tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31785509402170576142024-03-20T01:41:18.581-07:00This is the Lifeplanterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-27948361940191275482014-09-24T19:41:00.001-07:002014-09-24T19:41:49.527-07:00I'm SorrySo, I was reading Morning & Evening by Spurgeon tonight.<br />
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Ok, maybe I should explain that.<br />
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My husband has a penchant for dead guys. And by "dead guys" I mean old theologians. Comes with the territory of being reformed and a pastor I guess. He loves Spurgeon and Augustine ad Luther and Lloyd-Jones and M'cheyne. And if you know who half those guys are, kudos! And since he loves them so much, I get to love them too. Meaning of course, that he buys me beautifully bound copies of their works for my birthday. So I have a beautiful copy of Morning & Evening Daily Readings by C. H. Spurgeon that I use in my devotional time.<br />
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Turns out its quite convicting.<br />
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So, never one to be constrained by calendars or schedules (I'm a free spirit people, trapped in a mom's body who has to have routine or my kids will mutiny), I tend to fall "behind" sometimes (a lot). So, I was actually reading yesterday's "evening" reading this afternoon. And it was a doozy!<br />
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Spurgeon was elaborating on the man from Mark 9 who approaches Jesus to heal his demon-possessed son. He cries out in desperation "if you can do anything...help him." Incredulously, Jesus retorts, "'If I can'? All things are possible for one who believes!" And the father yells, "I believe, help my unbelief." This passage has had a special place in my heart since Sophomore English class when Dr. Weathers had us read <i>Shadow and Light</i>, in which was included an essay by Flannery O'Conner. She references this passage (wrongfully attributing it to Peter instead of the desperate father of the sick boy) and calls it the "foundation prayer of faith". That has been above all helpful to me as I have walked this path of faith in an age so ready to dump it all: That doubt is the starting place for true faith. That gave me permission to struggle with Jesus without letting go, clinging to him as Jacob until he blessed me and crippled me, which was itself the blessing.<br />
<br />Spurgeon had a similar message: that the "if" of the mans cry was at the wrong point. Not "if Jesus can" but "if we believe". Again, very encouraging. The <b>power</b> is not in question, but our<b> faith</b> in the power. Praise God! He doesn't waver or grow weary.<br />
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But again, not what really drug me to my knees in repentance tonight. Rather it as Spurgeon's description of the father:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The father, having seen the futility of the endeavors of the disciples to heal his child, had little or no faith in Christ, and therefore, when he was bidden to bring his son to Him, he said to Jesus, 'If Thou canst do anything...'"</blockquote>
That broke me: "the futility of the endeavors of the disciples". It is so often ME that causes those around me to have "little or no faith in Christ". I know that it is Jesus who calls, the Holy Spirit who convicts, the Father who chooses. I know I'm not THAT powerful to be the one and only source on whom any person's salvation depends. I'm not taking that on. But I am realizing that my fumbling, arrogant, blunders can put a roadblock in people's way to faith. I know they HAVE. I know I have made it harder for people to approach Jesus. I know I have at times made it easier to walk away. Those disciples were trying to serve, but they were doing it on their own power. I have been guilty of that time and time again. It has been the Jennifer show. All about me!<br />
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And for that I am so sorry.<br />
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I'm not apologizing for the Gospel. The truth of Jesus Christ is absolute and along with Paul I say, "I am not ashamed of the Gospel for it the power of salvation to everyone who believes" Romans 1:16.<br />
But I may have shared the Gospel in a way that was too tinged with my own broken humanity.<br />
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I'm not apologizing if I have pointed out sin, but I may owe you an apology for HOW I pointed out sin.<br />
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I'm not apologizing for going where God has called me, but I may owe you an apology for HOW I went.<br />
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I'm not apologizing for teaching the truth, but I may owe you an apology for tacking on my own opinion and distancing you.<br />
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I'm apologizing for not serving when you needed me, for not answering when you called, for not acknowledging your feelings and listening to your heart.<br />
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If you are one that I have made faith hard for; if my loud mouth has over stated my case or hurt your heart; if I have voiced my opinions instead of the Gospel when speaking over you; if my hurt feelings have caused me to lash out and wound you; if my mishandling of truth has made it more difficult for you to believe: I AM SORRY.<br />
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I invite you to contact me and allow me the grace to repent to you personally.<br />
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Please do not judge Jesus by His followers.<br />
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We need Him too!planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-84321860591501615262014-09-13T08:46:00.000-07:002014-09-13T08:46:10.364-07:00Coming HumbleMy kids each have their very own, very unique personalities.<br />
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Judah is my deep, systematic thinker who will grow up to be a preacher or theology prof. No pressure, that's just his bent. At 5 he asked me why if Jesus was God and knew everything, he still picked Judas to be his friend. Standard answer to Judah's queries: "Ask your Daddy!" </div>
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Gideon is very practical and all efficiency. He figured out a long time ago that the faster you do your schoolwork, the faster you get to play. And he's always angling for a better advantage. But he's also totally Eeyore. "Oh poor me...everyone is loved more than me". </div>
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Elijah is...well, to be frank, Elijah is our odd duck. But it's always an adventure.<br />
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Levi is perpetually happy. All. The. Time. Until you tell him no. Then he pokes out his bottom lip and flops down on his bum and wails. Which is just hysterical because as cute as he is it still doesn't get him his way.<br />
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And Josiah gets a pass because he's only 4 months old.<br />
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Nothing brings out their personalities more than school time and chores. School time shows who's willing to work hard and who's lazy, who's in it to win it and who's in it to get out of it. And school time shows my character and personality too...embarrassingly most of the time. My impatience, perfectionism, judgy-ness, fear of man...all revealed in the 3-4 hours a day I attempt to teach my children. And it gets all <i>Lord of the Flies</i> up in here sometimes. If you don't believe in total depravity, have kids. If that doesn't convince you, homeschool them. Then let's talk about sin nature...just saying.<br />
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But the other day I was totally convicted about not only my child's arrogance, but by relation my own during Bible time during school.<br />
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I read the boys the story of Jesus feeding the 5000. That's one of my favorites and one of only a handful found in all 4 Gospels. I like the John version because it has the little boy offering up his lunch. In the 3 other versions, the food just appears with no mention of where it came from, but John says a little boy offered it. After reading it, I ask the boys some questions to make sure they were awake and end with the classic: What did you learn about Jesus in this story?<br />
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Judah, ever the deep thinker, replies, "That Jesus will always provide for me and I don't need to worry." Now if he can just believe that for the rest of his life, he will have it made. Alas, I know he won't. But he gets it for this one second.<br />
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Elijah, eager to have a right answer pipes up, "That Jesus loves me." Thank you pastors kids. You get the award for "generic right answer" today.<br />
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Gideon, however, with exasperation declares, "Umm...I've heard this story a lot, so I've already learned everything I can learn about it a long time ago and didn't learn anything new today."<br />
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First, let's talk about "a long time ago" for a seven year old! Ha!<br />
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Secondly, we're going to have to work on arrogance and pride with this one! Yikes!<br />
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Thirdly, I was totally convicted because I often approach life and Christ with the same attitude. I mean, he gets it from his mom! I already know this one. Yawn! Throw me a curve ball! Instead of approaching the scriptures humbly, asking to be changed, I assume I've got it down. What a mistake. When I come humbly, even to a passage I've had memorized from birth (and that's a lot because I grew up Church of Christ and we memorized stuff), I am blown away.<br />
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My husband and I have talked a lot lately about standing above scripture or a book or a sermon and judging it, versus sitting under it. One takes on the attitude that you already know everything and are acting as the critic; the other comes as a humble learner to be broken, changed, transformed. Now, I'm not advocating blindly buying everything you read or hear. I believe we live in an odd age where anyone who has access to a computer can publish and put in writing whatever thought pops into their head. And as a pastors wife, we listen to hundreds of sermons. You have to have a filter. You have to be aware of wolves in sheeps clothing, or just simple, unintentional false statements. Don't buy it wholesale. But having a filter and being a critic are different. The pastors I like to listen to call it, "letting the Bible read you."<br />
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When we come letting the scripture or sermon read us, we are changed.<br />
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As I read the story of the feeding of the 5000, and believe me I've heard it a few more times than Gideon, I was struck by the little boy. He was the only one with food in a crowd of close to 15,000. His Momma had packed him a lunch. He could have eaten it. But instead he gave it away. To Jesus. He trusted Jesus enough to hand over his food. He didn't know what Jesus was going to do with it, but he seemed to know Jesus was good. Instead of hoarding his food, or only giving what he didn't want to eat, he gave it all. And because of that, he got it back AND everyone else got to eat, AND he got to be a part of Jesus' miracle of provision.<br />
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How many times do I, fearful there won't be enough for me, hoard the things I have instead of freely sharing, trusting Jesus to provide not only for others, but for me as well? I think if I give away my time, I won't have any time for me. But Jesus multiplied the boys lunch to the little boy as well. He got to eat his fill too. He didn't get less because he trusted Jesus, he got much more. And Jesus didn't demand his lunch. But he offered him an opportunity to participate in what Jesus was about to do! Being there in the moment of a miracle, knowing you didn't perform it, but you got a front row seat to see it...that's a blessing I don't want to miss. Not by being stingy and not by being "above the lesson".<br />
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Please be present.<br />
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Be present when you read.<br />
Be present when you hear.<br />
Be present to give what Jesus asks you to give so that you can get more than you could ever ask or imagine. </div>
planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-83597594640344314632014-08-30T12:38:00.001-07:002014-08-30T12:38:51.992-07:00Pet SinsOkay, truth or dare: What's your favorite sin?<br />
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I don't mean the one you struggle with, the monkey on your back you're ashamed to even admit is there because you want rid of it so badly. That's not a pet. That's a curse.<br />
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No I mean the one you don't want rid of at all! The one you aren't one foot into, but both feet jumping in. The one that while you may acknowledge it's a sin in <i>theory</i> the command to stop can't really apply to <i>you</i>, you enjoy it too much!<br />
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I think we assume gossip is it for most women. The scene from <i>Steel Magnolias</i> comes to mind (excuse me while my Southern is showing again), where Olympia Dukakis says, "If you don't have anything nice to say, come sit by me!" Exactly! Give me the dirt!<br />
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For men, maybe the love of money and all the evil that springs from that root. Chasing the dollar-god, making a name. Making a living. Getting a head. That sort of thing. Go big or go home!<br />
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Maybe it's pride. You're just the smartest person you know and you're surrounded by idiots.<br />
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Maybe it's selfishness. It's just all about you.<br />
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Maybe it's____________. You fill in the blank.<br />
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Whatever it is, it feels good when you do it. It feels right. And that niggle of Holy Spirit that tells you "Hey, it's YOU He's talking about" on Sunday mornings when the preacher preaches on that, is easily shut up by a loud round of justification.<br />
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You all need to REPENT! ;)<br />
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Well, in the spirit of being honest, I'll tell you mine: reviling. Or to be specific: reviling in return<br />
