The night before I had worked rather late, so I was already quite tired on my 8:30am drive in to the office.  A few minutes in to my trip it hits me that Sunday marks 10 years since we saw the Twin Towers fall, and the reality of our vulnerability set in along with the gruesome deaths of so many of our fellow Americans.  I say that it hit me, because with it came an overwhelming vision, the likes of which I had never seen before.  I can honestly tell you that I’m fairly certain that there are no words in any human language that can truly do this justice, but I’m going to be the best I can to portray to you what I believe God placed on my heart.

Almost as though I’m in the air above the wreckage I can see thousands of points of light; some moving quickly, and some unmoving; some high in the air, and some falling.  There is no dust or smoke, just light.  Just this pure, clean light.  I move closer to the ground and I’m able to make out more of the source of the light.  This is when I realize what’s happening.  In the midst of this disaster, there is an angel with each person.  Each person who died was being comforted and escorted to the Light by an angel of the Lord.  They were falling through the air with the men and women who jumped, and were with each and every person who was hidden in the rubble where they stayed until they were found or passed away.

And then the most amazing piece of this vision jumped out at me.  There were men and women running in to the darkness of the disaster, each with a warrior from the heavenly host accompanying him.  But our Father, our Warrior, was Himself carrying each of those men and women who carried someone out of the mess; holding their arms, and lending a supernatural strength to their bodies to endure the task.

As I was laying in my bed thinking through how to write this tonight I heard “look up ‘tower’”.

“The name of the Lord is a strong tower; The righteous runs in to it and is safe.” – Proverbs 18:10

May God bless and keep the brave men and women who woke up that morning not intending to end the day being called a hero, but who ran in to the tower without thought of their own lives to bring those who could not do so on their own to safety.

“My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.  Greater love has no one than this; that he lay down his life for his friends.” – John 15:12-13

Over 2,000 years ago Saturday was the day that the followers of Christ mourned.  Their teacher, preacher, brother, and friend lay dead in a heavily guarded tomb; the man whom they had placed their hope and faith in was gone.  Their belief of a better world was slipping away with every fading moment, and they couldn’t understand how this man who said he was the son of God didn’t save himself.  If not for himself, then for them.

That day marked what they thought was the end of everything.

These days, we’re lucky enough to know better.  The Scripture tells us what Jesus did that (Satur)day to finish what His Father sent him to do.  But back then, it was a different story.

The Saturday in our home was a day of mourning.  For reasons that I’d rather not go in to we had to take our dog, Alex, to the animal shelter with my only solace being that Irving is a no-kill city.

Alex was my first Christmas present from my husband, and has been a loving member of our family for 5 years.  When we picked him out, we were told that his birthday was in April so instead of trying to figure out the exact date we just told Jay that they could share birthdays.  For our then 5-year old, this was very exciting, and he made a point of including our four-legged friend in his celebrations every year.

When I was pregnant with Hayden, Alex was my protector.  If I was in my house, he was by my side.  If I was sleeping, he was either next to me on the bed or on the floor on my side of the bed.  When I cried, he nuzzled my neck and licked my face.  He was my best buddy.  After Hayden was born, he transferred that energy to him.  Any whimper or whine and he ran to Jeff or I faster than we could get to the crib.  He was Hayden’s best buddy.

The older Hayden got, the more and more jealous Alex became.  Hayden stole us from him – our time, our energy, and our attention.  It was a slow decline, but by Saturday it had peaked.  In our last moments together I brushed him.  Knowing that he was going to be placed for adoption, I wanted him to look his best.  And then I just loved him.  I cried, and he nuzzled my neck and licked my face, and just cuddled me while I pet him.  It was a moment in time where I think we both knew what was coming next, but we just needed to be.

In between the hugs and kisses, I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder, and that still, small whisper telling me that he will be ok.  He would be adopted by loving people who would be for him what he needed.  So why was that not good enough to make my heart stop hurting?  Because mourning opens my heart to healing.  Because He catches my tears in His hand, and He soothes my soul.  Because that gaping wound where my friend used to be, is the place where I need to let Him work.

