Before Kids

I recently read the book What Alice Forgot by Liane Moriarty.
(Actually, I listened to it. It is set in Australia, so the accents probably made the book better than it actually was.)
In the book, a 39 year old mother of three (in the middle of divorce) hits her head and wakes up thinking she is 29 again. She has no recollection of the last 10 years.
29 was when she was newly married, madly in love, and pregant with her first child.

This book KICKED. MY. BUTT.
In it, "29 year old" Alice was shocked by the way her husband spoke to 39 year old Alice.
She was confused by the seriousness of her current life. Everything always seemed so urgent and important. Didn't they have fun anymore?
Alice read some emails she had written to her husband leading up to the divorce and she COULD NOT BELIEVE that she could have ever written such things to the love of her life. So bitter. So harsh.

It got me thinking about Clay and I - before kids.
I would watch Nascar races (I joined a Nascar Fantasy League and CARED ABOUT MY TEAM.)
We would spend hours playing video games with each other. (It can be therapeutic to blow up your spouse.)
We almost got kicked out of birthing classes. (We were so busy flirting and giggling with each other than the coach got a bit irritated.)
There was a lot of grace to be had in our home. That "was" is almost painful to read.

Since that stage of life, things have gotten much more serious.
His career, our children, homeschooling, ministries, responsibilities, blah, blah, blah.
It has all added up to stress.
Our fuses have shortened. We don't have TIME for video games.
We too often forget to play. We forget to be best friends...like we used to be.
It's messed up.
Clay may have less hair than when we were younger and starry-eyed, but he is still the love of my life. The goal is to stop and remember that. Daily.
We need to look into each other's eyes and SEE the young, playful souls that remain...and coax them back out. We need to CHOOSE not to be old, grumpy, married people.
I need to choose to be the flirty wife.

No more "remembering back when"...
We need to ENJOY (and properly prioritize) the now.
Lord, remind me what it was like when we were twenty-five.
Bring back the love and grace in a POWERFUL way. Give us YOUR love and grace.
I want to be starry-eyed (toward Clay) forever.

Unintentional Hiatus

Once in a while, I go a month where I just can't manage to finish a blog.
That month was July. No big deal.
Then came August.
August was NOT funny, witty, or encouraging.
I'm not even sure that I LEARNED anything the entire month.
sidenote: I WAS on a destructive path that would bring wonderful learning opportunities soon.
sidenote to my sidenote: I did actually write a blog about the new Online Public School K12 Curriculum that we started, but I need to make it more funny and less snarky before I post it. You may be waiting a while for that to actually happen..or I may just post the snarky one. We'll see.

Anywho, I walked around most of the month feeling heavy.
(For once I'm not talking about the scale!)
It was as if someone was sitting on my soul.
I am good at pointing everyone else to God when things get tough - but I didn't really FEEL like turning to Him. Sure, I would go through the motions on occasion. Bible study, accountability partners, and church attendance helped the fog to dissipate for a moment or two; but on a day-to-day basis, I mainly "did my own thang".

In one attempt to feel less heavy, I started inhaling eating comfort foods.
(Yes, I am noting the irony, and thinking that maybe the scale DID help with a little heaviness.)
Oddly, *sarcasm font needed* the eating didn't help.
(I'm pretty sure any stirring that happened deep inside me after munching jalapeno poppers, Kit Kats, or ice cream had more to do with indigestion than God.)
Comfort eating did more harm than good, but I kept at it (just to make sure).

I also started reading - A LOT.
I tried to escape my apathy and daily struggles with entertainment.
I picked up a book series that was a Kit Kat for my soul. Temporary satisfaction, nothing healthy or worthwhile. The characters were funny. It was an easy read; but the language, lifestyle, and libido of those quirky characters were NOT filling my life with hope or proper perspective.
Again, it did me more harm than good.
Again, I kept at it for a while...

Throughout August, we had many situations where I could have used God's guidance; but I just wasn't able to still my mind and hear Him. I tried a few times, but issues kept getting in the way.
I wanted to RUN from them.

As I ran, I quit fortifying areas in my life that had previously been strong. I gave over to selfishness and distraction in the smallest areas of my life. I wasn't connecting with God, AND I wasn't connecting with my kids or my husband. I neglected the things that are meaningful in my life and unconsciously replaced them with ESCAPE. The computer... or an audio book... or a doughnut...became my solution (which solved nothing).
EVERYTHING started to feel out of control.
Our marriage. My parenting. Our house. The boys' school. It was a spiral of crazy.

I kept telling myself I had NOTHING to complain about.
"My life is GREAT. I am blessed in so many ways!"
And then I would cry.
I was overwhelmed, and I had to admit that I was oppressed.
It wasn't LIFE that was getting in the way, it was the way I was VIEWING life.
I was numb. I was negative. I was deceived.

It had to change.
I had to make a choice...and I was finally miserable enough to make the RIGHT one.
That's how it tends to work with me.
For instance, I only start exercising or dieting when my pants don't fit, my energy leaves, and the idea of living that way seems even scarier than the effort of self-discipline. The HOPE of smaller pants and renewed energy makes it WORTH the work.
That's the point I reached within my spirit.
I missed God.
I missed peace.
I was a wreck, and I knew their was HOPE IN CHRIST - so I pursued Him.

I started confessing and emptying out all the selfishness and fear.
I changed my focus and started PRAISING God for the blessings He heaps upon me.
I started WORSHIPING God for WHO HE IS.
I kept reading God's word and filling my mind with TRUTH.
Even in entertainment, I started choosing items to reminded me that life is bigger than my difficult moments.

In the process of pursuing God (even when I didn't "feel" like it) the heavy weight lifted.
More accurately, the strength needed to carry the heavy weight was provided.
It may have taken an extra month of (non-blogging) recovery to get here, but I feel light again.
I am laughing again.
Marriage, family, and school (kinda, maybe) are better again.
So glad to be with you again,
Becky

Matthew 11:28-30
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

Psalm 66:10-12 
For you, God, tested us;
    you refined us like silver.
11 You brought us into prison
    and laid burdens on our backs.
12 You let people ride over our heads;
    we went through fire and water,
    but you brought us to a place of abundance.

