If I Die

They play together now.

“He hit me!!”

I’ve heard this too many times in the past few days.  I scoop him up and place him in the time out spot.  We don’t spank.  We have our own personal reasons why we don’t.  You may have strong opposing opinions.  I respect them.  But now that I’m 31 I don’t feel like I have to agree with you and we can still be lovely friends.  (Look at me, growing up!)

I tell the Little Man why he was in time out.  I say, “We do not hit.  Show me gentle.”  He leans in for a hug.  With tears sliding down his cheeks he rubs his face into my shirt.  My mama shoulder wipes the residual wetness from his face and eyes as he buries his head next to mine.  

It's always more fun when you turn the toys upside down.

I tell him to go and tell his sister he is sorry.  He walks up to her and in his baby voice with his baby words he says it.  She understands. 

“I forgive you.” 

And they play on. 

I sit and watch them and think to myself, “How do I do this better?  How do I teach and correct and guide?  How do I steer them away from my own pitfalls and shortcomings?”

I check my email on my phone, my habit for when I am overwhelmed with thoughts and want to disengage.  Then I see one of the blogs I love to read.

I look through the older email seeing if there is something else to read but I am drawn back to it, my soul just knowing that I need to read it, my spirit urging me on.

My eyes well up and I am so grateful her words.  They bring me peace and remind me of grace.

As I continue to fight this battle of what it looks like to live a life not perfect but being perfected I hang on to reminders that grace covers me…and them.

He is so active these days.  He keeps me moving...running I should say.

I wrote about Legacy not long ago.  So, now all of this has me thinking of what I want to leave behind.  Coincidentally, I had a dream last night that I was going to die and I told the Fly that there were 3 things I wanted him to make sure the kids knew and understood.

They are loved.

Be in authentic and faith-filled community.

Pray real prayers.

If I could add one more today, I would say,

And always, no matter what, Forgive.

She loves to hang.  On anything.  Even me. 

Only forgiveness frees us up and unlocks the chains that keep us from understanding and fully experiencing the others listed above.

I know that I will try hard and I will fail hard as I stumble and stride down the path of “leaving legacy.”  But, my hope is, when they are grown and they wash their own clothes and feed their own bellies they will continue to say, “I forgive you.”

Resolve

It’s 21 days into the new year and I want to write.  For fifteen minutes every night,  I want to write.  I want to get better at getting the thoughts that race through my mind during the day onto paper…or the screen.  

I am beginning to see Him everywhere.  Some days I find that the desire to tell my story, His story, overwhelms me.  Then the small people in my life overwhelm me and between all of the feelings of being overwhelmed the holy moments slip through and I forget them as soon as I realize them.

The Uncle and the Bug.  "Tend-Pre"  dinner.  I don't want to let this one slip.  It's too precious.

So, although I don’t believe in resolutions, mainly because I always fail, I am asking God to give me the resolve to write…everyday. 

Grace is a huge word in my vocabulary.  It is much needed…more than calcium or vitamin C, in my opinion, mainly because I forget to take those things too.  Grace will be needed.

So here we go. 

Lord, help me to capture your heart on the page. 

This boy captures my heart.  He's the cutest little trouble maker. 

 Good night 2012.  Thank you for waking me up.  Thank you for bringing me back to life.

Take One.  Hilarious. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Take two.  This is my side of the family in front of the "Grizwold Family Christmas Tree."  Seriously, that sucker was 12 feet high.  I love these people and our tendencies for the extravagant.

 

Cheers to 2013.  Oh, how I welcome you and the new thing that springs up!

 

Every Heartbeat

5th grade was a hard year.  I did not like school.  I clearly remember sobbing at the dinner table as I was trying to finish my "composition technique" homework.  I had to write three sentence paragraphs about Native Americans.  I had memorized The Song of Hiawatha in its entirety, no problem, but composing a topic sentence with two supporting sentences wrecked havoc on my 10-year-old brain.

Little did I know that writing would one day become a source of creativity, an outlet.  Little did I know that writing would reveal the mysteries and the miracles I so easily sped by before.

Getting the sentences on the paper would prove a struggle for much of my schooling, however, there was an avenue where my synapses fired and I thrived. 

