First in My Heart

I’ve been struggling a little.  I think it started with a busy schedule that took me out of town for nine days out of the last two weeks.  I’m sure there was also stress coming from the holiday season itself and the impending family relationships and dynamics.  Tonight I returned from visiting family in the San Francisco area.

Although I’m relieved that the visit went well, I’m also aware of feeling more distant from God.  I’m realizing that in my business and anxiety, I probably pulled away from God.  When times got hard, I instinctively and unconsciously behaved as though I could handle things on my own.  So I’m also starting this week aware that I have another out of town trip in a few days – but also the awareness that I need to make time to be with my Father.

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” John 10:10

“Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.” Psalm 51:10

“Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.” Proverbs 3:5-6

“Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free." John 8:32

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28

“Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” Hebrews 11:1

I Know it was the Blood

One day when I was lost, He died upon the cross...classic Mahalia Jackson - I ♥ it!



~M~

The Best Path through Life, is the Highway

Last week while I was in San Antonio, I met a guy from DC in the training class I was attending.  We went to dinner and a movie and then lunch together the next day.  Conversation flowed fairly easily and part way through dinner, we discovered we were both Christians.  For the remainder of the training week, we kept each other company in class by texting about our classmates and events in class and on the last day, we agreed we’d keep in touch and maybe get to hang out again one day.

Also last week (and for possibly the millionth time), I watched part of my all time favorite romance movie ever – Love Story.  I love this movie, with preppy Oliver and feisty Jennifer – this time, though, I watched it with an anxious ache in my stomach.  It reminded me too much of the somewhat recent demise if my own amazing love story.  It’s been almost a year now, since we’ve been together and I still think about him all the time.  The strength it takes me every day to resist contacting him, is not my own and experiencing it, is all I need to believe in miracles.

Two months ago, with great trepidation, I gave my Oliver – as well as my entire love life – to God.  I knew He was asking me to put the whole subject at His feet and then leave it there.  It was honestly the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.  First, it was terrifying because of my deepest fear that I’ll end up a single spinster like many of the women in my family have.  Second, the idea of giving up males and love and dating was a hard one, because of the caveat to leave it with God.  Anyone who knows me, knows my hobby is the male persuasion and in the words of a new coworker recently, “…you can give up men, but they will never give up you.”  I wasn’t confident if I gave my love life to God, that I would be strong enough to resist opportunities to take it back.

I still think about my Oliver every day.  And I have to remind myself almost every day that God has my love life now and He will take good care of it.  Giving up control of that part of my life was and is hard.  It’s not a blissful ride, occasionally I get panicky or resentful.  It annoys me that I have to sit behind not one, but two canoodling couples on my flight from San Antonio to LA.  I mean, come on!!  But still, I know He’ll take good care of me.  Since giving my love life to Him, I’ve met two new men…and both are Christians.  That’s a big deal to me because in 16 years as a Christian, I’ve met and dated exactly...one fellow believer.  So it feels like a sign on the interstate telling me I’m not there yet, but I’m headed in the right direction.

I haven’t given up on my Oliver completely and I haven’t been able to get clarity on if giving him up is even something I should do.  So in the meantime, I pray and I focus on myself and my walk with God…and until He tells me different, I hope.  But while I hope, I’m also more acutely aware that when God is in the driver's seat, I don't have to know where I'm going, I can just sit back and read the signs.

Love Story is my favorite romantic movie ever…I know the story, I’ve seen the “signs”…but I’ve never actually seen the end. That’s fitting, I think.

Love y’all,
~M~

Who am I...?

Hi y'all, I have a lot to say, but this week has been pretty busy traveling to San Antonio for work.  I'd anticipated quiet nights holed up in a hotel room, but so far, that hasn't happened and doesn't look like it's going to.

So for now, I'll post this...created by a beautiful, inspiring, phenomenal Delta I know in DC.  Love you Jacqui!

...enjoy...

"Who am I?

I’m a well oiled machine, smoothed out with exotic polishes, buffed to perfection by heartache and sunshine.

