Lompoc is, bar none, the most beautiful place I've ever seen. I have dreamed of travelling down the streets of Paris and watching the gondalas in Italy, but I never anticipated such beauty in the place of my permanent residence.
What's truly amazing about God is that He is so unpredictable. What I've been told is my greatest weakness has worked for me in brute strength today in my acceptance of these peculiar circumstances. We are homeless. Isn't it a strange concept? There is nothing spectacular about it because there is an end in sight and it is arranged for us to have a house here, but it's the characteristic I would list on the *get to know me* surveys as something interesting about myself right now. But here's the good part. We haven't had Dale home with us for this long of a stretch in... oh... ever. He's never been able to spend this much uninterrupted time with us as he has/will right now. So our homelessness is a gift. It's a vacation and an adventure. We will have to create some debt as a result of our move, something we had hoped to avoid, but really-- when something as paramount as this falls in your lap, why not enjoy it?
God hears your prayers and I am thankful to have them!!! There is really no way we can get into the house any sooner than Dale's first day of work. It's strange the way the government has such legalities that do not bend. I guess that's why it works the way it does. So your prayers for us are that the body of Christ would be a physical help for us as we unload, reload, and unload again in the next week. Hopefully the weight I've added from eating out so many meals in a row will melt off as I summon strength that is not mine to lift furniture and boxes.
Pray too that the kids do not get the brunt of our emotions. It's difficult to be rational when you're living out of suitcases and on top of each other in two small rooms.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Are we there yet?
Not quite.
Thursday we started loading the 70 ft. moving truck with everything we own for, hopefully, the last time. Federal employees, when they transfer from state to state, are moved by movers; that's what I kept telling myself as we stacked the 70some boxes into the first few feet of the truck. It was sunny and beautiful from noon until about 3:30 when the storm clouds rolled in. I prayed fervently under my breath that God would hold back the rain for just one more hour, just one more hour... We had announced that we'd start loading the truck at 4:30 so people that worked could help us. The four of us loading until that time had everything on the lawn, thinking it would be easier to organize the load if it was all laid out. Around 4:00 big rain drops began to pelt our totes and funiture through the branches of the tree under which we had placed most of it.
I carried one load after the next in bewilderment trying hard not to fall apart. It must've shown on my face because my friend, who worked sparing nothing the whole time, kept asking if I was ok. I was ok, just nervous. More and more people came after that and consoled me with, "It's almost done." I could see the truck was nearly packed, but it wasn't almost done. I joked that it was half done, knowing we still had to unpack the truck at the other end. It wasn't half done though.
We are here in sunny southern Cali where it's 58 degrees right now, and there isn't a ray of sunshine in the sky. This morning we got a call to inform us that our house would be ready on the 11th, the date Dale is scheduled to report. The 11th. We're in a suite in Lompoc planning to unload the truck tomorrow at our new house. But it's not ours yet. It's not ours until the 11th, six days from now. There's a kitchenette and laundry facility here, but there's no peace or quiet.
Plan B is to unload the truck into a storage unit, stay in a hotel for a week, rent another truck to move our storage to the house on the 11th, stay in a hotel for the rest of the week... Dale will be at work so it's up to me to get the stuff moved in. Hahaha. I don't hate me because I live for drama.
I am praying that by some miracle we can go with plan A tomorrow. Pray for us. We need yet another miracle.
Thursday we started loading the 70 ft. moving truck with everything we own for, hopefully, the last time. Federal employees, when they transfer from state to state, are moved by movers; that's what I kept telling myself as we stacked the 70some boxes into the first few feet of the truck. It was sunny and beautiful from noon until about 3:30 when the storm clouds rolled in. I prayed fervently under my breath that God would hold back the rain for just one more hour, just one more hour... We had announced that we'd start loading the truck at 4:30 so people that worked could help us. The four of us loading until that time had everything on the lawn, thinking it would be easier to organize the load if it was all laid out. Around 4:00 big rain drops began to pelt our totes and funiture through the branches of the tree under which we had placed most of it.
I carried one load after the next in bewilderment trying hard not to fall apart. It must've shown on my face because my friend, who worked sparing nothing the whole time, kept asking if I was ok. I was ok, just nervous. More and more people came after that and consoled me with, "It's almost done." I could see the truck was nearly packed, but it wasn't almost done. I joked that it was half done, knowing we still had to unpack the truck at the other end. It wasn't half done though.
