Archive for May, 2008

eat more fruit

I’m preparing for another fast–food, tv, breathing, I’m not sure what yet.   Maybe YouTube.  Anyways.   We’re ( anticipating an upcoming series that could bring about unity and revival in the church like this world hasn’t seen since Martin Luther’s day 4 centuries ago.  Yeah, it’s that exciting.   It’s called OnePrayer and you can read more about it here.    It’s time for some serious prayer in anticipation and expection of what God is going to be doing in June around the globe and in the church.

So, I think I might just eat fruits and veggies and water–and fast from all other foods.  My question is this-do Cherry flavored poptarts count as a fruit?  How about Strawberry Newtons?   Lime Sherbet?  Seriously, I really like food.

THE Ace of Cakes

I have posted a couple of times about Cory, but nothing about my sweet Cameron–and she noticed.  I hate to leave her out, but I know she likes her privacy, so I was tryin to respect that. 

This picture is from last Christmas break.  It reflects 2 things she loves.  Baking and art.  That’s a gingerbread person cookie (in case you couldn’t tell).   It was de-lish, by the way.  Cameron’s an amazingly clever artist.   I love looking at her stuff–mostly drawings.  She has her very own style and an attention to details that most people wouldn’t think to add.  The other really cool thing about her art is that it usually represents thought, action, and story, so you can’t just look–you have to listen, too.

This summer, her goal is to make and decorate cakes–hopefully I can find someone to give these away to–can’t be eatin’ a cake a week all summer!  Yikes!   It’ll be fun though.  I love spending time with that girl.  and eating cake.  🙂

Be careful!

Be careful! 

 How often do we tell our kids this?  Sounds silly doesn’t it?   Be careful.  As if saying that will somehow protect them, or remind them to watch for cars, or whatever.  and if we don’t say it, they will be careless.  So, now, for fun, I tell Cory when he’s walking out the door…”Take chances!”

 Credit Tim Hawkins and the following hillarious video.

An Everlasting God

You know how you can hear the same thing over and over, and then one day…it becomes real?  Tonight during worship, we were singing about God being the Everlasting God.   I realized that all else fades away.  Everything I have here on this earth will dissappear.  None of it matters.  But God is Everlasting.   Everlasting!   The same tomorrow and in 100 years as He is today.

Ok, I’ve probably known this before, but it felt very real tonight.  Very true and very new. 

The day that Cory became “breakable”

One year ago today Cory broke his arm.   He was 13 at the time.  No biggie, right?  That, or worse, happens to people all the time, I know.  But, I have to blog about it.  It’s therapy.  I’ll try to be brief, but I have to process some details.  I’ll go easy on the icky details, but if you need to skip it, I’ll understand.

I know kids break bones every day.  I’m not sure why this was such a traumatic event in our lives.  Maybe because it looked a lot like this.  Maybe because I heard it break.  Maybe because I looked out the front door and saw Cory getting up, looking a little confused, and I couldn’t figure out why his arm was twisted that way.  Maybe it was the next 2 days of pain, with his arm only in a sling strapped to his body, every movement causing the bone pieces to shift and rub together, waiting for Monday morning so an orthopedic doctor could stabilize it.  Could’ve been any one of these things.

Thank goodness our friends, Alex and Misty, were over.  They stayed with Cameron while we quickly loaded Cory into the car that night and drove him to the hospital.  He didn’t cry.  He was scared, but only because of my reaction when it happened (nice job, mom).   The ride to the hospital wasn’t pleasant–he complained at every turn and bump.  Adrenaline was still covering the pain, though.   At the hospital, he kept asking us to tell him stories–stories he hadn’t heard before–anything to get his mind off his arm.  I read to him from a waiting room magazine–couldn’t think of any stories.

