Day 32: Basement Diving

I felt like a criminal yesterday. 

Just slightly.

My husband was hired to “take out the trash” and we were invited to pick through it – if we dared – for any possible hidden gems. 

Allow me to explain.

We know a woman who married a man.  And despite the rhythm of the last sentence, she didn’t swallow a horse to catch a fly.

They left the State unable to sell her house, so they rented it out.  In one word: disastrous.  While things appeared to go smoothly at first, after 6 months of no rent, and my hubby being hired to write a report and fix things they had broken, they were eventually “escorted” out by the police.

Needless to say, they had trashed the place.  And then left in a hurry.

So my hubby, being the stellar handyman that he is, was hired to clean the place out and get it ready for a short sale.  Before he and the 2 guys he’s hired sweep the place tomorrow and ship it off to the junkyard, we were encouraged to take a peek.

As you may know, I’m not too proud to turn down the offer to dumpster dive {or in this case, basement dive}.

While I wasn’t eager to rummage through the remaining garbage and chaos left behind…we did find some delightful nuggets within.

Namely:

• a fabulous Columbia winter coat, perfect size and color {grey/orange} for Joe - and he needed a coat as his is somewhere in our storage unit – yay, God!
• A pink animal print tent for little lady A
• An Elmo version of dance dance revolution {ha!}
• A pink, toddler winter coat
• A schnazzy hairdryer and other miscellaneous bathroom goodies
• A sturdy gun safe {will be needing that again soon!}
• A weight set {should be using that soon}

…just to mention a few of our fabulous finds!

After heavily sanitizing and bleaching things, we’re good to go!

I think it’s just hilarious that we have been so lavishly provided through the most unorthodox, delightfully unusual avenues.

Good thing we’re open to spontaneity and surprises!  God is just sneaky like that and I certainly don’t want to miss out on His crazy generosity and provision! 

What’s next?

I cant wait to find out!!

Day 31: What if…

What if God always gave us what we wanted, when we wanted it?

What if.

What if God didn’t, in fact, know us better than we think we know ourselves…but simply indulged our every whim?

What if.

What if we didn’t have an awesome, big, sovereign {and at times, sneeky} God who has incredibly magnificent plans up his {almighty} sleeves that just can’t be thwarted despite our constantly wandering hearts and indulgent ways.  We may take a more colorful route than intended at times, but as long as we allow Him to take the wheel, nothing can thwart His plan for our lives {phew}.

By this time today, 10 years ago, I was engaged.  It was the morning of my parent’s 25 wedding anniversary. I was 18, excited about the new millennium, and about to make one devastatingly destructive decision. 

I had walked away from the Lord a few years earlier, choosing rather to meander down what became a slippery slope of self-loathing, lying, shoplifting and promiscuity.  My life was a mess.

My fiance and I had dated for 3 years, and seeing that felt like a lifetime for someone of our age {he was 5 years older than me}, the next logical step was to get married.  Right?

Wrong.

A few short months later, after he returned to South Africa, our relationship fizzled for the final time.  An email shortly after valentine’s day left me single, devastated, and paying for a ring I no longer cared to wear.

My world as I knew it began to crumble.

What if that’s where the story ended?

What if.

While God allowed me to me smashed to smithereens, he lovingly picked up all the pieces.  After all, it was the only way He could reconstruct the mess I had made of my life.

Today I celebrate 10 years of divine intervention, of growing, of learning to trust Him to take the painful shards of my past and recreate an exquisite mosaic of His goodness.  A trophy of His grace.

I’m learning that it’s all about surrendering our past to His resourceful hands, living today to the max, and trusting Him fully with our future.

Confidence in the sovereignty of God is crucial to our trusting Him. If there was a single event in all of the universe that could occur outside of God's sovereign control then we couldn’t really trust Him. His love may be infinite, but His power would be limited and His purposes could be thwarted…so we couldn’t fully trust Him.  I’m relieved that’s not the case.

But scripture clearly tells us otherwise:

In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps (Proverbs 16:9)

Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails (Proverbs 19:21)

There is no wisdom) no insight, no plan that can succeed against the Lord (Proverbs 21:30)

Nothing is so small or trivial that it escapes the attention of God's sovereign control; nothing is so great that it is beyond His power to control it. 

And you better believe He is faithful to use every little thing we surrender – including an ugly, messy past involving date rape and stealing – to His glory.

Aren’t you glad we can answer the many “what if’s” with a resounding “whatever!”?

