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. 

10 Reasons I'll Keep Being a Girl

Such cute little PINK. GIRL. SHOES.
(good thing)

Clay started dieting 5 days after me.
He has lost 10 pounds.
I have lost 5.
If being a girl didn't have it's own perks, I'd quit right now.

Since I want to quit being a girl at least once a month, I have decided to make a "Top Ten" list of reasons that I like being THE girl in my house of boys.

1. All the boys at my house smell worse than I do (especially the big one). Sometimes it's on purpose, sometimes...not so much. Either way, I'm really glad I stink less than them.
2. I don't have to lift heavy things. Ever.  This includes suitcases, coolers loaded with ice, and shovels full of snow from the driveway. My 'men' are always willing to flex their muscles and take care of this little lady. (This may be part of the reason I haven't lost as much weight as Clay, but let's not discuss that.)
3. Boys tend to be hairy. My husband has to shave his face daily. Since his hands are more calloused than mine (and he isn't very observant) I can get away with shaving my legs a bit less often (which doesn't even require a sharp blade scraping my FACE). I also rarely get haircuts (long hair). Actually, my boys rarely get haircuts either; but that's because Clay tells them that "You gotta have long hair to play in a band!" Clay, on the other hand, gets his haircut often (even the few that keep sprouting on top of his head).
4. Girls have way cuter shoes and coats. WAY CUTER!!! Enough said.
5. Purses. Not one of my guys carries a purse. I like purses. I always have what I need right there with me, and I never get too fat for the purse to 'fit'. (Honestly, this is one reason I like shoes and coats too...you can gain 20 or 30 pounds and still feel adorable in the same cute pair of shoes, coat and purse that you had when you were "thin".).
6. In this house, being a girl means I get to blame submit to Clay for the big decisions. He carries a lot of the pressure that goes along with being a family. I get to spout opinions, encourage our gang toward the truth of God, and trust Clay to listen when something worthwhile pops out of me. He, on the other hand, gets the responsibility of leading us. Sometimes I really like that his logical, less reactionary brain has that role. (And I know if I was a man that I would probably have a less emotionally driven brain...but I LIKE my emotions.)
7. Speaking of emotions...I am the one that my boys come to for sentimentality. They snuggle me (probably because I'm soft due to the weight I can't lose - and less muscle-y due to never lifting anything). They have me kiss their boo-boos tend to their injuries, and they also know I will encourage them when they are hurting (instead of telling them to "wipe some dirt on it and get back in the game"). I get to experience a softer side of them that men don't always get to see. 
8. My 10 year old opens doors for me. Not sure where he learned this GREAT idea. He must have been watching out the window one of the 4 times a year that Clay and I go on a date. He is much more likely to let a door hit Clay in the face because it is funny than open it for him. Definitely a benefit to being a girl.
9. I don't have to climb ladders or get on rooftops because my "big, fearless men can do it". I accrued a fear of heights sometime around the age of 25. My husband has no such fear. And my youngest would have jumped from the top of the refrigerator to the floor when he was not yet walking if he could have gotten away with it. (Wait! If he wasn't walking, how did he get on top of the refrigerator? My husband put him there.) Just today, the little one was volunteering to go up in the attic above the garage and chase down mice...as long as he got to climb the ladder. 
10. I texted a girlfriend that I wanted to quit being a woman. I won't tell you her name because she might be mortified when I tell you that she texted this back: "Men have to deal with unintentional erections." I laughed out loud; and in one fell swoop, she convince me that I should indeed stay on my current team.

This post is linked to Many Little Blessings Top Ten

Slap Jack Times Two

Early in our marriage, Clay and I would play card games at night.
We learned quickly that Slap Jack was NOT a game to play if we were trying to strengthen our marriage.
You see, Clay was not as good at Slap Jack as I was.
Nope, he was not a sore loser.
In actuality, I was a sore winner...and had the bruises to prove it.

The goal in Slap Jack is to collect all the cards in the deck.
We would take turn flipping cards; and when a jack would appear, the first to slap it would win all the cards in the pile.
I would inevitably slap the jack first, but Clay's massive meat mallet hand would end up SLAMMING down on top of mine. He'd blame it on momentum, shrug, and reply, "I guess you just need to decide how badly you REALLY want that jack. Is winning WORTH it?"
I like to think of Clay as a protective, sweet man, who's competitive nature is nothing compared to the love he has for his woman. It's obviously a delusional thought, but it's where I live.
So...we no longer play Slap Jack - for the sake of our marriage and my delusional world.
_________________________