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What the heck is reviling? Well, Mr. Webster says it's:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15.600000381469727px;"><span style="color: cyan; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>to criticize in an abusive or angrily insulting manner.</b></span></span></blockquote>
Yikes. That's pretty bad right?<br />
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I mean, I could gloss it over by saying "I have a temper" and there's no denying that. My Irish background and red-hair would let you in on that tidbit if you've known me for 2 seconds. But it goes beyond a simple "losing my cool". And it's not gossiping either. I like to be nosy like everyone else, but that's not my Achilles heel. No. What really gets my Irish up and makes me let loose in the most satisfactory ways, is when people start talking badly about me or mine. I just want to give it back to them in spades! And not only that, but it feels good when I do. I don't want to give that up.<br />
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And let's tell the truth and shame the devil, Facebook is either my best friend or my worst enemy. The reviling that goes on in the name of "personal status" sharing would make your head spin.<br />
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Or maybe not.<br />
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Maybe Facebook is your favorite soapbox. Maybe you like to get on there and wave your opinion around like a mace bashing people in the face with it. It's not like you're actually telling it to their faces! I mean come on! And there-in lies the problem. People say stuff on Facebook they would NEVER say to your face. But while I'm not very prone to share my opinion (we have a Facebook policy in my house: Facebook is for sharing your life not your opinion----because after all, no one has ever been converted to your way of thinking by your witty Facebook status), I'm VERY prone to wanting to respond to other people's Facebook statuses. Boy do I! Especially when it's something inflammatory, insulting and (most importantly) wrong!<br />
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The problem is 1 Peter 2:23<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span class="selected" original-title="" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: Georgia, Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 22.464000701904297px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-indent: 25.920001983642578px; vertical-align: baseline;">When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, </span><span class="" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: Georgia, Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 22.464000701904297px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-indent: 25.920001983642578px; vertical-align: baseline;">but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly.</span></b></blockquote>
That one gets me EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.<br />
Jesus wouldn't respond. Not with anger. To all the business that gets said about Him on Facebook. He wouldn't "revile in return" those who have said nasty things about Him and His followers.<br />
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And that means I can't either.<br />
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I'm simply not under the same standard of judgment as the average person on social media. I do not simply post for Jennifer Hartnagle. Everything I post comes back on Jesus Christ, whom I claim to follow. <br />
And while that's never going to be easy, the last part of the verse offers some comfort. I trust God who judges justly. It will all come out in the wash (oops, there's my Southern again).<br />
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Does that mean I can't get mad at people's blatant abuse of me in particular, Christians in general or Jesus personally? Of course not. Anger is a very natural emotion when you've been insulted. But how we handle that emotion will tell you exactly how much you trust Jesus to take care of it.<br />
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And I admit, I don't have it all worked out what the right response is to "friends" who say derogatory things about you in a passive aggressive way on Facebook OR think they aren't directing them at you when it's obvious you're in that category. One shouldn't be allowed to be a bully on Facebook and not have consequences.<br />
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But I do have some advice to those claiming the name of Christ:<br />
1. Please watch what you say. People are reading that business. You actually want them too or you wouldn't post them. Blanket statements about this group or that group are never going to go over well, unless you live in a vacuum with only people who agree with you.<br />
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2. Don't engage the war. As a Christian, don't return insult for insult. Or passive aggressive Facebook message for passive aggressive Facebook message (in this example). Jesus actually does not need me or you to defend Him. As crazy as that may sound, He's the King of the Universe, and doesn't need puny me fighting his battles for him on Facebook. This just in: in the big scheme of eternity Facebook is not that powerful, and He promises we will give an account for every word we type (well, technically, in the Greek, I believe it's "Speak" but that's relative right?).<br />
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3. There's a BIG difference between sharing what you're for and bashing what you're against. You can share posts, blogs, and articles all day regarding things that you are passionate about without getting much backlash. But when you start sharing things that degrade or insult or offer loud opinions why the opposite view is wrong/bad/failing/ridiculous, you will get a response REALLY quickly. For example, "I love dogs more than cats" may get a few likes. But "All cat lovers are ridiculous needy people who need therapy" will get you 357 responses from all your cat-loving friends and even those who don't like cats but have a mom/sister/grandma/best-friend/uncle who owns 5 and is their favorite person in the world. So be "pro" what ever you want, but be careful with your "antis". Savvy?<br />
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So I urge you, and mostly me, to put the gloves down. If we are to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us, it cannot be hypothetically. It has to be for real-sies. In real time. Right now. Even on Facebook?<br />
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Cause people, what would Jesus do? (probably not have a Facebook account...ouch)<br />
<span class="" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #363030; font-family: Georgia, Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 17px; line-height: 22.464000701904297px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-indent: 25.920001983642578px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span>planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-43435072631343990432014-08-27T13:06:00.001-07:002014-08-27T13:06:13.825-07:00Radio Silence LiftedI started this blog years ago in order to chronicle our journey through the vast expanse of church planting. And have manged to successfully post, on average, one blog post a year. Just a shout out to let you know we're still alive. Whether that's terrible testimony or accurate portrayal, I will leave up to your judgment. I will say, there have been long stretches of such great chaos, that even if I'd found the time to write, I wouldn't have know what to say. And other stretches of such monotonous trudging that I also would not have known what to say. So, here I am striking out again in an attempt to show a real picture of the process of birthing a church. <div><br></div><div>Our fifth (and please dear Jesus) last child was born 16 weeks ago. By golly, if we can't grow this church one way, we will grow it another! Another boy. Of course. Cause that's all we know how to make. And he's precious and beautiful.</div><div><br></div><div> I was struck again by the beauty of the picture of pregnancy and labor being the illustration of creation waiting for the children of God to be revealed. And I still believe it's a better term for starting a church then "planting". What we are doing is not so simple as putting a seed in the ground and praying for rain. Though I don't fault Paul for his analogy of farming. He's a dude. What does he know about growing a baby? </div><div><br></div><div>But that's the exact way church planting feels. We conceived this idea, through no real skill on our part. The Holy Spirit quickened it and it began to grow. There were months of nausea and restlessness as we realized there was no going back, but also nothing to show yet. There was a fun season of beginning to really plan and excitement building. Then a seemingly endless season of sleepless nights, discomfort and increasing pressure to produce. Finally, through less than lady-like effort, we began life as a church and started meeting. And there was beauty and joy in that initial plunge. The first awkward weeks of gathering on Sunday, not quite sure what to do but just really happy to be doing it! </div><div><br></div><div>However, as with real children, the newness, baby-moon feeling wears off and you enter an interesting time of constant vigilance, dedication, and urgent care. Nighttime feedings and diapers changes have their place in the analogy as we had plenty of late nights nursing this infant church along and plenty of what can only politely be described as cow dung issues to clean up. And just so much of it required direct and intense care from us as it's "parents". So much more work than you really think it should take. And right in the middle of life happening all around us. </div><div><br></div><div>Now our baby church is 15 months old and that's about accurate for our analogy as well. Taking its first few wobbly steps without our carrying it. It's forming a new identity, not entirely dependent upon us, not wholly derivative of us. It's been fascinating and painful, rough but threaded with joy. I am immensely grateful for this honor of seeing Redemption church of Temple being revealed. And I know it really has nothing to do with me. This, after all, is not my church. This is Jesus' church. As head shepherd and Sovereign King, he is raising his church up. And it is beautiful! </div>planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-27453496041931632782012-05-13T15:39:00.002-07:002012-05-13T15:39:37.875-07:00Happy Mother's DayMother's Day has had mixed emotions for me for a long time. See, my mother left us on my 16th birthday. Yes, you read that right. ON my BIRTHDAY! And while we maintained the semblance of a relationship for the next 13 years, it was never what you might call healthy. My mother, along with other fun aspects of her personality, has the propensity of emotional abuse. It is the language that she speaks. She cannot help it. And while I am old enough now to realize that she must have suffered a great hurt at a young age to be so toxic herself, her abuse of my brother and I scarred us deeply. The end of that story is that 2 1/2 years ago, after trying to create a relationship that was safe for me and my children, I realized she was not able to live in a relationship with boundaries and could not be trusted with my kids hearts. I<br />
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However, the result of my relationship with her and her leaving us was one of pure disgust for Mother's Day. Every year, in May, when all the pink and purple cards and balloons and store-front announcements of special meals or free desserts would appear, I would roll my eyes and grit my teeth. There were times that I felt absolutely violent about Mother's Day. I vowed that I would not get married and I would certainly never have children whose lives I could damage so badly.<br />
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But God...and that is how all our story's turn, when God intercedes on our behalf...sent some amazing women into my life to be surrogate mothers to me. Mother's who, though I was not theirs and not their problem, stood in the gap and loved on me, taught me to love, showed me God's glory through love and generosity. These women came at different times and phases, some only for a season, but all have been a part of who I have become and I am truly grateful. Their love began softening my heart. Changing my view of motherhood and wife-hood. Thank you Dianne Massey, Karren Tedrow, Debbie Fung-A-Fat, Mary Hudgins, and others. <br />
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College was difficult at times. I had some more "but God..." experiences, where He brought me what I now call my "Iron Women", friends who love and refine me through our friendship. "As iron sharpens iron, so one (wo)man sharpens another." That was true of these friends. However, with only one exception, all of my best friends in high school and college have the most amazing relationships with their mothers. It was hard at times watching them love and get loved on by mothers when mine was incapable of loving me right. But it was also good and healthy for me to see. And of course, their moms loved on me too. They couldn't help it. As moms their love just flowed out around them like a wave and washed over anyone standing there. I was invited into homes and on trips. I was sent food and gifts. I was cooked for and loved on and shown God's adoptive love by these amazing women too. Thank you Pam Horn, Lynda Sandlin, Rhonda Warren, Denise Thompson and others.<br />
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And now, I am a mother. I have 4 precious sons who call me "Momma" and they are my delight. They are treasures from God, that show me more of Him every day. Their wonder at His creation teaches me awe of His might. Their free love and affection teach me delight at His love. Even their depravity shows me the depth of His grace and mercy. That He would call us out of our foolish pride into His salvation and sanctification. But moreover, that He would allow me, the broken, selfish, stubborn woman that I am bear these boys, cradle them, nurse them, watch them grow. That He would give me the honor of raising them to manhood, teaching them about Him, calling them to surrender their lives to Him, training them them up. Who am I? I don't deserve it. I'm a wounded, sinful woman who is in such great need of His grace that I dare not draw a breath without His strength. I have sinned against Him and against my children numerous times a day. But God...and there He goes again...<br />