How I Decided I Was "Fat" - part 2

So, the last time I blogged about battling weight and my self-image, I told you about my childhood and my detrimental first trip to the evil gynecologist before I got married at age 25.

Enter: The Child-bearing Years
I gained 42 pounds with baby #1 and promptly lost it all.
I even remember bragging about it a little. (Feel free to hate that Becky and know that it all came back to humble her me when she I quit nursing.)
The battle of the bulge became real, so I joined my very first diet program. Within a few months, I got pregnant with baby #2 (because that's how it works) and I was "released" from the nuisance of dieting.
*sidenote: I did eat a lot more fruits and veggies with my second to avoid excessive weight gain...and he is the child that willingly eats salads...and broccoli...and cauliflower. Coincidence? I don't think so.

When this new addition had his first birthday, Clay videotaped the party.
We sat down that night to watch the recap and my mouth fell open, "Do I actually look like THAT?"
Crushing blow. Tears. Motivation.
I jumped right back on the weight-loss wagon.

I actually LED a "diet" program for a while.
It changed my life.
Not only did I get thin, but it was a Christian-based program where I "had" to read my Bible everyday. (Since I was the leader and had to set a good example, I actually followed through.)
I'd like to say that it changed my whole mentality toward weight...but it didn't.
It did, however, show me the path of ACTUALLY getting to know God and His Word (which, I am convinced, is the only way I will ever achieve a healthy mindset about my temporary, physical body).

Then, a few years ago, I got skinny.
(Think: College years, I just lost my freshman twenty, skinny.)
My grandma even mentioned that I should stop by her church and flaunt my new size to church-lady Ms. D who once told her she was "surprised that Becky let herself go."
Even though I was thin when I heard about Mrs. D's remark, the comment stuck.
I realized that others expected me to look like I did in high school...even after having babies....EVEN IN MY THIRTIES.
Oh, you'd better believe I wanted to flaunt my new body to her! Of course the next time I actually saw her, I had gained my weight back (because that's how it works) and I ducked behind the corner when I saw her coming.

Funny thing, I wasn't even happy when I was really skinny and "flauntable". I would look in the mirror at my thin frame and be transported back to junior high with all the flat-chested jokes that were thrown in my direction.
As a 38 year old, I yearned for an extra 10 pounds so I could wear a grown-up size bra again.
It was the wake-up call God used to start dealing with my vanity.
No longer did I have ANY idea what weight was my "ideal"...and I finally started to realize that it didn't matter.

My husband loves me most when I am confident and flirty. He has never cared where I landed on the roulette wheel that my scale had become. *bless him for not comparing me to other women even though I sometimes WANTED him to compare me to other women and tell me I was prettier...because I'm vain and shallow like that. Thankfully, he is not.*
The qualities Clay desires in his wife can't be physically weighed.
And gee, that is how God is too.
Hmmm.
God started overhauling my attitude and reminding me that my worth is SO MUCH MORE than a number on the scale.

Then a year ago, I ended up in the office of a back surgeon because I couldn't get off the couch on my own and my legs gave out on me multiple times throughout each day. I had been struggling with back issues for a long time, but they finally started crippling me.
What a learning opportunity.
Looong story short, I have avoided back surgery through physical therapy and regular exercise. (And if I would do the prescribed back exercises I should be doing rather than the less boring exercises I choose to do, I might even get to the point where I could FLY...or at least jog....but that is a whole other blog.)

Now, I am forty...and no one expects me to look like a supermodel. Not even me.
My exercise and healthy diet are finally not about "needing" the approval of others by being thin.
God ALLOWED my back issues (He did, my vertebra problems are congenital) and He had a plan for them - so I have leaned into Him and am trusting Him.

I may not avoid back surgery indefinitely; but I thank God for my issues.
You see, I had prayed, "Lord, help me exercise and eat right because it is THE RIGHT THING TO DO and not just because I am vain."
God answered those prayers without snapping His fingers and changing my wants.
He matured me instead.
He uses all things for His glory and our good.

Thanks to my bad back, my eyes were opened to the love that my husband and children are capable of having - as they helped me out of chairs and beds and stabilized me throughout each day.
I am thankful for every pain-free moment.
I would have taken those for granted had I not experienced the past few years.
I sing praises when I bounce down the stairs to walk with my neighbors.

Thank you, Lord, for providing perspective among worldly expectations.
Thank you for being bigger than any struggle I might face.
Thank you for one more proof in my life (and the lives of my family) that you are here, and that you are able.
Jehovah Shammah.

How I Decided I Was "Fat"

As I mentioned, I am on a diet. Again.
At least this time, Clay is joining me (which has its good points and its bad points, but we won't get into that - again.)
I am bound and determined that this will be the LAST time I ever diet. Ever.
After this, I will thank God for an abundance of fruits and vegetables, exercise regularly, maintain self control, and eat treats only on special occasions.
(Quit laughing and rolling your eyes. Oh wait! That's me.)

I have fought with my weight and my body-image for many years.
It all began when I was in 6th grade...
Actually, a LOT of my body image issues started in 6th grade - when all the other girls got boobs and I did not - but we'll save that for another blog.

Anywho...
In 6th grade, prepubescent me started chubbing up a bit (compared to the stick-thin little girl I had always been). We went to visit my grandfather, and I heard him say (with a somewhat negative tone), "Becky is packing on the weight."
Many questions and conversations followed over the next few days; and all of them started with me saying, "Mom, am I FAT?"
I had much need for my mother's reassurance. Thankfully, she provided it.
"Don't worry honey, if you were fat, I would tell you; and we would work together to make sure you were making healthy choices. You look good."
She's such a good mom.

Then, in 8th grade, we went to Delaware to visit my Aunt Belle.
She was 4 ft. something and had arms the size of toothpicks. (I still didn't have boobs, but I was temporarily past thinking I was fat.) When that dear ol' teeny-tiny aunt gave me a hug, the words that exploded out of her mouth were, "Wow, you have thick arms!"
As my face fell, my mom had to keep herself from hurling Aunt Belle across the room.
Mom saw it coming.
I have had issues about the size of my upper arms ever since.
I don't wear sleeveless shirts.
I say "no" to ADORABLE sleeveless dresses (unless I have a sweater to wear too.)
You can imagine how this has crippled me in the fashion world.
(Are you rolling your eyes again? Oh, wait, that's still me.)
It's amazing how I let off-the-cuff comments of other people impact my fragile self-image.
Can you say VANITY stinks?

