The High Dive

I loved going to the pool growing up. I'd slather the coconutty goodness of Coppertone all over my white, freckled legs and lay out with my girlfriends, munching on Bugles and sipping that new drink, Diet Coke. Everyone spent their summers there, and we had the aching lungs and green hair to prove it. Most days we laid out and walked around, or we'd sit at the picnic tables to share a popsicle. We'd dip in and play a little Marco Polo with the boys and giggle as they grabbed our ankles. Life was good at the pool . . . until (the inevitable) my friends wanted to jump off the diving boards.

TRULY. HUMBLING. MEMORIES. I was so puny and nearly translucent and stick-skinny. (Picture Olive Oyle mounting the ladder--but with green hair.)  Not an athletic bone in my body, I was all twirls and no cartwheels.  But my cute, tan, non-freckly, gymnastics friends--who were sporty and shorter than I--could fly up the high dive and back-flip their way down for hours.

I could pencil on the short board.
{Splash.}

I've been asking God to humble me because He keeps telling me how proud I am. And I don't want to be proud (or ignore God).  So, He and I have been at work. And it feels a lot like I'm climbing up the high dive.  I am filled with dread and insecurity and fear and I can't stop looking around to see who's watching. It feels hard and humbling; and, truth is, I don't want to do it. Can't we just lay out and sip Diet Coke?

Overcoming pride is no small feat, and we simply can't do it in our own strength.  But a life surrendered to Jesus is freeing. Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty! With all that resurrection power He exerts in my life, I'm pretty sure He can free me from my pride. And, yep, maybe it will be a little humbling (But that's OK, right?) because losing pride can be a funny, freeing, messy, self-deprecating, eye-ball-rolling, really good look at oneself (ahem)--like last Thursday was for me . . .

When I went to lunch with my friends--and with my very obvious period. I scampered out of the restaurant like a little weasel with my bag covering my shamed bottom in those light jeans. (And is it just me, or are our periods really weird in our forties?)  I hopped in my rental van--picture early 90s dilapidated goodness with BO freshener, an obvious devotion to Marlboro Lights, and bright, bright yellow, New York license plates--and I rushed home to change my clothes. Because I needed to go to Walmart even though I am a Target girl. (And where is the A/C in this van? It's 90 degrees outside.) And I was wearing cut-offs. (Because Walmart.) And I got dirty from the pumpkin bin.  And my hair was all smoky.  And I got a pumpkin patch of zits on my chin. (Thank you, adult acne.) And I was frump. And hot. And I felt like a New Yorker with a chain-smoking addiction and a van I'm going to live in down by the river.  And I see everyone I know. (Every. One. I. Know.) And there is traffic and meanie drivers; and maybe, God, I will shoot them the bird because I'm in an anonymous van.  From New York. So, technically, is it even a sin--like when a tree falls in the forest and no one hears, does it make a sound?  Just, please Lord, no more humbling.

Yes, my humbling is on a small scale. It's silly, really.  Like getting a "run" in my yoga pants and Starbucks giving me a half-caf, non-fat when I wanted a decaf, half-fat or whatever. I am aware of horrific struggles worldwide and know there are children in countries who don't have access to clean drinking water.  I know about ISIS and sex-trafficking and betrayal, bankruptcy, addiction, pain and suffering.  Ebola is in Dallas. I get there are bigger things, and I care about them. Deeply, I do.

But see, how pride turns the lens to me?

As my dear friend, Stephanie, said at bible study last week, "Pride is insidious."  She's right; it's pervasive and it spreads like a terrible disease, infecting every area. It blinds me to my own faults and amplifies others'. It whispers, "You're fine. Keep doing it in your own strength" and it lies, "Your way is the right/best/only way." It's self-inflating and crippling all at once--and just a dash of it will ruin utter trust in and dependency on God.

"Your flip and callous arrogance in these things bothers me. You pass it off as a small thing, but it’s anything but that. Yeast, too, is a 'small thing,' but it works its way through a whole batch of bread dough pretty fast. So get rid of this 'yeast' . . . Let’s live out our part in the Feast, not as raised bread swollen with the yeast of evil, but as flat bread—simple, genuine, unpretentious" (1 Corinthians 5:6-8 MSG).

