Happy Feet

He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;

He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat:

Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!

Our God is marching on.

The men sang the first verse.  It gave me chills to hear all of those manly voices singing about the coming of the Lord.  They sang loud.  They sang with confidence.

His Truth is Marching On

The pretty ladies sang the verse about the lilies, then we all sang the final verse.  I sang the words, then stopped and read the third line over again.

A swift soul and jubilant feet?  Not a jubilant soul and swift feet?  

My soul - the part of me that is in constant battle with the spirit.  The part that wants to satisfy fleshly desires; the part of me that tends to be prideful, selfish.

Oh, to have a swift soul - a swift soul that runs to right, to good . . . to God.  A soul that is quick to make the right choice, to bury selfish wants and desires, to crave spiritual over world.

So when the time comes for Him to sift my heart before His judgement seat, and if I have been faithful to have a swift soul, I'm pretty sure He will see some very happy feet.

It just makes sense.

Baby A and Baby B

Baby A

We saw her heartbeat first after a week of believing neither baby made it.  It was beating hard and fast at just 2 weeks.  Unbelievable.

Who would have ever thought that this little double-crowned head that turned beet red when she screamed as a baby would grow up to have such compassion for people and love for the Lord?

We did.

She is the one who would begin saying "I love you" and holding as often as she could when she knew one of us was about to leave for awhile.  When the boys went off to college, and Kayla moved to Edmond she would be clingy for days.  Her good-byes lasted forever and she really grieved the absence before it ever happened.

She is the one that many confide in, young and old alike.  She takes seriously their hurts and many times gets hurt by the very same people she helped.  It is a little sad to me that she had to learn that lesson earlier than most.

She is the one that chooses quality time over service or gifts.  She still likes to be held in the rocker and not rushed to get up.  She loves Breakfast at Tiffany's and glamourous things.  That is why we picked the hat and gloves for one of her photos.  It is her.

She is the one who was always coming up with something to make her siblings laugh.  She was pretty successful at it, too.  Many times Kyle and Kayla would be in tears and Adam would be on the floor because we were all laughing so hard.  She made meal time quite entertaining.

She plays her guitar or ukelele all the time and would much rather be playing instruments in her room than watching television.

She wants to please.  She is learning that ultimately it is the Lord Who has to be pleased, not any one else.  Tough thing to learn.

We decided that Hannah Elyse would be a beautiful name for Baby A.

All grown up now and with school behind her, she is ready to see what the Lord's plans are for the rest of her life.  Please pray for her.  She is beautiful to me.

 They saw the water fountain and ran for it for some "water pictures".  Hannah thought it was gross, but it didn't bother Leah in the least.  That is probably why Leah is healthy.

 Womb mates.

Baby B

We saw the first heartbeat, but they said the second sac was half the size it was supposed to be so this baby wouldn't live.  As they were measuring with the ultrasound, I saw a heartbeat!  They told me not to get my hopes up because it probably wouldn't make it and if it did, it would have serious issues with renal problems, etc.  There were lots of prayers for Baby B through the next 34 weeks.  She was born perfect, with no problems at all.

Who would have thought that this little round head with tiny curls would grow up with such a heart for ministry and have such leadership qualities?

We did.

She is the one, who at three years old walking through the zoo, wanted to be the leader of the family and wasn't scared of any thing or any body.  I remember being surprised at her confidence in herself.

She is the one who brought a little stool, pillow, and book and set them outside our bedroom and said that was going to be her bedroom "by myself".  She liked her alone time and quiet, which was hard to come by in a house full of people.

She is the one I caught staring at an electrical box on the wall, trying to figure out what all those buttons were for.  Now she controls all the buttons for her daddy every Sunday at church.  She wired up a light for me last year outside.  She loves that kind of thing.

She is the one at the dinner table during all the laughter that we kept a close eye on because if she laughed too hard, she would get choked and throw up.  We all became very cautious when something funny took place at the table.

She is the one who, every Sunday, makes sure her daddy has his mic with a fresh battery, his guitar, and anything else he might need.  At the end of the service, she makes sure everything, including his glasses, are put back in his office so he won't have to look for anything.  She takes care of him and doesn't want anyone else to do it.  She ought to, she was named after him.

We decided that Leah Cim would be a beautiful name for Baby B.

All grown up now, she is ready to see what the Lord has planned for her.  