When I hit college, my weight issues quit being a figment of other people's my imagination. I went to school and promptly gained the freshmen twenty. (No, it's not fifteen...I DEFINITELY gained twenty.)

I came home from my freshman year of college to this conversation:
Me:  Mom, are you wearing my jeans?
Mom: Why yes! They are so cute. Is that OK? You left them here while you were at college, so I figured you didn't really care for them.

Poor Mom, she had no intentions of ruining my life upsetting me. She was wearing THE JEANS THAT I STUCK IN MY BOTTOM DRAWER BECAUSE I LOVED THEM TOO MUCH TO GET RID OF THEM, BUT THEY WERE WAY TOO SMALL BECAUSE I HAD GAINED 20 POUNDS.

I dieted for the first time that summer and started the VERY LONG, NEVER ENDING battle I've had with food.
In three months, I literally walked my butt off.
I walked three miles a day while jamming to "Love of a Lifetime" on a mixed tape from my boyfriend (who, ironically, didn't last 6 more months). I also waited tables at Parasson's Italian Restaurant. (Yes, I lost weight while smelling Italian food for 30-40 hours a week. I was motivated and ate tuna fish most of that summer.)
My mom was NOT going to be thinner than me. Even though she is 3 inches shorter and quite thin, it was NOT acceptable to 19 year old me. My mom was OLD, after all, like FORTY. Ha!

Six years later...
I was getting married and had to go to a doctor to get birth control pills. I had never been to a gynecologist before, so this was hell on earth a bit of a traumatic trip for me.
I walked into the office at 4:00 in the afternoon (wearing jeans, a sweater, chunky brown shoes and maybe even a coat), and I jumped right on the scale with no qualms (and with ALL those clothes on). I was there for birth control pills, not a weight consultation; plus, I knew I was healthy and thin. (I caught me a very picky, very handsome man, after all).
I still know exactly how much I weighed that afternoon. It is burned on my brain. I have since looked at weight charts and found that I was indeed in the healthy range for my height. In fact, I was just about "ideal", but the horrible man doctor that I saw that day looked me right in the eye (after making me VERY uncomfortable looking at other parts of me) and told me that I needed to lose 5 pounds.
FIVE POUNDS!!
Can you see the shock on 25-year-old Becky's face?
If I could do it over, I would show up first-thing the next morning with an empty stomach and wearing a sports bra and spandex. I would jump on that office scale and yell, "MISSION ACCOMPLISHED, YOU JACKWAGON!" - then give him a dissertation on the damage he is doing to poor unsuspecting women.
But my young, going-to-get-married-and-have-a-man-see-me-naked brain could only hear, "LOSE FIVE POUNDS". So, I started walking again. I didn't manage to lose the weight, but that little trip to the doctor helped solidify the concept that anything above the "ideal" meant that I was fat.

Well, this is getting a bit long and I'm still only in my twenties on this journey. That means I have almost twenty more years of warped thinking and crash diets to share with you. Since I will no longer write a blog series, we'll see if I actually get around to sharing them.
I still struggle with a lot of warped thinking, but I am slowly looking to God to give Him glory in my health rather than comparing myself with the world. I am also learning to focus on my purpose in this world - and that it has NOTHING to do with my vanity or what other people think of my current size.

*Er, at least I THINK I've made some progress (says the gal who is currently boycotting sugar and putting on shoes to go walking...)

Update: I DID write a second part! How I Decided I Was Fat: Part 2

Accidental Pharisee

My Sunday school class has been discussing the book Accidental Pharisee by Lawrence Osborne. 
A few concepts from the book have lodged themselves in my brain - which OBVIOUSLY means I need to blog about them (until a different shiny object deep thought distracts me.)  

Last week, I kept thinking about Osborne's statement that, "God has always drawn straight lines with crooked sticks" (page 130, Chapter 14). 
The Bible is full of God-centered men who climbed through some VERY big screw ups in the Bible - and their mistakes were written down for all eternity. 
God used those sinful moments of not-so-perfect men to teach, to bring change, and to make them into testimonies of His faithfulness.
I can get a bit crooked at times, but I like the reminder that God will still use me. 

This week, we discussed "Unity vs. Uniformity"
He wrote about how we can be unified in Christ without all being the same, and even without AGREEING on many different topics. All Christians are of ONE church...but we don't always act that way. We too often think everyone should be the same. We try to force Uniformity - and end up dividing ourselves. We tend to spend time with the people that think like us, worship like us, and baptize like us.
Until they don't anymore...then we decide they are heretics.
Listen to this joke. It makes the same point that the book makes...but it's funnier.

To paraphrase Osborne's point that I keep chewing on:
We are brothers and sisters in Christ. It doesn't mean that we are going to always agree and always get along...it just means that we are family, and must bear with each other in love. 
-------------
Family DOESN'T always get along, but they (normally) keep showing up to the Christmas get-togethers.
We are stuck with each other, so we must lean into grace...and love each other anyway.

I want to be like that.
I don't care if you are Pentecostal, Brethren, Traditional, Modern, or anti-"church"-while-still-being-a- disciple-of-Christ.
If you call yourself a Christian, then you're family.
(Actually, if you aren't Christian, I'm going to treat you like family as well.)
I don't want to focus on how each of us might be a little "crooked".
Instead, I want to work together to seek God and let HIM make our paths straight.

Ephesians 4:2-6
Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.  Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to one hope when you were called; one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. 

Oh, SNAP

Genesis 4 - The Story of Cain and Abel (A Sunday School Discussion)

Our friend, Nathan, brought up two famous Biblical brothers, Cain and Abel. 

Abel sacrificed a perfect, fat calf on the alter to God; and Cain offered some crops from the fields he had been working. They both were seeking and worshiping God.
Abel's sacrifice pleased God.
Cain's? Not so much.

I've heard all kinds of speculation about why God refused Cain's sacrifice. I was ready for that discussion, but Nathan threw me a curve ball. He didn't want to discuss God's 'why?'
Instead, He focused on Cain's reaction.

God was ready to have a loving, fatherly, teaching moment with Cain. 