Friday is gone, but Sunday is coming.  It’s just not today.

“Return and say to Hezekiah the leader of My People, “Thus says the Lord, the God of your father David, ‘I have heard your prayer, I have seen your tears; behold, I will heal you…’” 2 Kings 20:5

Tolerance is such a hypocritical word.  Dictionary.com defines tolerance as:

                “a fair, objective, and permissive attitude toward those whose opinions, practices, race, religion, nationality, etc., differ from one’s own…”

Our society has taken a stance where tolerance is expected for any and all attitudes, practices, races, religions, nationalities, etc.  The hypocrisy takes place when the tolerance is demanded, or forced by way of shame or degradation.  When approached in anger or offense, one will never convince the other person that their way of thinking or their attitude towards a situation is the correct one.  I don’t think there’s a better example of this than how Christianity is viewed today.  We’ve entered an age where being a Bible-practicing Christian is one of the most offensive stances you can take.  By standing firm in our beliefs we are thrown in to a plethora of stereotypes and labeled as bigots, intolerant, racist, and homophobic.

It all reminds me of Jesus when He entered the temple near Passover:

(In my own words) “It was almost Passover, so Jesus went to Jerusalem.  And when He got there, he found that the people had turned the place in to a flea market, so he fashioned a whip and ran everyone out, throwing the coins on the floor and knocking over tables as He did so.  Then He said ‘Get rid of this mess; I will not be tolerant of My Father’s house being turned in to a place of business.’” – John 2:13-16

Had this happened during our day, Jesus would have been told to be tolerant of it because it’s not hurting anyone.  Something similar may have even been said when it happened.  But Jesus did not come to earth to be tolerant of things that stand in opposition to His Father.  He came to change us – to save us; to show the love, mercy, and abundant grace of our Father, and to speak truth.  Jesus fought passionately against the things of this world that had arisen against God’s truth, He didn’t lie dormant and tolerate.

Society tells us to be tolerant of risqué television and movies, violent video games, inappropriate clothing, abortion, and sex outside of marriage under the premises of “it doesn’t hurt anyone”, but rarely (i.e. never) shows the world the damage that is caused.  “It’s not hurting anyone” is one of the biggest lies that the enemy has succeeded in convincing this world is true.  Our hearts take on such damage from these things that sometimes we don’t know that it exists until it’s overwhelming and we break.  Everything that we see, say, do, and think matters.  Anything said to the contrary is a bold-faced lie.

“The eye is the lamp of your body; when your eye is clear your whole body also is full of light; but when it is bad, your body also is full of darkness.  Then watch out that the light in you is not darkness.” – Luke 11:34-35

“The mouth of the righteous utters wisdom, and his tongue speaks justice.” – Psalm 37:30

“A soothing tongue is a tree of life, but perversion in it crushes the spirit.” – Proverbs 15:4

“The thoughts of the righteous are just, but the counsels of the wicked are deceitful.” – Proverbs 12:5

“For Jerusalem has stumbled and Judah has fallen, because their speech and their actions are against the Lord, to rebel against His glorious presence.” – Isaiah 3:8 (Emphasis added.)

The span of our influence as people in general is so much more vast than we can fathom.  It’s kind of like the butterfly effect.  When we’re having a conversation with someone, our words generally do not fall on deaf ears.  What we say is then processed by that person, which will produce either good or bad fruit.  The resulting fruit will affect how that person carries themselves, speaks or responds to people, disciplines their children, interacts with their spouse, etc.  Our words now affect not only the person we spoke to, but every person that person interacts with, and how each of those people interact with whoever they’re in contact with, and so on and so forth.  In my personal experience, this is even more significant in our actions via the old adage “actions speak louder than words”.