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<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="text Eph-2-4" id="en-ESV-29217"><sup class="versenum">4 </sup>But<sup class="footnote" value="[<a href="#fen-ESV-29217c" title="See footnote c">c</a>]">[<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Ephesians+2&version=ESV#fen-ESV-29217c" title="See footnote c">c</a>]</sup> God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us,</span> <span class="text Eph-2-5" id="en-ESV-29218"><sup class="versenum">5 </sup>even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ— by grace you have been saved—</span> <span class="text Eph-2-6" id="en-ESV-29219"><sup class="versenum">6 </sup>and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus,</span> <span class="text Eph-2-7" id="en-ESV-29220"><sup class="versenum">7 </sup>so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.</span> <span class="text Eph-2-8" id="en-ESV-29221"><sup class="versenum">8 </sup>For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God,</span> <span class="text Eph-2-9" id="en-ESV-29222"><sup class="versenum">9 </sup> not a result of works, so that no one may boast.</span> <span class="text Eph-2-10" id="en-ESV-29223"><sup class="versenum">10 </sup>For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.</span></i></h4>
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<span class="text Eph-2-10" id="en-ESV-29223">And part of his immeasurable riches toward me is my four amazing boys: Judah, Gideon, Elijah and Levi. And I am His workmanship (he's still working on me) created in Christ Jesus for good works to them. And by His grace, I will walk in those good works, not of my own works or my own strength, but His, mothering these boys in the Grace, Glory, Greatness and Goodness of Jesus Christ! </span><br />
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<span class="text Eph-2-10" id="en-ESV-29223">As usual, Christ is about the business of Redeeming. Redeeming me. Redeeming my past. Redeeming my family. </span><br />
<span class="text Eph-2-10" id="en-ESV-29223"><br /></span><br />
<span class="text Eph-2-10" id="en-ESV-29223">This is a Happy Mother's Day!<span id="goog_1482845129"></span><span id="goog_1482845130"></span></span><br />
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<br />planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-6799537427867349692012-04-26T23:04:00.004-07:002012-04-26T23:04:56.393-07:00Phobias and PlaguesIf you do not live in Central Texas. If you do not have a pecan tree in your yard. If you do not own and/or live in an older house, the rest of this post may sound horrific to you. It is. But it is also just life for us, and for better or worse here it is: we have roaches. Not cockroaches. Not those little boogers that infest your cabinets and set up home and have 2000 children in your pantry. No. Those are terrible and if you have to deal with those or try to root them out, I'm so deeply sorry. I'm sure it's a nightmare. But that's not our particular issue here. No, these are water roaches. Water roaches are about 20 times that size, do not infest your house, but do like to meander through on exploratory trips now and then.<br />
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Water roaches like pecan trees. Scratch that. Water roaches LOVE pecan trees. they like to live between the loose bark and the inner tree. But when it gets too damp, or not damp enough, they will pursue water where they can find it. That means local houses. That means OUR house. And they are my biggest fear.<br />
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See water roaches have no natural offensive mechanisms. They do not bite. They do not sting. They are not poisonous. They do not hurt you. Because they do not have to. No. You will be too busy hurting yourself trying to get away from them. With a lack of offensive strategy they have one big defensive strategy. They are ugly, gross and will run and fly right at you if they become aware you are in the room. Terrible. Terrible!<br />
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So, in June, we will have owned our home for 4 years. I love our house. It's a 1930's style home with a huge front porch, complete with swing, 12 foot ceilings on the ground floor, big windows and a back deck. But there, in the back yard, big as Christmas is a towering pecan tree. Home to 4000 of the worlds most hateful and demonic water roaches you will ever see. These guys are huge, they are ugly, they are fast, they can fly and they love nothing in the world so much as terrorizing me. And it's worse this year than ever!! For the last 3 years we've been in a terrible drought, which, as bad as its been for plants and an animals and (God bless you) the farmers, its been that bad for the insects too. I have not thanked God enough for that. Because this year it started to rain again. And the mosquitoes, flies, cane flies, moths, June bugs, beetles, worms and lady bugs have come back! And so have the water roaches.<br />
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To paint the picture a bit more clearly. I'm also pregnant. Due 2 days ago. That's right! 40 weeks and 2 days pregnant is never a fun time, but when there are roaches involved...oh sisters and brothers, let me testify it has gotten ugly. And instead of being gentle about it, these hateful creatures have come out in full attack against me! Me! Two days ago, after 4 hours of false labor, as I was getting out of the tub, reconciling to the fact that I was not having my baby yet, I pulled a towel out of the cabinet and a roach that had been on the towel, hiding, waiting for the perfect opportunity to attack, leapt off of the towel and onto my very person!! He was touching me!! On my poor, distended, overdue pregnant belly! The horror of it cannot be put into words. I knocked him off and went screaming naked from the bathroom, towel abandoned on the floor, streaking past my 3 boys and hollering at my husband, "It was on me! It was on me! It was on me!" The adrenaline rush alone should have popped this baby right out! Ugh!<br />
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Then, in a (sadly typical) burst of heartburn at 4 yesterday morning, I went to the kitchen to find something to ease the fire in my esophagus, only to find the kitchen invaded by (count them) 4 of the enemy troops! I surrendered the battle and returned to bed. My saint of a husband got up and killed them all and got me a glass of milk. But when he returned to our bedroom to give it to me, he found one on the ceiling and one on the floor of our bedroom! SIX IN ONE NIGHT!! They are in full attack mode, trying to drive me insane and getting close to succeeding.<br />
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Now, I really think this would be bad enough on anyone. My husband is level headed and a gifted roach-killer and it's straining his nerves. But after trying to be tough, to reason and rationalize myself about these bugs, I finally came to the conclusion last year that this is a phobia for me. I am terrified of them. I don't mean in an "Ewww! I'm a girl and I hate bugs!" way. No. I like a lot of bugs. I'll catch grasshoppers, lady bugs and caterpillars. I help the boys with their snail obsession. I'm not squeamish. And stinging insects don't even rattle me. Bees, wasps, spiders, scorpions...I"m bigger than them and I have a good fly swatter. But roaches. Roaches are a whole different story. I'll absolutely turn into a 4th grade girl and climb the walls trying to get away. I'll nearly give myself a heart attack if one comes at me. And I surrender the house to them. I just pack up the kids and we leave until Daddy can get home and rescue us. Except I really don't want my boys to be sissies. So, I've had to toughen up, so they can toughen up. And now, I have 2 budding roach killers and a 2 year old who brags about "Saving momma from the 'tot-row'". But I cannot deny my abject fear of them. It's unreasonable. It's irrational. It's inconvenient. But there it is. I'm flat out freaked out by roaches. <br />
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So here I sit tonight wondering if there is a safe place to sleep where one will not wander across me in the middle of the night and cause a brain aneurism. If I wasn't waiting to have this baby, it might be a good time of year to go see family. Family that lives where no roach ever dreamed of going. Family whose homes are safe from the plague.<br />
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Oh, I know people who think God is a big meanie, who makes up arbitrary rules and smites people with his wrath. But I know He is gracious and good and longs for all to come to repentance because of all 10 plagues he sent on Egypt not ONE was WATER ROACHES!!!planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-55975020351915847172012-04-22T19:01:00.001-07:002012-04-22T19:01:08.331-07:00Faithfulness in the waitAs a church planters wife, there's lots of fun and exciting ways to WAIT! Wait on your husband to get home, wait on your redemption group to show up to start, wait on your children to get to the car, wait to find out if you are approved, wait to see if the support checks are coming in, wait to see if you get to pay ALL your bills this month or just a few, wait to find out if we can meet in that place for our Sunday night gathering...wait...wait...wait.<br />
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I'll be the first (in a long line of people who can testify) that no matter which spiritual inventory you give me, you will not find "Waiting" on the list of my spiritual gifts. In fact, it's more of a "Hey, you're really good at....but you should work on patience and trusting God in the interim" situation with me. So I will let you know that waiting on God or Jonathan or a group or a person or my children is nearly physically painful at times.<br />
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On top of which, I'm waiting to have my 4th baby right now. Yup. I'm pregnant. My due date is 3 days away and this is the longest I've ever been pregnant. My first was born 4 weeks early and my next 2 were both 1 week early. So going past 39 weeks feels overdue to me. I recognize this as not only silly, but whining. That doesn't seem to change my hormonal reaction to it. Every pressure, every Braxton Hicks, every bump of the baby leaves me hopeful, and the ensuing lack of results leaves me almost despondent. It's a wild roller coaster right now. You can pray for my husband.<br />
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But what I realized the other day was that this pregnancy is a beautiful picture of what this church planting process has been like for me: complete lack of control! God is dealing with my heart idol of control on both issues. I can feed myself well, get rest and exercise, pray diligently and mostly...just...wait. The rest is totally and completely up to Jesus and his work. For the church, I pray for my husband, our core, those God is calling, I read my Bible and I repent of my depraved heart and foolish ways, I acknowledge and repent of my heart idols, and I obey what Jesus asks me to do. But I can't actually GROW the church, MAKE people come, PUSH the process faster. It will happen when it happens, how God wants it to happen and in His perfect timing.<br />
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This morning during worship we sang "Lead me to the Cross" and God's word to me rang out loud and clear through the chorus. "Rid me of myself...." I've been so wrapped up in my schedule that I want to happen, my methods, my desires, even my discomfort and frustration that I have been all mired down in ME instead of rooted and grounded in Him. And I am not bringing glory to Him through my exasperation with either "birthing" process, the baby or the church. My impatience and petulance does not glorify Him.<br />
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So, I threw my hands up and testified that "I belong to You, so lead me, lead me to the Cross." And there it is: the Gospel. That Jesus is enough. Enough for me as I await this baby. Enough for me as I await the launch of Redemption Church. That my impatience and idol of control just reveals the depravity that is my enemy and Jesus' beautiful patience and grace towards me on the cross is enough to cover and redeem even that. "Naught of good that I have done; nothing but the blood of Jesus."<br />
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Thank you Lord for being bigger than my pettiness. Greater than my failings. Gracious in my selfishness. Good to me even when I'm throwing a fit. And more glorious than all my worries, wants, whims and wishes! You are Lord! You are faithful! Even in my waiting....planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-29947275402342221112012-04-01T19:01:00.000-07:002012-04-01T19:01:18.238-07:00Balancing ActI don't really believe in trying to achieve "balance". For one thing I find it an ambiguous term at best, usually used to push increasing your time/money/awareness of something someone else finds vital. As in, "You need to increase your time spent exercising! Learn to balance!" I also find it impossible to attain! So mainly trying to find balance in my life just puts all the weight on "guilty". I end up feeling badly that I spent that hour exercising instead of reading to my kids, or folding clothes instead of reading the Bible, or blogging instead of vacuuming!<br />
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However, I have found that in another sense, my entire life is a balancing act. Not putting the same amount of value, priority, time and energy into everything that wants my attention, but the precarious act of walking the thin line directly in front of me. So not a "scale" balance but a "beam" balance.<br />
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I tend to be a tad ADD. I have a hard time staying focused on one project, one book, one TV show, one child, one goal at a time. I want to do it all (which is fine) right now (which is impossible). I can't pursue my Master's Degree, home school 2 children, make all my bread from scratch, train to be a midwife, get to know all my neighbors, support my husband in the church plant, host a Redemption group at my house, join a co-op, grow a garden and have an infant all in the same year. I just can't. That's really difficult and painful for me to admit.But there it is. Hi, my name is Jennifer and I am not superwoman. <br />
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So I have to focus. I have to pick. I have to put one foot in front of the other and take only the next step. Sometimes that next step is a cartwheel, or the splits or even a leap. But there's only one place to land, one area to come down on, so much room to maneuver. I can make it pretty, graceful and land with a flourish, but I have to stay on a certain track. That grates on me! My personality says I'm really more of a interpretive dancer. But God has said, "No Ma'am!"<br />
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So here we are. I'm chomping at the bit to go further and faster with Redemption Church plant. I want to have large BBQs in our neighborhood, have all the neighbors over one-by-one for dinner, find a place to meet on Sunday mornings, learn how to play the guitar (someone has to lead worship...) and do it yesterday! But alas, I'm 3 weeks from my due date with baby #4. I'm picking homeschool curriculum for Baby #1 & #2. I just finished potty training Baby #3 and my house is almost clean. That's pretty much all the room on my plate today. Even if I had my neighbors over, they might feel a bit awkward if my water breaks! If I planned a big Easter Egg hunt, who's going to buy, fill and hide those eggs.<br />