I’m a diamond without the rough, singed with the pain that has shaped me, freed by His blood, my sweat and a combination of tears.

I’m history in the making, whose story will be sweet although outlined with peaks and tainted by valleys.

I’m like a full moon lowering in the horizon. I touch mountain tops, skim seas and light darkened paths.

I’m heavy with creativity and light with burden. I curse obligation and guilt but oblige independence and beauty.

I’m a love waiting to be raptured; still enough to feel even the slightest motion, swift enough to catch a glimpse of destiny.

I’m as precious as the commodity time slipping through your fingertips with each wasteful decision, easily freed yet never retroactive.

I’m the essence of reckless beauty, refined by flaws and empowered beyond belief.

I’m the sand disappearing with each crash of the oceans wave; memories fade in and out with each current.

I am who I am. Parts will remain the same and the rest will expire with the exit of each season, transition as the caterpillar captivates its audience in a beautiful transformation to a butterfly.

I am HIS beautiful creation."

Love y'all,
~M~

Speed Trap

The State of California sent me a letter last week.  I suspected (correctly) it wasn’t a love letter.  I have a whole routine for receiving bad news via the postal service.  Even if it’s delivered to my home, I will not open it there and I never – ever – open bad news mail on Fridays or weekends.  I finally grabbed my less-then-love letter off the microwave on the way to work one morning.  It was a note from the capitol, reminding me that my driving privileges in this illustrious state are under threat.  Well, I knew that already.

Everyone has told me I have one more strike after I received two speeding tickets in the same week when I first moved here.  California appears to believe that if you get three speeding tickets, you do not know how to drive and therefore, deserve to have your license suspended.  I prefer to think if you get speeding tickets (regardless of the number), it’s not because you don't know how to drive, but because your free spirit cannot be limited.  But whatever.

I wasn’t on the highway ten minutes when I came up on a truck – in the slow lane – going really slow.  Yeah, it was ridiculous, he was going like, sixty.  Never so much as lifting my foot from the gas, I pulled into the next lane, passed the truck and then returned to my spot in the law-abiding-citizen-good-grief-this-takes-forever-to-get-to-work lane.

It was a busy day, full of meetings and challenges, needy employees and email plans for weddings and vacations and career choices with friends.  Challenging coworkers, joking with coworkers and short fuse deadlines.  Family needing my attention, appointments to be scheduled and errands to run during lunch.  Eight hours later, it was finally time to go home.  As I was pulling out of the parking lot, I turned the radio off and just listened to the quiet.  “I can hear you now.” I told God, “Let’s just go home, you and me.  No music, no cell phone, no mental lists for tomorrow.  Just you and me.”  All the way home, while I chattered away to God (yeah, out loud, lol ;), I also kept reminding myself to at least stay in the general vicinity of 60 miles per hour.  Or else.

It’s so easy to get going in life and then pretty soon, we don’t even know why we’re going so fast.  There are warning signs – letters from the state, or maybe skipping our daily time in the Word a little too often – but we ignore them.  If we’re not careful, if we ignore those warnings for too long, we’ll be left with larger issues.  If my foot doesn’t hurry up and come off that gas pedal, I’m not going to have a license, or insurance to cover the car I won’t be able to drive anyway.  If we pack our days so full of stuff that we can’t fit in quality time with God, we won’t have the close relationship with Him, that we’re busing fostering with everything else in this world.  Sometimes in our daily lives, we have to remind ourselves to take our foot (foots? ;) off the pedal and just slow down.

Love y'all,
~M~

Still Waters

I want to go back to DC.

When I moved here, I was ready to make California my home.  I would marry here, raise a family here, retire here.  I practiced my hair flip and fitting “like” into a sentence 12 times…I was Californian to the core.  People told me to give it five months before letting the homesick feelings freak me out.  They said it would take about that long to feel comfortable in a place, regardless of how much I want to be there.  So when the slower pace and slower lifestyle and the alarming resemblance to my hometown made me miss DC, I waited.  And waited.

…and waited.