We are here in sunny southern Cali where it's 58 degrees right now, and there isn't a ray of sunshine in the sky. This morning we got a call to inform us that our house would be ready on the 11th, the date Dale is scheduled to report. The 11th. We're in a suite in Lompoc planning to unload the truck tomorrow at our new house. But it's not ours yet. It's not ours until the 11th, six days from now. There's a kitchenette and laundry facility here, but there's no peace or quiet.
Plan B is to unload the truck into a storage unit, stay in a hotel for a week, rent another truck to move our storage to the house on the 11th, stay in a hotel for the rest of the week... Dale will be at work so it's up to me to get the stuff moved in. Hahaha. I don't hate me because I live for drama.
I am praying that by some miracle we can go with plan A tomorrow. Pray for us. We need yet another miracle.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Maybe I am... a little more than just grateful
One of my favorite things to read, at present, is Pioneer Woman. She's funny, she's nuts, and her life is like a ancient fortress, primed and tended by generations gone before. It's immovable. On the days when the fast pace of action and adventure and constant change is too hard to swallow, I dream of the constancy of a rancher's life and escape into her world. And besides all of that, I can read each entry in a few minutes and then hurry on to what's pressing.
Right now I'm sitting in my pajamas at 9:30 in a dark quiet house listening to the coffee pot percolate wondering if I'll ever have a day like this again. I haven't laughed or cried or remenisced or made memories like I have this week in all of my life. One of the richest blessings that God has lavished on us has to be, no holds barred, the friendship that Christians have because of Christ. Relationships with people of like faith nurture us in ways that nothing else can. I am rich, even when we're broke, because of my family and my friends. People all around me lift me up and encourage me, cheering me on in the race, and when I can't physically hear them, they are praying for me. How can it be that God in all of the mystery and wonder that is His would place in my life so many people that really truly love me for who I am and with my countless flaws? I am more than blessed, I'm in awe.
We're moving to California in four days. I feel relaxed, drinking my coffee, chatting on the telephone, moving slowly through my day, but my mind and body tell me otherwise. In the midst of conversation there are gaps because I can't bring the word to mind that I want. I love words. Words are like sweet candy in my world and I can't find them or use them well because of the mental capacity overload that I am denying by my actions but is evidenced by the constant churning in my stomach. I am laughing more than crying, which is good, but that will come in time. Life is good, but I am swimming in the overwhelmingness of my present. It will all settle again in the weeks to come and I won't be so scattered, but for now this is what I am. SO PRAY FOR ME, my sweet and wonderful friends, and know that I am praying for you as you call or stop by or come to mind.
Right now I'm sitting in my pajamas at 9:30 in a dark quiet house listening to the coffee pot percolate wondering if I'll ever have a day like this again. I haven't laughed or cried or remenisced or made memories like I have this week in all of my life. One of the richest blessings that God has lavished on us has to be, no holds barred, the friendship that Christians have because of Christ. Relationships with people of like faith nurture us in ways that nothing else can. I am rich, even when we're broke, because of my family and my friends. People all around me lift me up and encourage me, cheering me on in the race, and when I can't physically hear them, they are praying for me. How can it be that God in all of the mystery and wonder that is His would place in my life so many people that really truly love me for who I am and with my countless flaws? I am more than blessed, I'm in awe.
We're moving to California in four days. I feel relaxed, drinking my coffee, chatting on the telephone, moving slowly through my day, but my mind and body tell me otherwise. In the midst of conversation there are gaps because I can't bring the word to mind that I want. I love words. Words are like sweet candy in my world and I can't find them or use them well because of the mental capacity overload that I am denying by my actions but is evidenced by the constant churning in my stomach. I am laughing more than crying, which is good, but that will come in time. Life is good, but I am swimming in the overwhelmingness of my present. It will all settle again in the weeks to come and I won't be so scattered, but for now this is what I am. SO PRAY FOR ME, my sweet and wonderful friends, and know that I am praying for you as you call or stop by or come to mind.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Thirty-One
As of seventeen minutes ago, I am thirty-one. I'm officially in my thirties. I was thirty last year; this year I am embarking on my thirties- some more than thirty. I'm thirty-one and this is what I know.
