapsing or dividing, I hope we will counter such trends and I think it begins by learning how to bring faith into the work of building a family. This is where connecting our identity with a church is vital. The church is messy at best, but its identity is connected to God and learning how of His love for the church is a key to learning how to live as a person and a family.

The Good, the Bad & the Ugly of Today!

The GOOD:
* Saturday morning pancake breakfast
* Eating dinner, which I didn't cook, at Cracker Barrel
* Playing dollies, Buzz, Woody, and Tinker Bell with Riley
* Having time for a spot of tea, from the favorite tea cup

The BAD:
* Jon having to work
* 9 month old Cara eating an entire large Kroger sticker that Riley gave her
* Riley choking and then crying at Cracker Barrel
* Having to change my clothes 4 times today


The UGLY:
* Suddenly coughing and then vomiting all over Cara (and myself) while changing her diaper and the doctor calling me back at the same time to check on Cara's swallowed sticker
* Cara later spitting up on me, again, after my clean shower
* Watching Dumbo three times today

Favorite Things for Today

So far, these are some of things making today special:

* Drinking tea out of my favorite tea cup
* Getting fully dressed (with makeup) before waking the girls
* These words by Charles Spurgeon, "Absence from Christ is hell; but the presence of Jesus is heaven."
* Fixing Riley's hair in a striking ponytail and seeing Cara smile as we practiced her sitting up!
* The new app "CCEL Bible" with morning/evening devotions by Spurgeon and Thomas A Kempis

These are a lot cheaper than Ellen's or Oprah's Favorite Things!!!

Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Life now...

Highlights from the past two months: Halloween is SO fun with a little Minnie Mouse running around! I love hearing Cara's baby laugh! Increasing my work with Mary Kay Cosmetics has been challenging and fun, even while toting two kids around town! Recent lessons have come in discovering new ways to love Jon and in accepting the incredible notion that caring for a home and two kids is God's BEST for my life right now. Contentment in this has brought much joy, freedom and focus for my life. Watching the first snow this morning just adds to the overall blessing of today!

My Parents and a Cure for Anxiety

Last night I awoke at 3am and could not go back to sleep. My eyes wide open and mind racing from one unfinished thought to the next. Some thoughts were heavy, some were not. I finally opted for a sleeping pill, but I remained anxious. As I rolled over, yet again, I prayed, "God, instruct my heart". Moments later, and seemingly out of no where, the following stream of conscious flowed through my mind.

Growing up, I was always extremely proud of my parents; their love for others and for our family. As a child, and later as a young adult, my heart beamed with pride whenever I met someone and they connected me to my parents, Jay and Maureen.

Once I left my job in professional ministry and later married, I gladly took on my new last name and the adventures before us. But, I didn't anticipate facing my own sense of inconsequentiality. What had I accomplished or ever done for others? I had not raised a family. I had not sacrificed so much comfort to go live in 3rd world country. I had not buried parents. I was not an executive pastor nor a wise and respected woman. I was just Jenny. Trying to make it as a young bride, in foreign jobs and in new cities.

As a child, I wore my parent's clothing. In a way, I found my identity based on their successes, their character, and so on. On my own, I raced to prove myself; that I was worth loving. But, deep inside I felt like a fraud and a fake.

My journey in finding a new identity is for another entry. But, last night, as I lied in bed, overwhelmed with life responsibilities and uncertainties, God gave me peace. I was once righteous, secure and loved because of who my parents were and what they had done. But, now, I wear Christ's clothing and I am righteous, secure and loved by God because of what Christ did on the cross for me. And no failure of mine can ever take that away.

Suddenly a relaxing warmth rushed over me as I pondered these truths. Christ had lived the life I should have lived. He loved others the way I should have. He succeeded the way I should have. I don't have to be alone as "just Jenny". I don't have to prove myself to my husband nor to those around me. My life is significant because Christ died for me. Within minutes my body relaxed, the pain left me and I slept. Sleeping pill or God... you can debate what put me to sleep. All I know is that my heart was instructed at a deeper level than before and I was rocked to sleep with encouragement coming from outside of myself (because we all know that I'm not that smart nor coherent at 3 in the morning!).