Genesis 4:6-7 says:

Then the Lord said to Cain, “Why are you angry? Why is your face downcast? If you do what is right, will you not be accepted? But if you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at your door; it desires to have you, but you must rule over it.”

God SPOKE to Cain. They had THAT kind of a relationship.
Cain could have humbled himself and quickly made things right, but he chose to get ticked.
(How incredibly human of him.)

Cain thought God had some kind of nerve.
I mean, Cain was SEEKING God. 

He was giving God GOOD THINGS.

He was not living like the pagans. 

He was presenting what He thought God should want (the fruits of his labor)...

And God REJECTED what he offered? 

God wanted something different than what Cain had in mind...and Cain decided He was WRONG.

So...we were having this great conversation when good ol' Nathan asks, "How many of us are living like Cain (on our own terms) and thinking God should accept it as 'good enough'?"

*Oh, SNAP!*
Ouch. Something inside me definitely broke. 

What if I have been living my OWN version of right, but NOT God's version?

• Could it be? My way looks GREAT on paper. Church people (and even unchurched people) would probably agree that I'm on the 'right' path. I have a good life. I laugh a lot. I get excited about serving others. I do good things. BUT WHAT IF IT ISN'T WHAT GOD WANTS FROM ME? 
• What if God's way looks different than the expectations that this world, my church, and my imagination have put firmly in place? 
• What if all the ministry and church-going I've been doing isn't where God wants me? Have I asked Him, or just assumed it was right...because I was seeking God...and because I thought it was 'good'?

My will, my expectations, my church background - none of them matter when it comes to following God.
Only HIS will matters, but I do a lot of things without checking with God first. 

I'm capable. 

I'm smart. 

My actions are (often) logical and even based on Biblical principles, but that doesn't mean they are right.  How much am I missing while offering what I THINK God wants...or what I think God SHOULD want?

It was eye-opening.
It's really a change for me to consult God's word and listen for His direction before every decision, before every word, before every moment.
I'm not very good at it.
In some areas, I've found out that what I've been offering fits more with my culture than with God's Word; and when He disagrees with what I've been offering, I need to humbly correct the situation.
If I decide I don't like what He has to say and keep on the same, comfortable path; then my brothers ought to start watching their back, because I'm really no different than Cain. 

Broken, Second Stop: Rest?

Photo Credit

Stop #2 on Revelation Road: How Becky Is Being Broken
(Find Stop #1 here)

Mark 6:31 

Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.”

Coming, going, no time even to eat. This verse sounds so familiar - except I find time for eating. (Actually, I find A LOT of time for eating...but that is not what this post is about. *ahem*)

Quiet...and rest.
I could have SWORN I carved out some quiet amid the busyness in my life...so why am I not rested?
Well, it could be because I often multitask quiet moments.
Quiet time drinking coffee with girlfriends.
Connection with my hot husband next to Christmas lights and quiet music. 
Curling up with one of my almost-too-big-to-snuggle-boys when they are avoiding bedtime in the quiet evening.
I am very protective of those quiet moments too.
(Read that, "Don't interrupt my special time unless you're on fire!")
BUT having quiet while connecting with friends has not provided the rest I seek.
(I want the kind of rest that penetrates to the depth of my soul, that re-energizes me - even when I have to face the crazy real life again.)

"Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place"

The verse isn't talking about just any ol' quiet moment. It specifically mentions quiet time alone with Jesus.
Well, I DO spend time alone with Jesus.
I am not, however, very protective of THOSE moments.
Children wake up, someone calls, I stop reading my Bible to send a verse to someone ELSE...or Facebook distracts me. (Apparently, I think of funny things that I JUST HAVE TO POST during my daily devotions.)
Maybe THAT'S why I'm not rested.
No, even on undistracted days, I have obviously been missing the mark; because I'm too often tired.

And then it hits me. *POW* (like the old Batman TV show)

Jesus was also with the disciples IN THE CROWD.
If they ONLY saw Him when they rested, but faced the crowds and daily work alone...I bet they would be tired too.
I am exhausted because I get sucked into life and leave Jesus back in my quiet time.

If Christ is my focus - even when I'm surrounded by others, ESPECIALLY when I'm frustrated by others...my burden will be lighter. My perspective will be clear. I won't be focusing on myself, and I won't get so weighed down.

^{Matthew 11:28-30}  “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

I was just reading "Power of a Praying Woman" By Stormie Omartian.
She suggested that we treat our daily frustrations as promptings to open our arms and ask God to fill us with more of Himself.
How lovely! (No really, I'm not being sarcastic.)
It's a great message for me. I really do want to see my anger, my grief, and my confusion as a reminder of how desperately I need God in the midst of the crowds. Those emotions can be a PROMPTING to call out to Him.
Lord, please remind me of this "Aha moment", so I don't blog about it and then promptly shrug it off.

Stop #3 will come soon.
I'm trying to stop writing as each post approaches "too long".
I've realized that my youngest son will NEVER make it through a whole post in one sitting if it's too wordy. On that wonderful day when he is ready to sit down and actually READ this post, I want him to read all of it without nodding off.
I have to keep my audience in mind, and since I already keep forgetting to use bullet points; my husband, Clay (who gave my youngest his short attention span), probably already ended up skimming this post and stopped to read THIS sentence because he saw his name. (I love you, honey...I'll try to use more bullet points in the future.)

There I go making it longer...I'm really going to go.
See you at Stop #3.

Broken, Part 1: I Won't Wear My New Shoes

I found out in September that I'm flat-footed.

I bought (expensive) inserts for my shoes in hopes to correct my arch and take some pressure off of my back. I don't wear them. They bug me.
I just need to get used to them...but I DON'T WANT TO.

So now, God is using those silly shoe inserts as an object lesson in my life.

Let me explain...
We have very limited time on this earth.
You'd think that fact would change how I go about my day, but it hasn't stopped me from daily sitting on my high horse and being critical of those nearest and dearest to me.
I too often let unrealistic expectations blind me to the beauty of those I love.
I too often choose to live in the world that I think "should be" instead of the world that is.
It's exhausting trying to force my husband and children (and myself) into the mold of Biblical and cultural "perfection" that I cling to in my head.

God wants me to change this negativity that I heap on the heads of others. He wants me to let them be different than I want them to be.
I know my life will become less frustrating when I die to my own expectations and love others where they are...but I'm stubborn. I haven't been willing to give up the imaginary world in my head where I always get my way.

