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Showing posts from August, 2013

The Lord has promised good to me...

It was the worst possible day to go talk with him.

I had been planning on taking Joel (my three year old) out to our church’s pond where I would be eventually baptized.  I wanted to take him to the water and explain in the most basic of ways what would be going on.  I didn’t want him to think it was just something silly or goofy Mommy was doing or that I was “taking a bath” or anything like that.  I wanted him to know it had something to do with God and His love for us - and my love for Him.  

The Saturday morning before baptism Sunday, I decided to drive over.  It was the best possible time and pretty much our last chance before the weekend ran away with us.  The only problem? 

I was not in Super-Christian-Mom mode.  

Instead I had spent the morning feeling like my head would explode, like I wanted to lock myself in a closet or run away.  The boys were screaming at each other and pushing buttons and I was screaming right back.  I was unraveling after a week of my husband’s traveling; str…

There's no life apart from You...

I really think sometimes that God just like messing with our stuff.
He’s kind of like that annoying younger sibling who sneaks in your room while you’re not, just to rifle through your stuff and leave behind traces just to further drive you batty.  He’s that third wheel on the date that you want to be alone on.  He’s the one telling you to have manners when you just want to fall face first into the Ben and Jerry’s.  Sometimes that’s what I think.  What it feels like.  
Like He’s just all up in my business.  My stuff.
A couple Sunday’s ago we got to the van after church service and I literally flounced into my seat, slammed the door with some unnecessary force and sighed loud as I fastened my seatbelt.  As we pulled away, Aaron made a benign comment about the service being good and I snarled, “Yeah, it was great.  But I’d really like God and Pastor Stu to stop hounding me.”  I smiled a little to show I didn’t hate church or my pastor or my God.  But seriously.  Stop nipping at my heels.  …