Simple. Genuine. Unpretentious.

Want to join me on the high dive? Let's jump into the freedom we have in Jesus. (You can back flip if you want to.)  Let's big splash together and enjoy the abundant life God gives His children. (And also, want to get a Diet Coke?)

Jesus, show us our pride. Forgive us of our pride. Deliver us from our pride. Lord God, let us live simple, genuine, unpretentious lives that reflect your glory. Give us strength to mount the high dive as many times as it takes, Lord. We want to be free; Jesus, set us free. Amen.

Everlasting Arms

"The eternal God is your refuge, 

and his everlasting arms are under you."

                                                     (Deuteronomy 33:27)

I was looking at my phone when I fell over my dog this morning. My whole body fell forward; except for my left hip--she stayed put. I literally left my *butt* behind me. (Yes, I know, technically, it's always behind me.)  But I left it waaaaay behind the rest of me. This is kind of tough to do. (It would be especially difficult for Kim Kardashian, who in no way has buttock implants.)

I'm so glad I fell.

It's exactly the picture of what God is asking me to do in my faith: to fall into Him and leave my *but* behind me.

We serve a God who loves us.  He desires intimacy in our relationship. We need only trust Him. And this means, we've got to leave our *buts* behind.  No doubting.  All in. Really trust Him.

And I do.
Only sometimes I don't.
{If I'm being really honest.}

When trust is hard, praise God, His mercies are new every morning! Every day is an opportunity to yield to the Holy Spirit.  We are met, each morning, with an invitation to trust the Living King with every-thing! To give Him our fears, our failures, our hearts, our hopes.  To give Him our marriages and our children and our work and our friends.  To give Him our stress, our sickness, our struggles.  To give Him our strongholds, our pride, our sin. To give him all of it. To hold our emptiness up to Him.  To give Him our willingness. To trust--that no matter what--we're better off leaving our *buts* behind us.

Let's leave "what if" and "but not" and "if only" waaaaay behind. No caveats! No trying to limit the Lord God Almighty! Let's trust that His best for us is all we ever need.  He has wonderful things in mind for us; He tells us so, "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him (1 Corinthians 2:9)."

We serve a God whose open arms invite us, Fall into Me. Trust Me.  What a beautiful way to experience the unfailing love of the Father--resting in His everlasting arms.

Want to see a cute picture?
Meet my cousin Jeremy and his son, Max:

When we are in our Father's everlasting arms, we are safe and free to experience the fullness of all God has for us. We're Max! (And also isn't Jeremy such a cute Daddy?)

I know.  You can't stop looking at that cute picture, can you?

My mom and I did a big, "Eeeeeee!" when we saw it and our tummies and flipped and she said, "This is the picture of the Father's everlasting arms!" And I said, "Yes, you're so right!" (And all my bible study girls giggled because there are tattoos on those arms, and you know about my Adam Levine crush, and it's all too wonderful for words). 

Dear friend, let's start our day falling into Him.  Let's leave our *buts* far behind us--nothing is off-limits.  We are wholly His!  Let us fall into the everlasting arms of our Father and experience the vast ocean of His love!

Busy Busy Busy

I found it on Pinterest.  Because you can find anything on there.  Like these cute shoes.  That are from TARGET.

And these salted caramel and chocolate chunk cookies:

Here's the recipe. You're welcome.

I could go on and on because...

But I digress.

That Socratees quote.  It just sort of leapt off the screen and stared at me daringly, Go ahead and be busy--enjoy your barrenness.

We are wrapping up our first week back to school; and girls, aren't we already busy?  Rushing for what we forgot/need/want.  The black socks with the grey swoosh--not the white one.  More bottled waters.  The teacher's wish list items.  Another binder.  A light, thin-weight cardigan to wear over her shirt because the straps are only two-finger-widths wide when they need to be three-finger-widths wide and also it's 104 degrees outside so not too thick a sweater please and ps., it needs to come down mid-thigh or you'll be dress-coded. 

We are up at the crack of dawn for [fill-in-the-blank] practice, and we stay hours after school carpooling to and from [fill-in-more-blanks]. When asked for your address do you identify your street or the make and model of your car? 