Now, how does this have anything to do with shoes? I'm glad you asked.

Colossians 3:12

Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.

I keep picturing God giving me this new pair of spectacular and beautiful shoes (that represent all the qualities mentioned in the verse above). He wants me to take off my holey (very comfortable, even if my feet got a little wet) sneakers...so I can be clothed (or shod) in something much better.

I know just by looking at them that they are the answer to so many of my problems. They will complete EVERY outfit. They are versatile and attractive. They aren't too wide or too narrow. They are fitted PERFECTLY to my needs. They even have inserts in them to get rid of my pain!
Inserts. Oh yah, that means I won't wear them.

You see, each time I obey and slip my feet into this new way of walking, it feels weird.
As the insoles correct my step, they work other muscles that haven't been used nearly enough. I get a bit irritated and sore.
This new method of traveling isn't comfortable like my old ways...even if I look SO MUCH MORE attractive.
Let's face it. If shoes are cute enough, I'll wear them...but only until they start to hurt.
It's worth it for a while...just to get the "Wow" effect from my girlfriends.
After the girls have noticed my shoes, the reality that it might take Clay and my boys a LONG time until my shoes actually catch their eyes starts to sink in...
So, I kick them off in the mudroom as soon as I hit the door of our home.
Oh, I think about them, look at them, dream about the relief I would have if I would just wear them...and then I sluff around the house in slippers - with back pain and looking frumpy.

God wants me to TRUST Him, obey, and KEEP them on...even with my family...even when nobody notices them...because they are so healthy and good for me...and I can praise HIM if people DO notice them. *sigh*

The shoe lesson is just the tip of the iceberg.
I'm on quite a path toward changing the way I look at my everyday little world.
I've been walking it long enough that my old shoes (of self-centeredness and expectations) are starting to REALLY feel like they need replaced.

Since I can't learn lessons without sharing them, I'd like to take you all on a little trip.
We'll call it Revelation Road: How Becky Is Being Broken. 
This blog is part one of the journey. I've already written part two, so it is coming soon.
Maybe we'll stroll far enough into truth that we'll BOTH want to wear new shoes of humbleness, compassion and kindness...even if they take a little getting used to.
Feel free to invite friends.

I'm a Christian...which means nothing?

If I announce, "I am female", you are told that I am not a man.
*Clay just said, "It's true. I checked." *
Anyhoo...
You could base all kinds of assumptions on that one little word (some of them beautiful, some of them ugly), but you would know very little actual truth pertaining to my world.

If I say, "I'm a 39-year-old wife and homeschooling mother of two boys", the picture becomes a bit more clear. Actually, it could also become a bit more skewed since I do not, in fact, wear denim jumpers/grow my own food/hate public school/have insanely backward kids or drive a van that says "Find Jesus today or burn in Hell forever"- all of which could pop into someone's mind when they hear 'homeschooling mother'.

My point is that there is a very broad spectrum to most descriptions; so unless people crawl into each other's worlds, they know nothing.

One of the primary words used to describe me REALLY makes me squirm when I think of the conclusions that people might jump too. (They can make even the homeschooling mom assumptions seem mild).
The word is "Christian".
Sure, people will assume that Christ and the Bible are part of my belief system; but other than that, they know nothing unless they take the time to sit a spell...and have a conversation.
Even while being a Christian, I try not to assume what people are thinking when they use that word to describe themselves. Its connotations are just too far-reaching:

• Some Christians seem to have sentimental attachments to Christianity and wear the title with pride without living out (or even knowing) what they profess to believe.  (It's kind of like me living in Indiana and wearing my Ohio State Buckeye sweatshirt with pride. I was raised in Ohio. I grew up KNOWING that Michigan is "bad" and that the Buckeyes are "good". Even though I can't list one member on the team or even name the coach, I still call myself a fan. I'm not a fan. I'm clueless, but I have sentimental attachments to Ohio.)
• Some Christians seem to wield their faith as a weapon. These believers tend to focus on the 'right and wrong' they have been taught. Sometimes these are good-hearted people with loving intentions, but things get a bit twisted as they focus on rules rather than hearts. Sometimes, they are not so good-hearted. They have an agenda and plan to use faith to accomplish it. Society sees this group (both sides) pulling out their big, heavy Bibles to smack people over the head until they agree with them. They come across as trying to dictate and legislate lives. People don't tend to respond well to that.
  *sidenote* This type of Christian often glosses over the Biblical Jesus who gave others the freedom to disagree with Him and even deny Him. Jesus was gracious with unbelievers, focusing on their hearts more than their actions. (He did get harsh at times...but it was generally directed toward church leaders who proclaimed their own righteousness while condemning others.)
• Some Christians seem to have genuine love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and self-control. (Galatians 5:5) Their humble, Christ-centered beliefs are evident to all who spend time with them. They stand out because they serve. They invite others into their homes. They have conversations. They allow others to disagree with them...and still keep hanging out with them.

*Oh Lord, PLEASE let me be a Christian that fits into that last category (even though words like "humble" are a real struggle.) I have spent time in the other two camps during points of my journey. I'm sure I've done my fair share of damage as I perpetuated the uglier stereotypes that cling to Christianity like a burr on a dog. Help me to be filled with your Holy Spirit so others see that fruit in my life.*

Stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason...and this is just the surface that I've scratched.
It appears to me that loving, Spirit-filled neighbors and servant-hearted, peace-filled coworkers are not the Christian "norm." If you disagree, you may want to watch more TV or check out my Facebook page (especially during the most recent political race - ouch). It seems that not enough LOVE has been spread by Christians to counteract the twisted faith that is so often represented in the media.
How awesome would it be if we would change that?

One of the first steps to change could be to stop wasting time with our own assumptions.
It is probably much more beneficial to focus our energy seeking out truth.
If we assume, let us assume that we have more to learn from each other, further to travel on our own journeys, and that we don't know NEARLY as much as we think we do.
That might be a good start.

Good Day, Bad Day

On a good day, I REALLY appreciate it when my husband takes the time to sweep up all the crumbs under the kitchen table.
On a bad day, I REALLY get annoyed that he leaves all the crumbs in a pile next to the table so I can sweep them up to sweep up "later".

