Jesus doesn't love you more for your home and health insurance plan

Crystal clear reality today that it does not matter what we eat, drink, or wear, or even if we have a home to live in...those things are not eternal. What matters is a person's soul, is their heart tied to Jesus, are they resting in the grace of Jesus, know He loves them dearly as his beloved. Helped feed 200 homeless people today with my two oldest children and what I walked away thinking about were these things. It's their soul I care about most. We feed their bodies, but it is the message of the saving grace of God and His love for them that matters most. Nothing else matters really. Nothing is eternal but that.

I've worked with the homeless before. I've done 'sidewalk' ministry, talked to people on the streets of Denver and countless conversations with homeless people in Austin over a six year period. In fact, today we drove past a man at a corner and I swear I recognized him from six years ago.

(Oh, and by the way, we ate before we got there. My kid asked if we were eating the chili too. I said no, this was for them, we were to eat before leaving and they wouldn't eat while we were there. We were there to serve them for two hours and not serve ourselves, that we'd get a snack afterwards once we left. So when you go out to serve, remember that. Don't go into a service project expecting special treatment or any kind of service to YOU for your kindness. Service is always about emptying yourself and denying yourself. It means sacrifice. Turn off your phone. Don't ask for your plate of food and don't expect someone to thank you. It's not about you. It's about the ones you serve. Period.)

It's easy to say many negative things about homeless people. Until you meet them. I began taking middle school students on homeless meal deliveries years ago. And today I took my kids with me and partnered with Thomas Wright Ministries in Austin, TX with the non-profit I work for, Passion Missions. This was the first time I saw so many homeless assembled together. They had worshiped as they do every Saturday at the North Door Club in east Austin. We had prepared plates and the kids and I were servers, ushering food along with other volunteers. While I've met with homeless people before and had long faith-conversations before and even prayed with homeless men and women, I've only gathered with at the most four at a time. Seeing close to 200 people gathered in worship, all homeless, and then served food with my children, I was struck by the following thoughts that shook my understanding of my 'role' in their life. Here are the questions and thoughts in no particular order.

1. It really doesn't matter if they have a home or not. You probably think I'm a nut saying this. Why would I say this. I mean, I have a home, and isn't it my Christian duty to help them find a home too? Isn't that what life is about? Having a home, being warm, having things and security and safety?

2. Who am I to think my way of life is better? Yes this thought surprised me too. The awesome aspect of the Thomas Wright Ministries that is unique is that his ministry knows how to help them get off the streets and into a stable living condition again. Thomas Wright knows how to reach them and motivate them. He knows because he was homeless once. He is unique because his ministry works to get them off the streets. So yes, it matters because we ought to provide options. But if a person has no motivation or just 'isn't at that place' yet to get off the street, who am I to judge them and condemn them and turn my back on them? Which leads me to my next thought.

3. Whether they live on the street or in a 1.5 million dollar home on Lake Travis, their soul has an eternal destination which doesn't discriminate on their living conditions in this earthly life.

4. Jesus said "If you confess with your mouth and believe in your heart that Jesus is Lord, you will be saved." He didn't say "If you have a job and pay for health insurance and buy your groceries at HEB and take a shower daily, pay taxes, and live in a shelter that is considered acceptable housing by the standards of American comforts, then you will be saved. In fact, most of the world lives in condition that any American would think is horrendous and unacceptable. Most of the world doesn't have health insurance. Many in the world don't take a bath daily. Many in the world are glad to have one meal a day. Many in the world pray the mosquitos don't give them malaria and that they won't die, orphaning their child to be taken into the child armies that exist outside the safety of America.

I'm not condoning the homeless lifestyle. I'm also not condemning it. Jesus spends a whole lotta time rebuking church leaders and I'm scratching my head right now trying to think of a scenario where he rebuked someone for begging. In fact, the stories I think of where he interacted with beggars, he is healing them. Even Peter told the beggars at the temple gate "Silver or gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.” (Acts 3) What we see if Jesus, while concerned for physical needs, was always far more concerned as was Peter, with someone's soul, their heart, healing their spiritual brokenness. That's what he cared about.

I have been guilty of thinking as a Christian my job is to fix others and their messed-upness. I fall into this a LOT. I'm not proud of it, but I think it's how we're wired. We want to get others to look like us, act like us, live like us. It's really just one big control-freak show. You can look at our government and see this philosophy in our foreign policy. But that's for another day.

I would love to see every homeless person off the streets and homelessness eradicated. Who wouldn't? Do I think they work the system and know how to work the system. Well of course. Duh. I also don't think they love their lifestyle and are necessarily proud of it. In all my conversations over the years, I've met people with all kinds of stories, some which leave you scratching your head wondering how they ended up on the street and why don't they just get off the street. Is it my job to get them off the street? No, not at this point, I'm not called to do that. But I am called to feed the hungry. I am called to help those in need. I am called more importantly to show people what Jesus looks like with how I serve them. Do I do this well? Oh my gosh, no. Frankly I suck at it most days. Especially with my kids. In my own comfy home. I suck at showing them Jesus' love. Or for you former students of mind, I vacuum (since suck was a word I outlawed and replaced with vacuum).