Creative Arts.

The Bug's first Recital.

Whether I was dancing, acting, singing, gymnastic-cizing, (yes, I know, I made that word up,) ice skating, or creating with my hands, I put my whole heart into it.  I loved to create.  I love to create.

If you head back to my very first post, A Lesson From Amy, you will learn of my fond feelings for Amy Grant.  They were woven in at a young age.  And, once again, Amy inspires yet another story.

With big bangs, black, ribbed bicycle shorts and floral tops with a tie-front, chiffon overlay that flared at the bottom, all purchased at Mervyn's, four extremely talented 5th grade girls performed an interpretive rendition, if you will, of the 1991 hit single, Every Heartbeat, at the school talent show.  ( I heart run-on sentences.  Take that, composition techniques!)

It. Was. Epic.  Oh, how I wish I had the video to show you...or at least a picture.

"Every heartbeat bears your name
Loud and clear they stake my claim
My red blood runs true blue
And every heartbeat belongs to you." 

(It's okay to sing along if you know the words.)

Yes.  Just like I remember, "By the shores of Gitche Gumee, by the shinging Big-Sea waters..."  (Hiawatha, my friends!) and the tears at the dinner table, I remember the truly inspired choreography of the chorus.  With strong windmill arms, grape-vines, and bended knees the four of us told the "classic story of boy meets girl...moving the same direction." 

We told the story.  

Tonight, as I sit and wait for Christmas to come with a child's anticipation, I am remembering the stories.  Stories of my childhood.  Stories that I read.  Stories that I told.  Stories that I lived.

In the middle of all the remembering I found myself reading about Abraham.  The Bible gives him an incredible eulogy.  One I so desperately want to be true of me.

"Then Abraham breathed his last and died at a good old age, an old man and full of years; and he was gathered to his people." Genesis 25:8

It made me think about my kids, the stories I tell them and what I want them to remember.  It made me think about the stories I am living with the people in my life and what I want them to remember.  What do I want to leave behind?

Legacy.

This word has weighed on my mind.  I continue to come back to it. 

As life unfolds and these days become the next ones I remember I desperately want all the days to point to One.  The One who ordered them.  The One who redeemed them.  The One who breathed afresh on them.

If every heartbeat I was graced with could bear His name...what would that look like?  If I could point my kids to Jesus as we walk to the park or look at the Christmas lights, what would they remember?  Will they look back at their own 10-year-old tears and see how the sweat, the ache, the frustration, the failure, the perseverence and their need for help could lead to a beautiful revelation of His goodness and grace?

As Christmas comes in a few days and the new year sweeps in right behind, I am praying LEGACY.  I want to leave behind a grace-filled story.  A story that reminds the ones I love and even the ones I may not know that the God who came to be with us is for us. 

Amy was singing about a boy, and at 10, I was too.  But tonight, as I remember the cheesy 90's pop chorus  (sorry Amy!), I am reminded of a baby King who grew into a boy and then a man whose red blood ran even though it was Royal blue. 

This baby King came to save me and wrap His love around me so I could tell His story to a broken world and pray those that hear it will remember it and tell it again.

The Bug and her proud mama who curbed her inner "stage-mom," and never fixed the head-band.  Let's just say it was a proud night for both of us.

My Grown Up Christmas List

This is the email I received from my hero, my dad. 

So many prayers have been answered in the last month.  My reaction?  Wanting more.

Instead of recognizing answers and God's outstretched arm and His right hand moving in the dark spots and hopeless places, I sulked in self-pity.  I steeped in loneliness, letting myself be infused with doubt.  My eyes were closed and my ears were deaf.

But as I read, for a second time, "Your prayers are being answered," I confessed in my heart and humbly thanked God for hearing my cry...giving an ear to little ol' me.   I let my heart soak up the joy that He was so longing to fill me with.

Then I stared at the next sentence.

My daddy is the greatest gift giver.  His gifts are thoughtful.  His gifts are sought out.  They are wrapped with pretty bows and love pours out of them as you unwrap them.  It's not because of what it is but because his heart, his love, is obvious in the contents.  