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So for now, I trust in God's sovereign timing. He created this baby. He called us to this town. He is pouring out His Spirit, in His timing and His Way. He is whispering to me to "Be still and know that I am God. Those who wait on ME will soar on wings like Eagles. Strength will rise as you wait upon me. Unless I build the house, he who builds it labors in vain. TRUST ME!"<br />
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So, next step...planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-11446969889564883732012-03-22T20:39:00.001-07:002012-03-22T20:39:43.373-07:00Go where I send thee...or stay where I tell you to!I've been avoiding blogging.<br />
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I've also been very busy growing a 4th son, raising the 3 I have, homeschooling a 1st grader, being a wife/daughter/sister/friend, cooking food and even occasionally cleaning my house.<br />
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But I have thought about blogging, intended on blogging, written several blog posts in my head, but never actually set down and typed. Mainly because we had good news that needed to be shared in an official order to be appropriate and here was not the place.<br />
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So...<br />
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We are staying in Temple, Texas to plant a church.<br />
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After much prayer, fleece laying out, seeking direction and godly counsel and finally surrender to God's undeniable leading, He has made it very clear: We are to stay put and plant here.<br />
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That came as both a relief and a shock to me. We had initially planned on planting in Temple, but were advised to consider Madison based on our personalities (read hippie/natural/crunchy and not-main-stream-political). While I wasn't thrilled at the prospect, I had diligently asked God to give me a heart for Madison, and on that issue He was absolutely faithful. I still pray for Madison and the churches being planted there and men ministering to that great city: that the Gospel will come in power, that there will be repentance and a great out-pouring of His Holy Spirit. We just won't be there to see it in person!<br />
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However, God made it abundantly clear that we were called to plant in North Temple and that meant shifting gears. A LOT of gears. We realized that despite packing up most of our belongings for nearly a year, we were staying in this house. While we had been unplugging and pulling up roots, we needed to put them back down again. While we had been visioning, dreaming and praying for Madison, a city we barely knew, we were supposed to be visioning, dreaming and praying for Temple, a city we had stopped engaging. It was wild. It was weird. It was totally God's way of working with us.<br />
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But once He made His will clear, He also made the way clear. It has been humbling and honoring to watch Him at work in this calling. When we surrendered to plant in Temple, the vision and dream and prayers began flowing. We had to slow down a bit actually because we almost tripped over ourselves getting excited about blessing and redeeming this city. We began meeting and connecting with people who have a passion and desire that matches our own to bring the Gospel to the unreached people of Temple, to utilize the resources already present, to redeem the very culture growing here for His Glory!<br />
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We also of course got the standard church planting questions: Are there not already churches in Temple?<br />
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Well, first I would say that is the wrong question. The Right question MIGHT be: Are there Gospel-preaching churches in Temple? Of course! There are churches in Temple, Belton and Killeen that are preaching the Gospel and reaching people for Jesus. We are not reinventing the wheel here. But my question back is: Can one church or even 10 effectively minister to the 60,000+ people within the city limits? Or the 300,000+ of the Bell County area? No! Until everyone is reached with the Gospel, new church plants are not a waste. New church plants for the sake of being "different" is idolatry. But new church plants with the vision and calling of reaching different people groups, cultures and demographics or simply those who have not been engaged by existing churches is Biblical and godly. Viewing another church or a new church plant as "hostile" or "encroaching" is simply not putting the Gospel above our egos. And the results do not lie: the fastest way to spread the Gospel is new churches. New Christians begat New Christians. We are called to "go!".<br />
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So, we're staying...<br />
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In Temple! <br />
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And we're excited. Excited to stay near friends and family. Excited for what God is doing through our friends, our Redemption group, our neighborhood. Excited about where God is calling us, whom He's calling us to and who is being called to us. It's a time of new beginnings, not only for our little one due in 5 weeks, but for a church that God is raising up that we have the honor of being a part of.<br />
<br />planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-1409083169213709032011-12-16T15:31:00.000-08:002011-12-16T15:31:21.120-08:00Tis the SeasonAnd the time is upon us. I have to say that despite the hectic schedule, the money going out to buy presents, the INSANE traffic and planning for nearly everyone we're related to be in our house for Christmas I'm having a blast!! I love Christmas.<br />
But it wasn't always that way. Growing up Christmas was not always the "season to be jolly" at my house. For one thing, it seemed that the pressure of having the "perfect Christmas" drove my mother to distraction and her edginess put my Dad in a dither. And then, when I was 15, my mother left at Christmas, marring the potential joy of the season for many years. Charlie Brown had nothing on the pathetic Christmases that ensued for a few years. We even went tree-less for awhile, not being able to muster the gumption to dig the fake, dilapadated tree out of the storage shed.<br />
However, as the years passed, I slowly grew a fondness for cold weather and the general busyness of the holidays, was well as a sense of relief and rest that followed the flurry and headache of finals at college. There was nothing like making that drive home from Abilene on a chilly afternoon, knowing I had finished another semester and would get nearly 4 weeks with my family and high school friends. I learned to enjoy New Year's Eve and began listening to winter music, if not Christmas music: Baby It's Cold Outside, Winter Wonderland, What are You Doing New Year's.<br />
Then I met Jonathan one summer while interning in Colorado. We immediately fell in like and began dating and had the most fun fall semester. The church I had worked at in Colorado had a winter camp between Christmas and New Years, so to see Jonathan and see my youth group kids, I bought a ticket and flew up to see him. That first dating Christmas, and being in Colorado for the holidays was magic. It was truly a white Christmas, and Jonathan bought me gifts and we were googly-eyed at each other. All of a sudden Christmas began to look more and more enjoyable.<br />
Every year after that it got better. The next Christmas he proposed and we spent the winter camp enjoying planning a spring wedding. Our first married Christmas I was actually in Colorado on Christmas morning and got to wake up to a White Christmas and the joy of his HUGE family and all their chaos. Four of his five siblings were there and his 4 nieces and nephews made a raucous that rivaled an Avalanche game. It was pure bliss for me.That was the year I fell back in like with Christmas. I realized that Christmas is wonderful when you are in love, but it's magical when there are kids.<br />
From the first Christmas we had Judah, everything changed. I wanted to make memories. I wanted to take pictures. I wanted to decorate! It was so much fun. And it just gets better with every kid we add. We have never been rich. Christmas has never been a blow out event. We stay reasonable, make a lot of gifts by hand, and don't allow the "I want I want" attitude. We don't do Santa Claus, but we try to protect the truth from our friends who do. We focus on family and time together more than any particular tradition. But watching my children grow into an understanding of the Greatest Gift we get, Christ in us, the hope of Glory has been the biggest blessing.<br />
I love Christmas. My husband taught me to like Christmas again. My children taught me to enjoy Christmas again. Jesus taught me to love Him again at Christmas as I come to understand the Gospel through the story of His birth. planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-9421995878067343192011-09-27T11:13:00.000-07:002011-09-27T11:13:05.180-07:00Can't we all just get along?Growing up, I was one of those girls that had a hard time making friends with other girls. I would have a few close pals, but the majority of females were a clique I could not break into. I always seemed a step behind the fashion, out of touch with modern hairstyles, and of course there was my bad habit of always having my nose in a book. That never goes over well with social circles. High school was better, but I dreaded college. I went to a private Christian school with single gender dorms and a curfew. Yes, the dark ages. I shuddered at the idea of getting locked up every night in a building with 600 other girls doing their nails, putting on facial masks and flipping through Cosmo.<br />
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Turned out college wasn't the slow torture chamber I had imagined, and I ended up making some life-long friends there. I found that I wasn't the only woman who doesn't get an adrenaline rush from shopping, getting a manicure or perusing the latest Bride magazine (the most popular magazine on campus of course "Ring by spring or your money back"). I also managed to get a little style, figure out how to fix my hair and learn an appreciation for female companionship. My circle was still small, and I had more guy friends than gal pals, but my closest friends, the ones who knew my heart and loved me anyway, were women.<br />
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When I got married, I was sure that the circle that always seemed to close me out from the thriving mass of women-friends would magically open, I would be warmly accepted and we would drink hot tea and chat in the afternoons together. That was not reality. I realized with marriage, making friends became exponentially harder. Now I had to find a woman that I liked, we had a few things in common and could talk. Then we had to test and see if my husband liked her husband, and that's always tricky because most men can fake it for one dinner or game of bowling, but do they really enjoy each others company. Then the final straw was whether I liked her husband and she liked mine. Only when all 4 had connections that worked did the friendship have a chance of truly blossoming. Sigh...this was a long process.<br />
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Then came children. The golden key to the inner sanctum of women friends. Finally, I had found what would bond all of us in mutual respect and love, or at least survival: babies. However, this also proved unreliable at best and at times flat out untrue. And here is what I really want to discuss. Why can't mother's get along? Ultimately I think the answer lies in pride. Let me back up and explain: mothering is not one long stream of continuous process that you put your raft in and float, as I had imagined, where you might bump into others with rafts and chat as you attempted to remain upright and safe. Oh no! Mothering is a series of yes or no questions and each answer puts you into a steadily diminishing circle or an ever widening circle. Our choices that we make as mothers determine who we can be friends with because whatever choice we make must be the right and the only right one. Otherwise we would not have made that choice! Right? Wrong. I think this attitude ends up shooting us in the foot and leaving us lonely and distraught.<br />
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I think I have a particular empathy for this situation because my choices have ended up being a mixed bag that has left me out of most circles. If I had chosen to go completely with one set or another, I would know who my assigned group of friends are. However, I chose to passionately and thoroughly research each and every choice that came my way, reading articles, books, blogs and quizzing my mom friends for their experiences. This led me to make multiple different choices. Everyone of them was right. Right for ME! That's the conclusion of all my research, all my effort, all my thought and prayer. There is no one right answer for everyone, every family, every mother. There's only what works for YOU, YOUR family, YOUR baby. Our pride tells us that what we chose is right for everyone, but that's false.<br />
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I chose to have my babies at home with a midwife. Not because I'm a huge rebel or have anything political to prove (those tendencies came after--when I got so much grief) but because I am TERRIFIED of anasthesia and hospitals and I'm really healthy with no complications. I can only relax at home. But I would never think that was for everyone. I know LOTS of moms who would be out of their minds with worry at home and never be able to relax, or who really need that epidural to cope with labor, or want experts 2 feet away if something goes wrong with baby. Or even more, have complications and MUST be at a hospital. They should go to the hospital. No judgment. Just love.<br />
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But that doesn't mean I fit in with the crunchy moms either. I don't co-sleep (my husband nearly suffocated my first son by rolling over on him--plus I find it very stifling to our love life to have a baby in bed!). I don't practice Attachment Parenting. I don't do extended nursing or EC potting training. And I did Babywise! Big NO-NO with crunch moms!<br />