But an event like today, that eye-opening needs to happen. That's why I dragged my kids there. They need it. It's our job to open their eyes to the needs of others and to protect them from cynicism and prejudice. It's our job to teach them that sharing the Gospel, showing Jesus through our actions, is their job too. It's our job to train them what Jesus with skin on looks like. They won't learn that from video games, secular music, and tv programs... and the media certainly doesn't want them to ever learn that.

If a person gets off the street and gets stable housing and develops a self-esteem so they can be a productive member of society (in the eyes of society), then that's awesome, God be praised!!!!! But if they know Jesus, God be praised and glorified even MORE! That is what matters. That. And truly nothing else. And I could argue now that Jesus is clear in his command to use the gifts and talents we have and not waste them, etc. And that the homeless are wasting their lives, etc. But here's the thing--those are matters of the work of the HOLY SPIRIT, not ME. Those are Holy Spirit matters--things that He works out with that person in their heart AFTER they've come to salvation and are seeking to know him. So you see, it's not as easy as you think, and it's pretty arrogant to see them as lazy fools that just need to get their act together and get help. Go spend some time with them. Listen to them. See them with the eyes of Jesus. Talk to them but listen more. Listen the way Jesus would. Think about how Jesus sees them. How Jesus' heart breaks for them. How Jesus wants to heal them, clothe them, feed them, but most of all, He wants to love them. And He wants their love back.

Top of my Gratitude List? Oxygen, Food, and Shelter

As a kid I would hear my parents talk about their thankfulness that we were healthy and the other usual list of things one ought to be thankful for. My child's mind thought how boring this all sounded. While always longing to be older (isn't that how it is for most kids), being an adult also sounded boring. Adults were thankful for boring things. And they never really got excited about their own birthdays. I could tell that they didn't anticipate Santa coming the way that I did. And their focus on the true meaning of Christmas, albeit the ONLY reason one should celebrate Christmas, seemed boring too. Pious. So mature. I was a kid and I remember not looking forward to becoming an adult because I knew somewhere along the way, I would put childish ways behind me, whether I wanted to or not. What I was feeling as a tug inside me was actually the Holy Spirit doing His work in me, as Paul describes in 1 Corinthians 13. "When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me."

Even as I became an adult, I still struggled to find gratitude in the things of life that really matter. I knew that my gratitude needed to be focused on heavenly treasures, not things of this world, but I could not help but fixate on earthly things. Thus the war that wages in our spirits--the struggle between the flesh and our spirit. Put simply, as Paul did so well as well...the things I should be thankful for, I am sort of, but the things that don't really matter, those are the things lust for. In my struggle between saint and sinner, I found myself grateful certainly for things of God, but continued to not feel the gratitude I had seen my parents express so many times for. Air, Food, and Water. Basic elements of survival.

Remember learning that in elementary school? I remember the most random things from elementary school. I remember that I could not for a million dollars understand syllable stress marks, although ironically my first B.A. is in English and I'm a grammar nerd. I remember learning the parts of an insect and that the thorax is its middle section. And I remember learning basic computer skills on the beloved computer learning game The Oregon Trail. Somewhere in there I learned fractions and geography and that a massive explosion had gone off in a far-away place called Chernobyl. I remember seeing photos of children sitting under sun lamps. I'm not sure if we were learning about nuclear winters or these were children of Chernobyl that were indoors for fear of radiation levels. Those are the things that stick out in my mind. And for whatever reason, it must have been important for me to remember that we only need three basic things to survive as humans. Notice I said survive. These are survival elements, not elements needed for thriving. Maybe there were more than three taught because I googled it and now there are five basics for survival: Oxygen, Water, Food, Shelter, and Sleep.

Sleep. I could write my gratitude on that one alone as a mom of three kids. But what I find most important to share on this Thanksgiving eve is my level of gratitude has increased in recent months for these basic thing that I watched others express gratitude for and I wondered how to develop that gratitude.

I'm not sure if there was a particular event in the last year that has opened my eyes. I know that having children certainly raised my awareness of what things truly matter in life. Two of the items I pray for in deep gratitude every day with my children listening is food and shelter. I also include health and warm beds to sleep in. I suppose those two are essentially thriving elements since a person can survive, even in poor health, and warm beds are a luxury item. But in this country, a warm bed, a dry home, an insect-free home, antibiotics available everywhere, and food in excess at every street corner (yes, I constitute a convenient store as 'excess' when you compare it to a 3rd world country).

