Devotion #3- Community

"They devoted themselves to the apostles teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer." Acts 2:42

 

My church has something called LifeGroups. LifeGroups are small groups that meet in homes during the week to discuss different Biblical topics. My particular group meets to discuss our read through the Bible in a year plan. I'm in the only "kid friendly" LifeGroup and this year there has been a surge in attendance. All together we have twenty-four attending with twelve kids, six of whom who are three or younger. Add in the fact that we also share dinner together and the scene starts to look more like a crazy extended family visiting during the holidays than a weekly Bible study discussion group.

 

This past week we were trying to discuss Ezekiel and Amos which makes for a somewhat deep discussion, when the commotion from the little ones was just too much for us to continue. Typically the older ones are able to play together in an adjoining playroom with the babies crawling or toddling around entertaining themselves with a collection of toys piled in the middle of the floor with the adults looking on. This particular night though someone was chasing someone who didn't want to be chased, someone kept crawling into a not- so- safe dark area behind the sofa, pacifiers and sippies were being stolen left and right, and hair was being pulled. Crying and yelling continued despite one of the adults trying to corral the kids into the other room.

We couldn't even hear one another across the room trying to talk about our readings for the week. Before we gave up entirely though we began to reminisce, loudly I might add, about how far we had come as a group. We talked about how we had continued meeting despite tons of collective life changes like career changes and babies being born. At times continuing to meet had become a sacrifice. It would have been easier to have given up and to have quit a long time ago allowing our busy lives to take over. In spite of all that we have made this time a priority, and we have continued to build our relationships with one another through the years.

 Authentic community the way that God intended is only reached through a commitment to one another which includes sacrifice. We have to sacrifice in order for the blessings to freely flow. I have to admit that there have been times over the years when I have wondered if it was really worth it. Times when the events of the day steal all my energy and I don't think I have anything left to give,  times when the kids are running crazy excited to see one another, and more recently times when it is difficult to complete the reading plan for the week. Those minor inconveniences are soon chased away by the realization that this is what true community looks like, everyone coming together to do life together with all of that mess and realness with the Lord as the center of it all.

Devotion #1- Plunge

I recently agreed to do a devotion of sorts for my MOPS group. The following is the first installment for our new season of MOPS. I hope you find it uplifting and inspiring!

1 Peter 4:8-10 "Above all keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins. Show hospitality to one another without grumbling. As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God's varied grace."

 

I'm going to be honest here and admit that I struggle with hospitality.  To me it represents the core of what a woman should be and I just don't have that gift. Effortless entertaining is just not my thing despite the fact that my mom was really good at it.  Sadly,  the gene just didn't get transferred. I'm the person who thinks I have all the ingredients for the recipe and then somehow at the last minute realize that I am one ingredient short or I'm cooking something I have cooked numerous times before only to get confused at the last minute and skip a step rendering the recipe a failure. I blame part of my problem on my refusal in elementary school to memorize  the cooking measurements.  Who knew those pesky little conversions would be so important later on?

Regardless of my failings in math, God has been working in my heart in the area of hospitality. Specifically, He has been convicting me in the area of loving my neighbors. I struggled with this when I realized that I didn't even know them. This fact is somewhat justified by the neighborhood in which we live. Everyone lives on at least three acres that are primarily wooded. I literally have not seen my next door neighbor in five years. I recently found out one of the houses on my street sat empty for two years and I didn't even notice. All that changed the day that my then two year old locked me out of the house while I was bringing in groceries forcing me to have to meet the neighbor across the street so that I could ask to use their phone.

Needless to say,  a special friendship with that neighbor was quickly formed and we discussed the need to get to know our other neighbors.  After finding out she was a party planner, it was quickly decided that we needed to have a block party for the neighbors on our street.   With her making a living out of hospitality,  I knew she would be able to teach this severely lacking student a thing or two.  Being an English teacher in my previous life, I wrote up the invitations and she had them printed using her connections as a party planner. A week later we handed out the invitations together by going door to door.  I  coordinated the food being brought and she did the running around buying the paper goods and other supplies. It ended up being a  partnership that only God could have orchestrated. 

That afternoon after the block party ended,  I remember going home with a huge smile filling my face.  My spirit was full from connecting with others. My belly was full from good food shared. My hands were full of food that neighbors had insisted I take in return for planning the block party for them. My heart was full from all the thank you's and kind words I unexpectedly received.  I was so thankful that I listened to God's voice and more importantly that I was obedient in allowing myself to be used as an instrument of hospitality which for me represented taking a scary plunge into the unknown. A  verse about Jesus coming to give life to the fullest ran across my mind as I reluctantly walked home and maybe in a small way, this is exactly what He meant.