1. I have found true love.
2. I have learned how to love truly.
3. Children breed life.
4. Laughter is good medicine.
5. Kindness does not equal politeness.
6. Talk less, live more.
7. I am not a good listener but I'm learning.
8. Family is forever.
9. Acceptance is freedom.
10. Don't make excuses. Your friends don't need them and your enemies don't believe them.
11. Hard work is invigorating.
12. Music, fresh air, and sunshine chase the blues away.
13. The Word of God is LIFE.
14. Hope is my worldview.
15. Appearances tell lies.
16. My favorite place is the backyard.
17. You really only need five good friends, and sometimes only four.
18. Wardrobe is how you wear it, not what you're wearing.
19. Clean house because it's a responsibility, not just for company.
20. Slow and steady makes Mommy a lot nicer.
21. Sugar makes me fat.
22. Exercise kills me and gives me new life.
23. Dance parties in the living room. Just do it.
24. I still care what people think.
25. I am totally and completely in love with Dale.
26. I'm really glad I never started smoking.
27. I wish I never would've started Starbucks.
28. My kids are the most mesmerizing little people I've ever known.
29. Writing gives me wings.
30. I'm a dreamer.
31. Life goes faster every year. Live now.
1. I have found true love.
2. I have learned how to love truly.
3. Children breed life.
4. Laughter is good medicine.
5. Kindness does not equal politeness.
6. Talk less, live more.
7. I am not a good listener but I'm learning.
8. Family is forever.
9. Acceptance is freedom.
10. Don't make excuses. Your friends don't need them and your enemies don't believe them.
11. Hard work is invigorating.
12. Music, fresh air, and sunshine chase the blues away.
13. The Word of God is LIFE.
14. Hope is my worldview.
15. Appearances tell lies.
16. My favorite place is the backyard.
17. You really only need five good friends, and sometimes only four.
18. Wardrobe is how you wear it, not what you're wearing.
19. Clean house because it's a responsibility, not just for company.
20. Slow and steady makes Mommy a lot nicer.
21. Sugar makes me fat.
22. Exercise kills me and gives me new life.
23. Dance parties in the living room. Just do it.
24. I still care what people think.
25. I am totally and completely in love with Dale.
26. I'm really glad I never started smoking.
27. I wish I never would've started Starbucks.
28. My kids are the most mesmerizing little people I've ever known.
29. Writing gives me wings.
30. I'm a dreamer.
31. Life goes faster every year. Live now.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Good Things
Moving has yet to top my *favorite things* list, but there are perks. Like the countless loads of neglected toys that find new homes via the Goodwill, the hundreds of pounds of garbage that are lifted from our habitation, and my personal favorite, the journey down memory lane.
In a stack of unmarked VHS tapes I found my wedding video. This year marks our eleventh anniversary and a deeper dive into the boundless love that is ours because of Christ. I watched with tears rolling down my cheeks surrounded by our childern in the life that is ours because of Christ. What was really fascinating to me was the love that we felt with such intensity for each other when we barely knew one another, I could see it in our eyes. It was the same look that I have in my eyes now only it was naive and innocent and untainted and shallow. Depth comes with trial and perseverance and suffering and pushing past what seems hopeless to attain what is hoped for.
I cry so easily these days... maybe it really is the overwhelming situations that I continue to find myself in, but I don't think so. It's true; I'm sad, and nervous, and pre-lonely, but I don't think that's it either. I think it's that in this life, I have everything. I have everything this life has to offer. We have health and hope and peace and family that sticks and loves each other deeply and almost inexpressibly. I think they are tears of gratitude for the goodness that my God, who is generous and defines love, has lavished on someone so unworthy of any good thing.
So when I read your emails so full of anguish, I cry, because I've been there and will be there again hoping someone is crying with me and praying for my peace as I am for you, knowing that on the other side there is rest for God's people.
In a stack of unmarked VHS tapes I found my wedding video. This year marks our eleventh anniversary and a deeper dive into the boundless love that is ours because of Christ. I watched with tears rolling down my cheeks surrounded by our childern in the life that is ours because of Christ. What was really fascinating to me was the love that we felt with such intensity for each other when we barely knew one another, I could see it in our eyes. It was the same look that I have in my eyes now only it was naive and innocent and untainted and shallow. Depth comes with trial and perseverance and suffering and pushing past what seems hopeless to attain what is hoped for.