I see the sheer physical wealth of my life in the simplicity of a roof over my head and sleeping at night without fear of a military invasion. I do not fear bearing a female child, only to be executed for having borne a female, as the women in Pakistan have been (56 were killed in 2013 for their 'crime' of birthing a female baby). I put my children to bed, giving thanks they are warm and dry and snug as little bugs in a rug and am filled with thanksgiving to God that he has given us this for our children. He doesn't have to. He doesn't have to give me a thing. The very fact that I have oxygen to breathe is a gift from Him. I do not deserve one single thing that I possess. One.Single.Thing. None of it. I've done absolutely nothing to deserve my friends, my family, my job, my gifts, my talents, my children, or my husband. Quite the contrary, I have lived a life that is deserving of none of these things. And so have you.

Each of us deserves nothing He has given us. The very fact that I get into my car every day and drive all around town and we have a system in place with lights and stop signs to keep us from all running into each other is a gift from God. If we truly were permitted by God to see all the spiritual craziness that our earthly eyes are not privy to, we would see in alarming detail all the harm we are daily, hourly, by the minute, spared. What if the 'bad' in this world is only a fraction of all the evil that really exists? Let that sink in. Let me say it again. What if the 'bad' things that happen, the atrocities that news outlets report daily, the horrors that those 56 women experienced in Pakistan (not to mention what has happened to their daughters), the pedophiles that seem to run rampant, the abortion clinics that claimed 300,000 babies in 2013 in the US alone...what if all those things were just a teeny, tiny portion of the evil that actually exists in this world and we are actually being spared every minute of what really is 'out there.'

I no longer want to be complacent, living life and not fully appreciating all that I've been granted, completely undeserved. It is too easy to say I deserve this or that based on what I've done to earn it. I am deeply grateful for the people who came to this land to settle and escape religious persecution. Those humans were a pious people who trusted God. They were not perfect though. History has shown their errors and our country continues to be run by broken people. That's the reality of sin. But I also know that the wealth of this country is not an accident. The Lord has blessed this nation because it was a nation that sought His face, His ways. I pray each night that God will continue to bless this nation despite that it appears to be turning its back on Him. I cry out to God that there are still some righteous people left who want to follow Him, want to seek His face, and to spare this country of calamity. Our country is deserving of calamity at this point in history. And that is a travesty. So I continue to beg Him to protect us and I continue to pray for those who refuse to. I continue to pray in their stead and ask for His mercy on our nation, even though we absolutely don't deserve it. Not when we celebrate debt, divorce, sexual promiscuity, sexual deviance, and the killing of 300,000 babies this year in the name of women's rights. No, we don't deserve His mercy. But I plead with Him for it. Because if history is to repeat itself, and I look to the Bible for that history, I fear for the country my children will grow up in. And I pray each night that their faith would be so rock solid that they would be faithful to the point of death.

I think a part of me is filled with such love and adoration for what God has given me that I never want Him to think I'm not grateful. He doesn't need my adoration though. He doesn't demand my gratitude as part His saving grace in my life. I know that. But when you love someone, and you appreciate them and love them more for how they care for you, don't you just find yourself wanting to make sure a day never goes by where they don't know how much you love them? That's the relationship Jesus loves having with me. That's the God I love and I know no matter what I have a heavenly Father who loves me very much. Very much. Without limit. So I find myself wanting to make sure He knows how much I appreciate Him and His provision in my life. Not because He will love me for doing so, but because He delights in his children adoring Him. Simply put, it makes Him happy. And even when I don't make him happy, He loves me anyway. That's unconditional love. But what joy I find in making Him happy by having a great big love fest every day thanking Him.

So this Thanksgiving, I'm grateful for God's mercy on the United States. I am grateful for all the resources He gives us and that extends to even the poorest of the United States. Because even the poorest of this nation are still among the wealthiest in the world. Wrap your mind around that.  I'm grateful for my children's health. I'm grateful for their safety. I'm grateful for the faith my parents instilled in me and modeled for me. I'm deeply grateful for all the prayers my parents lifted for me and the untold number of prayers said for me by others who I might never even know prayed. Prayer is our most powerful weapon. It is a sacred gift, a lifeline to Jesus the Healer. Jehovah Jireh. The LORD Will Provide. The LORD will meet my every need. My every need. Not my every want. Not my every luxury. Not what I want above what I need. Simply what I need.

The KMart Jingle Bells Ad Must Have Feminists Rejoicing

I feel like one of two women I know who watched the KMart Jingle Bells commercial and was embarrassed and hated every second I had to endure it. It was like a train wreck. I wanted to look away and yet I found myself starting at the sight of these ridiculous men showing off their pelvic thrusts.

For feminists, this commercial is one to rejoice over. I mean, what woman doesn't like the idea of men being objectified and laughed over. If you are one of those women who was actually aroused by the commercial, I suggest you drink a glass of wine and ask yourself why feeling power over a man and actually laughing at him turns you on?

About now you probably are rolling your eyes at me and think I'm some self-righteous twit who needs to a good time shown to her. Folks, I have had three children with my husband. Trust me, I know what a good time is, and I don't find men shaking their 'junk' that arousing or even remotely funny.