Right Now

I have to apologize for my spotty writing lately. I really thought things would slow down a little with my oldest starting preschool and going every morning. That hasn't been the case though. I suppose trips to the doctor and dentist had been put off during the summer months and all that is catching up now it seems. I have also felt very convicted to focus more on my physical health lately so I have been setting aside more time to exercise which of course is a positive change but one that takes up more of my writing time these days. I also began Community Bible Study and feel like God is working on me in ways that I can't yet even express yet. Too close to my heart I suppose. I recently finished the book (devoured whole would probably be a better description) the book 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess  by Jen Hatmaker which really rocked my thinking and caused me to question so many areas of my life.  All that is to say that I feel God is calling me to give up everything to focus on Him and His word right now. It is a calling to get lost in Him and His word. I am taking "Seek Ye First" literally and making it my number one priority. Every day. So some things are on hold right now as I trust Him exclusively in a way I never have before. Some days He may be calling me to write and other days He may be calling me in a different direction. As I start this new journey with Him I am excited at what He will be doing and I plan to share it with you. May you receive blessings on this day of your journey!

Mommy's Are Good Like That

I am the type of person who always has tons of projects  going on at once. I blame my mom for this but at the same time I secretly like it.  For one thing, I am never bored. Most of my projects are in neat piles in my craft room lined up on this extra table I bought to have room to actually do my projects on but that is another story. I even had my husband put up a wipe board for me so that I can list all my projects and easily see what I want to get done in order for me to use spare moments as I have them.

Typically, I get to most of my projects even though it might take a while. For instance, I got really excited last spring when I saw this pattern at JoAnn’s for an “easy” pillowcase dress. I picked out really cute fabric and thought I could get it done before the baby was to born last summer. Yeah right.  A year later I am still staring at the fabric and the pattern. A few weeks ago, I decided that the time was right to finally make it. I got everything out and began reading and the farthest I got was to cut out the actual pattern. I need to mention that I have difficulty spatially. I hated Geometry in school. I love the actually process of sewing, but patterns confuse the heck out of me. The irony here is that I inherited all of my mom’s sewing paraphernalia so if you were to walk into my craft space you would think that I am a seamstress and really knew what I was doing. I never even took Home Ec. as my middle school pushed academics over electives and students were encouraged to take an extra social studies or a foreign language instead. I did finally take a sewing class as an adult, but it was years ago and sadly, I am one of those people who easily forgets skills if I’m not using them.

I think part of the problem was I was actually scared to start, to make a mistake. I just couldn’t begin. I came up with a way out though, or so I thought. I have a friend who goes to my Mothers of Preschoolers (MOPS) group, Olivia, who sews and actually used to sew as a side business. She made my nursing cover up and I loved it.  I would tell new moms about her all the time and brag on what great cover ups she made. I sent her an email asking her how much she would charge to make my dress that way I could get it off of my crafting “to-do” list once and for all. She quickly responded that she wanted to make one for her daughter too but had been too busy to make one.  She asked me if I wanted to come over for a “sewing playdate”.  I have to admit I was really skeptical that this would work. I could just envision all of our kids going nuts and my baby crawling around and getting into her things and destroying her house like she does mine. Not to mention the fact that I am one of those nerdy people who needs quiet to concentrate and you put four kids together and quiet just doesn’t happen unless they are getting into something and don’t want you to know about it and then things get really bad. But I was desperate to get this dress made. So I took a risk and said yes.

We got together a few days later and the whole experience was amazing from start to finish. First of all Olivia’s house just oozes this great vibe of creativity and a “go with the flow” attitude.  It just felt good to be there. It instantly made me wonder if my home feels as welcoming and inviting to others. Then the kids simply got along really well. There was little fighting and they never got crazy together which is just short of amazing. They remembered each other from being at MOPS together which did help of course. Even Lillian my baby did well despite being in a strange environment not completely “baby proofed”.  So we started our sewing adventure around 10am and by 2pm I had a completed dress.  Olivia was the best teacher and between the two of us, we were able to help out the kids when they needed things. No one argued or got mad the entire time which amazing for that amount of time and the fact that we were all pushing things way past nap time.  

So, sometimes it is worth taking a risk especially when it comes to women helping other women. I was able to get a dress made, develop a friendship, and help my children develop their own special friendships. It was all so worth it. The funny thing is Riley was so excited that I was making this dress for her and has she worn it even once yet? A big, fat no. But I outsmarted her. I made the dress a size bigger so she can still wear it next year and then after that Lillian can wear it too. Mommy’s are good like that.