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Yes, I chose to Babywise my baby. Not because I think that's the only way to do it, but because it kept me sane and my baby fed. Before a mom put Babywise in my hand, some loving old ladies had told me that babies eat every 4 hours. Judah was starving! Babywise told me to feed my baby every 2.5-3.5 hours and to measure that by his hunger. It taught me to trust my instincts about what was really going on with my baby and not to assume it was hunger. It might be a wet diaper or being really tired. I learned to read my children; and they learned to sleep! But I know lots of parents who are the opposite. Babywise made them feel forced to hyper-schedule and distance themselves from their child. Or they are very pasionate about on-demand feeding. So, don't Babywise! I'm okay with that. I don't have to wake up every 3 hours for two years, so it doesn't bother me what you do!<br />
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And the list goes on...<br />
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I think it's perfectly acceptable to make choices based on parenting style and children's needs, and still respect each others choices. What I don't understand is the militant attitudes. I'm not campaigning to get you on my side. I don't need you to be a Cry-it-out mom like me to have a play-date with you or invite you to my book club. But can I not be an attachment parent and you not call CPS on me? I just find a lot of moms feel isolated, lonely and desperate, but they can't find a friend because they do things a bit differently. Or maybe a lot differently. Are their kids healthy? Are they loved? Are they developing, showing empathy, hitting their marks (or close)? Then let it go! Maybe your ways wouldn't have worked at all for that mom. You can still be friends! You can still learn from each other.<br />
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Let's give peas a chance!<br />
<br />planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-27814424588911515232011-09-02T12:36:00.000-07:002011-09-02T12:38:00.784-07:00Creative Outlet<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I think part of being a stay-at-home-homeschooling-mom/planter's-wife means that you have a lot of creativity that longs to come out in new and unusual ways. I end up doing massive projects for homeschooling with the kids, most of which do not turn out exactly how I envisioned but we enjoy the journey. I also read and research a lot of DIY stuff and am now making my own bread, pizza crust, power muffins and such. I used to have a sewing machine and made my own hooter hider (or udder cover if you'd rather). I have patterns and material packed up in boxes and crates awaiting a new sewing machine, hopefully with a serger as well!!! But that's a long time off. So I've been contenting myself with my hot-glue gun. Lately my passion has been book wreaths. I made one out of old hymnals for my dear friend Joanne who's family moved to Nacogdoches for a ministry position. But that just whetted my appetite. Today, I made one for my sis-in-law who is a AP English teacher in Midland. I used Margaret Atwood and Shakespeare books and this was what I created:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqAgvdWq89uF4AGCFda71URhET7opqc6XxO_cmCR1riF5dU0tf3Ttq5m2hRng0weJSZEpXk4j73M17Q5smFkkRwAfEUDMu4ALH3sPLOp_z7UsG7tXm1JVJ307d33Hr-Y_GRwtVhxkLN998/s1600/Wreath.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqAgvdWq89uF4AGCFda71URhET7opqc6XxO_cmCR1riF5dU0tf3Ttq5m2hRng0weJSZEpXk4j73M17Q5smFkkRwAfEUDMu4ALH3sPLOp_z7UsG7tXm1JVJ307d33Hr-Y_GRwtVhxkLN998/s320/Wreath.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
I added the used book binding from the Margaret Atwood book and glued in a quote:<br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;">A
book is the only place in which you can examine a fragile thought
without breaking it, or explore an explosive idea without fear it will
go off in your face. It is one of the few havens remaining where a
man's mind can get both provocation and privacy. ~Edward P. Morgan</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;">I LOVE how it turned out. I think next I'm making myself one </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;">Next stop: Etsy! But how would I ever ship these?!? </span>planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-54594206025957736232011-09-01T18:17:00.000-07:002011-09-01T18:18:25.386-07:00Handful...of blessings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiovOz2i8WSuRAd75cjTImdVlzws8EsgHPiWbkVi12Yo-_kepvxdhE-HyJcxOqLAB16Y2X_WvcZAKa2WXmch1yRy2loWzz8WcBIWxneBZS9S2bXvP_UIzvgQIUjlvgiZfclwMEnMBfRJYcQ/s1600/DSC_0075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiovOz2i8WSuRAd75cjTImdVlzws8EsgHPiWbkVi12Yo-_kepvxdhE-HyJcxOqLAB16Y2X_WvcZAKa2WXmch1yRy2loWzz8WcBIWxneBZS9S2bXvP_UIzvgQIUjlvgiZfclwMEnMBfRJYcQ/s320/DSC_0075.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
These are my precious boys. It's always superhero day at our house, and occassionaly we all go as the same superhero. They are all 3 characters with enough personality in each one individually to flatten you, but put together they can be a tornado. The most often comment I get when we come waltzing into stores, restaurants or the mall is, "Whoa! You've got your hands full!"<br />
<br />
And yes I do. In fact I could use a third hand most of the time, especially crossing the street or parking lot. But we figure it out. Usually, I hold Elijah's hand, he hold's Gideon's, Gideon holds Judahs and we quack as we walk since we look like a line of little ducks. <br />
<br />
They can be pills too. They fight over who gets to be which superhero and who has which power. Sometimes feelings get hurt when Judah makes an air castle and Gideon doesn't have a flying buffalo to get up to it. One time, Gideon punched Judah in the face for arguign about Captain America's benefits and flaws. So I had to literally carry out the Gospel on him, and take away his privledge of using his hand for an hour:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzzKs8g0Ng7h3fnZcWZavBrn7lFIc_wgV0RfLmTVHt-7aGbLz6ukhdh2yWTVnuCuq6jPk7gKqJWKCCdDELDTXDytb-ucZc4UCZtpS1VNKBS546vaaA5mr5TztskPeD6XDaraPb18E4LKgz/s1600/Gideon+%252B+duct+tape.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzzKs8g0Ng7h3fnZcWZavBrn7lFIc_wgV0RfLmTVHt-7aGbLz6ukhdh2yWTVnuCuq6jPk7gKqJWKCCdDELDTXDytb-ucZc4UCZtpS1VNKBS546vaaA5mr5TztskPeD6XDaraPb18E4LKgz/s200/Gideon+%252B+duct+tape.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
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(I'll post later about the many uses of duct tape in discipline ;))</div>
<br />
<br />
However, mostly, they are just precious. THey run up out of nowhere to hug me tight and say, "I love you, Momma!" They fill up my water bottle for me when it's low. They say, "Yes, ma'am" when I ask them to do something (most of the time). They play with each other so sweetly, even if it's rough and tumble. They love their brothers. They love their parents. They love Jesus.<br />
<br />
So when someome says to me, "Whoa! You've got your hands full!" I say, "Absolutely! Full of Blessings!"<br />
<br />Behold, <b>children</b> are a <b>heritage</b> from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward.<br />
Psalm 127:3<br />
<br />planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-21927181396812165722011-08-30T10:48:00.000-07:002011-08-30T11:08:26.017-07:00Roll the Gospel Chariot AlongSo, it's been awhile. Mainly because the Life of a Planters Wife is unpredictable as weather! We've had our house on the market for 5 1/2 LONG months. We have had a stream of picky and ecstatic potential buyers flowing through the doors at all hours of the day, nap-time not held sacred by the real estate agencies. We've had 4 offers, 2 contracts and not 1 closing day! We prayed; we fasted; we lowered prices; we packed up everything and we waited. My dad got married and moved out; we moved everyone downstairs; we had a garage sale. Nothing doing.
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<br />One night I was reading through my Bible study from <a href="https://bookstore.upperroom.org/pcd/eServCart?iServ=MjgzMDE2MTU3NCZpUGFnZUlkPTEyODE5NSZpSW52SWQ9NTEyMDgmaVNrdUxpc3Q9JmlTdWJUZXJtPTA=">The Upper Room</a> I came upon a promise from Isaiah 45:2,
<br />"I will go before you
<br /> and level the exalted places,
<br />I will break in pieces the doors of bronze
<br /> and cut through the bars of iron,"
<br />I was immediately struck that this was still God's Word to us. That whatever was keeping us from where He had us going, He was also perfectly sovereign over and capable of overcoming. So I wrote the verse on a piece of paper, and then wrote all over it the things keeping us from moving to Madison: selling the house, jobs in Madison, supporters, a place to live, etc. I then cut the paper in half, broke bread over it and took communion with my Lord over His Gospel being sufficient for even me. I felt secure it was in His hands.
<br />
<br />That was 3 months ago.
<br />
<br />Two weeks ago, things changed again. It became obvious that there was a blessed opportunity for my husband to finish a certification that he has been working on for a few years. Finishing this certification would open up some lucrative and less-time consuming work opportunities. Finishing this certification means staying here. But at the same time I remembered the verse, communion and the peace I had experienced. I felt the same overwhelming message, "God is sovereign over this and perfectly capable of overcoming any obstacles." I have often said it is difficult to tell the difference between a roadblock from Satan and a closed door from God--they feel the same. The difference, I've discovered, is that a closed door WILL NOT open, but a roadblock WILL NOT remain. So, I told my husband, "If God wanted us to sell the house, He could have done it 5 months ago. We would have been in Madison before the ink was dry. If it's not selling, it's because God has something else in mind right now. I don't hear 'No', just 'Not yet'. Let's be faithful and wait on God until strength rises."
<br />
<br />So that's what we're doing. We're following God still. He's driving this crazy train and I'm just sitting back eating my popcorn. Until May, the Hartnagles are in Temple, TX. Was that our plan? Nope. Was it God's? Apparently! So here we are doing the only thing HE has ever asked of us: being obedient. Not through our strength or from our motives or for our glory but His. And as long as we're here, we're going to love on people, get to know our neighbors more, bless our city, live out the Gospel.
<br />
<br />We're rolling with the Gospel, and that's how we roll!
<br />planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-12297967999520343352011-06-28T06:28:00.000-07:002011-06-30T19:00:55.315-07:00Rules of Engagement--Part 1<span style="font-family: courier new;">My husband has always said that my red hair is just a symptom of my being a red head. My fiery temper and feisty spirit are the true causes behind it, and I believe that his smirk as he says it belies his attempts at acting put out. He wouldn't want a wimpy woman standing by him, and, quite frankly a eye-lash-lowering gal wouldn't make it as Jonathan's wife! I needed a backbone!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">But there's a flip-side to that light joke. James says that our tongues are </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;">not</span><span style="font-family: courier new;"> set on fire by our feisty spirits but by</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: courier new;"> hell</span><span style="font-family: courier new;"> itself, and if you've ever experienced a season of contention in your marriage, or even just had a fight (and if you've been married for more than a week you have--or your a liar), you'll know exactly what he means.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Listening to </span><a style="font-family: courier new;" href="http://www.marshillchurch.org/">Mark Driscoll's</a><span style="font-family: courier new;"> podcast a few months ago, Marriage, Ministry and Mistakes, he said that if you're entering the ministry and especially church planting, when it comes to spiritual attacks, you better buckle up. Even if you've experienced some attacks on your marriage before, you haven't seen anything yet compared to what you will experience when you accept a call to ministry or church planting. I remembering chuckling at that (I usually chuckle at Mark), and wondering exactly how that might be playing out in our lives.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Boy, was he right!</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">I don't know where you stand on spiritual attack, but I'm sold that it happens. I'm convinced it happens regularly to Christ-followers. I'm assured that it happens daily or even hourly to ministers, their wives and their families. We are certainly experiencing it in our home. There are many different ways I see it playing out, both at home personally, and in the lives of other Christ-followers and ministers I know. Here are a few ways I see it happening.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: courier new;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">1. Health</span></span><span style="font-family: courier new;">--what is normally a healthy family with just a few regular illness a year, suddenly can't seem to get on top of the health cycle. Before they are fully recovered from one virus or infection, another one sets in, or they pass it around endlessly never having the whole family well at the same time. Sometimes, and I'm thinking of </span><a style="font-family: courier new;" href="http://fm.thevillagechurch.net/">the Village</a><span style="font-family: courier new;"> here, there are HUGE diseases that, for no apparent reason and against all odds spread like wildfire among a church, staff or family unit. The enemy loves to attack our health and our children's health. It keeps us on our heals, at our lowest resistance, prone to feeling overwhelmed, scared and sorry for ourselves. The last thing we're interested in when our kids are running 102 or we have cancer is making sure that our discipling is going well. Illness is an excellent distraction.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: courier new;font-size:130%;" >2. Finances</span><span style="font-family: courier new;">--if mammon is our most sought after idol, then this is the easiest thing to attack. Suddenly, the numbers don't add up anymore, there's a layoff, a cut back, business drops or drys up. The car breaks, the taxes are due, the roof leaks. We have no padding or maybe we can't even pay the bills. We are walking to the grocery store, sewing up holes in jeans cause we can't buy new ones and politely excusing ourselves from play-dates at the zoo cause we just can't afford the gas or price of admission. This is a great tactic for the enemy with me because fear is my weak point, my button. I start panicking and racing around, selling the kids toys and trying to drum up ways to pay people. We become stalwarted in our efforts because we can't afford to go out to dinner with other families or send flowers to the sick. We want to hide in our houses. Especially when this attack comes through layoffs, we are embarrassed and hear the enemy whisper, "If a man cannot manage his own household, how can he manage the household of God?