Chewed Up and Spit Out.

As my baby gets older, she is trying more foods. Some are met positively, as she uses her tiny teeth to gobble it up. While others, she promptly spits out of her little mouth.

This morning was one of those times when she wasn't enjoying her meal. It made me think of this scripture in Revelation. 15 I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other!16 So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth.

When we take time to analyze our lives, it should be immediately clear who we serve and what we stand for. If not, we are in danger of suffering the same fate as my baby's breakfast.

I'm a Pot Roast

The past thirty days have been trying for me. I have cried a lot. I think I've sprouted many more gray hairs around my temples. My blood pressure is probably high. I've been overwhelmed with mounting laundry, last minute papers to write and sick kids. Not to mention the fact that there is too much month left at the end of our money.

I feel at times that I am in a crock-pot. God is baking me slowly, like a pot roast. If you've ever made a pot roast, then you know that cooking them too quickly creates a rubbery mass that is not edible. Ahhh, but if you allow them to roast slowly and soak up the juices, the result is a wonderful savory delight.

Please pray that I have the grace to stay in the pot long enough to produce a wonderfully usable end product. Pray also that I accept the "seasoning" He throws my way. I admit that I am weak right now. I'm in great need of strength, encouragement and a big dose of extra faith. I need to feel His strength in my weakness.

Image from laloosh.com

Flawless

While getting the kids ready for school the other day, I had the misfortune of watching parts of two different infomercials. One for some type of mineral makeup, and the following one was about some type of home airbrush system. What stood out to me was that both flaunted the ability to give you "flawless skin".

As I listened, that theme recurred over and over. Flawless skin, flawless skin, flawless skin... It played like a broken record in my mind. At first, it was somewhat appealing; making me want to call in a have a kit rushed to my house. But then, the sleep disappeared from my eyes, and I realized the absolute lunacy of it all. Why would I want the appearance of flawless skin?! I want to have flawless skin.

Appearance is only a lie. A fallacy. A fabrication. As Christians, we are so often concerned with appearances that we do not take time to examine the real truth. God looks beyond the outward appearance and into the truth within our hearts. So then, should we. We are not flawless. Only Christ is flawless. Trying to appear flawless simply sets us up for failure. We should strive to reflect Him and reveal truth, not cover up our flaws as they can provide true teachable moments.

Short, Slinky Spandex

How many of you find yourself comparing your appearance to others? I don't do this often, but I did it yesterday. What I'm sharing with you is deeply personal, so please handle it with kid gloves.

As you all know, I gave birth to our third child last year. Many people tell me that I look "great" or "you don't look like you've had three kids." I politely thank them and go on my way. While compliments are nice, they don't mean squat if you don't buy them.

Last night I attended my brother-in-law's wedding. So of course I was surrounded by young women with no husband and no children. Since Tre was in the wedding, I had the two younger children. The eldest was the flower girl, but became my charge after the ceremony. I did have some help from my sister-in-law and another one to be, but I they're lightweights! My kids wore us all out. They were tired and cranky, and I was almost to tears before it was all over. Anyway...

The waifs were everywhere. For the first real time, I felt like covering my gray hairs. I felt older and more tired and bigger than so many! It was a strange feeling for me, and I'm not sure why it hit when it did.

Perhaps it was the overly tight, overly short dresses were in huge supply. While I have never dressed like that, it was because of my morals, not because I couldn't pull it off. Now it's a little bit of both. Clothes cover a multitude of sins. Baby pouches are unglamorous, and when you hate crunches and love cheesecake as much as I, you may always have one! The other thing is that even though my scale tells me I am the same as I was before babies, the weight is distributed differently, and gravity is against me! I guess I can't be a convincing Catwoman this Halloween.

I guess it's a good thing I have a God that looks at me from the inside out and loves me anyway. If I decide to get serious about exercising, maybe I'll be the one in the short, slinky spandex at the next reception. Or maybe not.

Freedom Behind Bars

I had the privilege of being introduced to a very unique ministry yesterday. The Saints Prison Ministry takes the message of Jesus Christ to inmates across the US and Canada. Because sports are non-threatening and attractive, this is the method that they use. They have softball, volleyball, soccer and basketball teams that travel to prisons and play against prisoners. During the course of games, volunteers have an opportunity to share testimonies with those who are incarcerated.

Their belief is that we are all just one bad decision away from being locked up ourselves. They realize that, but for God's grace, we could all be in the same position. Many of us have committed the same crimes and not been caught. At the very least, we have thought of wrongdoing and simply not followed through.

I was humbled as I watched a video of the ministry in action. Many of the inmates look forward to the games are are thrilled to finally have someone that comes to see them. The Saints Prison Ministry gives them an opportunity to be free in spite of the bars surrounding them. If you would like to learn more about this awesome ministry or get involved, visit their website and see if this is a place where God could use you.

Momma Had Homework

I apologize for neglecting each of you. I promise you, you've been in my heart. I'm on a journey right now. Filled with misadventures and crazy memories. The journey I'm on is philosophical in nature. I'm a student again, and boy is it interesting. I'll let you on to a little secret: I was scared to death to go back to school. Even though I've had a career, my brain has spent much of the last ten years in mommy mode. When you see a professor who has been teaching for a long time and is used to students that use big words all the time, it can be a bit intimidating.

My first week was spent cramming 6 chapters and a paper into 48 hours. Much of that time was spent stressing and pulling out my hair. Sadly, much of it was also spent making my family wish the crazy lady was still at work! I was unable to get into my class for a couple of days, and by the time I did, I was already behind. After a small nervous breakdown, I sent up a hurried prayer and invoked the powers of my phone's Kindle app. Within seconds I had the first book Whispersynced and in my hands. So glad I'm not a technophobe right now.

Although my routine has changed drastically over the last month, I am so happy and thankful for the changes. I feel alive and relevant. I know that I am in God's perfect will. Even though the immediate future is uncertain, I'm enjoying this ride. Living each day, in the words of Jill Scott, "like it's golden".

Image by Brenda Starr

Listening for His Voice

This morning I wandered into the bathroom to get my day started. While in there I heard the cries of our precious baby. She's crawling now, so she has free reign of pretty much everywhere. She whined, and I cooed reassurances to her from beyond the door. As I spoke, I could hear her shuffling closer to the direction that my voice was coming from.

When I emerged from the door, her face lit up into a huge smile. She then proceeded to grab my pant leg and lift herself up to a standing position. When I hoisted her up onto my hip, all was right in her world. Tears ceased, and we were on our way.

At this age, it doesn't take much to make her happy. But as she grows older, I know the mere sound of my voice will not be enough to make everything better. As she grows in age, I pray that she grows in wisdom. I pray that just as she has complete faith in me right now, she will learn to place her faith in the One who made her. I pray that she will listen to and follow His voice.