He just chases me...

Names.  They are so important to us.  For some reason I hit my 40's and names have become my nemesis.  We had a beautiful guest speaker at the church and I introduced her as Lisa.  HER NAME IS LORI!  So I played if off by saying I have issues with names and asked how many people in the room I had butchered their names.  At least 10 ladies raised their hands.  Yikes!  I didn't realize I had gotten that bad.  So, time for self reflection.  Am I not listening well?  Am I speaking before I think?  Am I presenting face conversations and relationships?  Can I blame social media because everyone abbreviates or adds middle and maiden names?  Irregardless it's time for a little self discipline.  This I'm my conclusion and I will do it.  But then I am shopping with my little one.  A young boy walks by and eagerly smiles and waves at my daughter.  She returns the smile and enthusiastic wave.  "He seems like a nice boy.  Whats his name?"  She replies "I don't know.  He just chases me."

Last Picked

Last Picked:

Being concerned about being picked last never goes away. It’s not even just about sports anymore.  Am I  last to know about a prayer request or Bible Study  Will I have a seat or will the tables be full?  Do I sit to the back or the front?   Do I look good to my boss?  Will I be next to be promoted?

I have hypothyroidism.  Symptoms are fatigue, weight gain, and anxiety.  EVERYTHING a women fights and doesn’t have time for!  I have things to do and places to go!  So…I weigh 20lbs more than I did when I went into the hospital at 40 weeks pregnant to deliver my first child.  40 weeks pregnant weight = current weight.  That is a terrible equation.  I don’t want to get into the entire “I’m Fat” body image thing.  I want to get into the “I don’t feel healthy” thing.  Please don’t read into this and send me every drink, shake and vitamin available.  I’m happy for you and and the answer you found for YOU.  It’s not my answer.  I like sports and activity.   I played basketball growing up.  The ting of a nice leather ball on a hard wood floor still surges adrenalin.  I have tried to start some womens pick up games but alas no women were found.  Also, I just physically couldn’t measure up to my memories.  So today I will lace up my tennis shoes and will join a pick up soccer game.  Soccer is not my sport.  All of my kids play…and play really really well.  Bu the fact is I HAVE to get out of the house.  I HAVE to exercise.  I sit here pumping myself up to go and my first thought is. Yep.  I wonder if I will be picked last.  Then I died laughing.  Really?  Am I going to be picked last is what is occupying my mind? Wow.  

So I played and was terrible!  Even the 11 year old girl didn’t trust me with the ball.  But you know what?  The ladies were nice and even invited me back.  No teams were picked and grace was given abundantly.  To walk in grace today...you have to get out and walk!

Prayer.

How many people do you know that say they are really really good at prayer?  I know a few but the majority of people I know think they aren't very good at it.  Why is this?  Who has taught them that there is a wrong and right way to pray?  We were on a missions trip and partnered with a really cool soup kitchen ministry.  They took an old school type bus put in restaurant booths and served soup our of crock pots.  It was very efficient, warm and welcoming.  They went TO the people who were hungry which I thought was cool.  A young man who we had ministered to early in the week got saved.  He was so excited he read the entire Bible in one sitting....all day and all night.  He went with us to the soup kitchen and started praying for people.  I was listening like a proud Momma then froze in shock!  He was swearing like a sailor while he prayed.  He told cancer to get the "F" out of one guy then asked God to help a lady deal with the S*#@ in her life.  I am hard to shock but the legalistic, conservative christian in me freaked out inside!  I turned to the missionary next to me and gasped "what do we do?".  The missionary next to me said "why would we do anything?  Isn't it beautiful?"  Um...what?  Help me with this.  How is it beautiful?  The missionary shared his heart about how beautiful it was because God was not offended.  He was delighted to hear this young converts prayers.  The young man believed God was powerful.  He believed He could heal.  He believe God accepted him for who is is and where he is and so HE PRAYED!

Sometimes we can be so hard on ourselves regarding prayer.  We aren't saying the right thing.  We aren't doing it right.  Should we kneel?  Should we stand?  Do we say scriptures?  Should I feel guilty that I didn't pray this morning as soon as I woke up.  The questions can go on and on.  Prayer to me is thanking God when something good happens.  Prayer to me is asking Him to help when you need help and wisdom.  To sit in a focused prayer time is good but not good if it is an act to make you a better Christian.  I am reading a book that I highly recommend regarding prayer.  It is good!  I hope you are encouraged by it as much as I was.  You can be good at prayer....no right or wrong time, place, or words.  JUST DO IT!