I have already busted out the crock pot, crashed my iCalendar, and signed 34 jillion forms/slips/checks/orders/syllabi/folders. I've bought and sold discount cards, cookie dough, and spirit wear. I have 16 SignUp Genius emails in my inbox right now. 

Busy. Busy. Busy.

Because there's work-doing, laundry-folding, house-cleaning, food-shopping, meal-planning, lunch-packing, dinner-cooking, bill-paying, form-signing, errand-running, snack-baking, carpool-driving, coffee-buying, child-raising, husband-praising, picture-taking, memory-making, bible reading, church-going, list-making, game-cheering, sign-upping stuff to do.

And it's important stuff.  But are we called to do all things at all times? To always say YES? Be on all committees? Sign up for everything? When I hit "submit," SignUp Genius feels more like SignUp Sucker.

"All our busy rushing ends in nothing."

                                          Psalm 39:6

So here's a question: If Jesus himself didn't please all people at all times, what makes us think we can?

With all that running around, are we missing moments that matter? Like... time alone in the car to hear how his day was? Chatting on her bed as she picks out tomorrow's outfit? Snuggling on the couch together. Eating dinner around the table. Having lunch with your oldest friend. A long walk when it's not 104 degrees outside. 

Let's slow down and be intentional. When we deliberately fill our lives, they become pregnant with meaning--never barren. 

When we slow our pace, we open space for the Holy Spirit to lead us. 

As we start our new school year, let's ask Him to guide our steps--to show us where and when to empty or fill. Let's be obedient. And not apologize to others for it.

The name of our bible study blog is Utterly Filled.

Are you?

Lessons from My Daughter

Hebrews 12:1

"Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us."

Sitting on the couch with her over a pint of Ben & Jerry's, tear splats stinging the corners of our eyes, my daughter smiled and said, "The verse I've prayed this whole time, Mom, is that I would run with endurance the race marked out for me." 

And she is.

Thing is, we thought the race was more of a Fun Run, and she's in back-to-back marathons. She's faced some big challenges this year, and she's endured a lot. And God has been so faithful--every. step. of. the. way.

We've noticed when the shape of the course changes so does our understanding of God. Those uphill climbs, those twisty turns, those uneven paths build faith muscles. Trust grows! Dependency deepens.  And it is just plain good to be near God (Psalm 73:28).

And it is just plain good to spend time with my girl. We are laughing and crying and talking and praying and dreaming and growing and working and doing life together.  It is messy and rich and wonderful and hard and beautiful and filled with New York Superfudge Chunk and Peanut Butter Fudge Core. I love and admire this precious teen of mine, and I am learning the most wonderful things from her.

Aren't daughters wonderful? I'd love to hear what you're learning from yours too! XO!

Lessons I’ve Learned from My Daughter

1. The race thins out on the high road, but the sights are spectacular and the path never leads to regret.                          
2. True beauty shines in "Strength & Dignity" – not in Kendra Scott jewelry or a new jersey.
3. "God is good. All the time." It's especially true when the “all” part is hard.
4. Can confrontation ever be wiser than bringing it straight to Jesus? We don't always need better understanding from others, we need to better understand God's sovereignty.
5. Hearing and doing are two different things: always choose to follow-through with the doing.
6. Work hard. No matter what the goal is, work hard.  Go the distance. Never let circumstances influence your work ethic.
7. Humility is the reflection we see in someone who has received God's grace and fully gives it away. Give it away, over and over, freely and fully.
8. Pleasing others and pursuing perfection are impossible ideals that only serve as potholes along the path; run opposite them.
9. Be girly. Be smart, sweet, silly and strong.  Be free-spirited and joyful.  Trust God with all you’ve got. Sing loud praises in the shower. Be wise and innocent. Be tough, fair and fun. Be beautiful, talented and hilarious. Be strong and feminine. Confident and humble. Capable and Kind. Be 100%YOU.
10. It’s YOUR race to run; run it with endurance!

Our Amen

2 Corinthians 1:20

For all of God's promises have been fulfilled in Christ with a resounding "Yes!" 