Really, the problem is that once we’re labeled as lacking socially-accepted “tolerance” for standing our ground against the things that go against the will of our Father, society turns off it’s ears, which is unfortunate, because not agreeing with someone does not translate in to how we feel about or treat the person or people involved.  For example, I don’t stop loving people who have abortions.  That would be cold and unfathomable.  In fact, I might love that person just a little bit more.  I don’t stop helping people who sin because we’re all sinners, and we’re all called to love each other with the deep and passionate love of Christ.  There will always be people out there who don’t do it all right – Christians, and non-Christians alike, but that’s why it’s even more imperative that as Christians we are sincere in our love towards God’s children because at the end of the day, we’re ALL His little ones.

“A friend may well be reckoned the masterpiece of Nature.”
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

I have some really great friends.

And when I say that, I mean that I have some really amazingly awesome friends.

And when I say that, I mean that I have some super in-tune with God, totally wise friends.

I love that I can say that, because there was a time in my life not too long ago where I couldn’t.  I went through a (really long) season where I believed that I just didn’t get along with other women, and I didn’t need female friends to be happy.  I had allowed the enemy to speak this lie to me in times where I felt I was wronged or betrayed, and I had given it authority to take root in my heart.

I have many examples of times when this has happened, but the one that caused me the most pain was about 8 years ago.  I had a few girlfriends who I felt were those forever type of friends.  We lived in close proximity to each other, and even went to the same church.  We ate meals together, went on field trips together, and generally spent a lot of time in the company of each other and each other’s families.  Slowly, this began to melt away.  I noticed that I was being left out of certain events, and almost completely ignored at church functions.  Then, when I was dating someone, I was accused of lying.  My heart was broken, and I begin to make an inner vow with myself about my female relationships. 

You see we, in our very nature, were created for fellowship with others.   We were never meant to go through life alone or without community, but far too often we take this path out of a fear of something.  Fear of being hurt, rejected, betrayed; and the list goes on and on and on.  But in the long run, it is fear that drives this lie straight in to the core of our being and keeps us isolated.  And isolation is what the enemy is hoping for, because we will always be more vulnerable when we are alone.  One sheep left on his own is open game for the one who would destroy him, but is defended and protected by the herd.  Our Shepherd rejoices when we allow Him to bring us home, and heal our hearts.

“What man among you, if he has a hundred sheep and has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the open pasture and go after the one which is lost until he finds it?  When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing.  And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep which was lost!’” – Luke 15:4-6

I recently attended a freedom ministry class/seminar at my church where I recognized my inner vows and judgments I had made in this area for the first time in my life.  It took me back to that place 8 years ago where I felt that I wasn’t worth someone’s time or friendship, and would be better off just being friends with men.  That vow took me down a very dark and destructive path that resulted in nothing but heartache and damage to my relationships with my family, including my husband.  It has only been in the past few weeks where I’ve allowed my Healer in to those places to not just repair, but to give me a new heart, completely void of those band-aids that I had used to patch up my own brokenness.

“Moreover, I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; and I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.” – Ezekiel 36:26

My new heart has opened itself anew to some really, completely amazing women.  Women who I know, in the deepest parts of my heart, will remain with me.  They’re my 3am emergency phone call friends.  The needing wise counsel for my marriage friends.  The non-judgmental because they’ve been there, too friends.  The ‘I’ll watch your kids because I love you’ friends.  The encourage me to do things God’s way even when it’s not the easy way friends. 

I have some really great friends.

“One of my current pet theories is that the winter is a kind of evangelist, more subtle than Billy Graham, of course, but of the same stuff.”

- Shirley Ann Grau

I really love the cold weather that winter brings.  Winter is one of my favorite times of year, because it brings about so many wonderful celebrations and events, and opens my generally busy schedule to more time with my family and loved ones.  This season of chilly winds, and slick roads was one of the reasons that I worried about my move to Texas from Kansas.  But as we have all learned, especially this year, winter finds its way to Texas, albeit a little late sometimes.