Riley's 3rd Birthday!

I had the best day! We had a small party with my brother and his wife and with Bob and Mimi. Some highlights: Riley in awe of the Minnie Mouse decorations as she drew in her breath and said "I love it"; watching her excitement over the polk-a-dot birthday cake and blowing out her own candles; watching her give hugs and kisses to family; hearing her say "Bob, hey Bob" over and over; watching her put on every piece of dress of clothes; having Jeff and Mary Elizabeth drive up for the day; falling asleep with a smile on my face; hearing Riley's squeals of delight with each gift. What a day. I can't wait for the main gift that's coming Riley's way - tickets to Disney on Ice to see Minnie ice skate. She's gonna FLIP OUT! And to think how much God loves to give me even greater gifts than the ones I give Riley. Why do I so often doubt His love for me?!

Meg Ryan, a Witch and a Geisha

Every time I see the beginning of 'You've Got Mail', where Meg Ryan walks blissfully down the streets of NY, coffee in hand, music in the background; something deep inside me wants to be her. Independent. Elphaba in "Wicked" wants to 'defy gravity' and pursue a life free of constraints and judgements. Sayuri in "Memoirs of a Geisha" spends her whole life trying to break away from her financial dependence.

My once hidden attitude of "You're not the boss of me" has really come to the forefront in the roles as wife and mother. With Jon, its how I resist his suggestions, make excuses or delay in keeping my word because in reality - I want to do what I want to do, when I want to do it and how I want to do it.

As a mother, I'm presently faced by the similar attitude in my two year old - how to teach obedience "without challenge, without excuse and without delay" (Tripp). The girls will learn what to look for in husband from Jon's example. But, they will learn how to follow (or submit) to employers, teachers, the law, or to the leadership of their husbands from me.

The Bible says, "submit to one another". Although this is not directed only to women, God does issue this particular command more often to women because it cuts at the heart of where we place our trust - in self as boss. The Bible goes on to say that we submit "out of reverence for Christ". What's to revere about an ancient man who was seemingly too weak to say anything in his own defense and in so submitting it cost him his life on a cross?

It takes tremendous strength to submit and not challenge; humility to honor another above one's self, and faith that in dying to self you will not go unnoticed by God. Jesus showed plenty of confidence in public before his trial; yet, he intentionally stayed quiet because he knew his death would secure the salvation of many. He loved too much and so withstood the physical pain, the blows to his reputation, the burden of God's rejection because of his faith in God. He knew that with death came resurrection.

Entering my new role of motherhood and exploring even further depths in my marriage is like what I'd picture suddenly moving to the Congo would be like - insane, filled with peril and little glory (no offense to Congo). But, I will do this because I owe too much to Christ, am too excited about the personal outcome, and too concerned for the future of my children and the world around me to not enter into it. Death can mean resurrection; for those who chose it.

Grief, Faith and Nancy Guthrie

Last night, while visiting with friends over coffee, our host, Nancy Guthrie, shared from her journey through the deaths of two children. I was struck by her willingness to lay her heart bare, especially after weekends of speaking engagements and hosting grieving families this last weekend. How does she find strength to revisit the memories, the emotions, the loss, without growing bitter or consumed by self-pity? That kind of strength, courage and selflessness must come from God.

How can I respond differently when life abruptly, painfully changes? In listening to her, I took away that there is no list of things "to do". When confronted with loss, there is only faith. Faith that God is good and that He is involved in working all things for GOOD for those who love Him.

But, where does faith come from? How can one have it? Faith is a gift from God and all I have to do is ask Him for it. I was humbled by two things as I walked away last night - (1) all the times I've said nothing to grieving friends out of fear and in turn possibly hurt them and (2) how while pregnant I often saw my condition as a 'burden I must bear' instead of as precious time to care for a child. If ever I am blessed to be pregnant again, I will think of how Nancy Guthrie carried her children and look at those 9 months differently. And the next time I see a grieving friend, I hope I will have the courage to be uncomfortable and tell them I care.

I found Nancy's website today: www.nancyguthrie.com and am considering her book "Holding on to Hope".