I’m so thankful that I can rest in the knowledge that as long as I’m putting one foot in front of the other, despite not being able to see more than 5 feet ahead, the one who walks beside me knows exactly where He’s leading me. 

And it’s sure to be a stunning adventure, with an even more glorious destination! 

Care to join me?

Day 30: What’s Up?

Well, I’m so glad you asked!  Here’s the nutshell version:

• Wake up to a visit from one of the Troopers at my husband’s post {Bridgeport} who bears an extravagantly generous gift from his brothers and sisters in blue {in check form}.  What an incredibly meaningful {and practical} gift from people he only worked alongside for a few short months.  We’re still making futile efforts to scrape our jaws off the floor.  God is good.
• Feeling a little off.  Especially with my hubby.  Cant quite put my finger on it but its bugging me that we feel out of sync.  Feeling strangely fragile.  Is it simply shifting post-natal hormones?  Or a stealthy attack from the enemy of our souls…a lousy attempt to steal our joy?  Or both?  I’m praying about this.  Can’t stand feeling amiss like this.
• Struggling a bit with my m-i-l and the new husband she acquired along her out-of-State travels.  Odd couple.  Wrestling with where and how to establish healthy boundaries, being wise and generous, while honoring both her and my hubby.
• Loving the smell of coffee.  Appreciating my copious cups of tea.  Needing to drink more water.  Not really missing the sweets.  Enjoying feeling in control of my cravings.  While others indulge in chocolate cake and Christmas cookies, I munch on delicious peppers and hummus.  Hmm mm good.  I bogart an entire ziplock baggie of peppermint bark {ooooh} for 12:01am on January 1st.  I sense an overdose brewing.
• Escaped to my sister and b-i-l’s house for the live Survivor finale.  Thoroughly enjoy more goggle-box watching than I’ve done in the last few months.  Feeling refreshed.
• In shock that Christmas lingers a mere 5 days away.  Whoo hoo…I love Christmas.
• 10 days to New Year…I love New Years too {but for completely different reasons}.
• Life is delicious!

Day 29: Let’s Try This Again…

December 19th, 2008 couldn’t have come any faster.

After 19 weeks of grueling State Police Academy, my hard-working, determined, unbelievably sexy husband finally got to don the sharp blue uniform of a Michigan State Trooper, shake hands with the Governor {yeah, about that…}, and get sworn in.  And then the moment I had most been looking forward to…I had the privilege of pinning his badge on.

It was one of his proudest moments.  And mine.

6 short months later, he was turning his badge, uniform and gun back in.  His glorious reward for the blood, sweat and tears poured into this dream job was suddenly ripped from his clutches.  I didn’t even get the chance to meet his coworkers. 

We were left devastated and reeling.  And unemployed.

Enter God.  Almighty saver of days {not to mention the world}.

While the last 6 months {well, seeing academy was tough for everyone involved…lets just say the past 17 months} have been tough.  To put it mildly.  We’ve faced some of our darkest days.  But we’re also experienced some of the sweetest moments together.

My mom has always said: if you want to see “God the healer”, you need to be in a position where healing is needed.  Sadly, that involves someone not being well.  If we want to experience “God the provider”, we have to be in a position where we need to be provided for.

These past several months have been hard.  They have been long.  They have been frustrating.  But they have also been filled to the brim with glorious, miraculous moments of divine provision and healing. 

I would not trade the past few months for comfort, ease or money any day.

We have seen characteristics of our God that we have never encountered so intimately.  His abundant provision.  His incredible healing {of our son}.  His sweet grace.  His delightful sense of humor.

While parts of me have deeply struggled with – and at times, resented – the past few months.  I have LOVED them.

I know.  Maybe I’m a sucker for punishment.  But really, it just boils down to this:  when I can’t SEE God’s HAND, I’m learning to TRUST His HEART!

And on this snowy 19th of December, 2009, just 6 days from Christmas, and just 365 days from the first time my hubby earned his dream job…we chomp at the bit.  Not because we’re getting antsy.  Or hungry, for that matter.  But because we’ve heard from the “big wigs”, it’s official. 

On January 11th, my husband will again don the blue uniform of a Michigan State Trooper.

Whoot whoot.

What astounds me about the timing is this: the first time I did a 40 day fast, 7 years ago, something beautiful happened.  I was praying about the man the Lord would have me marry.  I was tired of being single, antsy that God would just smite me for all the stupid things I’d done in my life and as punishment, lump me with a grumpy, ugly, hairy old man.  After all, that’s what I felt I deserved. 