I cry so easily these days... maybe it really is the overwhelming situations that I continue to find myself in, but I don't think so. It's true; I'm sad, and nervous, and pre-lonely, but I don't think that's it either. I think it's that in this life, I have everything. I have everything this life has to offer. We have health and hope and peace and family that sticks and loves each other deeply and almost inexpressibly. I think they are tears of gratitude for the goodness that my God, who is generous and defines love, has lavished on someone so unworthy of any good thing.
So when I read your emails so full of anguish, I cry, because I've been there and will be there again hoping someone is crying with me and praying for my peace as I am for you, knowing that on the other side there is rest for God's people.
Friday, May 18, 2007
April showers bring May flowers
In the sixth grade I lived two blocks from my school. If I went through the front door, it was three and a half blocks, so typically I went out the backdoor, cut through the alley, and through our backyard neighbor's driveway/parking lot. *side: He was an orthodontist, built a mansion with an orthodontic practice in the lower half. He's having a difficult time selling the house/practice.* When the weather was tolerable, older kids, probably eighth graders, would crowd into a corner behind his house in the alley to smoke. If it was cold, they'd hang in a tight group to block the wind. I never thought much of it; actually, my siblings and I would balk at them in disdain from our kitchen window, generally passing by with an air of self-righteousness. It was rare for me to be alone in the exchange because Jon, my older brother, attended the school across from mine so I always timed my departure to coincide with his.
In the sixth grade I had relatively short frizzy red hair that may have been construed in current fashion circles as a mullet. I wore glasses. They weren't the dark brown trendy 80s-esque frames that everyone esle wore; mine were blue. And not blue everywhere, but blue in clear plastic that faded in and out. The arms, the sides of the glasses, swooped down in perfect grandma fashion on each side. My favorite thing to wear with my blue glasses, was a blue and white striped wide-necked sweater, and a shell necklace that my friend Melissa brought me from Hawaii. Not a pretty white choker that is still fashionable, a long string of seashells that "chinked" everytime I moved. As a sixth grader, I was pretty hot.
It was cold one morning when I rolled out of bed at ten minutes to eight; everyone else was rushing around to get to where they were going. By the time I had dressed and brushed my teeth, which was really all I did to get ready for school, the house was nearly empty and I was forced to make the trek by myself. Scarffing my breakfast, I prayed that the smokers wouldn't be in the alley as I pulled back a corner of the curtain on the back door and peeked through the window. To my dismay there was a raucous swarm of jean-jacket clad teenagers puffing away. Of course I considered going out the front door and walking the extra two blocks to avoid them completely, but I knew I'd be late for school. So I had a little pep talk with myself about how I was eleven now and needed to be tougher and push past my silly fears of strangers and walking places by myself. Taking a deep breath, I put on my bravest face and strode through the backdoor and down the sidewalk to the gate. My heart was racing, but my face was stone cold and I was fearless... until I caught the attention of the oldest member of the crowd.
Remember when you were in school and there was always a guy hanging around the parking lot, sometimes he'd show up at recess and you thought he was so cool? He must've been at least 19 because he had a 10-speed and a cigarrette behind his ear. He usually wore sunglasses, an REO Speedwagon t-shirt, and only the cool kids knew his name...? You know the guy. That was the guy in the alley that day that interrupted the conversation of the pack to say, "Hey there, pretty thing," and smile an invitational smile.
Alarms went off in my head; I was panic-strickened. I was a fearful child, for whatever reason, but this was the first I had experienced immanent danger by myself.
I hurried on to the safety of the orthodontist's parking lot hoping there would be people with early appointments on the other side of that gate. Trying not to "run scared" I scurried as fast as I could to school and then cried all day. My teacher was so wise in her dealings with me. I was not only fearful, but often very emotional as well, so she drew the attention away from my desk by the window and went right on teaching like everything was fine while I put my head on the desk and cried.
The time frame is sketchy here because everything sat in my memory like the present; it may have been the same month weeks prior when a fellow 6th grader was raped on school grounds by a high boy who played to her general innocence and coerced her into the auditorium where he sexually assaulted an eleven-year-old girl. Someone I saw everyday at school was assaulted in a place I was forced to go everyday. And maybe it was two or three weeks before that when our there was a telephone call during Sunday morning worship with a request to pray for another church who had, minutes before, been accosted by a man toting a duffel bag full of guns and ammunition who randomly opened fire on the congregation. Both events troubled me deeply.
