I Will Fight For You.

Dear Charlotte, 

You did not deserve this doll today.  

You are in the throes of two years old, and you have a scream of discontent that could shatter glass when you don't get your way. With the exception of myself, you are the most strong-willed creature I've ever encountered and you exhaust me. 

And what's funny is those are the exact same things that make me so in love with you. 

While your brother just wants people to be happy, you are always ready for a good fight. I pray that you win the important, righteous ones throughout your life. 

While your brother is hungry to learn and sees the world intellectually, you prioritize being pretty and silly. That's why I also pray that I always remember to have time for dish towel capes and gift wrap roll wands - you see the world as safe, fun and sparkly. Can I bottle up your perspective and keep it forever? Is there a way to make it into a serum that I can then administer to you when you're in middle school and discover math is really hard and friendships can be brutal? 

I love the way you help me, and genuinely believe that I can't get by without you . 

And you know, I think you may be right on that. You've only been in our lives for all of 33 months and yet it feels like forever. 

You've evened the teams in our house. 

You've taught me immeasurable patience.

You get more excited about hot pink toenails than anyone else in the universe. 

You are girly. You are a cuddle machine. You can be shockingly mean. And they are all parts that make up the little you I love so much. 

And because I love you, when you fight me, you won't win. When you hate your bath, you can splash all the water out of the tub in your tirade against cleanliness and I will still scrub every angry little curl coming out of your head. When you lament you don't need a nap, and you kick your blanket off, I will tuck you in tighter so you feel extra safe. 

You aren't going to get away from me, girl. You may grow up to be feisty, strong-willed and choose the difficult path, but you will always know you are loved. 

Which is probably why you got the doll today. It was honestly my idea - even when you are a crazy person, I have an innate desire to bless you. And because you're so little, you allow me to without question. 

You remind me daily what our relationship with our Heavenly Father should look like. Sometimes we fight Him, but we should always turn around in the end. And we can accept the blessings He loves to give. And ultimately, we can rest in His love, safe and secure, tucked in extra tight. 

Now where are Anna's pants? 

In the Darkness with Dead Frogs

I set out to read the entire bible this year. I love daily readings in the Old Testament - Christians tend to be familiar with the NT, but I really enjoy the OT. I love a good scandal or two and it's stuffed full of them! 

So in my daily reading of the entire Bible, I have basically bombed. I made it all of maybe 12 days before I started to fall behind. Now I am reading the plan daily, and I will still finish in a year - but right now I'm still in January. Exodus 3. Moses is trying to get his rear away from Pharoah because he just killed an Egyptian and is going to get himself killed if he's found out. Moses is running. Moses did bad things, and now he's hiding. 

Tonight in bible study, we did Exodus 8 - Pharoah is coming to Moses in ch 8 to stop the plagues . He is considered a wise and close friend of The Lord. 

In just 5 chapters, Moses went from running and hiding to revered and respected (as much as Pharoah revered and respected anyone, which doesn't seem to be much.) 

What I love about this change from Exodus 3 to 8 is that.......life changes. Unfortunately for Moses change meant raining frogs and exceedingly more disgusting phenomena for awhile, but still....things changed. And in the end, clearly Moses turns out to be a total biblical rockstar. 

I hope that in my life, there will be change. I hate this time in the valley - 

these times where my medicine stops working, when words choke in my throat, when I have to sleep in the middle of the day....mentally , physically, spiritually I am hunkering down on the floor of the crappiest room ever, waiting for the door to be unlocked again. 

Whee! 

But change is real. It can come. I just need to somehow find a way to befriend the struggles that are so intent on sticking around. Find a way. 

The desert isn't meant to last forever. 

 

Not So Sweet

My children cannot have candy ever again. And when I say "children", I mean specifically Sam and when I say "never again," I mean truly, if there were a way to step into eternity and ensure no candy awaits him there either, I would. 

Sam turns psychotic when he has candy. Not hyper, not lively - PSYCHO. Quite possibly the only time I see premeditated, genuinely naughty behavior out of him is when he has candy. Sure, he has moments of outbursts, fights with his sister and other 5 year old incidents from time to time - but when Sam has candy, our faith's theology becomes vivid and real. I see a true example of how we are all born into sin and need a savior to overcome all the insane things we do when we are under the influence of lollipops and conversation hearts. And I am definitely in need of Jesus in case there are consequences to listing a 5 year old on eBay before Halloween hits . 