During our most recent burial in sleet and ice, I began to feel a peace surround me.  It was a different kind of peace, one that I was not familiar with.  And in my seeking, I came to realize something wonderful.  My whole life has been spent reveling in, and dreading winter all at the same time.  The cold was always welcomed because I really don’t enjoy the heat of the summer, but I missed the lack of green, and pink in the flowers.  The smell of freshly cut grass that begins in spring, and gorgeous coordination of leaves leaving their comfortable homes on the branches of trees in my back yard.  So why would we have this season that takes away every beautiful thing, leaving the world looking more like an old black and white movie than this amazingly colorful creation that was hand-crafted by our masterful Artisan?

Because God wants us to have a time of rest, and renewal.  A time to let old, unnecessary things die, and allow new, beautiful life to spring forth.

“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven:  A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plan, and a time to pluck up that which has been planted;”  – Ecclesiastes 3:1-2

I’ve misread that piece of scripture for years.

“To every thing…”

It’s not “To everything…”  It’s “To every thing…”

Each tiny, individual piece of this puzzle we call home; every plant, animal, person.  Every single person; man, woman, and child.  Each of them has a time and a purpose under heaven.  Not a one of us, whether we chose to acknowledge it or not, is here for no reason or on accident.  When we were woven in our mother’s womb, it was done so with a purpose for our lives.  A plan that was only ours, with a destiny that is as unique as we are.

^“For You formed my inward parts;
You wove me in my mother’s womb.
I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Wonderful are Your works,
And my soul knows it very well.
My frame was not hidden from You,
When I was made in secret,
And skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth;
Your eyes have seen my unformed substance;
And in Your book were all written
The days that were ordained for me,
When as yet there was not one of them.” -Psalm 139:13-16

We each have a time to be born (again), and a time to die (to self).  A time to pluck up all of those weeds that have been planted in our gardens, and start anew.

“Then Jesus said to His disciples, “If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me.” Matthew 16:24

But I’m straying from my point.

When the Lord commanded us to maintain and observe our Sabbath, He did so for us, and not for himself.  “See, the LORD has given you the Sabbath…” – Exodus 16:29 Sabbath was not created to become another legalistic rule of religion, but a time for our bodies and souls to settle, and our spirits to refresh and renew.  Winter is the Sabbath of the seasons; a time to soak in all of the goodness that only a period of rest can provide.  It forces us to stop (in the case of weather, sometimes literally), and allow old things to die.  New, good things, can only take root and sprout in us when we let the ugly things freeze and wither away.

I am so thankful to have a God who is so in love with who I am, that He creates this time for me.  Thank you, Jesus, for this seasonal reminder of not only your great power and glory, but your intimate love for me.

I made a lot of mistakes as a sister.  My little brother was born when I was 2 ½ years old, and from the moment that he was able to walk and talk I began picking fights with him.  Sibling jealousy?  Probably.  I mean, I was 2 ½ and all of MY attention was now being given to HIM, and I can imagine it was quite the culture shock.  But even amongst all of the bickering, I loved him.  I was proud of my little brother, and I loved showing him off like he was the new dolly that I got from Santa that Christmas.  As the years went on though, he learned how to fight back, and the older he got, the stronger he was and the more violent our fights became.  I can only imagine that my mother did not want to take us out in public as we looked like two abused children; scratches, cuts, and bruises everywhere.  Being a mother myself, the thought of my two boys fighting in this manner breaks my heart, so I can’t even begin to fathom how my mom felt.

When we were both teenagers we had the luxury of not being forced to go places with the other sibling.  Staying at home, locked in our rooms with our TV’s going, and sleeping in until 1 in the afternoon on the weekends sounded like a great idea.  The physical fights calmed down, but we still had our fair share of arguing.  Once we both had our driver’s licenses and cars, the ability to avoid the other one was easier than it had ever been before, and we did it as much as we possibly could.  I stayed busy with school and work, and so did he.  We had no spare time, and we liked it that way.  But the worst arguments were saved until I was 18.