 

 

Mommy Validation

I finally resolved a couple of mommy issues that have been hanging over me for a while now. It feels so good to put a check in those boxes. They involve solving drinking cup dilemmas for both of the girls.  It may sound silly, but they have really been bugging me. My baby Lillian just turned a year and she has a tendency to sling her cup everywhere while she eats. I partially resolved the issue by attaching a tether cord to her current sippy cup which also attaches to her highchair. I thought that was all I needed to do but since most baby sippy cups have soft spouts that can easily drip out liquids when they are completely upside down, my wood floor was becoming a disaster. Did I mention that I have also been very stubborn about putting any kind of mat on the floor to catch the spillage? I just want my kitchen to look as normal as possible. We have gotten rid of most of the baby gear and I am so itchy for my old house back it almost hurts. The ironic thing is that one day I know I will miss all the baby gear and the messes but we won’t go there now because at this current moment in time I want neat and clean. Frankly, I crave it as it is in my genes. Ask anyone in my family. It  just can’t  be helped.

So I put out the word to my Mommy friends that I needed to find a baby sippy cup that does not leak even when hanging upside down off of a highchair and it must be AWESOME. They delivered with answers and the funny thing is most of them agreed on the Playtex line of sippy cups. I must say that Playtex has a very informative website complete with a search feature that will customize what you need based on the age of your child. Due to Lillian’s age I tried the Playtex Lil Gripper Spout Cup. I admit the first day she was a little annoyed by it as it is more difficult to suck from I’m sure. I had my four year old use the extra one though so Lillian had an example of how to do it and that seemed to help. After a few days there were no issues. Problem solved!

The second drinking cup dilemma involved my four year old Riley. She has been drinking out of sippy cups primarily. She can drink out of regular cups, but I admit I am lazy in this department and I don’t want to think about the possibility of spills during dinner or snack times. I just don’t want to deal with it. I have enough to deal with as it is and this is one way to simplify things for my sanity. Anyway, when I have bought her the more expensive cups with straws she chews the straws up. A more apt description would be to say that she actually shreds them. They become unusable and I am tired of paying something like $4 a piece for a cup that won’t last long because she can’t control her need to bite them and destroy them like she is some sort of wild animal.  Can you tell I’m a little aggravated?

While researching the baby sippy cups one of my Mommy friends had mentioned those cheap “Take and Toss” cups that come with straws. She had told me that her kids had transitioned to them easily and the best part is that they are easy to clean and if you lose the straws for them you can use the basic store bought kind that come in large packs. Honestly, she had me at five cups in a pack for around $3.  Plus they are super colorful and that really makes a difference when I am cleaning them.  Anything bright and cheery makes me happier all the way around. So we tried them out and they are working out great! It looks so much better to see Riley drinking from a straw rather than a sippy cup. I had been feeling like I was holding her back developmentally and so the guilt had been piling up. She has been much happier as well. We made a big deal out of the fact that drinking from a straw is what big girls do. Would you believe that she is already chewing on these straws too? But no worries this time as I am well stocked with the regular straws that can easily be bought from the store. So onto the next Mommy challenge. There are so many.

Biscuits and Gravy

It is hard to believe that my mom died sixteen years ago this month. One of my life goals is to write about her and try somehow to capture her essence. I plan someday to write a memoir all about her. She was a remarkable woman, complicated and magical all in the same moment. She died of cancer and fought to the end. Everybody loved her. Even when she was difficult, which was often, she was still loved. She had a quality that made her unlike anyone else. It was more than charisma and it is something that I find myself often trying to figure out in quiet moments. She had a gift for "telling things as they are" and strangely, people couldn't get enough of it. Perhaps the southern accent softened the blow somehow. I remember even as a child witnessing it. I knew she could get away with things that us normal people just couldn't. I'm not going to lie, it was sometimes difficult growing up in her shadow. I often wondered why I wasn't more like her and thought there was something wrong with me and my sensitivity to things that seemed to not phase her in the slightest. I didn't subscribe to her philosphy of as she put it, "lob it off and set it adrift". I had to deal with things and those things hurt and hurt deeply, unable to simply be brushed aside. Even so, I love her and miss her.  I often find myself wanting to call her up and ask her how she dealt with different aspects of motherhood. I try to tell myself that her answers wouldn't satisfy anyway as she wasn't one to reflect on things. She simply reacted the best she could in the moment and never second guessed herself or looked back and wondered what would have been. At least that is what I imagine her answer would be in order to lessen the pain of not having the possiblity of that conversation.