On a good day, school is a wonderful opportunity to spend time with my boys and learn about God's great world while doing hands-on activities and ENJOYING ourselves.
On a bad day, school is a burdensome chore that I don't feel equipped to handle (involving ungrateful, complaining little people - whom I could easily send away to public school...)

On a good day, it's funny when my 4th grader has a quirky comment for every situation.
On a bad day, "that boy ain't right...and it's all Clay's fault".

Sadly, I can go from a good day to a bad day in a fraction of a second.
I forget that any day that I have life... is a good day.
I forget that every difficult moment can be used for my benefit and God's glory.
I forget to count my blessings.

Thankfully, I can also go from a bad day to a good day quite quickly.
I remember all the past trials which I have gotten through...that have strengthened me.
I remember that God not only changed my life, but He can change my moment.
I remember to count my blessings.

• Healthy, intelligent children who make me laugh
• Coffee with cream in my cup...and more where that came from
• A hard-working husband who is faithful and funny
• A rainy, cool day which makes hot soup more enjoyable
• Friends who pray with me and encourage me and live life with me
• A powerful, sovereign God whose promises never fail

That's a darn good start to a very long list...

What are your blessings? 

Is today going to be a good day or a bad day? 

We each have a choice to make.

As for me and my house, I think we'll play some uplifting music, then go out on the back porch and eat some soup while we watch the animals play (and listen to a history cd). 

I'll attempt to do my part in making the next few moments good. It's the choice I want to make.

The Storms

"When it rains, it pours...*sigh*" 
Those words slipped from my lips.  Then, I believe the Holy Spirit gave me a moment of clarity; and I was reminded of a video* I saw years ago:
_________________________
There was a man covered in grime. 
He was filthy and holding a holey umbrella.

Enter: thunder and lightening...
Irritation, and even fear, appeared on his face when the storms came. 
He fought to stay dry under his umbrella. 
He did everything in his power to avoid the downpour; but as the rain continued (and his coping mechanisms failed) the water finally reached him.

The cold shock and stinging of the rain. 
The frightening thunder and lightening. 
They were disturbing his perceived comfort, but as the storm pelted his sludge-covered body...the purifying water cleansed him.
_________________________

Too often we fight against the storms of life, but God is able to use them for our good - and His glory. We must rest in His promises. He is the calm in the midst if the storm.

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
    I have summoned you by name; you are mine. 
² When you pass through the waters, 
    I will be with you; 
and when you pass through the rivers,
    they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire, 
    you will not be burned;
    the flames will not set you ablaze. 
³ For I am the Lord your God, 
    the Holy One of Israel, your Savior;"
Isaiah 43:1-3



*I've tried multiple times to find this video online so I could cite the makers of the video and give them props.

Should I eat Chick Fil A or crow?

People I respect stood in long lines to buy chicken and support Chick Fil A.
People I respect are currently boycotting Chick Fil A and calling them bigots.

I haven't shared much of an opinion in all of it.
I've probably even been a little self-righteous while "rising above" it all.
But then it happened...and I got taken down a few pegs.

Clay hurt my feelings on Saturday afternoon.
I felt that he stepped on my "rights".
I knew he was WRONG (I'm telling you, even God would think so)...and I told him so.
I made it clear  - through my body language, my tone, and my words - that He treated me unfairly.
After my little fit, I stormed away and went to take a shower.

God talks to me a lot in the shower. (Maybe it has something to do with being totally exposed, but I tend to listen better in there.)

As I angrily lathered my hair and grumbled about Clay, all the thoughts I've had toward BOTH sides of the Chick Fil A/Gay rights debate came FLOODING back to me.

All week I kept thinking, "People are much more likely to process a differing opinion (or actually change their mind) when spoken to with love, face-to-face (and perhaps while drinking a mocha). I definitely wouldn't change MY mind if I was busy defending myself because I felt attacked and people were calling me names."

Although I didn't call Clay names (out loud), I surely didn't give him a mocha and speak kind words out of a loving and humble spirit.

All week, I kept thinking, "The 'issues' are NEVER more important than the person with whom we are speaking. The person God made in His image. The person that needs to see God as much as we need to see God."

Except Clay (apparently). I decided that my issue was more important than respecting him in that moment. My feelings were more important than humbly showing Christ's love to Clay (even if he WAS wrong). *sigh*

I hate feeling this need to prove I'm right and get my way.
I don't even like my compulsion to prove that God is 'right'.
(Like He needs me to prove anything for Him.)

The Holy Spirit reveals truth to those who seek Him. (John 16:13-15)
I want to help others (even Clay) be inspired to seek Christ and hear God's voice for themselves. When God is the focus, He can change ALL parties involved...even me.

I need to let others have their own opinions - even if I think they are wrong or not biblical. 
God gave everyone the freedom to seek Him or deny Him.
I need to let them apply that freedom.

If I stop focusing on me and focus my eyes on God when I don't agree with someone, I might just reflect His joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness and self-control in such a powerful way that they would be drawn toward Him.
That sounds a lot better than being right.

The problem is, I'm spoiled.
In my marriage, I think I am supposed to be catered to heard because my husband loves me dearly. I assume I should have the freedom to whine (and maybe stomp my foot) if I don't get my way.
That's how it works, we tend to get a bit entitled when we have good things.
Since we have freedom, we expect freedom; but who says we "deserve" this freedom?
Who says that freedom REALLY matters?
Freedom to speak, freedom to marry whoever we want, freedom to believe whatever we want to believe...
This life isn't about our freedoms through the law; our freedom in Christ is much more important.

It is freeing to know that God can use ALL things for our good. (Romans 8:28)
It is freeing to know that God has plans to prosper us and not to harm us, plans to give us a hope and a future. (Jeremiah 29:11)

These promises provide peace...and freedom.
Sure, we can use our votes to express our beliefs, but we can't expect to legislate hearts.
If we lose the vote (regardless of the 'side' we are on), God can use it for His glory and others can be drawn to TRUE freedom.We need to focus on that and let God move through us instead of reacting to differing views out of fear.