And through Christ, our "Amen" (which means "Yes") ascends to God for his glory.

I just saw this on Facebook. And poof! Saw it, saved it, uploaded it here--all in 20 seconds. It is my cyber-AMEN. Yes, John Piper, yes! I want God to be glorified in me!  And I want to be satisfied in Him! Tell me more...

So I googled this quote.
4,670,000 results in less than a third of a second
And there are looooong YouTube videos
And seminary-ish articles with big words
And Piper has published a jillion books
And if you Wikipedia him, you can learn about what it means to be an optimistic premillenialist, a contninuationist, and a Christian Hedonist.

I have lots-of-syllable-ist overload because, basically, I am trying to scuba dive and my brain is like a little baby pair of flippers. Some help. {Splish, splash!}

(I literally just scratched my head.)

Ever do that? (Not the head scratch.) Ever search for something . . . in, a quick-fix place?  Like a blog, an app, a girlfriend? I'm often guilty of it. I want snappy, easy answers in plain English, please.  I don't want to have to work for it. When I have a struggle, I'd like a simple solution. A question? I'd like a direct answer. Discernment? Spell it out for me. I need it quick, too--like in a third of a second. Give me Google.

Thing is, God isn't Google; and we'll never find satisfaction in a search bar.  

Satisfaction--true, God-glorifying satisfaction--isn't found in a blog, tweet or post. It's more than song lyrics and a Snickers jingle. True satisfaction--abiding in Him and He in me--can only be found in One place.

Let's run to him, Dear One. Jesus is the only answer. Our AMEN. 

O God, you are my God;

I earnestly search for you.

My soul thirsts for you;

my whole body longs for you

in this parched and weary land

where there is no water.

I have seen you in your sanctuary

and gazed upon your power and glory.

Your unfailing love is better than life itself;

how I praise you!

I will praise you as long as I live,

lifting up my hands to you in prayer.

You satisfy me more than the richest feast.

I will praise you with songs of joy.

I lie awake thinking of you,

meditating on you through the night.

Because you are my helper,

I sing for joy in the shadow of your wings.

I cling to you;

your strong right hand holds me securely. 

                                           Psalm 63:1-8

Be Made Complete

2 Corinthians 13:11

"Rejoice, be made complete, be comforted, be like-minded, live in peace; 

and the God of love and peace will be with you."

I love the gathering of friends and passing of plates and telling of stories. The fullness of it all. Thunderous laughter. Napkins mounded on the washing machine as desserts are laid out. Women whirring about the kitchen. Good food, excellent friends. Our bible study kick off was over a month ago, and I'm already looking forward to our Fall together.

You know our little carafes? Mine broke today.
Because there are boys. 

There are boys who find sticks and wire on throwing knives to make them into spears. Boys who throw paddles and balls and darts at one another, and wrestle on the floor in fits of pain and laughter.  Boys who have no use for convention--Why shower when there's a creek, why brush our teeth when we're just gonna eat candy anyway?

In this case, boys who sweetly carried in my groceries for me and knocked over the little carafe. Tender, sorrowful eyes, "No big deal!" Actually, it sort of blessed me. My prayer was but a whisper ... I am this carafe, Lord.  Ragged edges.  Rough, sharp points. Broken. Jesus, make me whole. 

Ever feel that way? Like God can't fill you because you're broken? A beautiful vessel one minute and in sharp, broken pieces the next. Perhaps not broken--but you're worn thin, ragged and fragile? Like I-don't-want-to-get-out-of-bed-and-is-When-Harry-Met-Sally-on-TV-and-I-think-I'll-just-stay-in-my-jammies-and-eat-ice-cream-but-thank-you-anyway broken? 

Take heart.
Because there is a God.

There is a God who restores.  He puts the pieces back together again, this God of ours.  He knows there are bumps in life.  That hearts get broken.  Health fails. Kids disappoint. Stress rises. Dreams disappear. The enemy attacks. 

Life is hard. 

Emotionally we can wear thin and splinter apart. But God makes us whole again.  In today's verse He tells us to, "Rejoice, be made complete..." In Greek, it translates, I fit together; I'm mended, equipped, perfected, prepared, restored. 