My first pregnancy came unexpected and unplanned when I was 18.  Freshly out of high school, and entering college, I found solace in the arms of my boyfriend turned fiancé turned husband, and within 2 weeks of classes beginning I discovered that I was expecting.  My life was now shaken upside down.  The thought of being a mother scared me, and I think it scared my (ex) boyfriend/husband even more so.  This just happened to be the first straw to break the horses back in my relationship with my brother, because I think in his mind I had now become an embarrassment to him and our family.  The embarrassment continued after I married the father of my child, and our marriage became abusive.  I would leave, and then go back, and then leave, and then go back, until I finally left for good when he bought a gun and threatened to kill me.

It wasn’t until later in life that I realized how my actions were affecting those around me.  As I was dealing with my world being shattered into tiny pieces, and trying everything I knew to do to put it back together, I was causing a pain and grief to my family that I didn’t understand.  I was still only 19 years old, and in that “me” phase of my life.  My mantra rang to the tune of “this is all happening to ME, not you.  You have no right to be upset at me about it!”  I was so wrong.

Our bickering continued, but only when we had to confront each other, which we tried not to do.  After meeting my (current) husband, my family once again was at a crossroads, and I didn’t understand what the big deal was.  I had found someone who was sent to me by God, and all they saw was my next big mistake.  Why couldn’t they just trust me, and let me be happy?  After Jeff and I were married, we ran in to many more obstacles that caused me to drift so far away from my family that they were cut off completely.  It took many years of therapy with the Lord for Him to break through to me, but one day right before Thanksgiving of 2007, He showed me my mother’s heart.  It was a place I had never been before, and honestly, I don’t think I had ever tried to understand, and after that day, everything changed.  As God was busy restoring my relationship with my parents, my relationship with my brother was still wounded and torn, and that’s where it remains today. 

I have blamed myself for years for the state of our relationship.  From the beginning, I was the instigator, and until 3 years ago, I didn’t truly comprehend how my actions where affecting others.  There are days that go by that I believe deeply in my heart that it will never be fixed, and that my sons will never really know the amazing uncle, husband, and man that my brother has grown up to be.  I spend many days in a state of regret for having caused the obliteration of this part of my family, and think that it’s better just to move on and let it die. 

But every so often I see a light at the end of the tunnel, and as it shines brighter He reminds me of his promises to me.  And for a moment in time, I have a hope that wasn’t there the day before, and it’s that hope that keeps me believing for the miracle.

I bought a new purse last week.

I know, I know, that statement doesn’t seem like it should really inspire a blog, or have any kind of supernatural transforming powers, but it did and it does.

You see, I’m one of those women who only buys a new purse when she has to. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE shopping – just ask my husband (or don’t)! But the idea of emptying my entire life out of one bag and reorganizing it into another makes me anxious. It feels like I’m being shaken out of this complacent and comfortable place where I know where everything is, and everything has its place in all of the nooks and crannies and compartments. And that is the place where the Holy Spirit finds me.

“And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect.” – Romans 12:2 (NASB)

The past 6 months have been trying ones, so it doesn’t surprise me that He’s leading me to this time of change, and then making the means available. Back around April or so I thought it would be a great idea to schedule a Girl’s Weekend with my mom up in Wichita, KS. She and I used to do these often when I was a young girl, and I’ve grown to miss that time with her. So, we agreed to schedule it for the 3rd weekend in September, and figure out the money details later.

Over the next few months we planned out everything we wanted to do, and everywhere we wanted to go, and while we were planning those things my Father was planning my finances. One month, He made our finances abundant in a way that we had not seen in quite a while, so I hurriedly and excitedly booked my flight. Over the next few months, my family was hit with rather large financial needs. The refrigerator that we had been using was finding its home again with its original owner rather unexpectedly, and my youngest son and I both required surgery. All of these things required money that we did not have, and in turn, made me feel quite guilty about my “selfish” act of spending such a large amount of money on myself. I knew that He wanted me to invest this time with my mother, so I held tight to His promises, and He did what he always does for my family, and provided the means for all of those things to be taken care of. With all of that resolved, I felt like I was able to breathe again, and really begin to prepare for my trip. First on the list: a new travelling bag.