Please pray for her.  She is beautiful to me.

There are Days

There are days when you just don't want to do.  You just want to be.  Sometimes there are several days in a row that you don't want to do.  It would just be better not to have to bless anyone with your time, your guidance, your voice.

It really seems very selfish.  This not wanting to bless.

You pull sheets up over your head as tears slide to your pillow because somebody didn't read the sign in the kitchen window.  The sign that told them what makes a momma happy.

There is sadness over sin, over gracelessness, and poison talk; over disrespect and unforgiveness.

You wonder about things that don't seem fair.  You question your worth all because of someone's thoughtlessness.

So you just don't want to give.

You just need to be. 
Just for a little while.

be:  • occupy a position in space        • stay in the same place or condition        • attend 
The only way that would be okay is determined by where that position/place/condition might be.  The only way that would be okay is if you are under the wings of the Almighty.
Go ahead.  Stop doing for a little while.  Crawl under those wings and be.

Jesus Love Me, This I Know

They didn't get every word right, but they were getting close.  Three little smelly boys in the back of the van; two old enough to learn the words, one too young to sing but old enough to laugh at their silliness.

Yes!  Jesus Loves Me!

Yes!  Jesus Loves Me!

Yes!  Jesus Loves Me!

The Bible tells me so.

They sang loud and off key, but it was beautiful.  The three girls and I were singing and laughing along with them and then I felt so emotional.  I didn't know how long we would have these precious boys, but my prayer was that it would be long enough for them to learn all the words to that song.

Then, when they go back to their own families - when they grow up into smelly young men - when they are struggling with life; maybe then they will remember these words and it will take them back to a time when they knew what that love felt like.

I came across a photo yesterday of those curls and that dimple.  He was looking down but I knew what those eyes looked like.  Those green eyes.  Those green eyes laughing, crying, angry, hurt, ornery.  I saw lots of ornery!

He's all grown up now standing there - almost eleven.  I looked over every detail of that photo.  For a long time.  Where have the years gone?  Does he remember us?  Why was he wearing an OU shirt?

My prayer is that he will never forget the short time under our roof.  That we had some kind of God-impact on him.  I pray that he remembers rocking in the recliner, playing with the girls, and riding in Michael's truck singing the Songs of the West - really loud with hand motions.  I pray that he remembers going with Jade to softball games on the Pioneer bus and dancing with her in the living room while watching Dancing with the Stars.

There is so much I hope he remembers.  If he forgets everything - if they all forget everything - I pray often that they remember the words to that song.  Oh Jesus, please let them remember the words to that song.




Linking up with: Women Living Well

Brokenness

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: 

a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise. 

Psalm 51:17

1) to crush, be crushed, be contrite, be broken
1a) to be crushed, collapse
1c) to crush down
1d) to crush to powder

I think having a broken and contrite heart might mean to be crushed! Crushed to powder. Some might think that is a painful thing. It can be, but I don't think it has to be.

Brokenness should be a way of life. Not a "woe is me" thing, but a servant mind set that desires to meet the needs of others. A practice that daily brings you to the throne of God with a willing heart to be used however, whenever He chooses.

Brokenness means He will increase and you will decrease. It means that you are willing to be inconvenienced. It is in those inconveniences of the past two weeks, that I have seen the Lord show Himself in great ways.  Drawing lost souls His way because they didn't have much time left.  I love seeing Him work like that.

It means that you lay your weaknesses and faults out and don't hide behind a "holier than thou" attitude. You are constantly in a state of sacrifice.

Sacrifice. There is that word again. I can not get away from it. It is constantly in front of me like a carrot in front of a horse. (I need to lose weight.)

What it really means is to bring the body and soul under the control of the spirit.   That process is a process of becoming WHOLE!

I am really glad it means crushed to a powder instead of pebbles or rocks. I am glad, because pebbles and rocks are difficult to work with. Powder, on the other hand, can be mixed with Water and kneaded until a lump of clay can be thrown on to the Potter's wheel. The Potter can then begin to turn the wheel and gently mold the vessel to the shape that is most useful.

There is no better place to be than in the Potter's hands. I just can't see how that is a painful thing. It is a beautiful thing.

That, my friend, is what I am learning in pursuit of brokenness.





Linking up with:  Raising Mighty Arrows, Our Simple Country Life