I want to go back to DC.  I want to go back to DC as soon as possible.  During down times at work, I surf USAjobs for announcements I would qualify for and I peruse the internet for condos in Virginia, that are in my price range.  I was just starting to adjust, when I left DC.  I’d gotten plugged into an amazing church and I had a job that took me into Virginia everyday and reminded me of all the reasons why I first fell in love with the area.  Since leaving, I’ve struggling with the lingering question, “Did I leave DC too soon?”

The truth is…I don’t really know.  Maybe I did. Maybe there were great things God had planned for me to help Him with, in the Metro DC area.  But everything happens for a reason – a believer in an Almighty God, wouldn’t believe that something as random as chance brought me here.  Every aspect of moving to California fell into place too perfectly to deny that it was masterminded by Someone greater than me.  Moving to California has allowed me to catch my breath.  And it’s allowed me to leave the temptation of the lifestyle I’d begun living, behind me and rededicate my life to Christ.  Moving to California has been like a fresh start.  I left behind two years of sinking into the waves, because I’d taken my eyes off Christ.

I’ve been here for almost six months already and I feel refreshed, reinvigorated and raring to go.  I have to constantly (and I do mean constantly) remind myself that I need this time, I’m not strong enough yet and that my timing is not God’s timing.  I have to remember to let God do his work in my life and in my heart.  God has brought me to this place to rest in Him and I am too busy looking forward to getting back in the game to actually enjoy it!

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.  He makes me to lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside the still waters.  He restores my soul, He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.” ~Psalm 23: 1-3

I hope (daily, actually) that God will return me to the Metro DC area.  I believe I’ll be at my best and be of real use to Him there. In the meantime, though, I want to remember that God is making me lie down and restore my soul.  He’s led me to still waters…I don’t want Him to shake His head, chuckle and say, “I can lead a horse to water, but I can’t make her drink!” :]

Love y’all,

~M~

Cross-stitch Chaos

Sometimes in life, things happen and I’m just not sure why.

I shouldn’t have done it, but I called my mother today.  It had been a couple of weeks, and I just wanted to talk to my mom.  The conversation lasted exactly 7 minutes, 7 seconds.  That was just long enough for my mother to tell me that she and my aunt are leaving on Friday to come down to Palm Springs for a week (but not see me while they’re here - which is why i moved west in the first place, to be nearer to her).  She told me she hasn’t cashed the last four checks I’ve sent her (one a month) because she hasn’t gotten around to going to the bank.  She said she’s bringing her cell phone with her to Palm Springs so that she can call my Gramma every day (but won’t talk to me for months at a time).  What she didn’t mention is the trip to visit me in four weeks that she’s been talking about for months, but has taken zero action on.

I know my mother is sick, but it still hurts to not have a mom.  It hurts to suspect that she’s only there for me in emergencies, because she knows she’s not there any other time.  My mom can love me conditionally.  She can love me when I’m right there – practically under her – ready to be loved when she wants to give it.  But if I want to live my life…well, then, I’m out of sight out of mind.

My father hasn’t had a conversation with me since Father’s day, when he texted, just like last year.  Texting provides me the opportunity to wish him a happy Father’s Day and him the opportunity to make comments designed to make me feel guilty for his absentee-ism my entire life.  When I’m not getting text message guilt trips, I can rely on what I call “text spam” from him.  Forwarded images of glittery hearts, or corny jokes.  But never anything direct or of substance.

I, am an orphan.

I’ve been telling myself all day that there are reasons for this abandoned feeling I struggle with.  I know God intends to use this for His glory.  He planned everything about me and about my life.  He placed every freckle I have exactly where it’s at.  He made my hair curl and He put that “dimple” on my butt.  He made my father black and my mother white on purpose and he made me an only child for a reason.  I know all these things as fact.  But what I don’t know, is why He made my mother sick and my father absent so that I would be all alone.

