Dirty Work

Okay folks, this is going to be another quick and dirty post because dinner isn't going to cook itself.  However, this post has been laying on my heart for some time, and I really feel like I need to get it out there...even if it's just so I can stop thinking about it!  But dirty is okay right?  After all, that's what I do...and that's what this post is about.

I've been doing a lot of weed pulling recently, both literally and figuratively.  I've done some weeding at a couple of Josiah's parents' properties, in my own yard, and in my heart.  I don't know when you all weeded last, but it's kind of dirty, hot, nasty work.

And that's how I've felt my blog has been lately because that's what I'm doing in my life.  I'm yanking out weeds, and it's gritty and grimy.

This has been happening so much that it's actually been frustrating me.  You all might not know this, but digging up the garden of my heart, dirt and grime flying everywhere, bleeding from the thorns and aching from the toil, that's not glamorous work...particularly with an audience.

Frankly, I've even gotten frustrated with God a time or two over it.  One day, I read this beautiful blog where this woman was describing her love for her daughter in the simple moments of life.  It was heart-wrenching and glorious, and the language was decadent and rich.  It was brilliant...and it made me ill.

I read it in the car (Josiah was driving - calm down people), and as soon as I read it I practically threw my phone down in disgust.  

"Why God?  Why does she get to write about the beautiful, amazing, peaceful, small moments with her baby, and I get stuck flinging my dirt all over the place?  It's not fair!  I have beautiful moments with my kids, too, God!  I do!  But noooooo, I only write when I feel like You're leading me to, and You lead me to toss my mud in front of everyone!"

Yeah, not the most mature and respectful conversation I've ever had with God...but it was honest, and He deserves that.

Fortunately, because I was honest, He was able to be honest back.  

"Alissa, he said.  You have been My child for a long time, but in that time you've let your garden go.  You're just now working diligently to clean it up, and therefore, that is what you're sharing.  As you clean the beds of your heart out, the beauty will shine more brilliantly than it could before.  Much of your garden has been choked by your pride and insistence on following your way; follow ME through my Son and through my Word, and I will make your garden more beautiful than you can imagine."

And then, my heart was at peace.  This actually happened a couple weeks ago, and I've been meaning to write this post but couldn't get around to it, but now I know why.

Gatlinburg happened this week (you can read about that here).  I was thinking about our wonderful adventure, and I realized that had I not been pulling those weeds recently, the beauty of God's awesome provision would have escaped me.  I would have stressed and fretted.  I would have done everything in my power to fix it, forgetting that I am a child of THE ONE TRUE GOD, and His power is infinite and "in ALL things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28).

I would have missed my beautiful moment because it would have been lost in the weeds.  I praise God because HE helped me see the beauty in it, and I can't wait for more of those moments, times when I'm able to sit back and see that all the hard work has paid off because HE is making my life more beautiful than it was before because HIS light is shining in it.

But until then...

It's like my beautiful friend Amanda Truth said, this is Life Under Construction, and construction sites are dirty.  In the end, you get a beautiful building that people can use and enjoy, but the dirty work has to be done first.

So, until God tells me otherwise, I'm here to do the dirty work.  Put on your hard hats and join me, folks; it will be dirty, but it will be worth it. (You could also join me by putting on your garden gloves if you'd like - I've begun to mix my metaphors a bit, but either will do!)

Mountaintop Experience

It was the best idea EVER. My dad came up with it, and it was brilliant. My Nana, who lives far too far away, was going to be in Gatlinburg, TN all this week. We had planned on camping this month anyway, so he thought it would be a great idea to surprise her by camping there so we could see her for a few days.

Great idea?! BEST IDEA EVER!

I love surprising people, and this was no exception. We even decided to keep it a secret from the kids.

So, after many long weeks of preparation and trying not to blow the lid off our diabolical plot, it was time to leave.  We woke the kids at 5:45 on Saturday morning. We had mostly packed the night before and had made the finishing touches before waking them up. We bid them "Good Morning" and told them to grab their blankets, pillows, flip flops, and sneakers and hop into the van.

Little Ryan was confused because it was "still night outside." Destiny asked if there was a fire. Emily asked if the war had started and we were fleeing to the woods to live off the land.

I eased their minds and told them we were going on an adventure.  They begged to know where we were going, but we kept the lid on tight.  Josiah created wonderful, personalized scavenger hunts for each of them which really helped keep them occupied on the eight hour trip.