I was over fretting about it and needed to completely surrender it to God.  So I did.  And on day 40, I received my first email from a young man I had just recently met at a Michael W. Smith concert.  His name?  Why, it was Joseph Martin Bruce McMillan. 

And again…these 40 days are bringing about beautiful things.  God is so ridiculously faithful to honor our small, silly {un-chocolately, decaffeinated} efforts that it just takes my breath away.

While we don’t know what 2010 holds, we do know who holds it. 

And for this reason alone, we are geeked beyond belief!

Day 28: Home Sweet Home

I did not think I would say this.

Especially as a 28 year old mother of two, living at home {again} with my husband, but…

I couldn’t wait to get home to my house this morning. 

My parents house, that is.

Because for right now {and for the past 6 months}, it is our house too.  Our home sweet home.

We were invited by a sweet couple we know to stay in their house while they cruise the Caribbean. 

Of course we would rather have stayed in their cabin while they cruised the Caribbean, that wasn’t an option. 

So their house was the next best thing.

This is not the first time we have been offered an “escape”, and we so appreciate the sentiment.  The sympathy people feel for our current situation is very thoughtful.  And we understand why they think we would jump at the opportunity to live outside of our shared room/nursery/office, community-style boarding in my parents house.

And oddly enough, I’ve turned down the last two offers to have a temporary home to ourselves for a few days.

And now I know why {kudos to a mother’s instinct!}

I have a curious, adventurous two year old who lives to explore her world.  And other peoples homes.  Other people, inevitably, have pretty breakables, edible Christmas tree ornaments, and glitter within reach. 

This makes for a somewhat stressful “escape”.  After a few hours, I wish to escape from our escape.

I also happen to have a 4 month old who is getting terribly bored with sitting and laying down.  He would much rather spend his expanding awake time by stretching his little legs and standing.  Rattles, teethers and other baby bling are also needed now to keep him stay entertained.  This involves being held and played with the entire time, or lugging all his enormous baby accoutrements along.  This is not an option, really.

Needless to say, this makes for a somewhat exhausting
“escape” and, after a few hours, I wish even more to escape from our escape.

Oh, to be back in our comfortable {albeit cramped} quarters where the toddler runs free {mostly} and the bambino is entertained.

Why did we leave here again?  Oh yes, to get away from all the other people {aka. 3 other family members} and to enjoy some alone time.

If it hadn’t taken Joe ages to get Alathea to bed {she cried and cried her little eyes out because she didn’t want to sleep in this strange house, in the big, big girl bed} and if I hadn’t fallen asleep part-way through the movie {hmmm, romantic}, I’m sure it would have been fabulous.

It probably would have helped to have taken some food.  And milk.  And clothes.  I threw our toothbrushes, their diapers and Aiden’s meds into a bag and we walked out the door.  In my stubborn effort to not feel the stress of having to pack a ton of stuff to drive down the road {they only live 5 minutes from my parents}, we were hungry and disgruntled.  And I smelled like baby vomit.

So we’re back again.  We boycotted the remainder of our “escape” for the simple joys of home.

When I walked grumpily past my mom this morning, antsy{hungry} children in my arms, bags on my shoulders, looking rather forlorn…my mom smiled sweetly and with a wink said, “welcome home, sweetie”.

What a great reminder last night was.  While I may not be in my own home, while I didn’t get to nest and create a haven for our latest arrival, while our lives may be boxed up in an enormous storage container in North Lansing…this is home.

And I love it!

Day 27: Pulling Weeds

It is 7:45 am, I am on my 3rd cup of tea, and am enjoying my second quiet morning to myself in a row.

The closing prayer in the devotional this morning ends with, “help me to realize that however hard their message is to hear, they are sent for my good – to point out the holes in my character I am so blind in seeing and to pick out the weeds in my heart I am so fond of protecting…”

The weed-pulling messenger, last night, was my husband.

As we snuggled up in bed together he sweetly said, “honey, I need to talk to you about something”.

UUachggh! was my exact thought.

He continued with a gentle, and yet firm, pointing out of something in my demeanor and attitude over the past couple of weeks that has grieved him.

Oddly enough, I had been thinking about this earlier {as I did it} and it grieves me too.  And, sadly enough, it has been an issue for much, much longer than a few weeks.

While I’m generally a patient, gracious person… I seem to boycott those characteristics for less tender ones when dealing with my mother.  Not always.  But often enough for it to need to be dealt with.

I don’t know why I do it, or what triggers the mean-spirited responses to simple comments that undoubtedly leave her feeling stupid or small.  I’m aware of my attitude the entire time, and even twinge at the snippy remarks that seems to shoot from my mouth, and yet struggle to stop the onslaught.