Years ago, someone used a cross stitch design to illustrate to me our lives with Christ.  The front was a cute little design, with neat, tight stitches.  “This is what God sees when He looks at our lives.”  She’d said, “Every stitch in that exact place, for a reason.  One stitch alone seems unimportant, but together they make something beautiful.  Any one thing about our lives might seem random by itself, but it’s meant to come together for a reason.”  Then she turned over the little piece of fabric, to reveal the chaos of thread crisscrossing and knotted and overlapping, tangled together, making altogether no sense…“meanwhile, this is what we see.” She said and laughed.

I am mixed for a reason and I am an only child for a reason.  I have the job I do for a reason and I am here in California at this very moment for a reason…and I have the parents I do, for a reason.  There are parts of my life that definitely feel like the chaos of the reverse side of a cross stitch pattern.  I hope that someday, God will show me the design He’s making with me.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.  Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.  You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." ~Jeremiah 29:11-13

Love y’all,
~M~

Wordless Wednesday

Words to Remember

"Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—His good, pleasing and perfect will."  ~ Romans 12:2

"...I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father, except through me." ~John 14:6

"Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be men of courage; be strong. Do everything in love."  ~1 Corinthians 16: 13 & 14

"And without faith, it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to Him must believe that He exists and that He rewards those who earnestly seek Him." ~Hebrews 11:6

 

"My eyes are ever on the Lord, for only He will release my feet from the snare." ~Psalm 25:15

 

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control." ~Galations 5:22

 

“I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.” ~Philippians 4:23

 

“…Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” ~1 Samuel 16:7

Waiting is the Hardest Part: Part 1

When I was in my mid-twenties, I thought I’d endured my last wedding.  Wedding season seemed to be the years between high school and college graduations.  And as those years passed, I became more and more aware that this was a season I’d be spending on the bench.  It was difficult, because it’s something I want so much – to find the one whom my soul loves.  To belong to someone and conspire to face the rest of our lives, together, no matter what.

Years have passed since that time (ahem, not that many years, but still) and I have lived a full life despite this one desire not being fulfilled.  Now, in the last month, two of my good friends have gotten engaged and are in the middle of wedding planning.  One of them, dearest to my heart, even asked me to be in her wedding.  Leading up to her now fiancé popping the question, I’d secretly wondered how I would feel about the wedding in general and if, by chance, she would ask me to participate.  When the question came, I was honored – and happy to know that my love for my friend overshadowed any other feelings I might have had.  About a week later a friend in Texas called with exciting news; her boyfriend had proposed.  Wow, that’s so…great.

I felt like the parents of a new baby, who just started sleeping through the night, when someone slams a door or makes a loud noise.  The parents freeze and look at each other panicked, waiting…waiting…did we make it, or is she going to react?  Was I going to be happy and excited…or were the feelings from my 20’s when I was benched for the season, going to come back full force?  I was cautiously excited for her, guarding my feelings and my level of exposure to the whole situation, the entire time.

So now I’m helping my dear friend plan the wedding that I’ll be in – and I’m so excited to do it.  She’s a cherished friend and is supportive of my feelings on the entire topic.  Today, my Texas friend emailed me several times, with a website and plans for not just one, but two weddings, this year and next.  I want to be a good friend to her and support her in her exciting time, but I could also feel the panic feeling rising in my shoulders and my chest.  The baby was stirring.  Not fully awake, but restless…will she react?  Will she stay asleep?  Waiting…waiting…would I feel sorry for myself, since my Texas friend is there because I gave her my job?  Would I begin to yearn again for my own lobster (sorry, random “Friends” reference) and that special connection?  Or worse, would I begin to look behind me, or wonder if something is wrong with me?

I decided to read one of the daily email devotionals. The title was “The Waiting is the Hardest Part” and it discussed waiting on God’s perfect timing. Slowly, the baby began to settle down.

I don’t know why God has me still waiting on the sidelines, and then brings someone together with their lobster in record time. I have to trust it’s for a good reason, and I have to believe that like Abram and Sarai, the benefits of waiting and trusting in Him will be more then I could ever imagine. It’s hard, I won’t lie. And it’s a moment-to-moment decision. But I titled this blog “Part 1”, because I have to trust and believe that someday, God will bring me to my Part 2. And small things – like the perfect timing and subject of that devotional – help me believe that He will.