What changed me in those consecutive events was the reality that tragedy is no respector of persons and people are not generally good. That's a tough pill to swallow for a child. I didn't want to go to school because I was afraid that I wouldn't be so lucky the next time I ran into the drop-out that smoked with eighth-graders in the alley. And I didn't want to be in the school where grown up boys could just walk in and rape whomever fell into their trap. And the only safe place I loved to go was no longer safe from murders who had no respect for anything or anyone. I don't think that my fear was unreasonable.
Maybe that's why I loved Bonnie so much, my childhood best friend. She was fearless. While I ducked and covered in the face of danger, she stood with dignity, whether someone was threatening her or tornadoes were spinning above the mall where we were shopping. She was fearless.
Regardless of the turbulence of the sixth grade, God has given me wisdom in this one thing that enables me to sleep at night in this truly fallen world. In life there are countless tragedies that could devastate a person, not just wierdos and their antics, but sickness, danger, poverty, natural disaster. We live in the archer's attack on Braveheart and the arrows are tragedies. Our only defense is salvation. God is the umbrella, the shield around us, and He allows only the arrows of His choosing under the cover of His mercy, and that to change us and build endurance. *Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance.*
So I'm thankful that God has chosen the events of my course and will craft in me the character of His goodness in due time.
In the sixth grade I had relatively short frizzy red hair that may have been construed in current fashion circles as a mullet. I wore glasses. They weren't the dark brown trendy 80s-esque frames that everyone esle wore; mine were blue. And not blue everywhere, but blue in clear plastic that faded in and out. The arms, the sides of the glasses, swooped down in perfect grandma fashion on each side. My favorite thing to wear with my blue glasses, was a blue and white striped wide-necked sweater, and a shell necklace that my friend Melissa brought me from Hawaii. Not a pretty white choker that is still fashionable, a long string of seashells that "chinked" everytime I moved. As a sixth grader, I was pretty hot.
It was cold one morning when I rolled out of bed at ten minutes to eight; everyone else was rushing around to get to where they were going. By the time I had dressed and brushed my teeth, which was really all I did to get ready for school, the house was nearly empty and I was forced to make the trek by myself. Scarffing my breakfast, I prayed that the smokers wouldn't be in the alley as I pulled back a corner of the curtain on the back door and peeked through the window. To my dismay there was a raucous swarm of jean-jacket clad teenagers puffing away. Of course I considered going out the front door and walking the extra two blocks to avoid them completely, but I knew I'd be late for school. So I had a little pep talk with myself about how I was eleven now and needed to be tougher and push past my silly fears of strangers and walking places by myself. Taking a deep breath, I put on my bravest face and strode through the backdoor and down the sidewalk to the gate. My heart was racing, but my face was stone cold and I was fearless... until I caught the attention of the oldest member of the crowd.
Remember when you were in school and there was always a guy hanging around the parking lot, sometimes he'd show up at recess and you thought he was so cool? He must've been at least 19 because he had a 10-speed and a cigarrette behind his ear. He usually wore sunglasses, an REO Speedwagon t-shirt, and only the cool kids knew his name...? You know the guy. That was the guy in the alley that day that interrupted the conversation of the pack to say, "Hey there, pretty thing," and smile an invitational smile.
Alarms went off in my head; I was panic-strickened. I was a fearful child, for whatever reason, but this was the first I had experienced immanent danger by myself.
I hurried on to the safety of the orthodontist's parking lot hoping there would be people with early appointments on the other side of that gate. Trying not to "run scared" I scurried as fast as I could to school and then cried all day. My teacher was so wise in her dealings with me. I was not only fearful, but often very emotional as well, so she drew the attention away from my desk by the window and went right on teaching like everything was fine while I put my head on the desk and cried.
The time frame is sketchy here because everything sat in my memory like the present; it may have been the same month weeks prior when a fellow 6th grader was raped on school grounds by a high boy who played to her general innocence and coerced her into the auditorium where he sexually assaulted an eleven-year-old girl. Someone I saw everyday at school was assaulted in a place I was forced to go everyday. And maybe it was two or three weeks before that when our there was a telephone call during Sunday morning worship with a request to pray for another church who had, minutes before, been accosted by a man toting a duffel bag full of guns and ammunition who randomly opened fire on the congregation. Both events troubled me deeply.