This is my mum.  My beloved mother who birthed me and raised me, sacrificing time and time again to give us the best childhood possible.  Of course she wasn’t perfect.  But who is?  But she was, and is, a stellar mother, a stunning example of a wife, and an incredible expression of a woman after God’s heart.

Why, oh why, do I stoop to this level?  And with her of all people.

I have found that it is the people closest to us – the ones we love most – that we can be least loving to.  Is it the safety of knowing that they will stick around despite the treatment that leads us to believe that this behavior is okay?  Or at least, tolerable?

I find that I can push, and push, and then push a little more, just to see whether someone will ‘man up’ and push back.  It’s as though I just want to know whether I can push them to the point of them putting their foot down and declaring, “ENOUGH!  It is NOT okay that you treat me this way and I will no longer stand for it”.

The only other person that I’ve done this with/to {to this degree}, was the poor guy I was engaged to 10 years ago {another post for another day}.

It breaks my heart that such a magnificent woman would bring out such an ugly side of me.  With no fault on her.

So it’s time to dig deep.  I need the Lord to show me what the root of this ugliness is so I can deal with it and get on with loving and honoring my mother the way I should. 

The way I would want my daughter to treat me.

I am so thankful for a husband who loves me so entirely, and yet who has the balls {excuse my French} to call me out when I am wrong. 

I love that he loves me so ridiculously much.  And I love that he loves me too much to allow me to get complacent with the way I am.  He faithfully and tenderly helps me tackle the issues that arise in my character as we walk through life together.  And he is receptive to the {tactful} pointing out of his own issues. 

As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.
{Proverbs 27:17}

This is all a part of God’s glorious plan in marriage: to refine each other, to stretch each other, to challenge one another to grow in grace and glory.  To be refined to the point of more accurately reflecting the image of the Creator.

The musician Sting put it perfectly while being interviewed and talking about his wife {who he is just smitten by}…“You know, what I mean, you could say, 'I love Trudie,' but that's a given," Sting said. "I really like this woman. When she walks into the room, my world lights up."

Yes, I love my husband.  So much more now than I did 7 years ago when I first fell in love with him {and I recall thinking…how is it possible to love this boy any more?!?}. 

But the key is…I like him!  I adore spending time with this incredible man.  He is a true delight to my heart.  I enjoy his company more than any other person alive.  I have never been sick of spending time with him {despite spending 5 weeks travelling through Southern Africa with him and not being apart for more than a few hours}.  He is completely and utterly, no doubt about it, my best friend in the entire world.  I appreciate him.  I admire him.  I respect him.  I totally have the hots for him.  I am thankful for his ability to bring out the best in me…while tenderly pointing out the worst in me. 

I like him.  Very much indeed!

So with his help I will be working on my attitude towards my mum.  I have asked him to hold me accountable to speak to her with respect, with patience and with love {no matter how many times she asks me the same question}. 

I’m praying that the Lord will reveal the root of this heart issue in me.  I trust Him to rip out the ugliness {gently, please Lord?} and soften my heart towards this beautiful woman.

I know there is so much more to this weed than what meets the eye.  There always is.  And I’m looking forward to having it’s unsightly presence {and damaging hold} removed from the soil of my heart’s garden.

I’m excited.  I’m anxious.  I’m hesitant.  I’m not in the mood to be introspective.  I’m not feeling like delving into the depths of my mental basement.  But I want it gone.

So…buckle your seatbelts, folks…here we go!

Day 26: The Little, Itty, Bitty Stuff

While it’s a common phrase…”don’t sweat the small stuff”…and it’s something we should all strive to implement, I believe it would behoove us to take that a step further.

Oh, and lucky me!  It seems I have had a crash course this year in learning to notice, and appreciate, the small things.  Deliberately choosing to take my eyes off all that is not the way I feel it should be and focus on the many little, seemingly insignificant things that are perfectly right.

And it is changing the way I see my day, my surroundings, my life.

You see, it’s all about perspective. 

I realize I say this a lot, but I truly believe it. 

And to re-emphasize its importance in my life, God drove it home in the prophetic word I got from my facebook buddy a few days ago, check it out: “Just sit back and watch the cool things God wants to do to provide for you. Truly, perception is everything. A glass half-empty is the same as a glass half-full, yet so different according to how it’s perceived. As long as you move forward in the conviction that the Lord will always provide for you, you will continue to see true prosperity as a result. Expect to see God’s generosity, and you will see it more clearly.”