Finally, we pulled up to Jellystone Park...and it was raining.  "Oh...we're going camping," the girls said with a marked lack of enthusiasm, but seeing Pawpaw putting the tent up at the site made it all better. "OH!! This actually makes sense now!" Destiny exclaimed.

"I don't go camping without The Master," I said.

After a bit it stopped raining, and getting the site together got a bit easier. Josiah and Destiny hopped in the car to go get some condiments, and an hour or so later my dad got the call...

They were on the side of the road. It sounded like the transmission was out.

*INSERT OMINOUS DOOM MUSIC HERE*

I won't bore you with all the details - we needed to have the transmission rebuilt. Sounds like a crappy vacation huh?

Nope.  It was awesome.

As soon as Dad left to go get Josiah and Des off the side of the road, I turned to God in prayer. I can't always say that has been my first response to apparent tragedy, but it was in this case, and God is SO faithful.

Not more than 5 seconds after I lifted my head from praying Emily said, "This must be a Christian campground.  There's a big cross on the playground equipment."  I told her I thought the owners were indeed Christians because I had seen a scripture in the pamphlet they gave us.  I pulled it back out to show her, and the verse I saw (but hadn't paid enough attention to the first time) almost brought me to tears:

I lift up my eyes to the mountains—

where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord,

 the Maker of heaven and earth.

~Psalm 121:1-2~

And then, I thought of one of my favorite verses: Philippians 4:6-8, and just as that verse promises, as I handed my burdens over to God, He gave me the peace that passes all understanding.

My help came from the Lord.

We saw His mighty hands time and time again during the trip:

• When Josiah broke down, he pulled over into a parking lot...an auto repair parking lot...the only one for a 10-20 mile stretch. 
• We got to spend some wonderful time with my Nana, her sisters Janie and Lorene, my dad, and even a couple relatives I hadn't met before.  We even got an extra day!
• My dad's air compressor wouldn't blow up our air mattress because the coupling didn't fit, but our neighboring camper helped us out, and it was exactly the pump we needed.
• My kids snuggled with one another to keep warm at night in the cold mountain air...it's the closest they've ever been.
• We were very blessed that one of our relatives could help us pay for the repairs (we'll be paying them back, of course).
• He made us stop.  Instead of going, going, going, we were forced to stay. We roasted marshmallows and hot dogs over the camp fire, sang while my dad played guitar, went on walks, and simply enjoyed one another's company and God's beautiful outdoors. 
• When we needed to stay an extra night, but Dad had to get back (and most of the camping gear was his), the wonderful people at Jellystone Park gave us a cabin for the price of a tent site (which means they gave us just about half off the cabin rate).
• We woke up Wednesday morning to rain...so we snuggled in the cabin and ate leftover pizza in bed (we ordered it the night before - which was picked up with the help of more wonderful neighboring campers.).  We played cards and got ice cream in the game room, and the sweet lady who works in the office put on Smurfs for the kids.

We were well taken care of each and every step of the way.

As my Aunt Janie would say, "It's a 'God thing.'"

We're home now, safe and sound. The van is all fixed, and we had a camping trip none of us will ever forget...one that could have been miserable had we not turned our eyes to God and trusted in His provision.

We lifted our eyes to the mountains. Our help came from the Lord.

Fanning smoke

Phinehas likes camping!

Somehow I managed to NOT get a picture of my dad!! :( However, most of this stuff is his.  

See the cross next to Ryan?

                         

 

Great Nana FINALLY got her hands on this baby!

My Nana and her sisters, Janie and Lorene.  Three beautiful ladies!!

We roasted dogs...ya know...hot dogs. :)

People were indeed shorter just over a century ago...or they ducked a lot.

Pizza in bed

Cabin #3 :)

Fighting Ghosts

I came face-to-face with the nastiest girl today. I've seen her before, but I didn't really pay her any attention, but I did today, and seriously, this girl was a pill. I'm talking all-out, temper-tantrum, sulking, "look-at-me," spoiled brat princess ever. She's a contentious beast who picks fights just to get attention and pushes away just to get chased.

Of course, it was me I'm talking about.  

Doesn't sound like the Alissa you know?  Really?

That's because I don't let her out of the box often. I normally keep her pretty-well reigned in..or at least, I thought I did.