What changed me in those consecutive events was the reality that tragedy is no respector of persons and people are not generally good. That's a tough pill to swallow for a child. I didn't want to go to school because I was afraid that I wouldn't be so lucky the next time I ran into the drop-out that smoked with eighth-graders in the alley. And I didn't want to be in the school where grown up boys could just walk in and rape whomever fell into their trap. And the only safe place I loved to go was no longer safe from murders who had no respect for anything or anyone. I don't think that my fear was unreasonable.
Maybe that's why I loved Bonnie so much, my childhood best friend. She was fearless. While I ducked and covered in the face of danger, she stood with dignity, whether someone was threatening her or tornadoes were spinning above the mall where we were shopping. She was fearless.
Regardless of the turbulence of the sixth grade, God has given me wisdom in this one thing that enables me to sleep at night in this truly fallen world. In life there are countless tragedies that could devastate a person, not just wierdos and their antics, but sickness, danger, poverty, natural disaster. We live in the archer's attack on Braveheart and the arrows are tragedies. Our only defense is salvation. God is the umbrella, the shield around us, and He allows only the arrows of His choosing under the cover of His mercy, and that to change us and build endurance. *Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance.*
So I'm thankful that God has chosen the events of my course and will craft in me the character of His goodness in due time.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Doxology
I used to love animals, when I was a kid. We had a houseful of kids and a revolving door of animals, revolving from this life to the next. We also lived in a huge house and lost a lots of animals- hamsters, gerbils, garter snakes, most of which we found; so when we lost the first hamster in our household of late, I hunted until they were found. Somehow three hamsters survived the move from Missouri to Nebraska, which I wasn't counting on, and the saga continued.
We were all devastated Christmas Eve after a Sutton family tradition of loading up in our pajamas and went out to look at Christmas lights, to find the oldest and sweetest of the three hours from his death. The poor thing- it was terrible. We sent the kids up to bed and in five minutes the girls were hysterically screaming. Micah delivered the news to me and all we could do was sit and stare and pray as the kids cried and the hamster died. It was terrible. A week later on New Years Eve, with no warning, we found the next one stiff in his food bowl and we cried.
It is fascinating to me how God teaches us to live and cope through daily real life occurrences, preparing us for trials. Kennedy cried every night for over a week, and even after that moved into Jasmine's room because the sound of the hamster rummaging through it's bedding was comforting- the remaining live hamster.
You can imagine the reaction when Chocolate Chip disappeared a week ago. No one got too worked up until three days passed and I announced that he had probably died. Presumably, he climbed into the vent and got lost in the maze, eventually being burned up by the heater. We never smelled him, but I couldn't imagine him surviving after three days. Jasmine's sadness was contagious; I found her by herself sobbing and could feel the inconsolable sadness. It broke my heart. My children have learned to grieve through this process, an invaluable, unteachable life lesson. Thank You, God.
And now a lesson on faith.
Sarah woke me at 6:30 yesterday morning to tell me she heard *rodent noises* in the ceiling panels. I scurried down the stairs and set a trap for the little guy, praying but not believing that it wasn't a mouse, and sat by the wall listening to his scratching and climbing and chewing for an hour. He retreated to sleep early (they're nocturnal) and I went about the laundry and prayed. Elation...? is what I feel right now. Sarah came upstairs this morning with two fuzzy pink socks on her hands holding our hamster, who has travelled from death, we thought, to life! He is safely in his cage napping now. I literally have butterflies in my stomach over bringing him back to Jasmine, who is still sleeping and totally unaware. Last night she prayed that we would find Chocolate Chip and that he wouldn't be dead.
God loves children so much that in this fallen world where there is war and hunger and domestic violence and every kind of evil, He answered our prayers for Chocolate Chip, and for that I will praise Him.
Praise God from Whom all blessings flow
Praise Him all creatures here below
Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts
Praise Father Son and Holy Ghost
Amen
We were all devastated Christmas Eve after a Sutton family tradition of loading up in our pajamas and went out to look at Christmas lights, to find the oldest and sweetest of the three hours from his death. The poor thing- it was terrible. We sent the kids up to bed and in five minutes the girls were hysterically screaming. Micah delivered the news to me and all we could do was sit and stare and pray as the kids cried and the hamster died. It was terrible. A week later on New Years Eve, with no warning, we found the next one stiff in his food bowl and we cried.