Love y’all,
~M~

Choose the Right

I hadn’t lived in my new studio an hour yet and the Mormons came knocking.  Maybe it was rude of me, but when I opened the door and saw who was standing on my new front stoop, I said simply, “No thanks!” and closed the door in their faces.  Then I hit the deck and listened for them to go away while Malachi licked my ear hole.

Mormonism is debatable in the Christian community.  Most of us question their salvation.  But one thing that I have always liked, is the “CTR” rings you can find many of them wearing.  CTR, Choose the Right.  It’s a nice reminder that I wish wasn’t necessarily a universal symbol of Mormonism.  Because really, that’s what we all should do, daily.  Choose the right.

I woke up this morning feeling frazzled and rushed. I left home ten minutes late and was calculating how many minutes late I would be if I went X many miles over the speed limit.  Wait – do I have my iPod?  Did I forget my phone??  I could feel another bad morning (if not day) starting.  Did I remember my socks, so that I can walk with Joanne at lunch?  I haven’t remembered those stupid socks for a week and here I am starting another one on the wrong foot…and I didn’t pack my gym clothes either did I?  I didn’t even bother to do the laundry so they’d be clean…how do I think I’m ever going to run a stupid half-marathon if I can’t even manage clean clothes?  I can’t get a work-out in regularly…wait, did I pack my badge?!  Oh forget it!  Why do I think I can change?  What am I thinking, that I can improve or that this coming year, with just me and God will be so great and so changing??   I’m not even keeping up on my reading for Community Bible Study! I’m just the same old screw up I’ve always been…

I really didn’t want to have another day feeling like a screw up loser.  So, in that moment, I just chose not to.  I told the enemy, the liar, to get behind me and I said, “God, help me.”  My badge was in my bag…and so were my socks, and my iPod and my cell phone.  I ate the breakfast I threw in my bag and after I walked with Joanne at lunch, I ate the leftovers I’d grabbed as well.  When I came home after work, I put a load of clothes in to wash and when Malachi goes in his crate for “bedtime”, I’ll head back to the base and hit the gym.

The enemy likes to get to me – he likes to remind me of my insecurities – he sits on my shoulder, whispering in my ear all of my shortcomings and failures. It’s hard to resist him all the time, sometimes I don’t recognize his voice at first…and then other times, I just get weak and listen to him.  Sometimes when I listen, I start to agree.  And maybe, some of what he says is true.  I mean, I am a filthy sinner at heart...

But accepting Christ’s salvation, makes me a child of God – a child of light. And there is no room for that dark discouraged place in the light.  The Holy Spirit is in me, standing by to tell me when to recognize that voice as the enemy.  The Holy Spirit will tell me when I need to do my laundry and pack my bag for the next day – and when I need to hit the gym.  And Christ is ready to give me the strength to do these things and more.  All I have to do, is make the right choice.  I can choose to do the same things I’ve always done and live an “ok” life…or I can choose to listen and choose take action and see where my life will go.  All I have to do, is choose the right.

Love y'all,
~M~

Hope in the Form of a New Tattoo

Friday evening was Round 2 on the white tatt. I’ve been preparing myself for the possibility of a third session (and not just because I like threes, lol), but Sabin said more of the white ink took then he expected, which is good. I seem to have good tattoo mojo – when I had one removed years ago, the technician said more of the ink dissolved away then she’d expected after the first session. So I guess among other things, I respond well to ink…coming or going.

Anyway, now, while I nurse my left wrist and ignore the subtle itch from my skin tightening into a scab, I wonder if my mindset is any different from when I first got this tattoo. I wouldn’t go as far as to say that I’m 100% over the more painful reasons why I got it…but I can say I don’t feel the need to communicate those reasons before the more positive reasons.