The trials of the past few years had begun to take a toll on me. It had not been anything increasingly stressful, just a lot of little things that I didn’t realize where burdening me suddenly piled up on my shoulders and started to weigh me down both spiritually and physically. I didn’t really recognize this in the beginning, and it took a few pretty harsh fights with people for me to figure out what was really going on. I needed to empty myself to Him, and start fresh; unload my troubles on the only one who can truly take them away.

“Blessed be the Lord, who daily bears our burden, the God who is our salvation. Selah.” Psalm 68:19 (NASB)

I spent an entire 30 minute drive just yelling at him (it’s ok, He can take it) about how I didn’t want to let this one thing go, and I wanted to be mad and feel the hurt that this person had caused me. But He knew the truth. I didn’t really want to feel that hurt, I wanted the other person to feel that hurt and learn a lesson. After He listened for quite some time to what I now remember as being quite an embarrassing display of ridiculousness, I stopped and listened. And He spoke. And I listened some more. And He kept speaking until I understood. And here is what I learned:

• Holding on to hurt and anger will only ever serve to hurt me, and keep Him out of healing those places in my heart that need it. (Mark 11:25-26)

• The person I hold a grudge against is still a child of God. They are still His son or daughter whom He loves and protects no less than he does me. My harsh feelings towards them hurt Him the most. (Romans 8:16-17)

• I will never, ever be able to be a better teacher than God. It is not my place to teach anyone a lesson, it’s merely my place to do what He says and let Him be the teacher. My job is to love. Period. (Job 36:22)

• Letting go of the little things as they happen will prevent this kind of explosion from happening in the future, and will leave me open to receive the blessings that Abba Father wants me to receive. (Genesis 49:25)

As I sat down last Thursday night and began pulling things out of my old purse, I found little trinkets, treasures, and trash that I had forgotten about. Some things were thrown away, others found new homes not in my purse, and some were given away, but they all found a new home one way or the other. My new purse, much like me, now contains only the things that I truly need to carry around with me each day, and serves to be much more of a beautiful vessel than a weighted burden.

Growing up, I did something that probably most little girls did – played dress up.  My favorite thing to dress up in was what I called my ballerina dress, which was really just a slip flared out at the bottom like a ballerina’s tutu.  I would proudly prance around my house (and front yard, much to my mother’s dismay) in nothing but my “ballerina dress” pretending that I was a princess, or, well, a ballerina.  I didn’t need anything else to feel elegant or beautiful besides that slip.  Such were the days of childlike innocence and self-confidence that seem to be quickly forgotten as we allow the opinions of the world to take root in our hearts.

“But Jesus called for them, saying, “Permit the children to come to Me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.  Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it at all.” – Luke 18:16-17 (NASB)

As a teenager, I transferred that energy in to magazines.  I engrossed myself in what society dictated beauty was, and bombarded my self-confidence in efforts to meet those expectations.  I wanted the most in-style clothing, the best hair, shoes, make-up, and of course I wanted to be skinny like the models on the pages.  Curves were not popular in high school, and I hated that I had them.  When I was unable to reach that level of perfection I desired, I went in to a deep depression that eventually lead me to attempt to take my own life.  It sounds petty, looking back, but at the time, those feelings were very real and very deeply rooted.  That deep desire to be seen as beautiful and to be accepted put me in many compromising positions, and repeated destructive, demeaning relationships.  I had forgotten that there was always someone in my life who saw me as beautiful and perfect, and instead sought out an earthly acceptance that became my truest of desires. 

“For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them.” – Ephesians 2:10 (NASB)

All of those feelings only became more engrained as an adult.  My body being perfect would provide me the opportunity to find love in whatever way I could find it, so as long as I was beautiful on the outside that was all that mattered.  At least that was what I thought.  Only in the past few months have I honestly allowed the Lord to work on these things in my heart.   He began showing me who I was, and how He sees me.  It seems to be so easy to get caught up in how other people view us, and it’s been such a difficult journey coming to an acceptance that their opinions of whom I should be don’t need to matter.  But what I’ve come to understand is that if I am who He says I am then I will be what He needs me to be for those He places in my path.