It is fascinating to me how God teaches us to live and cope through daily real life occurrences, preparing us for trials. Kennedy cried every night for over a week, and even after that moved into Jasmine's room because the sound of the hamster rummaging through it's bedding was comforting- the remaining live hamster.
You can imagine the reaction when Chocolate Chip disappeared a week ago. No one got too worked up until three days passed and I announced that he had probably died. Presumably, he climbed into the vent and got lost in the maze, eventually being burned up by the heater. We never smelled him, but I couldn't imagine him surviving after three days. Jasmine's sadness was contagious; I found her by herself sobbing and could feel the inconsolable sadness. It broke my heart. My children have learned to grieve through this process, an invaluable, unteachable life lesson. Thank You, God.
And now a lesson on faith.
Sarah woke me at 6:30 yesterday morning to tell me she heard *rodent noises* in the ceiling panels. I scurried down the stairs and set a trap for the little guy, praying but not believing that it wasn't a mouse, and sat by the wall listening to his scratching and climbing and chewing for an hour. He retreated to sleep early (they're nocturnal) and I went about the laundry and prayed. Elation...? is what I feel right now. Sarah came upstairs this morning with two fuzzy pink socks on her hands holding our hamster, who has travelled from death, we thought, to life! He is safely in his cage napping now. I literally have butterflies in my stomach over bringing him back to Jasmine, who is still sleeping and totally unaware. Last night she prayed that we would find Chocolate Chip and that he wouldn't be dead.
God loves children so much that in this fallen world where there is war and hunger and domestic violence and every kind of evil, He answered our prayers for Chocolate Chip, and for that I will praise Him.
Praise God from Whom all blessings flow
Praise Him all creatures here below
Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts
Praise Father Son and Holy Ghost
Amen
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
This Was Good
Spoken universe out of the empty deep
creation pleading to be told to breathe
sea and sky night and day every star with a name
This was good.
Creatures of the land and sea and
every living breathing thing
flying birds taught to sing and
so it was and so became perfect beauty
perfect way and this was good.
This was good, this was God, and this was good.
Dust and mud the image of
God wrapped up in us, him and her and likeness
touched by hands of glory, hands of love
and this was good.
Rain to fall and wind to blow
fish to swim and beasts to roam and
the voice of God and it was so
its not good for man to be alone
This was good, this was God... and this was good.
Writer of the wings of wind
Your design and our sin
still has You in longing
All my head and voice became a world of disappointment
You're the One who is the same
the One who is still believing that this was good,
this was very good.
Living things both large and small
remember He who made you
Heaven and earth and all that is
recall the voice that saved you
This was good, this was God.
-rita springer
creation pleading to be told to breathe
sea and sky night and day every star with a name
This was good.
Creatures of the land and sea and
every living breathing thing
flying birds taught to sing and
so it was and so became perfect beauty
perfect way and this was good.
This was good, this was God, and this was good.
Dust and mud the image of
God wrapped up in us, him and her and likeness
touched by hands of glory, hands of love
and this was good.
Rain to fall and wind to blow
fish to swim and beasts to roam and
the voice of God and it was so
its not good for man to be alone
This was good, this was God... and this was good.
Writer of the wings of wind
Your design and our sin
still has You in longing
All my head and voice became a world of disappointment
You're the One who is the same
the One who is still believing that this was good,
this was very good.
Living things both large and small
remember He who made you
Heaven and earth and all that is
recall the voice that saved you
This was good, this was God.
-rita springer
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Divide and Conquer
We have anticipated this past weekend for months, knowing it was a long shot and that it may be the only visit we get to have with our close friends; our soul ties, for another year. So when it worked out for them to spend three days with us, and all the kids, we were elated. Dale asked Marty to teach Sunday morning and there was something he said that keeps coming back to me.
He said that when there is a battle in progress, one of the greatest strategies is to
*divide the enemy* because if you can split them up *they will be conquered.*
I can't get it out of my head...