The problem is, I've always let her sit pretty close to the surface - not so close that she'd be seen, but close enough where I could pull her out if I need her - and instead of just getting rid of her, I've tried to subconsciously control her.  

Here's when I realized this:

This morning I started thinking about how I don't feel close to Josiah right now, how I never see him, and yeah, he's working hard, but what good is that if I never get to see him?

But then God, in His infinite wisdom, reminded me that we fell asleep last night holding hands, and he gently kissed me goodbye this morning when he went to work...like he always does.

I've had these thoughts creep up before, but I talk myself out of them. I remind myself how hard he's working for us and how much he loves us and shows us that love every day. But today was different.  Once again, God put a small voice in my head that whispered, "But what if?"

What if Josiah wasn't working his butt off? What if I was working, too? What if we had plenty of money? Would I still feel like this?

Yes.

You see, the issue isn't really with Josiah; the issue is that Josiah and I don't have an issue.

Lost yet? I'm working on it.

Apparently, I have a hard time living without conflict. I've experienced conflict so much of my life that I have a very difficult time living without it. I want there to be something wrong so I have something to complain about; then I'll have something to fix, and I'll get attention. I want to toss grenades into my relationship just to feel the rubble rain down on me, to feel something heavy and intense.  I'm fighting ghosts.

I'm struggling every day not to sabotage my marriage...and I didn't even realize it until today. I've been keeping it at bay somehow, but not really addressing the problem. I've just been putting a band-aid on a gangrenous wound.

Part of me wants to delete this. I want to hide it away knowing that I've had my own little self-realization, and I can fix it, and no one needs to know...not even Josiah.

But, I can't. I know I can't be the only one. And if there is even one person out there who reads this and says, "I do that!" and she's able to repent and dig that infectious nastiness out of her heart (or his...this isn't a gender-specific issue), then admitting my filth to you all will have been worth it.

I feel so...awesome actually.  It feels so good to be aware of this, and therefore, able to get rid of it.  

Do not conform to the pattern of this world, 

but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. 

Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is--

his good, pleasing and perfect will.

~Romans 12:2~

That's what I feel has happened.  God has renewed my mind, and allowed me to discern His will; He wants me to have a strong marriage, free from unnecessary conflict and tension.

He wants me to be a loving wife, a blessing to my husband, not contentious and disgruntled, even if just in my mind or in my heart.  Because:

Better to live on a corner of the roof than share a house with a quarrelsome wife.

Proverbs 21:9

And even if I'm not outwardly contentious most of the time, if I let those things store up in my heart at all, they will always be waiting to spill out.

A good man brings good things 

out of the good stored up in his heart, 

and an evil man brings evil things 

out of the evil stored up in his heart.

 For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.

~Luke 6:45~

And I do love my husband.  I absolutely adore him.  I want him to feel that with every bit of my heart, with not even the slightest bit of it reserved for the fight I keep stored away for a rainy day.

Just absolute love and adoration...always.

Eating My Heart Out

Ever feel like a broken record...like when you say the same thing over and over and over to your kids, but they just don't get it.

Right now, my life feels like a broken record.  I keep living the same moments over and over and over, each time saying, "I'm glad I learned that lesson; now I can move on!"

But I don't.  I haven't.

*sigh*

Picture this:

Everything is fine.  I've made waffles for everyone for breakfast, and we're all getting showered and ready for church.  Everyone is happy.  All is well and right in the world.

But then I have to get dressed...again.

I hate getting dressed.

It's an odd thing for a grown woman to say, right?  But I really do hate it.  I hate staring into a closet-full of clothes that don't fit, feeling like I'm expanding even as I stare at them.

What to wear?

I actually have some very pretty things that fit, but let's face it - you can put glorious satin on a sack of potatoes, and it doesn't make the potatoes look better...it just makes the satin look lumpy.

I just feel awful right now.  Awful.

So, as I stood there staring at the clothes, the gnawing began, and by the time we left for church my heart was being enthusiastically devoured by self-loathing, the kind of self-loathing that spills out over onto everyone it comes in contact with.

My children wanted to know what's wrong and they asked me to cheer up, so I snapped at them.  Josiah wanted to hold my hand, but I didn't want to reach out.

I just wanted to crawl under a rock somewhere and lay there.