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: courier new;font-size:130%;" >3. Bickering and arguing</span><span style="font-family: courier new;">--suddenly everything is annoying. Everyone is on everyone else's nerves. The least thing grows to hurricane proportions in 2.5 seconds and then you want to run away or scream or runaway AND scream. You read ulterior motives into everything your spouse or children or parents or friends say. You take everything personally. There is absolutely no grace given, no room for "Seeing the other side". You dig in your heels and defend to the death whatever point you are making.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: courier new;font-size:130%;" >4. Doubt</span><span style="font-family: courier new;">--you begin to wonder, "Did God really call us to do this, or did He call someone else and we just answered the phone?". It seems overwhelming and impossible, the task set before you. You seem like the absolute worst pick for the job (by the way you ARE and there's a reason for that), and God must be crazy to choose you for this (He is--and I can defend that biblically). It's going to fail miserably and you're going to fall on your face and all the "I told you so"s will gather around you and wag their heads.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: courier new;font-size:130%;" >5. Discouragement</span><span style="font-family: courier new;">--those that are closest to you, whom you love dearly, who you were SURE would support you, question everything you say about what you're doing. They come up with brilliant arguments about why you absolutely should not pursue this course of action and even seem spiritually aware that God is NOT calling you to do THIS. They point out all the flaws in your plan and are the first to raise their eyebrows when the money gets tight, or disappears and the first to jump on the bandwagon when you voice doubts.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">There are a "legion" of other ways that the enemy attacks. He is insidious and sly and he is NOT by any stretch of the imagination a gentleman. He wants to mess with you and the last thing on earth he wants is an effective minister and family. The problem with these things are that they all deal in lies. He is the father of lies and the accuser. He whispers a lie, you buy it and then he immediately accuses you of believing the lie and how horrible you are for thinking this.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">I've been going through this and more. I've been walloped a lot, and I'd like to think I've dealt a few blows myself. What I'd like to do is discuss spiritual warfare, especially in regards to the areas mentioned above and I'd like to share my experience, my beliefs and most importantly (perhaps the only one of real importance anyway) the Biblical response to these.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">I'm going to be real and honest here. If that makes you uncomfortable that a minister and his wife fight or yell or sin, then please don't read on. But I am a firm believer that "the saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost. But I received mercy for this reason, that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display his perfect patience as an example to those who were to believe in him for eternal life." 1 Timothy 1:15-16</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">So come along. Watch Jesus display his perfect patience in me. Put on the armor and get ready to strap on your piece and do business with our enemy!</span>planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-19861021461109862572011-06-26T19:59:00.000-07:002011-06-26T20:00:01.338-07:00As we approached the summer (other wise known as "birthday season) with the intent to move in June, we realized we had a problem. Judah's birthday is June 1st. No problem there, we would almost certainly still be in Texas for that. He would get to, in effect, have his cake and eat it to, with having a birthday here where all his friends could attend. But Gideon was a different matter. His birthday is August 1 (no, I didn't purposely plan that, though it helps on remembering birthdays!). We fully planned on being in Wisconsin by August 1. That would be great for heat index, but not so great for Gideon's birthday bash. None of his long time friends would be able to make the drive! It might be a lonely and rather sparse 4th birthday.<br /><br />So, being the creative and extraordinary mom that I am, I decided to do a combined birthday in the middle. I hadn't really factored all the issues in while making this decision: agreeing on a theme, agreeing on a place, agreeing on an invite list. But, as luck would have it, Judah is very persuasive and Gideon is fairly agreeable, and we got over each issue with minimal damage done.<br /><br />Our Green Lantern fiesta was planned and invitations divvied out accordingly. In brightest day in darkest night, no detail did escape my sight. We were at a splash pad in our town and we had so much fun! Some of our very best friends were there (Judah, Gideon and Momma's!). And I loved watching them run and play with their besties for what may be one of the few times left this summer. I decided that the least messy version of birthday bliss was Cake Pops!! I was ecstatic to make these. The only problem being that I took the advice of the author of the book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Cake-Pops-Tricks-Recipes-Irresistible/dp/0811876373/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1309040672&sr=1-1">Cake Pops</a>, whom I had assumed had actually made cake pops before. Boy was that a silly assumption!<br /><br />THe actually cake ball forming went just fine. I have a plan in place for making them more round and less...lumpy next time, but the taste was excellent and I already have recipes in my head for better versions. But the real problem came when I began to coat them. The recipe told me to put the pop sticks in FIRST and let them set, then to coat the rest with chocolate. Bad idea, Indie! It did not work out well. I had half coated cake pops, or cake pops dripping on the floor. When I attempted to fix them, the affixed themselves to my cooling tray and I lost 4 in the battle! I nearly went all Kings Speech on them, but I refrained.<br /><br />I am proud of my display method though. I needed foam to stick them in at the party. So I bought a wreath form and two rectangles and made the Green Lantern symbol. I painted it all green and coated the cake pops with white chocolate, so it was color-correct.<br /><br />I do wish that someone had warned me I needed to be Super-hero knowledgeable to raise 3 boys! I had to answer the question, "If Superman and Flash ran a race, who would win?" I have no flipping clue!! But I honestly love that they like super heroes. I think it's an easy transition to Bible stories and the ultimate Super Hero.<br /><br />In brightest day, in blackest night,<br />No evil shall escape my sight<br />Let all who worship evil's might<br />beware my power, Green Lantern's Light!planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-29233683821377496512011-05-26T14:54:00.000-07:002011-05-26T15:12:18.292-07:00Maelstroms and MayhemElijah has become a walking maelstrom in our house.<br /><br />If you're not wanting to open your Webster app, the definition is:<span class="ssens"> a powerful often violent <a id="KonaLink0" class="kLink" style="text-decoration: underline !important;position:static;font-family:inherit !important;font-weight:inherit !important;font-size:inherit !important;" href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/maelstrom#"><span style="color: #006400 !important; font-family:inherit !important;font-weight:inherit !important;font-size:inherit !important;position:static;color:#006400;" ><span class="kLink" style="color: #006400 !important; font-family:inherit !important;font-weight:inherit !important;font-size:inherit !important;position:static;">whirlpool</span></span></a> sucking in objects within a given radius<br /><br />That's Elijah!<br /><br />Each of my kids demonstrated a particular ability early and earlier than their brothers. Judah was fine motor skills. His pincer grasp came very early and he could feed himself before he could even sit up alone. Gideon was verbal skills. He was imitating sounds at 2 months and hasn't shut up since! Elijah is my gross motor skills. He rolled over early, crawled early, walked early. He could climb our spiral stairs before he could even stand unassisted. He has a desperate need to keep up with his two older brothers and that keeps him in band-aids and us in constant motion.<br /><br />Thus his maelstrom-like tendencies. Only mayhem follows a child that is physically ahead of his mental development. When they walk before they understand "no" sufficiently, there's going to be disaster.<br /><br />Last Wednesday, Elijah was showering in the upstairs shower. He put his hands on the glass door to tell Daddy he was all done. Jonathan, not used to Elijah in the shower, swung the door open. HOwever, Elijah was pushing on the door. When Daddy opened it, all of Elijah's weight fell out through the open door, his wet feet slipped on the shower floor and he fell. Luckily, he caught himself...with his front tooth! Knocked it loose. Blood everywhere.<br /><br />At first we couldn't tell what exactly was wrong, the lip and gum were swollen. But as the swelling went down, we could tell that the tooth wasn't really that loose anymore. We hoped that it would firm back up and he could keep it.<br /><br />But accident prone as he is, that was a silly wish. Sure as the dawn, 3 days ago, he tripped again (this time on dry land) and hit his face right on that tooth, knocking it loose again. If he'd just have the good grace to knock it all the way out, we'd be done with the drama. I'm not really concerned about him losing a baby tooth. He'll grow another one in a few years. But what I don't like is his little snaggle tooth (he looks like Nanny McPhee...before the kids like her) that he keeps biting his lip with.<br /><br />So, we gave in and called an old family friend, Dr. Boyd, today. He is the best. So gentle with kids and so sweet. He told us it would probably come out on its own, but since we're moving, he doesn't want us to have to try and find a dentist in Madison to pull it if something goes wrong.<br /><br />So, next Thursday our already goofy child will get some laughing gas and be even sillier. Jonathan is dying to video tape it and put him on YouTube. Something like <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=txqiwrbYGrs">David after the Dentist</a> is what he's hoping to achieve I think. Since it's Elijah and not Gideon, that might be a long shot. Maybe we can get some laughing gas for Gideon too!<br /><br />Keep Elijah in your prayers. He doesn't like people messing with this mouth!<br /></span>planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-72863591629097689642011-05-07T18:58:00.000-07:002011-05-07T21:19:23.049-07:00He Gave me You!Mother's Day has such a mixed message for me. My mother left when I was 16. Actually left on my birthday to go off and find her true happiness (which, by the way, wasn't us). I hated Mother's Day for years. Then I got pregnant. I wasn't even thinking of Mother's Day; my baby wasn't due until June 27th, but my MIL sent me a Mother's Day card, and all of a sudden it struck me that I was becoming what I didn't know how to be.<br /><br />Looking back that's laughable. Whether your mom was wonderful, terrible or not even there, you have no idea how to be a mom! It doesn't come with instruction booklets or a return policy or a website of FAQ's. There's books, sure. Too many actually. I have a sweet friend that would get an A+ on mothering research if we were handing those out, but still felt inadequate to care for her baby.<br /><br />I hated Mother's Day from the time my mother left until I became a mother. I thought Mother's Day was about honoring moms, and it definitely is. But now, with my sweet first born turning 6 soon, and 2 more blessings as well, Mother's day has taken on a different meaning to me, or at very least a dual meaning.<br /><br />I feel honored as a mom, but I also feel honored to BE a mom. I have become more aware than ever of the high calling of motherhood, the depth of dependancy on Jesus it requires and the level of submission it demands. I am in awe of the scope of the task that is placed before me, not for now, or for 18 years a pop, but for eternity. Every moment of every day for the rest of my life, I will be their mom! I will be guiding them, training them, teaching them and most importantly Gospeling them. I know it will look different as they age, but I will always be their mom. The weight of that floors me sometimes. These little men are my calling, my highest calling, and my very great responsibility. They are not my possessions, my keepsakes, my trophies. They are on loan to me, stewarded out to me, to point them back to their Daddy, their BIG DADDY, and be molded and formed in His image. I am not worthy of this!<br /><br />I often get overwhelmed and bogged down in the mundane tasks of motherhood: make your bed, brush your teeth, do your homework, eat your food, ALL your food, not too much TV, play fair, go to sleep. And that can whittle your life down to where it's ALL The mothering I do if I don't watch myself. But mothering is so much bigger. I am literally molding their hearts, training their minds, setting their footsteps.<br /><br />I find myself constantly in prayer, asking God to make me worthy of Him, of His calling on my life to be a mother. I ask Him to parent through me. To move me out of His way, and love my boys in the perfect way that I cannot. I realize that they make me more vulnerable to hurts and fear than anything else ever can. They could wrench my heart in ways not even my husband has the power to do. To scratch them is to cut me; to bruise their hearts is to pulverize mine. There is so much out there to injure them and so much at stake for them. I have been brought to my knees, interceding for them that they follow Christ, that His plans for their future are to prosper them and not to harm them to give them hope. I am beginning to understand that I can truly have, "no greater joy than to hear of my children walking in the truth."<br /><br />That is my prayer this Mother's Day, that my boys may know and be known fully in Jesus. That I may live a life worthy of the calling of the Gospel in their lives. That I may daily, hourly, repent of where I am falling short and surrender to Him loving them through me. And that I may ever be blessed to be called, "Momma".planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-64422101395359825842011-04-21T19:11:00.000-07:002011-04-21T19:53:38.883-07:00More than AbleSince I have been open to and aware of it, I found that very often God orchestrates multiple areas of my life to coincide. I say "very often" instead of "always" because I believe I interfere, resist or try to orchestrate this myself and end up missing His beautiful invitation to come and be Mary at his feet instead of Martha in the kitchen. I also say "since I've been aware of it" because I think our self-awareness is so great until about 20 that we cannot even hear other flesh and blood people when they talk to us over the incessant self-chatter going on in our souls and brains. But, maybe that's just me.