By the time, we got home later that night with the measly sling and some Lortab he was hurting and pretty exhausted, but refused to lie down.  So, we set him in a recliner, and tried to make him comfortable enough to sleep.  Unfortunately, the movement of getting up was too painful and he refused to get up–even though he hadn’t been to the bathroom for more than 18 hours.   Also, unfortunately, the Lortab made him sick and he started to vomit.   Man, that was a long day and 2 nights.

On Monday morning, I anxiously waited for the doctors office to open so I could call and get some help for my pitiful boy, who is still refusing to move from the chair.  Wednesday, they said.  They could see him on Wednesday.  “You gotta be kidding me? My child’s bone is broken through and the pieces are rubbing together when he moves. We can’t wait!”  “I’m sorry, ma’am, we can see him on Wednesday.”    Panic stricken, I hung up and called his pediatrician.  No problem, they said, let me make a call.   We took him in that day–got it casted and started the long road to healing.   Thank you, God.  Let’s not do that again, ok?

Touching Jesus

Luke 8:46   “Someone deliberately touched me…”

This story from Luke has been on my mind for the last few days.    It’s funny how I can be reading along, and something just stays with me.   It comes to mind at the weirdest times, and I really can’t move on ’til I’ve processed it.  

This woman was so desperate for healing and must have felt so unworthy that she just followed behind–reaching only for the fringe of his robe.  Only the fringe.   She didn’t even feel worthy enough to touch Jesus–only the fringe of his robe.  Wow.  The faith that implies.  The humility.  The brokenness.

When Jesus asked, “Who touched me?”  Peter said, “Master, this whole crowd is pressing up against you.”  In other words, lots of people are touching you–but Jesus knew that someone reached out to him.  How different is that to him?!   Jesus knew someone touched him deliberately.    Working at a church, it seems like I have all kinds of opportunities to be part of a crowd, near Him, maybe brushing up against Him.    Dangerous.

When was the last time you were so desperate for Jesus that you reached out to Him, hoping to at least touch the fringe. 


Mean and twisted

My kids, especially my 14 year old son, tells me I’m mean–and twisted.  Ya see, I have what I call a ‘defense mechanism’ that causes me to break out into a fit of giggles when one of my kids is in pain.   Seriously, I know it’s wrong, and I look like I don’t care, but I can’t help it!  I just can’t stop laughing. 

This issue is in some serious need of analysis.  So, let’s pick it up and turn it over and look at it, shall we?

or maybe not–i’m worn out from too much analysis; and anyway, my posts are getting less frequent–so I need to post something 🙂

thinking vs. praying silently

I have a internal dialogue.  I’m guessing that most people do.  A voice inside your head that talks when you’re thinking–no, I didn’t say voices, that would need professional treatment.  

What I struggle with is switching from this “internal thinking voice” to praying silently, and having it feel differently.  I know, it’s just a feeling–no, wait, a women would never say such a thing as ‘just a feeling“! 

So, anyway, I’m going about my day and I think of one of my kids–I decide to pray silently for them, and it just feels like an extension of the thinking about them.   Now, I believe by faith that God hears me–even my internal thinking voice when I’m not taking to Him, so I know he hears my prayers, but what I guess I’m missing is that feeling of connection to my Father.  Not always, but sometimes…right now…

To tell or not to tell

You don’t have to look hard in the Gospels to find stories of Jesus healing someone.   Crowds followed him every where, pursued him, and begged him to heal.  In fact, it almost seems to me that He was a one man healing side show.   Some people came just to see Him do it–like it was a form of entertainment.

Sometimes you read about Jesus telling the one who healed to go tell everyone what He had done(Luke 8-demon possessed man).  But then sometimes he insists they not tell anyone what had happened (Matthew 9–2 blind guys or Luke 8–Jairus’ family or Mark 1–guy with leprosy).   ???  I found more examples of Jesus asking the healed or their families to keep a lid on it.    I can’t imagine why.  Today, aren’t we supposed to spread the good news of Jesus and tell others what He’s done for us?  I wonder why it was different then?