Me and my Daddy...dancing as my sweet sister serenaded us.

For a few days I've struggled with the gift receiving and gift giving questions.  I have battled it all...guilt for wanting things for myself...guilt for not knowing which charity to give to...guilt for being overwhelmed with all the stuff I need to do to point my family toward Christ this Christmas...guilt about whether to buy or not to buy...you get it, guilty.

So, today in a quiet moment, stolen from the to-do list, I sat down with my anxious heart and wrote this:

What do I want for Christmas?

• I want my family to fall more in love with Jesus, desperately seeking Him for all they need.

• I want my kids to learn that people are not perfect but are only made perfect through the gift of grace that comes through knowing Jesus as their Savior.

• I want people, myself included, to humble themselves and learn the power of servant leadership in the community, their homes, their jobs, the Church.

•  I want to hear God's voice, feel His promptings everyday and I want to want to be obedient.

• I want to be with people.  I want to eat and laugh and love people. 

• I want to see my three bestest friends in one place at the same time.

• I want my marriage to continue to grow and flourish.  I want to love my Fly better.

• When I buy presents for people this year, I want to buy them things that are meaningful.  I want them to know how they are loved.

• I want to teach my kids the true meaning of Christmas.  I want them to enjoy receiving gifts without guilt but as they grow I want them to understand the yearning they have for more will never be satisfied in this world.  Only He fills us.  Our souls long for Him, even when we don't realize it.

• And, completely selfishly, not in the least deserving, I want my Disneyland pass renewed.  I love that place. It makes me happy.

 I'm not sure these things can be packaged...but if there's one guy who is creative enough to try...it's my dad.

His gift-giving gifting points me to my Heavenly Father's Gift Giving...so creative that the spoken Word became flesh and dwelled among us.  He knew exactly what we needed.  He knew it when we couldn't articulate it.  His gift wrapped in the delicate, velvet skin of a newborn.  Oh, to smell the newborn head of God...to place your cheek to His and breathe in.  Life.  Abundant life. Zoe life. Wrapped in clothes.  Lying in a manger.

Yes, the greatest gift has already been given.

May the gifts we give be ones that point people to Him.

Zoie Cheek to Zoe Cheek.

A New Thing

A New Season.  Once the seed has been under ground, covered, broken open, rooted and established a crop springs forth.  Then it's time for the Harvest.

Forget the former things;
do not dwell on the past.
See I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the desert
and streams in the wasteland.
Isaiah 43:18-19


I am a closet clutter queen.  Literally, I stuff my closets with my clutter and hope and pray that no one sees it.  I give myself the title queen because...well, I can, and because it makes it sound a little less emabarrassing and shameful.

Embarassing and shameful.  Those are words that can cut deep.  But truly, this is what I feel when I look at or think about my clutter problem.

But those doors that had been shut up and had hid my clutter were flung open wide, thankfully not for the world to see, but for my eyes specifically.

Let me back up.  On October 10th I began a Daniel Fast.  This is a type of fasting a person does for health or spiritual reasons.  It is based on the scriptures in Daniel chapter 1.  You eat anything that came from a seed that has not been processed and drink water only.  My purposes for the fast were spiritual.  As I started out I had an idea in my mind of what my prayers would be directed toward.  That quickly changed.  I thought other's hearts needed to change.  Little did I  know my heart would be the most affected.

On the first night of my fast I had a heated conversation.  The person with whom I was speaking made mention of looking in a mirror.  These words stung and branded my heart but I believe they were a Holy Catalyst.  I held on to them, at first out of hurt, bitterness and anger, but then out of a desperate desire to see what others see.

"Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like.  But the man who looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues to do this, not forgetting what he has heard , but doing it--he will be blessed in what he does." James 1:23-25

I starred at myself.  I starred good and hard and long.  First I saw the lines.  The tiny wrinkles reflecting  the experiences and the years.  I saw the things I try so hard, every day, to cover up.  I looked into my own eyes, the window of my soul, and I saw something ugly.

Pride.

Typing it is hard enough.  Pushing the "Post" button will be an act of humility but that's exactly what I need.