And, of course, we had to be going to church.  We had to be going somewhere I have to smile and pretend like the demon, Self-Loathing, isn't hunched in the corner of my psyche gobbling my heart like Georgie Porgie shoving in Christmas pie.

All I can think is, "Why don't I have any self-control?  I'm not working right now; why haven't I been working out?  Why do I let myself get like this.  I'll tell you why, Self, because you're lazy.  Josiah is working himself to the bone and you can't even put the fork down and burn a calorie or two." 

And the demon eats.

Maybe I'm learning a couple lessons after all, though.

On the way to church, I closed my eyes and prayed.  I didn't want to; the demon was having too much fun, and in the end, we're sinful, disgruntled creatures, are we?  But I did; I prayed.

I told God I was mad at myself.  I told him I don't understand why I'm this way, and thanked Him for everything He had given me and everything He has done for me.  I just can't seem to win this battle.  I fight and I fight and I fight and temptation and twinkies always win.  I gave it to Him though.  Right there in the minivan while Josiah drove to church I prayed and I handed my mangled heart to Him.  And do you know what my Savior did?

He healed it.

I walked into the church and instead of feeling like the walls were pressing in on me and I needed to get out, I felt enveloped by the people in our loving congregation, and before I could get to the nursery my heart was lighter.  In no time at all, I had forgotten my heart was ever-eaten.  It was whole.

When we took Communion, I handed my blackened heart over again.  I handed Him that sin of self-loathing and quite a few others, and as always, He handed my heart back again, clean and new.

Perhaps that's the lesson to be learned here.  We all struggle with things, sometimes the same thing...the same demon....

Self-Loathing
Gluttony
Sloth
Anger
Alcoholism
Greed
Pride

The list could go on forever.

But we can never stop handing it over.  Only when we stop handing it over to God are we truly defeated.  He wants us to give it to Him so He can fill our hearts with grace.

Lesson learned...for today.

Hidden Rewards

My quiet time this morning brought me to the book of Ruth. If you're not familiar with the story (or need a refresher like I did), I highly advise you to take a few minutes to read it.

It won't take long. It's short. I'll wait.

Back? Okay, we're ready to go then.

Ruth was a champion of loyalty.  Seriously.

She lost her husband, and her mother-in-law, having lost everything in her life, was hightailing it back to her hometown.  She sent both of her daughters-in-law back to their own people so they could remarry and carry on.

But Ruth said, "no."

She was faithful and loyal, not just to Naomi, but also to God. She was a Moabite, and hadn't grown up with the God of the Israelites, but she was faithful and loyal nonetheless.

Then, when they arrived in Bethlehem, she continued to be faithful. She worked hard and was known by everyone for her diligence and loyalty. She worked to ensure their survival, and she followed Naomi's instruction, and became the wife of Naomi's relative Boaz.

Oh, to be like Ruth.

The Bible doesn't say, but I wonder how hard it was for her.  I wonder if she spent some nights crying in anguish because she missed her husband (before her marriage to Boaz), or perhaps because she felt out of place and alone.  Did she ever get discouraged by all the hard work she was putting in?  Was she afraid?

Scripture doesn't answer these questions...but I'm thinking she may have.

I do.  Sometimes it's so difficult to see the end in sight.  

Will things ever improve?   

Are the kids ever going to listen?   

Can't the house stay clean for 5 seconds?! 

 How will we make it?   

What does the end look like?

God doesn't always give us these answers and we feel emptied by the mundane tasks.  Sometimes, the answers are hidden...

 And so are the rewards.

The last lines of Ruth list a genealogy that ends like this:

"Salmon fathered Boaz,

who fathered Obed.

And Obed fathered Jesse,

who fathered David."

(Ruth 4:21-22)

Obed, grandfather of David, was Ruth's son with Boaz.  God chose an unlikely woman - a foreigner, a widow - to the the great-grandmother of David, whose faithfulness was so great that he was given the honor of fathering the bloodline of the Messiah.

Thus, so was Ruth.

Did she know that in her lifetime?  No. 

Sometimes, we can't see an end in sight, but faithfulness can, at times, be rewarded generations down the line, in ways we can't even imagine.

So, when the going gets rough, and you can't see the end in sight, remember Ruth.  

God had a plan for her life, and He has one for yours, too...you just have to have faith and be faithful.

Linking up today for Titus Tuesday at Time Warp Wife. Check it out!