Even while writing this, He’s reminding me of the confidence I had as a young child, not caring what anyone else thought of me while I ran around in my “ballerina dress”; I had no cares in the world.  My confidence needs to come from that place where I know who I am to Him; that confident place in my heart that accepts that I am beautifully and wonderfully made.  That place that accepts that He loves me so much that Jesus was thinking of me while he was on the cross; that place that knows deep down in the depths of my soul that he died for my freedom, my love, my heart.

“I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Wonderful are Your works, and my soul knows it very well.” – Psalm 139:14 (NASB)

To put this in a perspective that is easier for me to understand I think about how I view my own children.  In my eyes, my children are perfectly beautiful.  They have flaws, and do things that they shouldn’t do, but I love them no less than I did the day they were born.  In fact, I love them more every single day of their lives.  Their imperfections and missteps are merely opportunities to learn and grow, and I take such pride in them.  This is how our Father sees us.  He’s not sitting on his throne waiting to pounce on us when we screw up.  He’s a proud papa; celebrating in our victories, and comforting us in our defeats.  In spite of how badly or how often we make mistakes, we are still the most beautiful, perfect thing in His eyes.

“Are not the sparrows sold for a cent?  And yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.  But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.  So do not fear, you are more valuable than many sparrows.” – Matthew 10:29-31 (NASB)

So the journey continues to find that confidence I had as a child; to get back to that place in my heart that knew that my parents loved me and that I was always safe in the comfort of their arms.  Abba Father is the resting place of my soul, and in Him I am the beautiful and perfect daughter of a King.

I was speaking to a friend recently about how to break bad habits.  This is something that my husband can confirm that is not my strong suit.  When it comes to getting rid of habits that are prohibiting me from living my life as fully and joyfully as my God has promised me that I can, I can honestly say that it is something that I continually struggle in.  That conversation with my friend really placed this in my heart as something that I need to seriously address in my own life, because even though I have a wonderful husband and a beautiful family, I am still constantly plagued with things that would like to take my time away from them and I succumb to one too many of these temptations.

“Like a city that is broken into and without walls, Is a man who has no control over his spirit.” – Proverbs 25:28

The key to breaking unhealthy habits is making a conscious decision not to do it and to take control of our actions.  Yes, it’s really that easy.  If you need to stop telling mis-truths, then every day pray that God help you to control your tongue, and then think about what you speak before it leaves your mouth.  Ask Him to replace your words with his own.  

“The words of the Lord are pure words; As silver tried in a furnace on the earth, refined seven times.” – Psalm 12: 5

One of the most common misunderstandings about how God works is that “it will happen in His time.”  And here’s what’s wrong about that statement:  He wants you to be free now.  Not tomorrow, not next year, but now.  God’s heart is to see his children break the chains of bondage that the enemy has thrown upon the world, and be joyful!  He wants you to walk in the freedom and peace that He sent His son to die for.

“Submit therefore to God.  Resist the devil and he will flee from you.” – James 4:7

Submit and resist.  God gives us many lessons throughout his word that tell us exactly how to be free.  In James he tells us to submit and resist with the end result being that the devil will flee from you.  Our action is required to achieve the desired ending.  Every sin we commit is committed of our own volition.  We have the option not to sin, but as we all well know, this is something that we all fail often, but one of the wonderful things about God, is that he always offers us a way out of the sin and back to His open and waiting arms.

James goes on to say in verse 8 “Draw near to God and He will draw near to you,” and then in verse 10 “Humble yourselves in the presence of the Lord, and He will exalt you.”   This is a step-by-step directive!  We draw near, with the result of him drawing near.  We humble ourselves, with the result of Him exalting us!  He will never, ever overrule the free will that he has given us in order to force us to freedom and blessings.  Following Him is a choice that we must make every single day of our lives, and then follow through with our actions.  Our freedom is a result of Him acting in response to our actions.