We worship the Living God who perpetually puts us back together again--who mends us so that we fit together--in Him.  We abide in Him, and He abides in us (1 John 4:13). In Him, we are utterly whole. Amazing grace!

This is our truth--regardless of our brokenness, our circumstances, our fears, our sins, our fractured spirits. We are made perfectly whole. Again and again. Let's stand on each powerful truth:

I fit together.

I am mended.

I am equipped.

I am perfected.

I am prepared.

I am restored.

I am . . . also wondering how When Harry Met Sally is 25 years old? 

Dearest friend, the God of love and peace is with us. Let's bring our brokenness to our Restorer Redeemer and rest in fitting together with Him. Indeed, great cause for rejoicing!

Waiting Quietly

Lamentations 3:27

"It is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord."

If only my thighs were as thin as my patience. I hate waiting. I like things to move.  I like conflict resolved.  I want projects wrapped up.  Boxes checked. The light is green; it's very green; you bought it, let's drive it, Dude, sitting at the GREEN light in front of me, get off your phone; let's go!

Have I mentioned how much I hate waiting?

I don't know if you're waiting for anything or not; but if you are and it's tough, {Come on, Dude, let's go!}, there is good news for you and me. Not easy news, but good news.

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. I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him. The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord. (Lamentations 3:22-27)

I don't know how to NOT want it wrapped up: her try-outs, his schedule, that appointment, the big decision, those test results, the uncertainties in life. My flesh wants it over/revealed/behind me; yet, swift resolution would deprive me of a real gift, "The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord."

The Lord is good to me.

It is good to seek him.

It is good to wait.

Quietly.

As summer starts winding down, let us wait quietly at the footstool of our Redeemer King. Let us make our thankful petitions known and await His filling.  Let us lay our burdens and take up His light yoke.  Let us abide in Him and He in us. The measure of all the fullness of God.

We are Loved

"I have loved you with an everlasting love."

                                                         Jeremiah 31:3

Isn't it incredible?

Eternal.

Perfect.

Unconditional.

We are loved.

Today, is our last day together. Over the last month we've visited a wedding, a leper, and a virtuous woman. We've beheld God's glory and praised Him in Psalms and singing.  We've been lavished in His love, filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.  We've received it and returned it.  We've been the outpouring of it in our sacred homes, ministering to our husbands and children.  We've turned with filled hands to the needy and doled it all out freely. We are walking in His everlasting love.

Isn't it glorious?

Freeing.

Filling.

Unending.

We are loved.

This profound truth is more than I can bear.  It meets me wherever I am.  It is the best canopy over my life. No wonder the psalmist sings for joy in the shadow of His wings! (Psalm 63:7)

Beloved, sing for joy! Praise Him for His everlasting love.  It is a perfect love given freely to an imperfect girl.  To a wife who blows her stack {You just told them we'd take two Chinese boys?} or to a momma who loses her mind {Because you have to have permission to light stuff on fire!}. To a girl who fears for her health or the health of her children--or both. To the girl who longs for her husband to hear her heart.  To the one who worries about finances. And the one who worries about everything. To the one who feels self-sufficient and strong.  And to the weaker one who wrestles with her robe of Strength and Dignity. To the one tanned from vacation and the one who didn't get to take one. To the every girl and the super girl.  To all of us imperfect girls . . . we are loved with an everlasting love.

Let our joyous songs rise to Him this morning. 

We are loved.

The Way He Should Go

Proverbs 22:6

"Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it."

I heard their giggles.  But it wasn't until after.  My front yard looks festive as I type this.  Toilet paper blows lazily in the summer breeze, and my lawn is dotted with glow sticks--burning embers of last night's secret ambush. Although, the secret part only lasted a short while.  The giggly girls wanted the recipient of their hard work to enjoy his surprise. They rang the bell . . . and then knocked . . . and knocked again. They appeared and reappeared five or six times, giggling as they ran to hide in the bushes between attempts. Finally, Brody emerged, very grumpy {but very cute} and shooed them all away. They squealed in delight, a gaggle of tween feet smacking down the alley. Sheer joy.