The other day, Clay and I were spending some quality time. (We have to work at it a bit more now that we aren't newly married and living in an apartment with nothing to do but draw, play guitar, and wrestle around naked after playing cards.)
We took a Sunday afternoon, let the boys play video games in the basement as long as they wanted and chose to INTERACT with each other. We talked and laughed and wrestled around a bit (fully clothed,  unfortunately, but we WERE in the middle of the sun-room and children could decide they needed hydration at any minute and emerge from the stairwell. We have no desire to scar them in that way - on purpose.)
Anywho...
It was a really good day.
At some point, I pulled out my iPhone to make a note. Clay decided to be annoying while I was trying to type and asked, "You want to play Slap Jack?"
Then, he started poking me and picking at me so I couldn't type.
I pushed the 'Siri' button. I planned to SPEAK my note so I wouldn't have to type.
He began yelling, "Slap Jack, Slap Jack," every time I tried to speak into my phone.
This is what I ended up with:
"slapjack flapjack topdeck Merbrook that ended typing slapjack or at the VA back out of me or Woodenshoe" (Woodenshoe? I no longer have any idea what I was trying to say.)

It is now Clay's goal to start a worldwide phenomena...
Every time someone starts giving their phone verbal commands, he wants SOMEONE to start yelling "slap jack" at them. It could be such a great, annoying trend. *shudder*

*sidenote* My husband can not hear the word phenomena or any other similar sounding 4 syllable word without singing it to the following Muppet song. I love that man.

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. 

Armpits

I've been up to my armpits this week in...well, armpits.
You'd think it would be a bad thing, but it's NOT.

Armpits have provided my family with HOURS of entertainment over the past few days. 
I'm not talking about this kind of armpit entertainment (which my youngest learned from his father.)

Instead, we found a new, much easier way for people EVERYWHERE to have musical armpit entertainment. (And when I say "musical"...I mean, my kids actually made MUSIC.)

Unfortunately, this discovery happened in the MIDDLE OF A HOMESCHOOL DAY. (I was reading one of my new favorite blogs My Life and Kids while the boys were doing actual work, and I just couldn't wait to teach them!) So, my children were distracted from improper fractions and ancient civilizations as they tried to focus on improper inventive methods for utilizing their new-found ability.

Music and race cars were two of the more creative ways that we smiled due to bendy straws.
I have video of them squatting and making faces and being quite gross as well, but you don't even need imagination to picture what THOSE look like. (Of course, those moments still made us laugh - a lot. I plan to sneak a straw into bed sometime this weekend and shock Clay with odd noises in the dark. It may not sound romantic, but he will be so attracted to me as we laugh...and laugh...and laugh. I just hope he doesn't "pretend" to have a straw...and answer me back.)
__________________________________________

Last night we had another kind of  "Armpit Moment".
Evan took the fastest shower ever known to man. 
I had asked him to hurry, but his timing was warp speed. 
So I wondered out loud - to his face - about his success at actually getting CLEAN.


"Mom! I'm probably cleaner than NORMAL. I made sure! Smell my hair!"
*I smelled his hair
"It's clean isn't it? Smell my armpit."
"No."
"But it's CLEAN."
If someone asks you to smell his armpit, the answer should ALWAYS be 'No.'
*I'm constantly looking for a teaching moment...and he handed that one up on a platter.
____________________________________________

And today, I have decided to quit writing my latest blog series: "Revelation Road: How Becky Is Getting Broken"
My attention span just can't handle it.
This doesn't seem very armpit-y, you say?
Wait for it...
Wait for it...
For me, a blog series is the armpit of my blogging world.
You see, I am only capable of keeping a theme 'fresh' for so long. Soon, all the hard work that it requires to keep my train of thought starts stinking up what started out to be something pleasant (like deodorant failing in an armpit).
I just have to give up, shower off, and start fresh.
(OK, maybe that's a bit of stretch to make an armpit connection; but I had something else to say, and I wanted to include it in this post.)

There were 4 main events that I planned to share in that little blog series.
They all led up to a big, wonderful crack in my bad attitude (a.k.a. Bad-itude) which happened on January 1, 2013. I knew it might not last, so I promptly instated a 2013 motto:

"Let the things that God is breaking, STAY BROKEN." 

(Notice it's not a resolution. My short attention span gets in the way of resolutions. I don't make them, because I WILL NOT KEEP THEM. But a motto, now THAT is something I can pull out of my pocket when I need it...without feeling like a big ol' liar when I don't quite keep it.)

Anywho...
The journey I took to January 1 is still pretty awesome, but I just don't feel like writing about it anymore.
This whole blog is full of posts where God has been breaking my self-centered will and helping it to line up with His; and I've had a all kinds of *NEW* lessons I've been learning in the past 6 weeks, but I haven't shared about any of them because I thought I should finish my "series".
I know I could finish the series later...and write other things now, but I still feel the expectation hanging over me.
So I'm being realistic about the small expectations in my life that I make into big deals...and the blog series qualifies. Bye-bye unneeded, imagined, unnecessary stress.
It's my blog and I can do whatever I want; and today, I want to laugh about armpits.

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.