Picking Up My Sword

Good morning, everyone!

Guess what I have for everyone this morning?  A healthy dose of conviction! Don't you just LOVE that first thing in the morning?  No. Whoops.  We're going there anyway.

I, along with many of my Christian friends, have been caught saying, "I just can't memorize Scripture" or "I kinda know some Bible verses, but I never remember references."  Like a spoiled rotten rich girl tossing fiscal responsibility out the car window, we as Christians are collectively claiming, "I've no head for such things."

But that's okay right?   It's okay that I can't remember Scripture because I know what it says basically.  I know the gist of the Bible.  It's cool.

Yeah...probably not.  Not cool.

Conviction doesn't always hit you in the face like a hammer.  Sometimes it starts slowly and just starts to burn a bit...like hot coals warming up on the grill.  

The embers were first lit while listening to a sermon in the car by Dr. David Jeremiah.  My mother-in-law lent me a whole series on Spiritual Warfare forever ago, but I didn't start listening to them until recently.  

In the series, Dr. Jeremiah expounds upon the spiritual battle we all face as Christians and the spiritual armor we all need to fight the battle, which is found in Ephesians 6:10-18. 

We're at the end of the series now: we've reached the Sword of Truth, which is the Word of God.

I always thought the "sword" was the Word as a whole.  Dr. Jeremiah said he's even seen people refer to their Bibles as their swords...but that's not actually the case.

Greek is a tricky language.

In the Bible, the whole Word of God, or the message of God, in Greek is logos (pronounced Low-goss). When Jesus is referred to as "the Word" in Scripture, it is the term logos that is used, if I'm not mistaken.

However, that is not the word used in the Bible in Ephesians 6:17 when Paul says:

Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit,

which is the word of God.

Here "word" is the Greek word Rhema (Ray-mah); literally, it means "utterance," but contextually it means the Word of God applied to your situation...the Word of God written on your heart and spoken directly to you.

Confused yet?  Hang on--we'll get through, I promise.

Dr. Jeremiah explained it like this: The Bible is not the sword.  The Bible is the armory, which contains many swords.  When you read a verse (logos) and it speaks directly to your heart, in your situation, it becomes your sword (rhema)...God's word TO YOU.

That's crazy powerful, right?

The issue is, even when God speaks to our hearts through his Word, when he writes those words directly onto our souls, we're dropping them.  Can you imagine?  God is handing us gifts, and then, after the crisis, after the moment, after the turning point, we just drop it. He's handing us swords--personal, intimate gifts from him to us--and we're dropping them.

Then, the fiery coals of conviction got hotter when I went to an Awana leaders' meeting where we watched a video and one of the founders was speaking on the importance of memorizing Scripture.  This 90-odd year old man recited an entire Chapter of Isaiah (53) with passion and emotion, and he challenged leaders to do the same.

Ya see, even Awana leaders, people who are teaching children to memorize Scripture are not doing it themselves...like our brains are too old and addled for such nonsense. 

Poppycock.

We're wrong--just plain wrong. He knows it. Dr. David Jeremiah knows it. I know it.

And now...so do you.

Let me ask you something...

Can you quote your favorite movies?  Word for word?

What about your favorite songs?  Sing them at the top of your lungs?

How about your kids' favorite movies?  The ones you don't even like, but you've heard them as background noise for so long that you just know them...memorize those?

You mean, your brain doesn't freeze and go into a coma when you start to quote those things?  Huh...that's interesting.  Wonder why it's different?  

Well, duh, we know why it's different right?  We've heard and seen those movies and songs over and over and over.

DOH!  That's the clincher...that's the sword to the heart.

Maybe we should be in God's Word 

more than Hollywood or the radio.

Yup. Convicting right?

I challenge you: today memorize a Bible verse.  Today.  Sit down, open your Bible, and memorize a verse and the reference (where it's found in the Bible).  I guarantee you can do it...probably in ten minutes...or less.

You see, that's what I've found in all this.  It's not that I CAN'T memorize Scripture, it's that I DON'T, and those are two entirely different words.

Here's the deal, folks, the sword isn't doing you any good in the armory.  Only when you take up your sword(s) are you equipped to do battle in the spiritual war that is raging around you (and it is, whether you like it or not...whether you acknowledge it or not).

Body of Christ, I'm begging you--pick up your swords.