Feminists have been demanding equality for decades. Well, women, you got it. We have allowed the media to objectify us for decades and have raged against it. In fact, a recent viral video that I truly loved by Jae Tracie called 'How to Twerk (not what you think)' had women all over facebook and YouTube rejoicing at her message. She was very clear in the video that if you were going to twerk, you should throw out your self-respect, your self-worth, and be prepared to invite the kind of man who only wants skanky women. So where am I going with this? Well this video certainly made women very PROUD to be respectable women who want to portray themselves as women deserving of the respect of others. However this cute little KMart commercial was praised by the SAME women who praised this video by Jae Tracie. How did I arrive at this conclusion? You guessed it--simple--I see my friends on facebook praising Tracie's video and turning around and praising the KMart ad. Where is the outrage over the KMart ad? Feminists--you got equality alright. You want to revert back to men objectifying women? LET'S DO THIS! Let's objectify men but guess what!? It works both ways. It's time to let the men objectify us again--they already do it in the media, so why not support the objectification of women and all make videos of us twerking in nothing but our underwear?

Don't like my sarcasm? How is it that over my nearly 1000 facebook friends, only ONE had a negative comment about the KMart ad? And before you decide that I'm some silly prude who is old and boring, trust me, I'm not. I could share plenty of stupid things I've done and am ashamed of. I've been there and done that. What I'm aggravated is that if the KMart video is acceptable, then we as women need to be okay with the equality of men and women which would include women being objectified. And don't even get me started on the Magic Mike craziness.

I stared at those silly men and was embarrassed. Why? Because I only have eyes for my HUSBAND. I'm not going to sit next to him and disrespect him by finding those men shaking their 'junk' as cute and a turn-on. It's anything BUT that to me. Was it creative? Sure. Am I being overreactive? Maybe you think so. But if women want to be treated equally as men, well, this video that we've rejoiced over gives liberty to objectify women too in the name of equal rights and equal treatment. Treat the men like meat and treat the women like meat. Equal.

This is the double-standard that is so ingrained in our society. I heard a female barista flippantly say in front of many customers at Starbucks recently something that I was embarrassed to hear. She was talking to a male barista and said loudly for all to hear, "Oh sorry--you're a guy. You can't do two things at once." I was horrified by her public sexism. She then joked, "Oh come on. You know women can't drive. So there. We're even." Seriously? It's okay for HER to demean a man but if HE had said exactly what she had said, she could file harassment charges and he would be raked across the coals for his sexist comment.

Women--we are contributing to this problem. I am. You are. If we support men dancing around and shaking their junk for a FAMILY ad, we should expect the same treatment. I saw a clip of a talk show this morning (Bethenny) while I was working out and there was a group of men in Santa Claus boxer shorts. That was it. You know what they looked like to me? Court Jesters. Except there is one distinction between the court jesters of Medieval times and the jokers I saw on TV this morning. The Medieval court jesters entertained based on their BRAIN, their wit, their intellect. They were well-respected for their ability to even be confidants to some of the noblemen. They were elaborately dressed, not scantily clad. Their entire purpose was entertainment through the use of INTELLECT. The men on the KMart commercial and the men on Bethenny this morning did not use their brain to attract attention. No, they merely used the physical appearance, not too different from a female baboon showing its swollen rear to attract her mate (not too unlike a recent celebrity on the MTV awards). So there you have it. We have reduced our ability to attract to that of base animals. Why bother with the intellect we've been given, the ability to reason, which sets us apart from animals, when we can just shake our junk and twerk our booties? And hey, it's all equal then. Equality. Ah yes, we've achieved so much.

Harmony lost and found

I typically blog with an editor on my shoulder, my not-so-subtle subconscious coaxing me to tailor my words, my thoughts, put a sophisticated and insightful spin on things, but I'm going to make an unhindered attempt to capture some of my thoughts tonight. My how my thoughts have taken hold of every part of me this last week. There is too much back-story so I'll try to get to unfolding plot in my mind.

We returned last Tuesday from our annual trip away from our kids. Every year we face the same struggle to integrate back into our kids' lives and their loose summer schedule. I go from zero responsibilities to all responsibilities. It's overwhelming. I was gone roughly five days, only four of which I did not see my children. I was blissfully happy without them. There. I said it. I was wonderfully content in my mountain resort world where I had uninterrupted time with my husband and completely paid no attention to the time, position of the sun in the sky, whether I was hungry or not, and absolutely reveled in self-absorption. It was addictive. I read. I hiked. I swam. I sunbathed. I read. I swam. I took a dip. Repeat. I stared into oblivion on the porch when I paused from my reading.

Even as I type this, I've got that damn obnoxious editor on my shoulder whispering what I should and shouldn't type out. But if I want other mothers to know they're not alone, then I have to put it out there and trust no one is going to judge me and shake their head that I'm some lost woman.

We returned to our children and I was thrilled to see them. As were they. They were jubilant. So overcome that all three were in a wrestling pile on the living room floor. And quickly I was back in the middle of my real life. A life I adore. A life I wouldn't trade for anything. A life that has no price. A life that is filled with sacrifice. And I was not prepared Tuesday night that I had a revelation of sorts in Colorado that would unfold over the next few days.

