Core of Carnality

It hit me again today, the dissatisfaction that comes from comparison.

Ironically, I read from A Hive of Busy Bees for the kids today and the story was entitled "Bee Content." If you know the story of the stone cutter who wanted to be a king and then wanted to be the sun and then a cloud and then ended up as a stone cutter again, you will understand the gist of this story, too. It begs the question: are we content where the Lord has placed us?

I'm not content, apparently. For just a few hours after reading the story aloud I had a conversation with a long time friend. I highly respect this woman and often "wish" I were more like her (wishing simply means I covet what she has/does). After the phone call I heard myself digress into self-pity and questioned myself and otherwise found myself lacking in comparison with my lovely friend.

Thankfully, The Lawyer reminded me that "we have a great life!" And the book I am currently reading was also a gentle reminder. In Chip Ingram's Good to Great in God's Eyes  he says, "... comparison is at the core of carnality. . . when I compare my gifts with someone else's, there are only two places to go: inferiority or superiority. I either become envious or arrogant. It's the same when I compare personalities, success, possessions, relationships, or anything else. There's no spiritual benefit to doing that, and it comes out of a carnal, self-centered heart."

Instead of thinking on our wonderful day in Winchester and choosing praise, I slid into self-centered carnality. The truth is that "we have a great life." Christ has given me all I need for life and godliness. He loves me and accepts me- today, as I am, covered by the blood of Christ. There isn't anything for me to prove. My striving leads to failing. The life I live now is a life driven by gratitude.

Sometimes we have to own up to who we really are and claim the life we really want to live.

Again, Find Joy

Oh, the story seems to be the same week after week. I want to be thankful.  I'd like to have a joyful, happy spirit. I do want my children to know I love this life. But my complaints are subtle and my standards and ideals unattainable. All of a sudden I know that my words have been hasty and short, that I have left wounded hearts behind me as I attended to the next ("more important") thing. Remorse billows in my spirit and in the same breath I vow to do better and I quit because it's too hard.

What hope is there for a sinner like me? Trying to shepherd these precious ones and knowing my insufficiency, yet trying to hide what I lack with what I do. Is it really as simple as pausing to give thanks? Has there been any true transformation of this crusty, selfish soul or am I hoping that a "thankful for" list can cover over my deep ungratefulness?

The truth is ugly and yet I still need to give thanks. I'm called to this. And the transformational work is up to Him. And I'm praying to be more willing.

So thankful for. . .

861) Handwritten letter from the 10 year old to his FL friend
862) All of the dishes done (put away even!)
863) Christmas cards from loved ones, connecting our hearts even over great distances
864) Feeling beautiful after a haircut
865) Vanilla Black tea
866) Shoes that fit L that she wore without complaint
867) T waiting for The Lawyer to rejoin our game of Uno before he would take his turn
868) Free books! For learning and learning and learning. . .
869) Tart cranberries bursting in a mouth
870) Warm comforter straight from the dryer to the bed
871) The Lawyer: "don't ever divorce me. It'll be a big mess. Or have a child out of wedlock; that would be bad, too."

Seven Dollar Sunday Dinner

This week I realized that I was murmuring just like the Israelites in the desert. . . As I puttered around the kitchen one morning I muttered, "I'm tired of beans and rice. Beans and rice. Rice and beans. Lord, provide some variety for us!"

Oh! Gasp! That sounds an awful lot like, "We're tired of manna! Manna every day! Give us something else, God!"

So. . . I'm repenting.

And also enjoying a little triumphant moment- feeding my family for about $1/person for lunch today made me feel great. We had watermelon and a version of Hoppin' John that filled everyone right full.

Today's Hoppin' John

1 pound ground venison (free gift to us!)
1 large onion (less than $1)
several stalks of chopped celery (.50)
1 cup brown rice (less than .50)
1 pound black eyed peas (about $1)
7 cups water (gift from God!)
2 cups crushed tomatoes ($1)
creole seasoning (salt, pepper, garlic, bay leaves, oregano, cayenne pepper, paprika- about 1 tsp of each except a bit more salt and a 3/4 tsp cayenne)(about .50?)

1. Brown venison and saute onion and celery.
2. Put all ingredients in a large pot (or in the slow cooker) and simmer for 1-2 hours, stirring occasionally.

December 26

I always feel a bit. . . introspective and pensive at the end of the year. This year, I'm also feeling lonely and overworked and tired. Ann Voskamp would say to fight feeling with feeling, though, and so I'll move from these feelings of self-pity and refocus on thoughts of gratitude. Oh, wait. That's supposed to be Monday's post. 