<br /><br />At any rate, I remember first being acutely aware of the aligning of what had previously seemed incongruous pieces of my life into a beautiful "whole picture" my sophomore year of college (okay, I wasn't quite 20, but I also didn't acknowledge that the revelation wasn't all about me for years either). I was taking British Lit, World History and Old Testament that semester (along with other non-relevant classes). One week, my world history class ended up discussing the exact same time frame that pertained the book of the Bible we were covering in Old Testament and the over arching themes from both of those related to the essay assignment from Brit Lit. It was like waking up and realizing that the whole world had an order and I was just beginning to catch on. It was intoxicating! I began looking for interrelations between all of my classes every semester, and usually they did pertain to each other. Besides helping my be more witty and poignant on my essays in each class (I'm sure my Bible Prof is still confused about me quoting Beowulf in relation to Daniel facing Lions), I'm not sure I learned a lot of deep spiritual truths from creating my own "classical education model" of my classes. However, the trend has held true as God has spoken to me (not out-loud! for Heaven's sake! I would pass out) over the years since then.<br /><br />This jaunt down memory lane does have a point.<br /><br />God has done it again.<br /><br />But this time He's coordinating efforts between Jonathan and I to save time. I came back from our Madison visit 3 days before Jonathan. Partly because I couldn't bear to be away from my babies any more and partly because he needed to be able to focus at the conference he was attending. He went to Basic Training for Church Planters put on by the SWBA (I think...or maybe some other acronym I haven't learned yet). At the conference he had to develop and present a Vision and Core Values Statement for our church planting effort to Madison. We've been working on Mission Statement and Vision Statement over the last year, so I didn't expect a huge flux from those basic tenets. However, he came back all jazzed up about his class and vision statement and core values and the process by which he wants to plant and....you get the idea. (I know some reading this have never and will never meet Jonathan, but take my word for it, I married the one man on the planet who talks more than I do! He uses up his alotted word quota for the day and launches into mine!)<br /><br />This was exciting and inspirational and I wanted to take notes and make a slide show for him. The problem was that he flew in at 10:00 Wednesday night and left for a 76 hour shift at work at 8:00 Thursday morning. So, between kissing his boys goodnight, unpacking and re-packing his bag and letting him get a few hours of sleep, he didn't really get the time to sell me on the vision God gave him. He left with, "Tell you everything when I get back..." floating back to me from the receding Jeep.<br /><br />But God knows that we need to be on the same page. From (nearly) the start, we have been equally excited about and committed to this calling on our family. For that's what it is: a calling to our whole family. There is no such thing as the solitary church planter (unless he's single). The whole family plants. We all give til it hurts when it comes to Jesus. And that's how we want to be as a family. But there's only so many hours in a week and we run out of them before we run out things to do to reunite and revamp and re-energize (Mark Driscoll at Re:Surgence would be so proud of all my "re"s). So, God took matters into His own hands (where they should have been all along) and gave me my own crash course in vision.<br /><br />While we were in Wisconsin, Mark Millman had given us <span style="font-style: italic;">Transformational Church</span> by Ed Stetzer and Thom S. Rainer. I flew home with it and started reading it on the plane. Immediately I was gripped by the ideas presented and the passion displayed through their research of churches that are actually out there living the Gospel. Their emphasis on "heart for the community" really echoed with me. They talked about "relational intentionality" that had already been circling in my head. And their chapter on transformational leaders convicted and inspired me. I was so excited to share with Jonathan when we had a minute (haha).<br /><br />Well, we finally got that 15 minute window between sending the boys to play and someone crying and we sat down to talk. Jonathan launched into his pitch and it was eerie to me as I began hearing all the things that had stirred my heart over the last week. He showed me the diagram and shared the core values and they resonated with what all God had led me too from reading <span style="font-style: italic;">Transformational Church. </span>I felt such peace from knowing that we were already on the same track, already sharing the same brokenness and vision for Madison.<br /><br />On top of the book, my ladies Bible study has been going through 1 Peter and it landed squarely with what we are experiencing and praying for. We are being dispersed to go and spread the Gospel to the outer areas, way out of the Bible belt. And there will be trials and hardships and persecutions. But when we truly love Jesus and live out of that love, our love for the city of Madison will explode and our prayerful dependence on Him will lead us on the adventure of a lifetime. I'm so excited to walk with my husband, chasing Jesus down this path.<br /><br />Now, if we could just sell our house...Actually, it makes all the mundane stuff fall into perspective too. If I believe that "He who has called [us] is faithful" enough to implant the identical vision in Jonathan and I from 1700 miles apart, then I believe "he who began a good work in [us] will bring it to completion".<br /><br />"He makes my feet like hinds feet and makes me walk on my high places"planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-68499431080416908222011-04-18T19:36:00.001-07:002011-04-18T19:50:32.920-07:00WavesWaves of Mercy<br />Waves of Grace...<br />Doing the Wave...<br />Turns out lots of things come in waves.<br /><br />Like FEAR<br /><br />Keeps hitting me between the eyes that we are moving. Soon. 1700 miles away. I get overwhelmed and exhausted thinking about it. And silly us, we think we can plant a church! What if no one comes? What if we screw up royally? What if we fail? What if we make fools of ourselves? What if we make fools of God?<br /><br />The what if game sucks. And is futile.<br /><br />But you know what also comes in waves?<br /><br />Faith.<br /><br />That keeps hitting me in the spirit. As the whatifs are washing over me getting higher and higher and I start thinking that it all depends on me and someone made a huge mistake... here comes the faith. Not from me! ha! I don't have the faith of a mustard seed. But the "author and perfecter of my faith" sends out another wave and it lifts me up instead of drowning me. Or maybe it's that I let go and drown in it? I'm not sure which. I'll readily admit that "surrender" is not on my list of spiritual gifts. "Stubbornness" or maybe it was "mule-headed" came up at the top though.<br /><br />So, if you can wade through all my analogies, I'm experiencing the back-and-forth of freak-out vs. faith. I start thinking that I am the least likely person for this job. And God reminds me that He is the most likely person for the job, and He's doing it, not me. I realize that we are not independently wealthy and cannot afford to run off to Madison, WI to plant a church. God reminds me that He owns the cattle on a thousand hills and is funding this operation. I start thinking that no one in Madison will listen, no one will come. God reminds me that His sheep hear His voice.<br /><br />So, everyday I'm seeking Him. I'm learning that painful art of surrender and trust. I'm failing a lot and flailing a lot, and He keeps whispering, "My Grace is Sufficient for you, too Jennifer."<br /><br />So, bring on the waves!<br /><br />The Glory of it all is He came here<br />For the rescue of us all that we may live<br />For the Glory of it all!planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-31713443493367297232011-04-12T19:27:00.000-07:002011-04-12T20:05:27.503-07:00Mad about Madison!Well, it finally happened: I went to Madison.<br /><br />I know, I know. I've already packed my house and put it on the market; told all my friends, family and supporters we are going. We have already had one fund-raising campaign and are working on a second and I had NEVER EVEN SEEN THE PLACE!!!<br /><br />For one thing, I needed to wait til the snow melted! Didn't want to psyche myself out by going in 10 degree (or colder) weather for my first visit when I am definitely not prepared for that yet. Secondly, and I know this sounds Christian cheesy, but I really am following God on this one and not hunting for "America's Best Town to Live In". I went through a "God wants us to plant in New Zealand" stage. I was going to hike the road to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Mordor</span> for Jesus ;), but at this point, I was totally willing to move without ever visiting. But, alas, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Jonathan</span> said "No!" to that. Good husband.<br /><br />I fell in love the minute we stepped off the plane. It helped that it was 90 in Texas and 53 in Madison! Ha! However, Madison felt like coming home. It is this great mix of Boulder and Denver with a side of Golden thrown in. It's granola crunchy and high-end; it's University and Government; it's crunched housing and wide-open spaces; crazy traffic and Botanical Gardens. If you're a Texan it must sound just like Austin to you, but cooler (degree wise, not popularity--don't pull out your revolvers). But to be fair, it's totally it's own place. It's all Wisconsin and completely not Wisconsin (which we learned from the hard-working people of everywhere else in Wisconsin who said, "Madison, that's where the fruits and flakes live!").<br /><br />We landed at noon on Wednesday and got to have lunch at the Church Key Pub off State Street. To translate: We had lunch at a bar on 6<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">th</span> Street in Austin. Then we tooled around State street, went farther out on the Peninsula and looked at the city, drove up on campus and admired the architecture (to 2 grads of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">ACU</span> that was pretty amazing. our Alma mater thought that architecture consisted of stacking several blocks on top of each other with a roof and calling it good). The stateliness of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">UW</span> was breathtaking. However, on campus we ran into the Madison Welcoming Committee, aka the horn-honking sophomore in Daddy's graduation present for whom we were driving entirely too slow, and he introduced us to what appeared to be the state word, yelling it from his window at the top is his lungs. Later we saw it written on bumper stickers on the back of all the cars near the University! ;)<br /><br />Thursday we got to see more of Madison. We walked the Botanical Gardens, chatted with mom's on Willy Street near the co-op (think Vitamin Cottage or Sprouts or Trader Joe's), and visited the East Town Lake Mall. Out that far, you wouldn't know you weren't in Temple. Middle class is middle class pretty much everywhere. The difference being that "beg" here in Texas is when you ask for money and there it's something to put your groceries in ;)<br /><br />Friday we met with the Elders of River of Life and discussed our internship and got to view Portage a little more. That night I got to go to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ROL</span> chicks retreat. I finally got to meet my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Facebook</span> friends face-to-face. It was great. Those women are wonderful and I am so excited and blessed to be getting to be a part of their lives soon!<br /><br />Saturday we had a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">SWBA</span> meeting. If you don't know what that means, it's really just code for "other Jesus followers in Wisconsin". I met some wonderful men and women who are truly passionate about spreading the Gospel and equipping pastors to reach Wisconsin for Jesus. It was such a blessing to network there, not politically but passionately. We are NOT lone wolves in trying to plant the Gospel in Madison. We need support, supporters and a support network. Church planting is a team sport! And we are blessed!<br /><br />Then we got to party for Bob's birthday Saturday night! Cookout and family fun with some of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">ROL</span> and the Turners. They are so warm and loving. I have to admit, this was when it was nearly physically painful for me to be away from my boys. I missed them so badly. Everyone else at the party had kids and I only had to fix a plate for me! It was surreal! ha!<br /><br />Sunday was breath-taking. We worshipped with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">ROL</span>. When I say that I mean it in all it's glory. The people at that church know what it means to "glorify God and enjoy Him". They sang with all their hearts, some songs I had never heard and some I hadn't sung since college. The children danced for joy and participated in worship. Bob spoke the Gospel in a way that really connected with my heart <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">and</span> it was so nurturing to be a part of that body of Christ.<br /><br />Returning home was bittersweet. I really have begun to love Wisconsin. I am entranced with <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">the</span> idea of beginning to meet people and build relationships there. I can't wait to visit story-time at their library, take my kids to the Botanical Gardens, join a good <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">homeschooling</span> co-op and begin to do life with the people of Madison. But I also realized the reality of leaving. I am truly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">going</span> to be 1700 miles away from all I've ever known. I'm going to be leaving my best friends (all by my very <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">bestest</span>, Jonathan). I'm going to be out of my comfort zone. I don't even know what the major grocery chain is there! But God really placed Romans 12:1-2 on my heart.<br /><blockquote></blockquote><blockquote>"I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. <sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-28232">2</sup> Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect."<br /></blockquote>I realize that living out this calling IS offering my body as a living sacrifice. I am sacrificing what I WANT for what I NEED, which is to "glorify God and enjoy Him forever". Even when it doesn't feel very enjoyable at times. Even when I know I'm going to be horribly lonely for awhile. Even when I know my kiddos are <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">going</span> to cry and mourn for their far-away family and friends. Even though I have no idea if/when my house will sell, we will raise enough support or <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Jonathan</span> will get a good bi-vocational job. I am letting my mind be renewed by the truth that this is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">God's</span> calling, God's planing, God's watering, and God's growth. He will do His good and perfect will. His heart is for Madison. He is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">calling</span> His sheep there.<br /><br />Please pray for us and for Madison on this journey. And <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">pray</span> for the other pastors already there fighting the good fight, enduring suffering, doing the work of evangelists and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">fulfilling</span> their ministry. It's not sexy and glorious. It's "living sacrifice". And it's totally worth it!<br /><br />PS. Big shout out thanks to Bob and Alisha (but especially Alisha) Turner for hosting us in their home. They were amazing and generous and their girls are AWESOME!! Can't wait to see them every week and do life together!planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-39749849697120886782011-03-05T20:01:00.001-08:002011-03-05T20:01:35.491-08:00PrayersI'm going through a prayer guide that Jonathan bought in college: Guide To Prayer put out by <a href="http://www.upperroom.org">www.upperroom.org</a>. Reflective reading for today from Prayers for the Christian Year by William Barclay:<br>O God, our Father, we know our own weakness. <br> Our minds are darkened, <br> and by ourselves we cannot find and know the truth. Our wills are weak, <br> and by ourselves we cannot resist temptation, or bring to its completion that which we resolve to do. <br>Our hearts are fickle, <br> and by ourselves we cannot give to you the loyalty which is your due. <br>Our steps are faltering, <br> and by ourselves we cannot walk in your straight way.<br>So this day we ask you,<br>To enlighten us,<br>To strengthen us,<br>To guide us,<br>That we may know you, and love you, and follow you all the days of our life. <br>Give to your church your blessing and your protection. <br>Guide her in her thinking,<br> that she may be saved from the heresies<br> which destroy the faith. <br>Strengthen her witness,<br> that she may bring no discredit on the name she bears. <br>Inspire her in her fellowship,<br> that those who enter her may find within her your friendship and the friendship of their fellow men. <p>This really spoke to my heart. <p><br>Sent from my iPhoneplanterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-77183834791025666462011-02-19T14:50:00.000-08:002011-02-19T15:04:02.145-08:00Packing up the Dreams God PlantedHa! I couldn't resist a good Michael W. Smith lyric. I am indeed packing. Yes already. I only have 4 months til "Move Day" and we have a LARGE house full of STUFF! What's interesting is how much I'm giving away.<br /><br />I come from a family of nearly diagnosable "hoarders". My father is certifiable. Not only does he hoard is own stuff on grounds of: it might be useful someday, I paid good money for it 20 years ago, what if I run out of ______ and need to use parts from this to fix it, hey it was on sale, and it was perfectly good still. You can imagine what a catastrophe my house was growing up. We had 2, two, sheds in our yard to hold all the junk we couldn't hold in our house. However, his hoarding doesn't stop there. He is also the last of his immediate and even mostly extended family. So he is now the designated hoarder of all of their stuff too. It may be true that you can't take it with you when you go, but you can certainly leave it to someone reliable who will put it in excellent cardboard boxes and keep it til Jesus comes back for it.<br /><br />Why does this affect me? Two reasons: one, I'm related to him, so I have a hard time throwing anything away; two, he lives with us (til May 21st). So, I've been sorting, purging, dumping, giving and labeling. I'm proud to announce I have given away at least as much as I have kept which is a huge step for me. It's freeing to realize, if I don't love it enough to haul it to Madison, I don't love it. It's also freeing to realize that I can always buy another if I ever need it again.<br /><br />I'm also employing a "Duggar" technique to my packing. I'm numbering every box, then on a likewise numbered index card, I'm listing the contents. That way, if between now and June, I need to read one of my 20 Stephen King books, I can easily find them.<br /><br />What's been harder is sorting the books and clothes. I hold onto everything. I still have my college class notes. From. Every. Class. I'm just sure I'll need to see the number of vertebrae a sea otter has again at some point. I held onto them initially because, by George, they stood for a lot of work! A simply GPA on a transcript did not account for all the information I had systematically written down, taken in and regurgitated on countless tests. Later, I held on to them (and moved them to several different locales) because I intend on homeschooling. So they are a great resource, right? Maybe not. Maybe there's this little thing called the internet, and a big thing called a library where I can look up any info I happen to need. And most likely more accurate being that my college notes are now (ahem) over 10 years old. So, out with the notebooks.<br /><br />Baby clothes have proven equally has difficult. I have 3 boys, and it has already been a blessing to keep clothes as hand-me-downs. I haven't had to buy hardly any clothes for any of boys. However, I do not want to move boxes and boxes of little boy clothes to Madison. So, I'm sorting. I'm purging what is not REALLY special, or in GREAT condition. And onesies don't count. I can buy a 10 pack at Walmart, so I give away, give away, give away. Pray for my purging~<br /><br />However, in direct contrast to purging and packing, I went to the $5 bag sale at Salvation Army today. All the clothes that will fit in a bag for only $5! And guess what I found....SNOW PANTS!! I'm so excited! They are little big for Judah, but hey, he'll grow into them and have PLENTY of opportunity to wear them in the years to come. What a great find!planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-4949539913789411482011-02-15T11:54:00.000-08:002011-02-19T17:19:54.132-08:00Becoming my Mother-In-Law; Or How the Master of the Universe taught me to Follow the LeaderSo, I have a mother-in-law. I'm sure you figured that out by me being married. And for the most part, I don't necessarily want to emulate her. It's nothing personal; I don't want to emulate my own mother. If you know my background, that is no surprise, so let me say that I further do not want to emulate my Daddy or father-in-law, as great as they are. I really want to strive to only emulate Christ in my parenting (ironic, since He was never a parent, but you get the picture). There was plenty that my parents and my husband's parents did right: they loved me, they fed me, they clothed and educated me, they supported my dreams, set boundaries, took me to church. However, there was a lot left to be desired in their parenting approach as well. Let me explain.<br /><br />I was born in 1981. Go ahead and laugh. I'm either "so young" or "so old" depending on which side of my facebook friends you are on. But those are the facts, ma'am. I'm an 80's baby. Which means, I was born into a very unique generation. We were essentially the first (of a long line) of babies raised by proxy. I was a daycare baby and my family was duel-income. Women's lib had won one for the team, though I feel like the only thing they really got liberated from was their kids. It was definitely a "ME" generation: Have babies to feel good about yourself, then stick them in daycare so you can go back to your career climbing to feel good about yourself. And there was born the daycare-latchkey generation. And really, that set the pace for women for the last 30 years because now, you nearly can't afford to NOT be duel income. There's very little choice left. The cost of living has sky-rocketed and now women who long to be home, have to go to work. So, I have very distinct memories of daycare (good and terrible) and very few memories of home.<br /><br />The 80's are also the "Self-Esteem" era. Our precious self views had to be protected at all costs. There was very little reprimand that addressed the person cause we might injure the psyche. So, I grew up being told constantly that I was wonderful, smart, beautiful and a treasure. Don't get me wrong. I tell my kids all the same stuff. But I don't cushion the blow when they have reveal their selfish ugly inner self and we have to deal with it. We keep a sharp perspective on their depravity and the fact that they can't clean themselves up or will themselves better. They need Jesus. But my parents both grew up in a Self-Righteousness Gospel background where you earn your way up, and God is lucky to have you on His team.<br /><br />However, my mother-in-law was different. She was a nurse, but she worked nights and was at home during the day. And she had two "sets" of kids about 10 years apart. So my husband was never in daycare. Either his mom was there or he was working on the farm with his dad or his older brother and sister were there. And whatever might have come later, my mother-in-law was an excellent disciplinarian. Not only did she make them toe the line, but she was creative. One time my brother-in-law flipped her off, so she duct-taped his hands (both of them) to where the middle finger was the only one he could use for a whole day. I don't think my brother-in-law has ever given the bird again. Another time my husband and his little sister were fighting, so she duct-taped them together (she liked duct tape) and they had to learn to get along before they could be apart. Believe me, I'm taking notes!<br /><br />But I think one my husbands most distinct memories is of watching Saturday morning cartoons, and his mother "ruining" them for him. He LOVED He-man! Loved Him. Had the Grayskull castle and all the action figures. When it came on, he and Michael (older brother) would race to the TV and chant the theme. "By the Power of Grayskull...He-man, and the Master of the Universe" And every time, without fail, his mother would holler from the kitchen, "Jonnie, who's the real Master of the Universe?" Jonathan would roll his little eyes and yell, "God, mom!" in an annoyed tone of voice.<br /><br />I cannot tell you how many times we have laughed about that over the years. It's an inside joke for us and we have thoroughly enjoyed it.<br /><br />Then Jonathan found the Full Gospel and became a church planter. Part of having our eyes opened to the depth of our depravity and the greater depth of the Father's Love for us, by no merit of our own, is that the Bible has changed. It's not a bunch of individual stories that lead up to or away from a defining moment of Jesus. Every story is Jesus. Every story is the Redemption story. And not just in the Bible. Every story everywhere tells the Gospel. There is always a protagonist, an antagonist and something gone terribly awry that must be set right. It has made Bible reading way more fun, but it has also caused us to find whispers of Jesus everywhere. And our kids books, stories and movies are not exempt from this.<br /><br />So, last night I was tucking my boys into bed, kissing, praying, and singing. The lights were out, final good-nights said, and I go back to my room. They of course were not asleep, but talking and singing still. Currently my boys are obsessed with Peter Pan. They discovered Hook and can't get enough. So they are signing, "We're Following the Leader, the leader, the leader, we're following the leader wherever he may go," from the Disney movie. At the top of their lungs. Non-stop. For Five Minutes. I finally went in there and called time. Judah says, "But mom! We're just singing Peter Pan Song: Following the Leader!" I told him, "I know, but it's time to go to sleep now. Besides, who is our real leader?" Judah and Gideon know this cue by now and say, "Jesus!" I said, "That's right, and we will follow Him wherever He may go! Goodnight!"<br /><br />Then I turned around and laughed out-loud that I had turned into my mother-in-law. She may not have had all the theology books to back it up, but she knew how to Gospel her kids and protect them from false doctrine in TV shows. Bravo Mom!planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3178550940217057614.post-78009337995278876342011-02-09T14:25:00.000-08:002011-02-09T14:40:46.254-08:00InsaneJonathan and I were standing in the kitchen the other night talking about selling our house. We are selling our house because we are moving in 4 months (4 months!!! Oh my goodness!) to Madison Wisconsin to plant a church. Now, if we'd known we were going to be church planters, we wouldn't have...well, we wouldn't have a lot of things: quit our job before raising support, bought a project house to only keep for 3 years, gotten so attached to this place! But alas, God uses the ordinary lives of his ordinary people to accomplish His extraordinary purposes, and here we are.<br /><br />So, back on track, we're chatting house presentation: let's paint the kitchen, but not worry about the bathroom; we should level the house, but not replace that terrible chandelier in the entryway, etc. We bought this house for its potential, potential that we will not realize fully before we sell it to someone else. I was glancing at the living room, thinking how lovely it will look when someone knocks out that extra wall, puts in an island, makes it into one large "multi-purpose" room and it hit me: WE ARE INSANE!!!<br /><br />We own a home. We have friends. We have TWO life groups that we like. Our kids have friends. We like Judah's school. We have dreams for our house. Jonathan likes his job. I like staying home. We have struggled and striven to get where we are: the middle of the "American Dream" and now we are chucking it all to move to Madison Wisconsin and try to tell some people about Jesus. Ha! That's crazy talk! .<br /><br />I laughed and told Jonathan we are crazy. He said, "Yes Ma'am. This is definitely for love of the Gospel. This makes no sense by earthly standards and we are going to get hit by the people who love us the most who are afraid that we are losing our minds or being reckless. We have to be all in!" I'm reminded of a (semi-cheesy) Steven Curtis Chapman song (I'm nearly always reminded of a song):<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">We will abandon it all<br />For the sake of the Call<br />No other reason at all<br />But the sake of the Call<br />Wholly devoted to live and to die<br />For the sake of the Call<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The fact that I wrote that entirely from memory should be a good indication of how that has been impressed upon my brain.<br /><br />So here we go: Burn the Ships!<br /></div></div>planterswifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07285498982990084426noreply@blogger.com0