I really enjoyed five days of no responsibilities. Really, really, really enjoyed it. What struck me Wednesday morning as I got back into the routine (whatever that is since it's summer and the kids had VBS) was that David and I spend so much time truly alone in Colorado, that I got a taste again of life before kids. And that was way back at the beginning of our marriage. I started ticking back in my mental calendar that eighteen months into our young marriage, I became pregnant. It struck me that for the last nine years, I have been pregnant or nursing and wrangling small children, and serving their every need. Because that is what a mother does. She tends to every meal, every snack, and the list goes on and on. When I think of the time that David and I have had alone, it is a fraction of our marriage. Colorado made me feel very independent of my children for the first time since having children. They have always been a thought away but this trip, for some reason, I lost track of time and truly was self-absorbed and nearly felt like David and I were a newlywed couple again. We didn't talk about the kids the entire time. We allowed ourselves to be us, 24/7 who we were when we met. Of course, those two crazy young lovers are still in these Mommy and Daddy selves, but the music of our daily life is three cute little messy kids who we adore and would give our lives for. The music of our unique personhood is not the main melody anymore. Our children are the melody. And it's a sweet score to our play. I wouldn't change that. But what wonder to remember that behind the melody is a intricate harmony written long before our children were born, before David and I even met.

I am not listening to the harmony enough. I'm not appreciating the harmony. The harmony is what I must return to because it is what makes me a strong parent. Parenting is the most draining job I've ever done. I've done this job working full-time. I've done this job with no other source of income. And I've done this job and continue to do this job with a work-from-home job. All three scenarios are equally difficult for different reasons. When I worked full time, my melody wasn't my children; it was my affair with my career. So whether a woman has a career, children, or both, when she continues to focus only on that sweet melody that gives her joy and meaning and purpose and forgets her uniqueness, created in the image of God, she can easily get lost in the melody and lose a sense of who she is outside of career or children or both. I propose this overwhelming melody has to be tuned outside sometimes because it causes...for lack of a better word...burnout. Frankly the melody matters and must be the overriding theme because parenting is important and trumps the selfish needs we each long to indulge in. Parenting, at least one that is based on unconditional love and concern for the child, is the most selfless role I have ever claimed. Or perhaps the role claimed me. When I returned from Colorado, I realized that I had let the role of parent and even my part-time business claim me far too often and had not been taking enough breaks over these years to reclaim the harmony in my life, time to remember who I am, apart from my kids, time to remember my relationship with my husband, apart from our children. It struck me that my kids drain me because I allow them to. My identity has too blended in with my children and that distinction is critical to staying sane while raising children.

It is a casual slope into this blending pool, swirling of self, unique individual, and mommyhood. It is inevitable. It happens. The joke is our bodies aren't our own once we're pregnant. And even after baby is born, I know my body continued to be overtaken by my kids when one is hanging onto my leg and another is jumping on my back. That's me. I'm the Mama. Every so often though, to keep from getting lost in that whirlpool, I've gotta come out of it and remember who I am. I had forgotten how fantastic it is to self-indulge. That is what we did before kids. My gracious were we indulgent and lazy. And when kids enter the wonderful dynamic of your marriage, it's all about them, as it should be. But if Mama and Daddy aren't shedding those titles often enough, it's so easy to get lost in that whirlpool and let the children, er, the sweet melody, rule the roost.

I returned with a distinct clarity that my struggle to take on my daily responsibilities again was because I had forgotten how fun it is to be self-indulgent or David-indulgent, whatever you want to call it. And to be the best at our parenting, we needed to indulge more than one week a year. I was able to return to my responsibilities with the kids and distinguish myself from them and remember that they're the kids and I'm the adults. I know these things of course, but this mental shift, a continual return to who is the kid here and who is the adult, is what will keep me from losing myself. Burnt-out Mamas are the result of forgetting their unique harmony they possess apart from the kids. Kids are draining. Period. They bring out the best in me and they absolutely have brought out the worst in me. So it's easy to get lost in that when you're finding yourself in full Dictator-Mode or Governor-Role or Florence Nightingale-Mode. I step outside of myself sometimes and can hear myself and wonder, who is this person I am right now, the one fussing and ordering kids around? Face it--none of us can live up to the Pinterst Mommies out there and the parenting magazine articles that make parenting look like this ethereal experience where Mom and child are smiling over their messy art projects together. Yes, I have those pictures too. But I know between those photos were some not so happy moments. I had a friend once tell me that pictures lie. I totally disagreed with her. But actually, she's not too far from the truth. We forget the insanity between the photos. The photos capture the moment, that's all. The moment. They are great moments, necessary to get through the muck.

When I hear myself in full Mommy-mode, I wonder at myself now, and remind myself this: You are a fun person. Who can laugh. You're a silly woman who likes to dress up and flirt with your husband. You still know how to talk about intellectual things even though Curious George has taken over your critical thinking skills. This crazy lady taking over right now in an effort to wrangle three children to bed, teeth brushed, books read, and rested for the next day is just waiting for her break when the fun girl can be back. The kids will see her one day too. Probably tomorrow. And one day as adults, they'll hopefully see all the fun you are, when you're not trying to teach them all the life skills they need to have to go into the world one day.