So, I apologized to Clay.
I ate my crow and admitted that my response to him was disrespectful and that he matters more to me than being "right". We didn't really settle the issue, but there is respect and love in our home while we trust God to guide our next steps.
I got down off my self-righteous box and realized that I am no different than all my friends who have been so vocal in all their emotions and 'rightness'. I just hope this lesson sticks. I don't like the taste of crow.
And I hope that my lesson can help others evaluate their own actions.
Trust me, I'll share my crow with you if you need to eat some too.

Intimacy

My eyes get big and I shoot a warning look at my dear husband. 

In my head I think, "Don't say it."

He slyly grins, raises his eyebrows and nods mischievously.

I purse my lips (trying not to smile at him, but it shows in my eyes) and he knows I'm thinking, "It's inappropriate, you are going to cross a line for some of these people."

He evaluates the situation...and sometimes it is enough that I know what he is thinking, so he gives in to my wishes and holds his tongue...sometimes.

________________________________
Without a word, we have conversations.
Funny how we can do this with our spouses, our children, our closest friends.

It's like telepathy. 

It is possible, because we know each other well. 

We have put in the time.

We have listened. 

We have been authentic.

This is intimacy.

Intimacy is being able to finish each other's sentences...because we've spent so much time interacting that we KNOW how the other will respond.

Intimacy is connection...and it is something I'm seeking more of in my spiritual life. 

I want to think the thoughts of God. 
I cannot finish His sentences - because I haven't spent nearly enough time with Him to know what He is going to say.

I've always dismissed this little matter of fact.
I mean, how am I supposed to be so close to GOD that I think his thoughts when He's not sitting next to me telling me jokes and laughing in a high-pitched cackle...or low, slow groan. 
SEE, I don't even know His laugh! 
If I don't know Jesus's favorite food, how He takes his coffee, or whether He thinks farts are funny or crude...how can I have "intimacy" with Him? So, I justify my lack of closeness.

For years, I vaguely loved God. 
What's NOT to love? He encompasses all things GOOD. 
Then, I got challenged that my devotion to God should be more than good "feelings" or heartfelt theories...so I started to look toward Christ.
How did He live? What does loving God look like when it's lived out?


That was a good step. 
I started to "get to know" my God by reading about Jesus and trying to live like him, but I was still constantly trying to "figure things out". 
I was gaining knowledge, but how was I supposed to apply it? 
There is just TOO MUCH good to do! How could I decide?
I wanted Jesus to show up as a man in my living room and TELL me, but He REFUSED.
There seemed to be so much guesswork in this faith thing. 
There is always MORE to do, more to learn, more, more, more...
It would be easy to just sink into apathy with my brain twisting up in knots, but years of foggy understanding had left me wanting. I wasn't ready to throw in the towel.

Matthew 7:7 says:
"Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you." 

The more I seek, the less cloudy things keep getting.
My Sunday school class has been reading Francis Chan's book Forgotten God.
I also just finished listening to Corrie ten Boom's book Tramp for the Lord.
Both are very HOLY SPIRIT focused. I don't think it's a coincidence that the timing of both of these books coincided in my life. 
God must have decided I needed some help on my journey for "more".


As I read, both authors seemed to be saying "If you are a Christian, you SHOULD be hearing God...and if you aren't, you are doing it wrong."
I turned to scripture to see if I found the same message or if these Christians were off-base.

In seeking, I found a missing piece in my spiritual puzzle (more like a whole side of precious border pieces). Oh, I knew the pieces were supposed to be there. I knew that knowing the Holy Spirit was part of knowing God. I had searched and researched and looked high and low for those puzzle pieces on a number of occasions...but they must have fallen behind the heavy hutch in the dining room - because it took a supernatural moving team to expose them to me.


In John 16:7, Christ said, "It is for your good that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you."
As I read the context around that verse, it's as if Christ is saying that living with the Holy Spirit is even better for us than having JESUS sitting on the couch next to us. 


The Bible says, God gives the Spirit to those who ask Him. (Luke 11:13)
The Spirit LIVES IN US. (1 Cor. 6:19)
If we ask, we can have GOD. IN. US. 
Wisdom, power, revelation, knowledge, truth, love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, self-control...all things GOD - pulsing through us. 
So, WHY are we not experiencing an intimacy where we finish His sentences and know God's thoughts?
*smack!*

Wow! That thought has changed me in the past month.
I've started acknowledging the Holy Spirit instead of squelching Him.
I've started asking Him questions and EXPECTING answers because it has been PROMISED to me in scriptures. He is a being that wants RELATIONSHIP with me.
I've started listening and ASKING God to make sure I know it's Him.
I've started memorizing truths about the Holy Spirit so when the world tells me that "hearing" from God seems a bit unrealistic, I can be reminded that those thoughts are OUTRIGHT LIES.

It's been a month of tears. I'm just not used to all these Jehovah Shemmah (God is there) moments. It's been overwhelming...and Beautiful. (with a capital B)

If you are seeking as well, I'd love for you to join me on this journey.
We can pray for each other - that God helps us move the heavy furniture that is keeping us from finding all the pieces of the puzzle.
It's a beautiful picture He has created, and I want to see it ALL.

Goose Bumps...

This morning I swapped some "Jehovah Shammah Moments" with a friend over coffee. (Actually, I had a sugar-free vanilla chai which tasted like CANDY).
But I digress...

Jehovah Shammah means "The Lord is there."
You KNOW it's a good story when you get goosebumps and tears in your eyes while listening. (Well, maybe your body doesn't respond to good things in that way...but mine just can't keep it all in, the energy has to find an outlet!)
She has such great stories! (Quick plug: you can read some of her stories here on her blog.)
After I wiped my nose and blotted my eyes, I got to thinking about the MANY times God has looked at my little family, watched us wrestle with some little thing; and made His presence known in a Big way.
As my girlfriend said this morning, "Those little nuggets of gold shouldn't be kept. They need to be shared." (or something along those lines.)
I agree - so I'm sharing. 


Goose Bump Moment #1
Eight years ago (ish), I lost my wedding rings. 
Both of them. The most expensive anythings that we owned outright.

Photo Credit

I had placed my rings on the nightstand by our bed (because I had gained a bit too much weight, but we don't need to remember that part of the story...)
I also had a child who was under the age of two (plus a three and a half year old who was GREAT at distracting keeping Mom's attention until it was "too late".)
Yah...you are way ahead of me already, aren't you?