In addition to any afore mentioned reasons, I decided to place “Love…” on my left wrist, because on that wrist, it would point out, toward my hand. Toward action. I asked Sabin to put it more on the top part of my wrist, rather than right in the middle or towards the lower part of my wrist. I wanted the dot, dot, dot to point to my thumb. Expectantly - dot, dot, dot – more to come. I didn’t want the idea to allude to my hand or my palm, because it’s really all about the thumb. It’s the thumb that’s opposable. The thumb that is the maker of things happening, so to speak.

Around the same time I was combating my emotions to the negative, God was revealing to me that love is action. "Faith without works is dead." When I moved to California, almost immediately I started looking for volunteer opportunities. But my reasons where more…self serving then I cared to acknowledge. Nothing much came from my efforts, because I wasn’t making it for the right reasons, or with the right focus. While I was feeling abandoned, unloved, alone (insert sorrowful descriptor here ;), He was whispering to me “If you love me, you will love others.” God was telling me to love because I love Him and I struggled with that. I struggled, because I didn’t know how. I know how to love on people I know (a-hem, read: people I like), but I don't know how to love on people I don’t know (or like). I don’t know what I’m good at, or what I have to offer people. But I promised to look for opportunities…I would have to put my love for Christ into action. Because, if I may quote the illustrious DC Talk, love…is a verb.

This morning, Pastor Aaron shared about one of our church’s holiday ministries, called Christmas for Kids (yeah, yeah, so we haven’t mastered creative titling, yet!). Christmas for Kids is a holiday program our church started for area families who (for various reasons) would otherwise not qualify for community aide programs during the holiday season. Element (that’s my church, btw), invites these families – usually single moms and their kids – to the church for a social time…and shopping trips. Wait, what?? I’m sorry, did you say…shopping? Yeah – volunteers decorate the church, they cook meals to share at the church and they take the children and sometimes the moms shopping. Wait, see, there it is again. I just need to be clear on this. So, what you’re saying is, you have an actual ministry, for shopping?? Wow. Ok, yeah. So, uuuh…can I sign up twice for that, or how’s that work, exactly…? Because I am all over this ministry. For reals. :-D It’s a short term ministry, only for the holiday season. But it’s also exactly up my alley – and completely within my spiritual giftings (lol).

The feelings that came with the initial “Love…” tattoo are slowly healing. Eventually, those scabs will flake away revealing what’s beneath. With this recent touch up, I believe that what’s there, will be something more like Christ.

Love y'all!

~M~

Who’s the Man?!

Well, around these parts, “the man” is me! :-D I have just completed my third – yes, folks, my magic three – independent task!

First was my battle with Comcast cable. Getting my cable television connected should come with the subtitle: Constant Reminder that You are Alone. Because that’s what I was. I was alone the whole eight hours I took off from work to wait for the cable guy who never showed. I was alone, when I called customer service no fewer than eight times. I was alone when I was routed and transferred to every state in the union except California. And I was alone when I was cussing and screaming because I knew “my call may be recorded for training or quality assurance purposes.” And I was still alone just three days later when my snazzy new hi def cable went ka-put. It was while I was on hold for 45 minutes with what ultimately turned out to be the customer service department in Washington DC when I literally cried out to God, “I hate this, Lord! I hate that I’m so alone – why do you make me do this alone when you know I can’t handle it?!”

How come I have to say silly things earnestly and out loud before God will answer me…? Because it wasn’t one second after those words were out of my mouth that God said simply, “I’m here.” Huh? Oh, right. You. Creator of the Universe. No offense, but, um…aren’t you busy with something more important? “Nope. I’m right here.” Huh, ok. A few minutes later I was transferred (again) and three clicks on my remote later, cable was restored.

So Thursday, when my new coffee table was delivered in several pieces, rather than brain storm people I could beg to come help me put it together, I decided that between the two of us, I could get the table together myself. And, with only a couple of tense moments, I did.