I find myself doing literary criticism on Curious George and critiquing the plot and syntax of the Berenstain Bears books. And yes, I actually have done this. I even did an analysis on a children's book by Laura and Jenna Bush. I nearly emailed them my critique. I must read more. I must write more. For me. I must go on dates with my husband. I should take a long bath. I really should drink more white wine. It's what women in their 30s do right? Nectar of the gods for mommies. I love singing as loudly as I can in the car to anything that's on, whether it's worship music, Kelly Clarkson, or Keith Urban. Heck I might even attempt Adele. I must do these things so I can give my children the best of the Mommy they have been given.

Kyle and I played legos tonight, at his request. I love that my 8 year old earlier today said, "Mom, I don't want to play a game. I just want to be with you." Oh, how my heart skipped a beat.

As we built good-guy and bad-guy vehicles out of a zillion Lego pieces, I told him how he and I used to build with megablocks when he was 2 and all his favorite things we built then. He said he remembered. I don't know if he does, but I took photos of what we built six years ago so maybe he has seen those. Or maybe he does remember.

We had been playing about 45 minutes. I am thankful for my Dad's influence because I built a plane, complete with a pilot and copilot. I also built a little vehicle with a door on it. His vehicles were outfitted with guns and other weapons. Mine had a door. I told him our enemies were controlled by their need for Oreos and my machine were smoke them with the scent of oreos which would lead them to my 'door,' and we would tell them to go through the door for their Oreos and it would time-travel them back to the days of the dinosaurs, channeling the Magic Tree House series. Kyle changed it to transporting them back to the Ninjas.

I knew it was way past bedtime. As I got up, I sat back down and watched him from behind bent over his creation and had to keep telling myself to just sit and watch him for a few minutes and take in everything he was doing, one second at a time. I couldn't help but picture him as a 2 year old building with Mega blocks and struggling to make them stand upright. In seconds, he's a baby in my mind.

 I just tried to take in as much of him as I could as I watched him building and creating and just being 8. It's so easy to get so busy and caught up in the rat race of the day-in, day-out stuff but it's the very small moments for me that are the biggest. We don't do a lot of outings or take our kids on trips often. And that's okay. Sometimes I feel like we're not giving our kids 'experiences' like we see so many families doing on facebook. Oh the dreaded facebook world which really is the new 'keeping up with the Jones' era. Our family is actually a group of 5 homebodies. We like to do things but when we're home, we just want to BE home. We don't want lots of schedules, projects, plans. We like the freedom of no plans. We like the spontaneity of the girls playing with barbies and kyle playing with Legos and just sitting with them. Or just sitting near them and watching them.

My hope is the best moments of their childhood won't be tied up in some fancy trip somewhere or taking them to the latest 'outing' on the agenda, but in the small moments of Dad on the floor with Makenna, letting her put jewelry on him and me on the floor building lego planes with my son who just wants to be BE with me. I rocked my 2 year old tonight at bedtime. Kinsley doesn't need that. I needed it. I needed to rock her because my other two babies, while they can still sit on my lap, are a bit large to rock. I just needed to BE with her. And rock. And in her words to me, 'sing.' And I did.

My God of Angel Armies

This is long and gloomy but read until the end. It does get better.

I write because if I have to. I just read an article on yahoo about a physician's assistant admitting to cutting the spinal cord of ten babies born alive in a Philadelphia clinic. Something someone said to me this week is that people have gotten so 'caught up' in the 'right to choose' that they have completely lost sight of the horrors of the abortion industry. It's in moments like these that I find myself begging Jesus to return.

I can barely open up a news page online without seeing the depravity of not just adults anymore, but our youth. It is easy to get swept away in despair and hopelessness and I find myself asking Jesus to come back soon so my children won't know the horrors of this world, as I fear there are worse things ahead.

I recently was talking with a friend who is an empty-nester. She and I were talking about the recent radio ad in the Austin-area advertising paying women to donate their eggs. I remarked that our culture needs to wake up. There are so many deviant behaviors that we expect from men, which is terribly unfortunate, but when we start seeing women take on the behaviors historically seen and expected from men, something is seriously wrong. When women turn a blind eye to the pain and suffering of abortion in the name of feminism and free-choice, when a woman smothers her newborn twins (as I just read online), when mothers fake their own abductions with their child, when mothers chase their children one-by-one through the house so she can drown them, and when women start selling their eggs to make money, this is the downfall of society as we know it.

This friend of mine whose son is in his 20s said to her one day, "I just sense that Jesus will come back in my lifetime." She shared that she actually isn't sure she wants her children to have children because she is fearful for those children's future in our society. This literally made me suck in my breath. Has there EVER been a time when a young man in his 20s, a man who doesn't even feel great about God most of the time, saying Jesus is returning soon. Has there EVER been a time when women are 'okay' with no grandchildren due to their fear for those children's life in our country? This shocked me to the core. But I totally understood. I have begun to feel this way too, wondering what will be left of our depraved culture after I'm gone.