There are many ways to let a boy know you think he's cute. You can have a friend do it.  Or you can text him.  There's also Twitter, Instagram, Vine and Snapchat.  You can smile, wave, and flirt.  And you can toilet paper his house. (Just to name a few.) The way you do it . . . well, that's up to the tween with hearts in her eyes . . . entirely up to her and her giggly gaggle of friends.

{We have been toilet papered many, many times.}

Today's verse reminds me that the way I love and train my children isn't a one-size-fits-all kind of thing. As their parents, the ones with hearts in our eyes, we choose the way that's best.

When my kids were young, I read this verse plainly.  Train up a child in the way he should go...  That way seemed obvious to me. It felt universal--train up my children to love Jesus and follow Him. (It's what we talked about on Friday--teach them what it means to love God, right?)  Training them up, meant saying "no" to inappropriate behavior and redirecting them. It meant teaching them bible verses {oh those sweet, little voices!} and saying our bedtime prayers.  It meant no ice cream before dinner, wash your hands after you go potty, say please and thank you . . . and most of all, it was all the love and snuggles in the world.

It's not quite the same with tweens and teens; is it?

I'm guilty of hopping on bandwagons, and I've got the bruised knees to prove it. I change it up a little every time I'm inspired by a Huff Post article, a Jen Hatmaker blog, a Lisa Clark Tweet . . . I've made sticker charts, goal boards, gratitude journals, chore jars, and the list goes on . . . all sheer inspiration from godly, wise sources! And I thank God for ALL they've taught me! I am a better mom for it!  Ultimately though, I am not as funny as Jen Hatmaker.  I am not as wise as Lisa Clark.  I don't have the voices of James Dobson, Robert Wolgemuth, and Beth Moore in my head.

But I have the Holy Spirit.

Beloved, God knows the way to their hearts. The effective means of discipline.  The perfect words of encouragement.  Their love languages.  He knit them and formed them together. They are His masterpiece. Let's go to Him. This morning, let's pray for wisdom in how to train our children.  Let's ask God for His eyes and mind to really "see" our children today. To love them as they need to be loved.  To pour forth all that He gives as we make our requests known with sheer gratitude. And let's listen. He will whisper the way--and it will always align with His Word. And our children, they will not depart from it when they grow old.

Teach Them Diligently

Deuteronomy 6:4-7a

"Hear, O Israel! The LORD is our God, the LORD is one! You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. These words, which I am commanding you today, shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your sons..." 

I keep writing and re-writing this devotional. It's uncomfortable for me.  It's easy for me to write about Jesus and what a relationship with Him is like.  I can talk New Testament, grace-based, Jesus-is-my-Savior all day long; but, when it comes to "Old Testament God" and His commandments, I stumble.  I don't like legalism and hate anything that smacks pharisee.  So I tread lightly.  And I try to wriggle out of taking on the hard things.  It's cowardly and "pleaser-ish" on my part.  So I'm going to try to push through.  

{Gulp}

There's only One God, and He's ours. He commands us to do two things in today's passage: Love Him with all we've got and teach our kids to do the same. 

"You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might." 

Awesome--and also, a pretty tall order. If I love Him with all my heart, He's the only one who gets all of me. If I love Him with all my soul, it's an inward sincerity (not just in word) to want to know Him. If I love Him with all my might, it's a strong love; I'm giving Him everything I've got. 

That kind of love should regularly cost me; shouldn't it?

We worship the One true God, but my cashier friend at Kroger doesn't; she worships Allah. She is wrapping up her month-long fast of Ramadan on July 28th. She has been fasting from sun up till sun down every day for nearly a month . . . while she works all day long with food. (Both her children have been fasting too, by the way.) 

I feel convicted.

Have we lost sight of LOVING God with our TOTAL devotion? Are we distracted by swim lessons and church camp and vacations and the SnoCone Lady? Is it just too hot outside? I've got a few excuses, dismissals, distractions, diversions, and procrastinations in me.  Just a few. Thousand.

Today, let's LOVE HIM.
Today, let's teach our children to LOVE HIM.