Gently, but without relief, the Lord pressed.  Pushing me through the fire that would purify and refresh me.  And He brought me to His Word.  I began to read it with new eyes.   Eyes that desperately longed to know the freedom His perfect law gives.

He showed me things.  My pride was seeded in my need to be perfect, to follow all the rules and do my very best to be good enough.  For others it can be the opposite, seeded in rebellion, making your own rules.

Pride is dangerous.  It is a weed that chokes out all that is good.  It suffocates and closes off the receptors to what God is doing.  Pride says, "I have it under control."  It couples itself with idolatry and we become our own gods.  After all, if I can be good enough, what do I need God for? 
I have learned:  I am not good enough, nor, will I ever be. 

And it's okay.

I am not justified by my closets.  I am not justified by being the best...wife, mom, person...The only one who can make me right, the only one who can make this desperate rule follower free is the one who actually did follow all the rules for me...He fulfilled them by following them all the way to the cross. 

I am not justified by my baking skills...thank you, Jesus!!!

As hard as it's been, as the tears have flowed daily, I have slowly felt my heart transform.  The anecdote?  Humility.  Yes, it's obvious, but the daily practices are subtle and easy to miss.

I have confessed, to God and to others.  Confession is so important.  Telling someone, out loud, brings it's own freedom. 

I have prayed.  I am a pray-er.   This is how God meets me and I meet Him.  I sit before Him and I listen and a speak and I listen and I speak. 

I devoured His Word.  I really did.  Man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.  This has become so real to me.  I am so thankful for the revelation.

I have served.  I heard a sermon from our pastor last weekend.  He spoke of Jesus washing the feet of the disciples.  Jesus saw a need.  He got down and did what needed to be done.  So often, I let things go for others to do.  I am now seeing things that need to be done and asking the Lord to give me a servant's heart and do them...nothing magnificent, things like the laundry and the dishes.  The things I did before seeking recognition, a merit of "good enough," now doing the things that need to be done with a heart of gratitude for what's been done for me.

I am not claiming perfection.  It would be counter-productive at this point.  But I feel a new thing happening in my heart. 

Today I am thankful for that new thing.  I am thankful that my God continues to pursue me even when I work for my righteousness or when I give in and rebel.  I am thankful He is not done with me.  I am thankful that He is always doing a new thing.

On a day set aside to remember what we are thankful for, I am thankful for all the hard things...all the pain and all the suffering that has revealed my need for a Savior. 

Thank you, God, for taking my mess and making it beautiful.  Not because of anything I have done but because of all that You have done.

Happy Thanksgiving.  
May you see the new thing He wants to do in you.
And with a heart of gratitude, let Him do it.

The Fly and his NEW guitar.  New music in our home.

Birthday celebrations. New Year for new things.  Little Man got a NEW hair do too...growing up too fast.

Let Us Pray

Today I had the wonderful opportunity to speak to a group of women about prayer and praying for their families.

I informed them from the beginning that I am in no way an expert...just a practitioner.

It has been an incredible journey as God has taught me the importance and power of prayer.  I was blessed to be able to share it today.

I promised a list of resources.  Here are the ones I mentioned and a few more:

Books

The Circle Maker by Mark Batterson

Intercessory Prayer by Dutch Sheets

Praying the Scriptures for Your Children by Jodie Berndt

The Beginner's Guide to Fasting byElmer L. Towns


Websites

www.aholyexperience.com by Ann Voskamp author of One Thousand Gifts
Click on the Free Gifts for you Tab for some great resources

www.jeniferjerigan.com  One of the table leaders, a good friend of mine, found a great resource on praying scripture for your family on this site.  There are other tools as well.



Prayer Tools

For the Family by Sylvia Gunter


The resources above are wonderful.  They answer questions.  They inspire. They can help give direction.  However, there is nothing more powerful, in my opinion, than praying God's Words.  Here are some scriptures that I personally suggest to pray over your loved ones:

Psalm 91
Ephesians 6:10-18
Colossians 1:9-13
Ephesians 1:15-23



This not a comprehensive list of all the resources I've ever used.  These are the ones that stand out in this season.  I would LOVE to hear about what you are reading...even if it doesn't have to do with prayer!