By the time I realized my valuables were gone, they were no longer a thought in my little boy's mind. 
I asked him about them. 
He grinned big, nodded his head, and took me by the hand around the house...showing me toys and books and pieces of lint, but no rings.
I tore the house apart. I looked in couches, in vents, in trashcans. (I should add that my mom thinks that I threw HER wedding rings away when I was about the same age.) I knew this was history repeating itself. WHY had I not LEARNED from my mother's mistake?!


It had been almost a week. 
I was at the end of my rope. I had lifted frantic prayers in my search as I opened cupboards and sorted toy boxes. 
I finally resigned. I was NOT going to find them on my own.


Usually, sleep comes easy for me. (A trait my husband envies.)
But on one particular night, sleep eluded me.
I was lying there contemplating a Walmart run to find a simple stainless steel band I could wear. (I love being married and needed a ring to "tell the world.")
I started to talk to God. 
In the quiet.
In the still.
I prayed. Earnestly...and ready to hear an answer.


"Jesus, if those ring haven't gone out with the trash. If those rings are findable. Please reveal their location. If not, I'll accept that you can use this for your Glory. I did learn about the grace and love I can have toward my children...even if I want to STRANGLE them. And I learned about the grace and love Clay has for me...instead of strangling me."


As. Soon. As. I. finished. My. Prayer...
Pillows popped into my head.
Two ugly denim pillows sat next to the TV...they had zippers on them where they had been stuffed full of stuffing.
My toddler liked to unzip things. He would play with those pillows on occasion.
I jumped out of bed. My heart was racing. (Clay was completely befuddled.)
I nearly kicked the couch and stepped on 2 Hot Wheels cars as I stumbled in the dark to find those pillows.
I reached down, unzipped a pillow, put my hand in - and felt delicate metal...right on top, waiting for me.
Talk about tears and goosebumps.


God is ready to step in...when we ask.
And yet, I do not ask often enough.
And sometimes when I DO ask...I'm not ready to hear the answer, or I do not LOOK for his answer, or I do not see and ACKNOWLEDGE it.
"You do not have because you do not ask God. ³ When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures." James 4:2b-3
Lord, You are always there. 
Jehovah Shemmah.
I want to open my eyes to that reality.
I want my boys to witness your presence...even if it's through MY faith.
And I want to shout it to the world.




Linked up to Hip Homeschool Hop, Loving Our Children Tuesday, NOBH

The Qualifier

Photo Credit

When I speak about my husband, I tend to share about rainbows and lollipops and romantic gestures. According to my blog and many conversations I have with friends, you'd think I married Superman.

I once had a friend say, "You don't even know how to complain about your husband properly. You always preface your remark with 'Clay is such a good man, I don't know WHY I'm so frustrated with ______.'" 

(That's some tricky punctuation - a quote within a quote at the end of a sentence? Looked funny, but it's right - I Googled it.)

I digress...

I'm here to announce that...
Wait for it...

Clay.
Is.
Not.
Superman.

He irritates me, he "ruins" moments, and (on occasion) he has a nose hair try to escape his right nostril. The thing is, if I choose to focus on the imperfections, I KNOW my marriage will be difficult. So, even when I'm alone with my own thoughts and catch myself glaring holes into the back of a family member's head...I try to stop myself. I try to list the things I love about them. I try to focus on the greater good. I try to focus on the bigger picture. I try NOT to focus on ME.

Notice I said, "I try..."
I'm not Superman (or Supergirl, or Wonder Woman) either.

How is your thought-life? Do others see the good in your spouse because that is what you have shown them? Do you defend and protect the good in your spouse? He/she is made in the image of God. There IS good there...are you looking for it? And are you letting your spouse know that you see it - and are thankful for it?

Challenge:
Let's write down all the things that our spouses do - that we may take for granted. And let's make sure that we DON'T take them for granted...at least not today.

• He went to work to earn money.
• He shares that money with me and the kids.
• He made more coffee than he needed so I would have some to drink too.
• He snuggled my son when he woke up.
• He called the bank. (I didn't have to!)
• He kissed me goodbye.
• He...

I bet this list will be pretty long. I think I might need to show him the list too.

Irritating

Lately, I've been annoying myself.
I cringe at my behavior, but I can't STOP.

I keep thinking, "HOW do I have any friends? I'm sick of myself. Thank you, Lord, for big grace."

I'm just so stinkin' wishy-washy. 

(Well, today I think I am...tomorrow I'll probably think I'm just "flexible".)

One month, I am on a sugar-free, no-carb diet; and the next day I'm suggesting that we all go out for ice cream.

I want to lose weight so my pants will fit, but I also want to love myself and be content JUST as I am.
One moment, "I'm so excited about my new method for doing chores!"...or my new Bible reading plan...or a new habit I've started (see this blog post ). 
And the next minute, it was "just too difficult to maintain"...
Or I was "too tired to bother"...
Or "I was blogging, so chores just had to wait."

I just can't seem to make up my mind. Ever.

(Check that...I'm decisive all the time - my decisions just don't manage to stick for very long.)

*Did I just waffle about how indecisive I am? Oh bother...*

In Romans 7:14, Paul wrote, 

"I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do."

Oh Paul, you "GET" me!
It drives me CRAZY when people adamantly say they are "going to change"...and then they don't. And that is EXACTLY what I keep doing!

I know God has me on a path where my flaky patterns will eventually give Him glory as He shines His light and life into each little crevice of my world, and HE changes me. 
But what do I do in the meantime? (You know, during the beat-my-head-against-the-wall-because-I'm-just-not-learning-the-lesson stage.)

My vacillating opinions aren't even the main problem. 
In fact, they may not be the problem at all. (Yes, even MORE wavering as I keep proving my own point.)

The crux of it all is my need to SHARE about each. and. every. flip-flopping. thought.*sigh* 

If I would just control that little tongue of mine, nobody would have a clue how incredibly erratic my thoughts and opinions actually are. I could FOOL the world into think I'm not insane if I would just SHUT UP.

Source: hiphomeschoolmoms.com via Becky on Pinterest

Hmmm, the pastor has been doing a series on toxic behavior and controlling our tongues.

Our small group has also been studying James 3 which discusses the damning little organ of my body that can cause such large problems.

I think God might be shining a light on a dark spot already...and here I am - "talking about it."