Isn’t that just astonishingly cool?  Yeah.  He loves me!

So this morning, after my precious boy {very almost 4 months old} had slept 8 hours {something Ali didn’t do until she was well over a year old}, I got up to nurse him and instead of hitting the sack again afterwards {so as to milk every last ounce of sleep I possibly could out of the night}, I sat down with a cup of tea and my favorite devotional and preceded to weep my eyes out. 

Side note: Ken Gire {auther of “Moments with the Savior”} has a way with words that will leave you completely and utterly speechless. 

If you don’t fall in love with the Jesus written about in this book, well…you must be reading a different book. 

You feel as though you are right there in the moment, smelling the mingled splatter of blood and sweat, hearing the passionate chants of the angry Jewish leaders, feeling what Mary must have felt looking up at her beloved son dying a gruesome death on a Roman cross, tasting the bittersweet prayer of a Savior taking his last breath. 

This devotional will knock your socks off, blow your mind and melt your heart all at the same time!  Its so good!

Back to the itty, bitty things {as clearly…that is not one of them!}

I so enjoyed sitting in a {seldom} quiet house…mom and dad were already up in Alma for the day, Becks spent the night out, and my 3 loves were all fast asleep. 

While simple and small…it was HUGE to me this morning.  It almost felt magical.  The sun was hitting the snow in the trees outside…the snowflakes being blown gently off the treetops glistened as they wafted to the ground.  Not a sound in the house.  Just me.  My cup of tea.  And Jesus.

It is obviously a rare thing that I get a chunk of time to sit down and spend quality time focused on scripture.  Unfortunately this is not always because of how busy life can be, but because I just don’t make enough of an effort to put my spiritual life before other less important things in my life. 

And, quite honestly, sometimes I just don’t want to slow down enough to do it.  Its often a real struggle between my flesh and my spirit.  But I’m always so thankful when my spirit wins.

I need to work on this!  Again.  As always.

Wonder of wonders…I even got a shower in after my quiet time.  I almost didn’t know what to do with myself.  Tea down, tank filled and clean…I felt like a new woman!

So, newly charged about how vital this time truly is for me – and how instrumental it is in setting the tone for my attitude and ultimately my day – I want to make a point of doing this more often.

Again.

It’s been a struggle my entire life to set apart quality time to spend focused on God, listening to His heart for mine, and was associated with such mega feelings of guilt and failure that I just threw in the towel for a while.  I didn’t even try anymore.  I was so tired of trying…and failing.  Starting to read through scripture in a year…and dropping out {again} in mid-February. 

I just seemed to suck at being a Christian. 

And I know that I’m not the only one who wrestles with this stuff {especially for those who grew up in Christian homes}.

One gets tired of feeling like a dismal failure.  15 years of feeling this way doesn’t make for good devotional time associations.

And then my happy {read: exhausted}, comfortable {read: stiff} little world changed.

I encountered my ‘Papa’ in a whole new, wildly freeing, refreshingly different way…at the shack.

However controversial it may have been amongst the Christian world, reading The Shack played an enormous part in me being released from the heaviness of expectation I always assumed was a part of being a Christian.  It was the single most powerful tool in taking my walk with the Lord from stiff and blah to free and exciting. 

I often pick it up and read a few select pages when I’m in need of a break from the religiosity that so easily entangles my heart and mind. 

Christianity seems to have become so much more about shoulds and shouldn’ts, about stale, legalistic religion…than it has about freedom and joy in Christ.  What a sad, sad situation.  No wonder no one wants what we have.  I’m not sure I would if I was on the outside looking in.

No wonder the world seems to choke down Christianity in order to get to the Christ they so desperately need in their lives.  It’s like downing the icky seaweed shake in an effort to absorb the rich nutrients it boasts within.

I want to encounter, on a daily basis, this radical God I know lives within me.  I see His fingerprints on my life and I love the astonishing beauty He’s brought from the pathetic ashes of my life {another post for another day}.

This is what I so desperately want.  What I so desperately need.  What we all need!

Life.  Glorious LIFE.  Life to the fullest.  The way He intended it to be. 

Its quite simple really.  It’s us who complicates everything.

 

{Wow.} 

I guess I’ll hop down off my soapbox now.

So apparently today’s journal is not in fact about the “little, itty, bitty things” as originally intended, but rather about the deep, nitty, gritty things. 

Sorry. False advertising.  I know.

Maybe tomorrow?

Or. 

Maybe not? 

Guess we’ll have to see, won’t we!

{But you did get two great book suggestions out of the deal}