Really, now. I know I don't have any "right" to complain. As I took a walk this afternoon (very quickly before The Lawyer left), I had quite a talk with the Lord about this. Bottom line: I don't prefer serving my family and I'm pretty darn snotty about it, too. That's why I'm angry- no time, energy, comfort for myself.

Thankfully, by the end of the walk, He had softened me up to conclude that I am where I am supposed to be and that He loves me- even if I don't feel like it. Somehow, that is going to be enough. In that twenty minute walk, I went from "All I do is cook and clean up after little people! And take them potty! And try to teach them- which I'm doing poorly!" to "You love my kids (and me!) more than I do and I'm begging you to mercifully draw them to You- despite me, and I know you are FOR me and them in this."


It feels hard to celebrate Christmas and then to have my husband leave again today. To know that we have done this separation for four months and there is no end in sight. It feels so hard. And then I read this, from Amy's blog. Her circumstances are much different, but I think our conclusion is the same:


You just do the next thing and remember there is a difference between bad and tragic. And you remember the way you felt when it was heavy, and you carry that courage with you next time, to others who are suffering under loads heavier than your own. Because there will be a next time. We are in this together…and it’s no use laying down… and sometimes you just have to cry, be OK with that, and then move on.

Here's to moving on.

Integrity, Service, Life

The Token of Integrity (Elisabeth Elliot) :
"With a servant, a warrior, a child, a subject," writes Andrew Murray in The New Life, "obedience is indispensable, the first token of integrity."

"God is my Master, my Captain, my Father, my King. I am servant, warrior, child, subject. What have I to do in any of these cases but obey?

Integrity means wholeness, unbroken condition, the quality of being unimpaired and sound. An integer is something which is complete in itself, an entity. No one can serve two masters. Divided loyalty will mean impaired obedience. "A soldier on active service will not let himself be involved in civilian affairs; he must be wholly at his commanding officer's disposal" (2 Tm 2:4 NEB).

O Christ, be Master and Captain of my life. Give me a whole heart united to do your bidding and to do nothing else. Let me hear your voice and no other. Make my life an integer for your glory. Amen."


Integrity and service are on my mind.
B left this week on Tuesday night for Richmond, to start his new job Wednesday morning. He will drive home tomorrow night after work, arriving after the children are in bed. We will do the same thing next week, except it will be four days without Daddy instead of three. The next week will be five days. At this point, I'm preparing myself for many weeks of this (at least seven or eight). We haven't had any serious interest in our house and until it sells, we are not able to move to Richmond to join B.

I've not posted prior to this because I wasn't sure what I wanted to say about this (and I simply have not had any time available to put thoughts into words). There isn't much to say. This is just life now.

What I see in me is that I kick against the goads. I'm not quick to obey nor to embrace difficult circumstances. I don't serve others willingly and joyfully. I'm bothered when life isn't going the way I thought I wanted it to go. (Five children?! Live in Richmond?! Barely scraping by?! Tired?!) All of this is really just a lack of faith and a disbelief that God is good and that He is for me. This, in fact, has been the verse I'm dwelling on: Psalm 56:9 "This I know, that God is for me."

This separation for our family is not what we desire, and yet I am loathe to complain when I know so many families are in much more difficult situations. I have friends whose husbands are stationed for 6 months or a year away. Who am I to complain that my darling husband has a great job (which happens to be in another city!) and is willingly commuting more than two hours each way on the weekends to spend time with us?! I'm so proud of his hard work, of his commitment to get our family out of debt, of his desire to make a positive impact on our community and government. He is doing a good thing for us, and clearly the Lord has opened the doors for B to fill this position.

A dear, godly friend wrote to me this week. Her husband is serving in the Army and is apart from them (my friend and their four children) for a longer season than ever before. Part of what she said to me was, "What an adventure in grace! Enjoy the ride--it's just for fun, for a season, and God's got it under
control.  I was nervous about this separation until it came, but now I keep laughing to myself (and God) about how crazy this whole thing is and how He's doing it for my GOOD.  He's doing it for yours, too, Sister!"

Isn't that wonderful?! She is laughing. It reminds me of Proverbs 31:25
"Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come." 

It is kind of crazy. It feels crazy on these long days when I wake tired and see the day stretching before me: chores and schooling the kids and running the errands and purposefully sharing wellness. I exercise in front of the house with the kids watching out the windows or I jump on the trampoline. I take all of them to Sam's Club before 9 a.m. L sleeps with me and I read lots and lots of books to everyone . . . .things I wouldn't normally do, but am doing in this crazy season.