Martin Luther was grieved because his work, the labors of his life and mission, birthed severe division in the church as never it had seen. He honestly believed that if he went with a right heart to the leaders, they would repent and rebuild.
This is dear to my heart especially now because when we talk about our church, the first thing people ask is, "What kind of church is it?" I want to say, "It's Jesus' church," but that's a foreign concept to unchurched people. It's even foreign to a lot of churched people. But it's true, if we truly are the body of Christ, all of us, then our name doesn't define us, our affiliation should be seen in our actions, not the location or title. We should be able to interchange with every other fellowship in our community and we are the same. We're Jesus' church. It's a little ideological, I know. But in my heart it's so right that I can't help but hope for the unification of the true church. How can I not?
Paul said in Ephesians, "Therefore I, the prisoner of the Lord implore you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing tolerance for one another in love, being diligent to preserve the UNITY OF THE SPIRIT in the bond of peace."
God knew that we would get on each others' nerves and that we would disagree. He knew we would hurt each other and that we would suffer difficulties in this life because of each other, but he instituted the church to function together in oneness so that when these things happen, we can cover each others hurts with love and continue in the race together.
It's work, it takes effort and consistency. As much as I have suffered the wounds of "Christians are the only people that shoot their wounded" I have also shot at wounded Christians countless times. It's a terrible cycle. But God has extended grace and forgiveness to me and I have to do the same in order to PRESERVE THE UNITY of the Spirit with my brothers and sisters in Christ.
This is what amazes me about the true church. When I am my brothers and sisters in oneness, I remember why we do what we do in this life. I am inspired to step up the measure of integrity that I live my life by. I want to be better in every way. Not that God isn't prevalent all the time, it just seems harder when there's no one beside me saying, "Press on! Fight the good fight!" And when I have it, I can do anything because my eyes are focused on Jesus. This life is temporal and eternity is real. It's where we belong, it's what we were redeemed for. And that's how we should be for each other. God knew we needed each other to go through hard things together, to sharpen one another and to push each other forward.
So run, Christian! Throw off the burdens that hold you back! It's only for a little while, we can make it together!
He said that when there is a battle in progress, one of the greatest strategies is to
*divide the enemy* because if you can split them up *they will be conquered.*
I can't get it out of my head...
Martin Luther was grieved because his work, the labors of his life and mission, birthed severe division in the church as never it had seen. He honestly believed that if he went with a right heart to the leaders, they would repent and rebuild.
This is dear to my heart especially now because when we talk about our church, the first thing people ask is, "What kind of church is it?" I want to say, "It's Jesus' church," but that's a foreign concept to unchurched people. It's even foreign to a lot of churched people. But it's true, if we truly are the body of Christ, all of us, then our name doesn't define us, our affiliation should be seen in our actions, not the location or title. We should be able to interchange with every other fellowship in our community and we are the same. We're Jesus' church. It's a little ideological, I know. But in my heart it's so right that I can't help but hope for the unification of the true church. How can I not?
Paul said in Ephesians, "Therefore I, the prisoner of the Lord implore you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing tolerance for one another in love, being diligent to preserve the UNITY OF THE SPIRIT in the bond of peace."
God knew that we would get on each others' nerves and that we would disagree. He knew we would hurt each other and that we would suffer difficulties in this life because of each other, but he instituted the church to function together in oneness so that when these things happen, we can cover each others hurts with love and continue in the race together.
It's work, it takes effort and consistency. As much as I have suffered the wounds of "Christians are the only people that shoot their wounded" I have also shot at wounded Christians countless times. It's a terrible cycle. But God has extended grace and forgiveness to me and I have to do the same in order to PRESERVE THE UNITY of the Spirit with my brothers and sisters in Christ.
This is what amazes me about the true church. When I am my brothers and sisters in oneness, I remember why we do what we do in this life. I am inspired to step up the measure of integrity that I live my life by. I want to be better in every way. Not that God isn't prevalent all the time, it just seems harder when there's no one beside me saying, "Press on! Fight the good fight!" And when I have it, I can do anything because my eyes are focused on Jesus. This life is temporal and eternity is real. It's where we belong, it's what we were redeemed for. And that's how we should be for each other. God knew we needed each other to go through hard things together, to sharpen one another and to push each other forward.
So run, Christian! Throw off the burdens that hold you back! It's only for a little while, we can make it together!
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