Sam is not allowed to have candy. I repeat - like mixing a martini for a recovering alcoholic or waving crack in front of a junkie....my child is not to have a sweet treat unless you plan to open up your home as a halfway house until he sufficiently detoxes from the corn syrup and red dye. 

However at the end of the day , I sure did have two beautiful little valentines! 

Sam just came up to me and explained he was naughty yesterday because his conversation heart said "wild child." So he is clearly absolved from responsibility. 

"And look, mommy! One of the ones I had this morning said LOL!"

"One of the ones you had this morning?! It's 6am!"

I glance over and see shreds of a conversation heart box on the living room couch. He has eaten the entire supply of hearts inside and I have no clue where he found them. 

"Sam? Where did you get this candy!"

"LOL! AH Ha Ha Ha Ha see mommy?! I'm LOLing! Because the heart said LOL AND THE HEART IS IN MY BODY! LOL AH Ha Ha Ha Ha!!!!!!" 

Never mind. 

Garage Sale Love

A person looked at me the other day and, regarding a struggle they want resolved said, "You are amazing. God blesses you and speaks to you. You pray for me, okay?"

After I was done laughing hysterically and picked myself up off the floor....okay not really....

....in reality the  conversation sort of awkwardly ended and I was left wanting to say 4 words.

We are all liars. 

I am blessed. It would be impossible to look at anyone's life and deny some sort of blessing, and beyond that I know my life in particular is filled to the brim with them. 

But if anyone sees any part of my life and considers me blessed, they should know a little secret: 

I am terrified of God. 

I've mentioned this before and I'm getting better with it, but at the end of the day I have a long history of believing that God is unhappy with me, that He often turns away from me and that I likely will not go to Heaven because somehow I must be doing it wrong. I am not one of those Christians that revels in the freedom of God's unconditional saving grace. I am more the type that clings to it so tightly - out of abject fear of losing it - that I choke out of it any meaning or value and instead blanket it in fear and insecurity. 

"God listens to you and talks to you..." 

True. But it seems to be the exception, not the rule. And the real kicker is....the scarcity of grace is completely my fault . 

In bible study this week my pastor talked about having a "garage sale" love for Christ. At a garage sale you are ridding yourself of things not really very valuable and expecting to be rewarded with payment. Well hello, perfect analogy of Tam's faith in God! Isn't that sad? And perhaps that's why I'm being open and honest - I'm giving away for the first time something expensive - my reputation as a ministry leader and a confession that sometimes, (okay most of the time) - I shut God up before He is able to speak with me because I have limits on what I'm willing to give on my end. 

Today I looked at a glass of water on a table, filled about an eighth of the way. Still, stale, room temperature water from that morning that would be far from satisfying if I opted to drink it just then. 

I got a picture in my head of that glass filling up and overflowing with fresh, cool water instead. I know that the reality of the glass is how I speak to God -I limit my prayers, I tell Him what I think He wants to hear, careful not to take up too much time. He gets the residue of my heart and I expect to be refreshed. And , not surprisingly, I am often sorely disappointed . 

So does God speak to me? Oh probably. But more importantly,

Why don't I speak to Him? 

Because I'm scared . 

I have a long history of people offering me their garage sale love. 

I've been treated a lot like a yard sale deal, and honestly I've turned that into presenting myself to God as such. 

I am going to stop this, and if you value yourself as much as a mismatched board game or a dusty VHS, then you should stop too. 

Today after complaining to some people via text message about how unfair it all is - this whole game of coming to God and not leaving feeling any better, I just let my thoughts and fears flood my Father's ears. I went way beyond the capacity of that glass and told Him everything. And I

mean  EVERYTHING. 

The result surprised me.....I did not hear any life-changing revelation or anything from God. Whatever. I'm not Moses. 

But what surprised me was the overwhelming reassurance that He isn't mad at me. He reminded me of things He told me at a healing prayer night, He showed me assurances in my current life that He loves me more than a deflated basketball or boxed up old clothes. He just loves me. 

He isn't mad. Not with the human anger that I always fear. He's mad at the things that keep me from him, which is exactly why I had to hand them all over to Him. 

So, if you're struggling with fear or talking to God today, just let it go. Spill your guts, even if it's scary. 

Because God deserves more than your garage sale love and He certainly wants to give you love beyond that. 

You're like the most expensive item at Tiffany's, baby.