Death

"Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" I Corinthians 15:55

It's interesting that the older you get the more you experience death.  When you are small perhaps it's a distant relative or grandparent.  It it is someone close to you it could even be an unexpected tragedy.  Then you hit your 40's and the curse of Satan "Cancer" has inevitably struck someone you know or perhaps a car accident has taken someone you cherish.  Then you hit past 70 and your friends from Bunco, church potlucks and shopping transition to Heaven pretty regularly.  As a young woman I faced death with strength and muscle.  Hardly a tear was shed when I lost two brothers, Aunts, Uncles, and Grandparents.  I would tell myself "I can do this without crying...I am strong!"  Now...I cry.  I cry a lot.  I cry for my friends who were widowed way to early and are raising children alone.  I cry for the kids navigating life without someone to cuddle on the couch with.  I cry that people still have to handle the paperwork after tragic accidents when they can barely function.  

As I watch my Mom's friends Bunco group decreasing in numbers or listen to them talking about friends who have passed away...in a strange way it's almost like they seem to rejoice?  Tears streaming down smiling faces they talk of celebrations and congratulations.  You made it!  You lived life to the fullest!  You died content with a smile on your face, people who love you around you, and loose ends tied up.  Can I venture to say they seem successful?  Successful because they paid all their bills.  Successful because their children are grown, prosperous, and happy.  Success because they still love Jesus and are leaving this world a better place because they were in it.  Or successful because they overcame obstacles like champs and fought hard to the finish?  A popular song right now says "Death where is your sting."  If you are a Christian and you love the Lord with everything in you...the sting of death is muted.  Some people may not have this testimony.  They may be alone, scared and unsure of eternity.  This makes me so sad.  I want to die with a smile on my face.  I want to barely feel the sting of death.  I want my family and friends to smile with tears running down their faces.  I want to hear them say she fought the good fight and share memories of those battles.  I want to stand before my Lord with praise and thanksgiving.  Overwhelmed with is presence I want to rejoice.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s6duzVn5M6E

SNAKES

I have no fear!  As a child I would warn the monsters under my bed that I was coming for them.  1….2…..3….I would yank back the covers and look under the bed.  With confidence of a 6 year old, I KNEW that I had scared them away.   To this day I still have never found a single monster under my bed!

I was a young Mom with a 6 week old baby when I developed a loathing for snakes.  I was holding my infant in the kitchen and reach into a high cabinet for something.  During that process I accidentally knocked a snake off the shelf.  It fell with a zig zag fashion directly onto my babies tummy and then to the hard floor.  Every charismatic teaching in my life came out in that moment.  I cursed that snake!  I commanded it to be bruised under my heel and then called 911.  How dare that snake enter my house?  How dare it have the audacity to touch my baby!  Animal control located the snake and removed him.  Unfortunately an intense dislike or even a fear was left behind.  A funny sensation happens now when I see snakes on TV, in our pool or even at the zoo.  I get hot.  I start to sweat.  And then my skin starts to feel very uncomfortable. 

Lets fast forward 15 years.  For over 20 years my family and I have attended a church camp in the middle of nowhere about a 100 miles outside of Houston. At the beginning of camp this year the director let us know to wear closed toed shoes at night due to the increased activity of snakes.  They would most likely come out at night so make sure and keep a flashlight handy.  WHAT??  So the first night I walked very carefully and sure enough a small snake slithered down the road beside me.  Completely bothered I hurried to my cabin high stepping the whole way!  The next few days I didn’t see anything PRAISE GOD.  On the 5th day once again a snake crossed my path.  I could see the groove in the sand leading to where our paths would intersect.  But a funny thing happened.  That snake did not bother me AT ALL.  I was exhausted by giving 100% to the campers.  I simply did not have the energy for that snake.  I walked right beside it until he went his merry way.  Here is my thought.  Wouldn’t it be great if we were so busy with “Kingdom Business” loving others, feeding the hungry, clothing the poor…so consumed by making disciples that when Satan comes along side us we are simply too focused to be impacted by him.  We would just say “Oh, it’s just you.”  He is not worth our time, or anxiety, or our fear.  March on ladies!  March on!

Thank you for betrayal

Thank you for betrayal:

Lord thank you for allowing betrayal in my life. If I hadn't had people I loved turn their backs on me I would never have known true forgiveness. I would never have treasured true friendship. I would never have found humbleness within myself. I would have never been able to be family in the way that You wanted. I would have never learned what it was like to have hope repeatedly dashed and yet hope again. I would have never understood that Jesus needed Judas so He could completely fullfill His destiny.