Today I bought a floating shelf. I’ve always liked them, but never got one before because they seemed like a hassle to mount. Studio living encourages making the best use of all areas (even walls), so tonight I tore open the packaging and…great, molly bolts. Seriously?! Deep breath. Ok, we can do this…right? Well, apparently not – one molly in, and I’d already run into issues. God, hello?! What happened to ‘I’m here’?! “I’m here.” Then why aren’t you helping me?? “Because you didn’t ask.”

The molly that I screwed up is still screwed in crooked, but the one that I did with God’s help is perfect. And that’s the screw holding the lion’s share of the weight for my little shelf, hanging off the wall. I like it that way. When I look at it, it reminds me that I have several choices in my life. Recorded proof in multiple customer service departments, nation-wide, that I am a psychopathic b*tch would be the result of choosing to do things alone. Sturdy accomplishments, that I struggled a bit to complete and need to remember to give God full credit for are the results of trusting God tentatively. I can choose to give my efforts to God to complete/repair/resolve part way through…or I can live a life given fully to God from the beginning. Naturally I want to choose the last one!

My little floating shelf is my pseudo nightstand. Maybe waking up to it every morning will remind me of the choice I want to make every day. And hopefully it will remind me that the answer to the question, “Who’s the man?!” is, and always will be….God.

Love y'all,
~M~

Finding My Voice

I got an email from a reader today! So, yeah, if it wasn’t you - then it must be the other one, lol…

My reader asked if I plan to talk more on God’s grace in my life. Good idea, I replied, the trouble is, I don’t know how. How do I articulate the vastness of God or the greatness of his mercy…His kindness…His patience (especially with me)? It’s not the first time I’ve been encouraged to write more on my beliefs and my relationship with God, so it stuck with me and I thought about it all day.  I decided that just because I don't have the answer yet, doesn't mean I can't step out in faith.  It doesn't mean that I can't try...

At work last week, I was standing at the front desk when a little girl, maybe two years old, appeared in the doorway. She was all smiles, dressed in pink, with a brown stuffed monkey strapped to her back. Leading away from the monkey and out of the frame of the doorway, was a narrow brown…leash. Robbin (our receptionist) and I cooed and helloed at the little girl until the leash swayed a little and a woman’s voice said, “C’mon honey, catch up…”

Friday my landlord, Dayna, texted me. She was at my place with a handyman and wanted to know if she could take Malachi out of his crate. Of course, please do, he loves making new friends! I told her if they go outside, he needs his leash, because when he’s excited, he can forget what “Come” means. Later in the afternoon, Dayna texted to report on his performance. “He’s so cute” she said, “and strong for his size! Who would’ve thought he could pull so hard on the leash? I thought my arm was going to come off!”

If I’m going to write in truth, about my Christian walk and about God’s grace, mercy, patience, kindness, then I feel obligated to reveal, that I need a spiritual leash.

So often, I can be like that little girl…and even more often, like my dog. When God wants me to do something – let’s say, give up something I am passionate about – I’ll linger, looking at it, making nice with it, reluctant to move on to whatever is next. God will give my leash a little tug and then sometimes a bigger tug and eventually, like the little girl, I’ll (reluctantly) move on. Other times, God will open a door and, like my Malachi, I’m off like a shot - ready to experience everything about the opportunity, even before I’m clear on what we’re actually doing, exactly. But I’m ready. Ready, willing and able – and I’m off:

“Keep up, God ok? C’mon, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!! You’re falling behind God, but I can’t slow down for you, because I’m doing your work here…c’mon Lord, I can hardly see you now, wouldja catch up, already?? Let’s goooo!” and then, without warning, I’m jerked back to the feet of God, cartoon style. The same way Malachi eventually returns to my ankles, when choking himself half to death just to get a half inch closer to whatever is ahead, has lost its appeal.

When he returns, I chuckle and say, “Good boy, Mal, you’re a good boy.” Surely when that little girl catches up to the owner of the voice & holder of the leash, there is positive reinforcement there. And when I return to God, to lead me on, I believe He is pleased as well.

So, readers (and yes, I’m speaking to both of you now ;), stay with me and my new little blog. Because I’m still finding my voice.

Love y’all,
~M~

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Love y'all,
~M~