IF I am the Lord's servant, then I am also a servant to my husband and my children. If I am the Lord's, He will take care of me. He will sell the house in His timing, and it will be perfect. He will keep me in peace and clothe me in strength. These are good words for me today. May I be lost in the Lord's purposes and all about His bidding. (And I'll still ask Him to sell our house and prepare the way for us in Richmond!)

Not For Everyone- Or Is It?

A wise friend once used words that I have endeavored to use graciously, as well. She said (of home birth), "It was great for us, but it isn't for everyone."

These words are wise and full of acceptance and freedom. I'm finding more and more that people I am around tend to define themselves in one of two camps. Home birth or hospital. Homeschooling or not. Vaccinate or not. Vegetarian or not. Liberal or Conservative. Large families or small. Green or not. Homemade bread or not. Classical education or not.

I want there to be a right way to do things. I don't think that there are always options and I do think there are moral absolutes. But I must confess that one reason I want there to be a right way is that I just want to be right (or be approved because I am doing the right things).

The horror of my heart is that I try to give myself some kind of righteousness apart from Christ. I want to think I am GOOD because I am making the BEST choice. I research and read and pray and seek advice... and want to think that what I'm deciding to do is best. It is just a lie- for their isn't necessarily a BEST in many things. Even if there were, it is ludicrous for me to think that I am making all the best decisions. And any righteousness apart from Christ is not righteousness at all, and that is the biggest lie. So, I am driven to my knees, begging for forgiveness and mercy, to be clothed with Christ's righteousness and nothing of my own making. There are so many decisions to make and more information out there than I could ever even get a sip of. Mercy has become the theme of my song. I will echo King Jehoshaphat: "I do not know what to do, but my eyes are on You."

Undone

Numbers 17:12
And the people of Israel said to Moses, "Behold, we perish, we are undone, we are all undone."

This is what is playing through my mind tonight. Not terribly cheerful, I know. But sometimes a word seems so apropos and then the verse that it is in keeps repeating in my inner voice. I'm undone. I'm undone.

Being undone is just the culmination of my day, a series of unfortunate events (ha!) that are cumulatively exhausting, or really, really funny. Laughing is better than crying, I think, and as I think through these things I am (almost) chuckling.

It's the kitchen sink that I spent ten minutes cleaning this morning, scouring back to shiny steel while a baby cried, a toddler emptied a cupboard, and two boys took turns spinning each other on the kitchen floor. The sink now has dinner splashed all over it, water stains and bits of food from the faucet to the drain. *sigh*

It's the half bottle of Johnson and Johnson baby soap that Livia emptied into the bath while I diapered Tate. Before the bath I thought, "Wow. This bottle is almost half empty. We're sure going through the soap lately." Seriously. WE are going through it so fast that now it is gone. *sigh*

It's the toilet paper unrolled across the bathroom floor because I was just a wee bit too late to help Livia. *sigh*

It's the scratches in the newly refinished (and oh so beautifully shiny and perfect!) hardwood floor, thanks to the sit and spin. . . and again I was just ... THIS much too late. . . *sigh*

Well, at least they match the scratches in the kitchen table from Rhyle's fork. He was trying to get "this bit of red" off the table. . . *sigh*

And the toilet, which I cleaned today (it only happens twice a week, so I take great joy in the shiny white porcelain that makes the water look clear enough to drink). . . well, the minute it was done. . . it was undone.

This is my life. I'm not surprised. I'm not even very upset. Just a little, well, tired, I guess. Feeling undone by all that has come undone today. And this is just today! And truthfully, I try so hard to hold it all together, to keep everything neat, not to waste things, to be a good steward of all I have been entrusted. And that can be exhausting! (And I can't do it anyway.) God clearly continues to work on my sinful pride and self-sufficiency. And I think it's a good thing to be undone- so that He can remake me tomorrow, a bit more like Christ. That's what I'm praying for. Elisabeth Elliot said it even better: "Teach me to treat all that comes to me with peace of soul and with firm conviction that Your will governs all."

My Sin... Again

Me: I can't believe that Tate is already a month and a half old!

Braden: He's not. He's just a month old this week.

Me: Oh... Yeah. What I meant was that he was four weeks(=one month) plus another half week.

Braden: There you go, exaggerating again! (teasing me)

Me: But this time it was an honest mistake! I simply can't think straight!

Braden: You mean you exaggerate on purpose all the other times?