So in her honor I offer this short piece knowing that it does not do her memory justice. It is only a small hint of her personality. It also honors two other amazing women in my family who have all gone home. I do have peace in knowing that mom has family with her right now as she sits at the feet of Jesus and that some day I will be there with her too. 

Biscuits and Gravy 

Hearing the ting, ting, ting of a fork hitting the inside of a glass bowl in the kitchen always takes me back to simpler days when someone I loved was making breakfast. The smell of biscuits in the morning all buttery and steamy, hot with their fluffy tops and crispy bottoms is like heaven itself on a plate. There is nothing like waking up to the popping and sizzling hiss of bacon and sausage. I can still smell the smoky, sweet haze in the kitchen air. That spicy brown sausage gravy made with the pan drippings would make me want to lick the bowl or at least lick the stray gravy that would somehow get on my fingers. I swear I would have taken a bath in that stuff if I could have.

How I long for the comforting sight of seeing Mom flour her laminate counter top and mix the biscuit ingredients: Crisco, salt, baking powder, buttermilk, and flour. Of course the flour had to be White Lily. Only, my mom would pronounce it in her thick, melodic Alabama accent. Even the packaging claims that it has been a “Southern tradition since 1883”. No matter what state we had moved to Mom would hunt down the local grocery store manager and insist they carry it for her and they always would. There was a rhythm and a pattern to the kneading that I can still picture in my mind, but my hands won’t imitate it. It’s like knowing a song so well you can hear it perfectly in your head, but being unable to utter a single note.  She would use an old four ounce tomato paste can as a biscuit cutter. I don’t know if she even owned an actual biscuit cutter. Maybe she thought that it would affect the thickness of her biscuits or maybe that was just simply the way that her mom had always made hers. Regardless, the perfectly rounded flat circles with the one exception from the leftover dough which Mom called the “ugly biscuit” would be placed on a cookie sheet and left to bake into the perfection that we would race to the table for each and every Saturday morning.  

 I have seen that gravy made a thousand times if I have seen it made once and always by the masters: Grandmother, Aunt Lynn, Aunt Kay, and of course Mom. I can’t make the gravy even though I know the steps and the ingredients. I don’t think many of us cousins can. I have heard rumor of my older cousin Randy doing it justice and his older brother Jay told us one Thanksgiving morning that he knew how. Immediately, he demonstrated his skills and some brave soul actually ate it, but gluey, tasteless gravy is a travesty to me and one that I will not participate in for fear of the wrath of God himself. After all, gravy is sacred in the south, right up there with Sunday dinner after church and seeing your Mama on Mother’s Day. 

Sounds corny but maybe the missing ingredient in my biscuits and gravy is love. That is always how I felt when I ate them. I was special enough for someone to get up early, take the extra time, and mess up the kitchen. How I long to wake up one morning and smell that country breakfast simmering just for me. This time I won’t tell Mom that I’m on a diet. And this time I won’t tell Grandmother that I need to watch my weight. And this time I won’t tell Aunt Lynn that the fat count is too high. I’ll just savor it all and in the end, use my leftover biscuit to “sop up” the rest of that fried egg with the yoke running all over my plate looking like the sunshine that it truly is.

               

In Need of a Savior

We have been dealing with some heavy stuff as a church family recently. This is a poem I wrote in response to that. I know that God has a plan even for the darkest events and I cling to that promise now. Hopefully, this will give you some encouragement for those dark times that we all go through in life.

My heart is heavy,

Mourning the loss of innocence.

The feel of death all around and closing in around me.

Wanting it to be a mistake,

Wanting to wake up to the world as it was yesterday,

Not today when the wailing is heavy in the air.

Evil invading when given the tiniest whisper of opportunity,

When darkness is sometimes easier then the light.

Too bright and glaring at times,

Too real-

The need of a Savior like never before.

Immunity impossible to this rampant sin plague.

Hunting us all down,

Infesting us all,

Impossible on our own to resist.

Blessed assurance Hope can be mine.

He alone can cleanse us through blood power,

When all other efforts are empty and meaningless.

Filthy like rags.

Hopeless.

He alone can save,

He alone can fill,

He alone can make whole,

He alone can satisfy.

In a world filled with everything else-

Empty promises.

Brokenness like an inescapable stench.

There is nothing else.

No one else.

Love alone cannot do it.

 His love is perfect.

Only His love has the power to set the wicked world right.

Everything in nature worships Him,

Points to His glory all the time.

Why can’t we?

Why is it so difficult to cry out?

To admit defeat?

To surrender?

Lord, help our unbelief!

We need you now!