When we see what has happened in Ohio with the teen showing up in court laughing and mocking the victims' families and the two other Ohio teens sentenced for the rape of a 16 year old girl, who themselves were their own accusers through social media as they brazenly bragged of the rape and other teens witnessed the crime and saw nothing wrong with what they did, it has to be cause for us to say what in the WORLD is our future generation going to be like?

Now I'm sure by now you're thinking I'm a complete gloom and doomer. There is nothing new under the sun. But I can certainly point to the 40 years of legalized abortion as a major pivot point in our country for the loss of respect for life. What that decision did was give a major foothold for the dark enemy, satan, to have his way in our culture and run wild, which is exactly what scripture says he is doing until the 2nd coming. Since that point in our history, we have seen the continued decline of family values, moral codes, integrity, and the list goes on and on.

I see all these things and all I can do is ask Jesus to remind me that He is in control even when it doesn't look like it. And all I can do is teach my children and stay extremely involved in their lives and keep the conversation going as they approach the pre-teen years in a few years.

What is so hard for me as a mother is knowing I can't protect my children from any of this. And that is so terribly hard for me. I realized the other day that I have triple the pain as a mother since I have three children to love and protect. I had never really thought about it until I thought about the three little ones that have forever changed my view of the world and the constant need inside me to protect them like a mama grizzly bear. I have three cubs to defend. I have a big God though who is mighty to save. And that is where I find my peace. I can't imagine traveling through life without the Almighty by my side. I have real power beside me, in me, in front of me, behind me, above me, around me. I don't know about you, but I definitely would rather traverse this life with Him as my Shield and Defense. Otherwise, I'm a stray lamb with wolves around me. While there are still the wolves, my Shepherd is by my side. And then I feel victorious because I know Redeemer lives and my Shepherd is mighty to beat the wolves back, along with his legion of angels, my God of angel armies.

Fabulous song..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fiBn6mPjvG0

It's amazing how easily people can raise their hands in triumph, shout battle cries, and scream with joy or even groan in despair...at sporting events. But yet, in worship, too often we hardly move our feet. I love worship in all formats. I've met with God and been covered by the aroma of incense at a Greek Orthodox service (although I did feel a wee bit spacey afterwars). I've seen people lay prostrate in worship (so thankful to a high school friend who took me to his church on Sunday nights so I could be exposed to this as I myself have laid prostrate privately in prayer). I've heard the speaking of tongues and the proclamation as they are interpreted. I've sat in silent reverence in a Catholic service and been in awe of the beauty of the latin liturgy, completely done in latin. I appreciate however a person desires to lift their voice in song. I myself am more charismatic in worship but sometimes, I simply kneel in our row at church and spend time, completely silent and just listen to the sounds of those around me. Sometimes that is what i need. Other times, I need to wave my arms because my voice can't express what my heart is feeling. I raise my arms as a banner to the One who saved me. Doesn't he deserve my full expression, rather than me holding back out of fear of what another might think of me? I don't worry about such things anymore. I just meet with Jesus and spend time with him. We know every knee will bow. We know David danced before the Lord with all his might and when he was rebuked by his wife, he told her that he was going to become even MORE undignified than what she was seeing (loincloth being the only thing on him--eek). So this video just was so special. The hearing impaired person, unless they are able to use their voice, MUST use their body to worship (unless they sing simply in their head which is appropriate too of course!). This expression of worship in this video captures so much of what my heart senses sometimes. And yet, like any other relationship, sometimes I just go through the motions because I"m distracted. And that's okay too. I keep worshipping because He has commanded me to. We were created to worship. It's one of the main differences between us and animals. So I will worship.

Jesus, your mercies are new every morning. "Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness." That's from Lamentations 3:22-23 which is running through my head. It's amazing how I woke up thinking "your mercies are new every morning" and didn't even know where that was in scripture. It's amazing how God's word takes root in your heart and his promises get tucked away in there to emerge and be pulled out by the HOly Spirit, to be his tool for your soul when you most need it. I woke up thinking about the girl and baby I'm praying for. More details are that she will take a pill starting this morning that is a 3 day process that cuts off nutrition supply. I won't share much more than this. The authorities know that PP does this and yet nothing is done to stop this. Lamentation is an appropriate name for this verse because lamenting is indeed what I'm doing. I actually felt HOPE when I received more details that the abortion itself wasn't occurring for a few more days, but I also know we are on borrowed time as the nutrition supply is cut off. I also believe Jesus can overcome.