There is no magical God button that we can press when there is a problem to be solved.  God will not swoop down, remove the temptation, and then prevent that from ever coming to you again without your having to so much as lift a finger.  Because of our free will, His action requires OUR action.  Our sins are committed consciously.  We can choose not to steal that pack of gum from the gas station, just as we can choose not to lie to our friend, spouse, or employer.  He has given us our tools for defense against the enemy in the Holy Spirit and the Word, and it is up to us to actively wear the armor of God in the battle for your heart.  He wants you to walk in Him, so walk on…

This past week has put me in reflection and correction mode. I’ve been reading The Power of Your Words by Robert Morris, and I must say that it has quickly become one of my personal favorites. You see, I’ve been one of those wives who, with good intentions, has slowly been pile driving my husband into the ground with all of the ways he talks to me incorrectly. “You’re supposed to love me the way Jesus loves the church, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t love the church that way!” has been my anthem. So in my frustration that he wasn’t succumbing to my corrections, I picked up this book thinking it would somehow justify everything I’ve been telling him NOT to do. It didn’t take long for my frame of mind to be uprooted.

Quickly, I discovered that this book was not going to correct him. It was going to correct me; change my frame of mind about how I speak to people, and to what my words truly equate. My prayers recently have been about Him changing my husband’s heart towards me so that he understands that his words, however innocuous, hurt, but the further that I get through this book the more I’m realizing that I need to change my heart towards Him first.

“This you know, my beloved brethren But everyone must be quick to hear, slow to speak and slow to anger;” – James 1:19

Slow to speak. That is certainly not a description of my interactions with those I love. Sometimes my mouth gets me in trouble, and not even in the way I would expect. I’ve always taken pride in the fact that when speaking to my friends that I speak the truth of God’s word, and though there’s never anything wrong with that, I discovered this week that I don’t always do it in love which leads me to conviction and sometimes guilt. Truth can be spoken in a way that shuts people’s ears to it, and while I’m trying to convey the truth of the Word to my friends and my husband I’m not watching the way I’m saying it. So, slow to speak is my new anthem for the week.

“Like a madman who throws Firebrands, arrows, and death, So is the man who deceives his neighbor, And says ‘Was I not joking?’” – Proverbs 26:18-19

How many of you didn’t realize that God addressed the “it was just a joke” commentary in the Bible? *Raises hand* I didn’t until yesterday, and that one cuts like a knife. I use that all of the time at home; with my husband AND my children. Words have the power to kill even if it is “just a joke”, but truth spoken in love has the power to give life. My speech towards my husband has not been life-giving water, it has been deathly poison. Again, this is not something I’ve been doing on purpose, but the “suuuuure honey, whatever you say, dear” and the “of course you know eeeeeverything, sweetheart” said in sarcasm are not honoring him, and do not make him want to respect me with his words in return. So there’s my second conviction.

Jeff and I went to a marriage seminar for Marriage Today with Jimmy and Karen Evans. I highly recommend that all married couples attend one of their conferences regardless of how long you’ve been married. But the most important thing that I took away from the three days of speaking was when Karen was speaking about how they repaired their nearly doomed marriage. She began praying for her husband, and not in a “God, please fix him” kind of way. In a “Lord, please change me” kind of way. She discussed (and Jimmy confirmed) that what saved their marriage was that when there was a problem, Karen didn’t immediately try to change him or ask God to change him for her. Her first step of action was to pray that God change her heart and make her a better wife. She slowly began implementing the changes in her life that the Lord was showing her, and as Jimmy began to see these changes he began to change himself. That is my third conviction. “Lord, change the way I speak to my husband. Let only life-giving words pass through my lips in to his ears.”

I can’t change my husband. No person can truly change another person. But we can inspire. Changing my speech is a tough challenge for me, but through Him all things are possible, and I know that with persistent prayer and practice that my words can change everything.