God's Word says, "Teach them diligently."  The word diligently is translated /shanan/ and means "sharp." In this passage it's a perfect consecutive verb meaning to continuously sharpen, whet, incise, and pierce. This is a deliberate, continuous act--that we teach our children what it is to fully love God.

There's never a wrong time to teach them to love him. It's important to God--so it should be important to us. His Word ensures so...

When we sit, stand, lie or rise--and when we're at home or not at home. Sooooo that's pretty much all the time.  And if we can't remember, He adds, remind yourself with jewels, ties, anything on our hands or face--the two places we and others will check it out.  Oh, and one more thing! We should write it on the outside of our homes because we're not hiding this Faith of ours--we're owning it.

I told you it's a tough one.  I've already edited it (again) this morning. Thing is, it's not legalistic. It's a relationship.  It's remembering that we have the most wonderful relationship with Yaweh. That He fills us, sustains us, equips us, and delights us.  And we are giddy, bubbling over--and so we share this love of ours.  We share it with our children. In big and small ways, we purposefully, diligently teach them how to love God. And that's something we can do on the way to get a snow cone. I get peach. Always peach.  You?

Home Sweet Home

Deuteronomy 6:4-9

Hear, O Israel! The LORD is our God, the LORD is one! 

You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. These words, which I am commanding you today, shall be on your heart. 

You shall teach them diligently to your sons and shall talk of them 

when you sit in your house and 

when you walk by the way and 

when you lie down 

and when you rise up.

 You shall bind them as a sign on your hand 

and they shall be as frontals on your forehead. 

You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.

Her flower beds are lush and her climbing vines are so romantic. When I walk up to Lori's home, I take in how beautiful it is. Truly gorgeous. And although I love her house, it's her home I truly love . . . because I know I am entering the home of a family who loves the Lord.  I know this because I know the Dunns.  If I was a solicitor, I would know this because it's posted on a small plaque on the front of their door. Is it Joshua 24:15? {I should double-check with Lori.} "As for me and my house we will serve the Lord." Whatever the scripture, their love for the Lord is literally written on the doorpost of their home. And lived out in their lives.

I have many friends whose homes reflect their devotion to God. I nearly fell over at Heather's house last fall--that banner above the hearth! I want to move in with the Grays, please; their home is pure love and joy and Canton and giggles.  And I can't get a bottled water from Shannon's fridge without seeing her cheery Scripture posted on the doors. Isn't it wonderful how our homes reflect what we value most? Framed pictures of those whom we adore, stacks of worn and read books, baskets of sweet fruit to devour, pillows crushed beneath the weight of the dog, this morning's coffee cups in the kitchen sink.  Our homes are sacred.  They are our sanctuary. 

It is here, in our homes, where so much of this passage takes place.  It's where we teach our children diligently about loving God. It's where we sit together for dinner and thank Him for our day.  Where we take a walk in our neighborhood and admire His artistry in nature. Where we sleep in His peace, and rise in new mercies.  Where we dress our kids in God's armor and slip into our garments of Strength and Dignity. It's where His Word is written on the doors of our homes, or on the fridge, or Expo-scribbled on the mirrors. It's here, where we show our children who God is--and why we love Him so.  

Home sweet home, indeed.

And, praise God, it's not perfect because there's lemonade on the floor, and so there are a kajillion fruit flies. And the "shoe soup" pile is growing at the bottom of the stairs (whose kids' shoes are those, anyway?). The laundry is overflowing, and there is not one square of toilet paper in this house ... but it's the STUFF OF LIFE. It's home. And it shouldn't be perfect.  Because Deuteronomy 6 isn't about perfect.  It's about being a family who loves the Lord. And  who love one another. And it's about parents who raise their children to know and love this amazing God, who hand-picked you to be a family.

Let's delight in our homes today, dear friends. We can praise God for fruit flies and stinky shoes and {yes} even laundry. As we settle into our day today and surrender our lives to the Lord, let's beseech Him, fill our homes.  Fill them, Lord, with laughter and joy.  Fill them with peace.  Fill them with silly memories and snuggles and love.  Fill them with compassion and serving.  Fill them with teaching moments.  Fill them however you desire, Lord. Amen.

I'm off to Costco for a whole lot of toilet paper.
And also, how do you kill fruit flies?