If you have a resource or a book suggestion please leave it in the comment section!

I leave you with this today and pray these words for every reader,

Psalm 20

May the Lord answer you when you are in distress;
    may the name of the God of Jacob protect you.
² May he send you help from the sanctuary
    and grant you support from Zion.
³ May he remember all your sacrifices
    and accept your burnt offerings.
⁴ May he give you the desire of your heart
    and make all your plans succeed.
⁵ May we shout for joy over your victory
    and lift up our banners in the name of our God.

May the Lord grant all your requests.

⁶ Now this I know:
    The Lord gives victory to his anointed.
He answers him from his heavenly sanctuary
    with the victorious power of his right hand.
⁷ Some trust in chariots and some in horses,
    but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.
⁸ They are brought to their knees and fall,
    but we rise up and stand firm.
⁹ Lord, give victory to the king!
    Answer us when we call!

I Remember

It is with a heavy heart that America greets today. 

We remember.  We will never forget. 

We have said those words for 11 years now.

I was in my college apartment sleeping under my Urban Outfitters bedspread.  My phone rang.  The Fly asked me if I had seen the news.  I didn't have class until 11...of course, I hadn't seen the news.  Groggy from late nights, papers, friends, work, fun, college-life, I laid my head back down.

I couldn't fall back asleep.  I didn't understand the depravity that had occurred.  I had hardly understood the words coming out of the phone.  I got up and walked into the other room to turn on the TV.

Then I saw...over and over as they replayed what had happened.

Shock and disbelief.  Then the fear.  Where was my dad?  Flying from coast to coast and home on the weekends, this was his life. 

Relief rushed through me as I heard his voice.  He had been at LAX when it happened.  He was coming home.

He was coming home.

2,996 others did not go home that day.

Today we remember them.  With flags and banners, names read aloud, memories and stories told of those who suffered the consequences of another's evil plot.

As a nation we wonder.  We cry.  We form strong opinions.  We argue.  We plan.  We protect.  We do whatever we can to cope with the reality that evil and wickedness are very real.

We ask questions.  We blame God.  We defend God.

We don't want to admit it but we are still afraid.  We fear what might happen.  What's next?

These things well up in us today.  And, as we remember the past, we remember that our future is ahead of us.  Our near future holds some critical moments that will determine the direction of our country in the next 4 years.  Today our remembering not only brings the emotions of the past but it also causes the emotions surrounding the next 56 days.

This week's rhetoric will be charged with emotion of the whys and why-nots and how-to's and how-not-to's of our decision making.

So what do we do?

 if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.

2 Chronicles 7:14


It's been impressed on my heart to pray the Psalms for both presidential candidates, the American people, and the election itself.

Today was the 11th day I've done this.  I opened my Bible to Psalm 11.  I read this:

Vs 6 and 7,

Upon the wicked He will rain coals;
Fire and brimstone and a burning wind
Shall be the portion of their cup.
For the Lord is righteous.
He loves righteousness;
His countenance beholds the upright.

Fire and Brimstone have a bad rap, rightfully so.  But as I read this today I felt a unity with my fellow Americans, those that think the same and those that think differently.

Wherever our opinions place us in the war of politics, today we can come together and remember.  Remember that our God does not look at what happened 11 years ago and sit passively by.  He too hates wickedness and evil. His plan is for redemption.

As you remember today, I humbly ask you, set down your opinions, set down your agendas and if you are the praying type,  humble yourself before God.  Ask him to direct your prayers.  And pray. 

Pray for those that are still with us today, hurting from those evil actions of others. 

Pray for your fellow Americans; pray they experience peace today. 

Pray for President Obama and Vice-President Joe Biden.  Ask  God to give them wisdom and direction. 

Pray for Republican Presidential Candidate Mitt Romney and Vice Presidential Candidate Paul Ryan.  Ask God to give them wisdom and direction. 


A final note...

As I was researching a few facts for this post I came upon this headline...

Mitt Romney, Barack Obama campaigns avoid negative politics on 9/11 anniversary


Proud to be an American. 

God Bless America.