Since Obama took office, our country began sending money to other countries to pay for abortions. I bet you didn't know that. How's that for adding to our national debt. When did we become such a Godless nation? I full heartedly believe God is turning this country over to its sin. This doesn't mean I have no hope. My hope is in HIM who I know I belong to. But I also know God is not a pushy God and he does indeed give peope over to their own sin. And actually, that in itself, as confusing as it is to humans, CAN be an act of love and mercy itself, which I know sounds nutty, but who am I to define what mercy is. HIS mercies are new every morning. It's not up to me to figure out what mercy looks like when God is excercising it. And because of his love, I am not consumed. I trust in his promises and in His unfailing love. And I trust his power to intervene and his power to step aside to work out whatever mercy he wants to show this girl and her family. Who am I to get in his way?

We have the most agressive pro-choice president in our history. He doesn't just have a position--he sends money to other countries to fund their abortions! What in the WORLD??????? Pray people, pray brothers and sisters, I don't care what political party you are on, those things matter not to me. Pray that our leaders would be GOD-FILLED, God-fearing men and women who value LIFE. And if they aren't valuing LIFE, then we HAVE GOT TO stand up and DO something about this. We have to be praying for this nation of Godlessness.

If you really want to know the details of this industry and what is happening in our hospitals, go to www.jillstanek.com but I warn you, the details on her blog are not for the weak. I can only handle so much myself. But the ignorance of our country is why infanticide continues and is rising in our country and in other countries. People simply don't KNOW. If people really knew, I believe more would come together. We stand together in agreement Jesus and pray in agreement! Hear us Lord. Hear the cries of many coming together. Let us get louder and raise a battle cry.

I just recently had a friend tell me I needed to blog and I gave the repeated answer I've said to so many, 'i know, i need to, i just don't have time anymore.' But yet i have time to facebook. Forgive typos, forgive errors in this post, as my hands can hardly keep up with my mind. I have to put on 'paper' what is running through my heart today, consuming my heart, and ask my friends who care about the life of the unborn, our most defenseless citizens, to join me in a prayer vigil over the next 24 hours.

I have all day had Casting Crowns' son "Jesus, friend of sinners" running through my head, specifically the lyric "break our heart for what breaks yours." I've never spent much time thinking about this line and what it means for me personally. Today I had somber news shared with me about a young girl I've never met, but she matters to me because she is one of Jesus' daughters and she is scheduled for an abortion tomorrow morning and she is 20 weeks along. She knows the details of her baby as any mother knows at 20 weeks along. I don't want to share too much for a couple of reasons. First, it will make it very real for you, and I want to respect your mind and your heart as I don't know what my readers can handle. Second, I want to keep any judgement passing through your heart towards her. After tomorrow, I have to move to a place of forgiveness and healing for her and a place of offering restoration of her heart and soul and she finds herself living post-abortively.

Today as details of this situation were shared, I broke into sobs, which shocked me personally as I'm not known for crying publicly. I won't share specifically what brought the sobs on because I want to keep your heart from aching as badly as mine continues to do so tonight. I realized my heart was breaking for what breaks the heart of Jesus. Jesus loves this young girl no matter what. He loves her baby. He has a life planned for this baby and the mother. And i love this girl even though I've never met her and I've prayer fervently throughout the day for her to change her mind.

She knows facts but as many young girls, doesn't see past the here and now. She has been fed lies from Planned Parenthood. I make no apology for my disdain for PP. They are a money-making machine. They show ultrasounds that are very blurry for a reason. They lie to women making them believe no one wants to adopt a non-caucasian baby which is why we see abortion rates among minorities far higher than caucasians. I don't care what PP provides to women who need pap smears and other healthcare. There ARE alternatives to PP for women's healthare. If you are a woman needing healthcare and you think PP is your only option, contact me. I can get connect you with other resources.  I care about the babies they kill every day. If you are post-abortive and still suffering the emotional fallout from your decision, you are not alone and there are people who want to help you through the healing process. There are women, myself included, willing to walk with you through that pain without any kind of judgement and love you through it.

this is all just spilling out of me because I have a heavy burden on my heart to protect the unborn and to provide their mommies with other options. The burden is so heavy on my heart that I am pleading with you to pray with me for this mother and the father of the baby, who I think has a greater chance of affecting the outcome. I believe the Spirit can move in a fierce way and change hearts through the cries of many. But make no mistake, the spiritual battle going on right now in the spiritual realm around this baby and her mother is dark and fierce and waging as I type. I also believe the battle waging might not result in the outcome I want because humans have free will. And God never pushes himself on someone, because that wouldn't be a loving God. That would be a controlling, dictating God, and that is not the Jesus I know. But with that freedom comes a vicious evil that is loose on this earth. I pray that this young woman would change her mind. Right now her baby is alive and has a future. My only hope is to pray for a change in her heart tonight, in the morning, even at the very last moment. I don't know her. I can't go to her. I can't find her. I can't chase her down at the clinic tomorrow, although every bit of me wants to because I want to rescue her and the baby. You might think it's not my business. It probably isn't. But that won't make me stop caring, loving, and praying. I have to be a defender of the weak. And I have friends who would adopt this baby in a heartbeat. I would adopt the baby without blinking.

Please pray with me. The days are dark. There is hope in Jesus.