When The Midnight Meets the Morning

It is with some trepidation that I begin this post, because it departs from my usual tone and, frankly, makes me feel a bit vulnerable. But as the Lord exhorts us in the Psalms, "Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, whom he has redeemed from trouble." [107:2] So He has wrought a work of grace in my heart recently, and I feel I ought to say so. Without further ado...

Have you ever felt distant from the Lord? I mean as a Christian. Knowing you have enjoyed sweet, face-to-face fellowship, but knowing your current choices and behaviors are hindering your prayers and hiding Him from your eyes. 

This was me recently. I have been drowning in sin. The particulars aren't important here, only that I could feel it closing over my head and eclipsing the presence of my precious Savior. In fact, He hasn't felt terribly precious to me. I haven't longed for repentance, and I have felt the tangible barrier to my prayers, the hardness of my heart. I doubt anyone else would even have noticed, likely not even my husband, but I knew my inner attitude and was getting to the point where it didn't even bother me.

I'm ashamed to say I was grateful not to attend worship this past Lord's Day so that I didn't have to face the Lord's table...my heart was not at a place of repentance, and we are warned that to partake unworthily is to invite judgment. Was Isaac's illness, then, a small mercy of the Lord, as He had a plan for this process, to bring me restoration and not judgment?

It's not that I haven't thought about repenting. Repeatedly, the thought has been there. My eyes have been wide open and I've known what I was doing in my heart. But I simply lacked the desire for the Lord. This gave me pause, for in Romans 1, He warns of His wrath, and that His judgment takes the form of giving the sinner over to His sin completely, apart from His restraining mercy on the sin or consequence. A sobering thought, and just enough to prompt my heart to send up the feeblest of prayers.

Give me the desire for You, Lord. Help me want to repent, because I don't want to now. Please, God, soften my heart. Help me, Father.

How incredibly merciful He is!

He began by sending conviction through my words to others. Counseling clients through repentance and behavior change, I heard echoes of the Lord reminding me to flee sin, to develop a plan for escaping temptation, and that the Lord sometimes restores the heart feelings only after helping the believer to place one weary foot in front of the other, in a slow but decisive turn away from sin. In other words, much like the journey out of depression or anxiety, feelings often follow action. Ok, Lord, I should take action then.

Choose obedience, He whispered. You have been here before, and I did not forsake you then. I will not leave you now. I am leading you out of this muck and mire.

I slowly began to listen. I resolved. He soon sent bits of Scripture.

No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to man [1 Cor 10:13].

We do not have a High Priest who is unable to sympathize with our weakness, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin [Heb 4:15].

Flee temptation...your Savior is by your side, with tender understanding and not judgment. I will not beat you down with condemnation, but lift you up by grace.

These helped me bear up under temptation and gave me something to focus on besides the pull of sin and how justified it felt. So my choices began to improve, my heart began to soften, and I could pray more earnestly for repentance. It was so close...

Then today, the Lord ministered so tenderly to me through a Getty song - "Jesus, Draw Me Ever Nearer". I wept as I drove the kids in the minivan (you know you're a mom when...). God spoke reassurance, and brought a blessed, "Lord, I am so sorry" to my lips, softly, over and over. I felt my heart completely break within me, and the veil lifted again - my spirit at last unhindered from entering before the Lord.

Restore unto me the joy of my salvation [Psalm 51:12].

Better is one day in Your courts than thousands elsewhere [Psalm 84:10].

The sweet blessing of restored fellowship, and then, "Thank you, Father, thank you, my Lord." My Savior, once again precious to me. As I listened to the lyrics of this song unfold, my heart swelled in gratitude for the Lord bringing me through such a dark night to the morning. Truly He has restored the joy of my salvation and I find that I do indeed love Him even more.

Jesus, Draw me ever nearer

As I labor through the storm

You have called me to this passage

And I'll follow, though I'm worn

May this journey bring a blessing

May I rise on wings of faith

And at the end of my hearts testing

With Your likeness let me wake

Jesus, guide me through the tempest

Keep my spirit stayed and sure

When the midnight meets the morning

Let me love You even more

May this journey bring a blessing

May I rise on wings of faith

And at the end of my hearts testing

With Your likeness let me wake

Let the treasures of the trial

Form within me as I go

And at the end of this long passage

Let me leave them at your throne

[Keith & Kristyn Getty]

This experience has impressed upon me even more the importance of dwelling in the Scriptures often. I've been studying the book of Hebrews with the young ladies of our church, and committed the first two chapters of Romans to memory awhile back. Both of those benefitted my soul tremendously, as the Lord brought those words to me because they were already written on my heart. Surely He knows our frame as He instructs us in Ephesians 6 to take up the whole armor of God, including the belt of truth and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. 

Soli deo gloria!

Mama was Hangry

This evening, I stopped for dinner on my way home for dinner. You read that correctly. I justified the decision because the minivan desperately needed gasoline, and my sister in law was texting me about pie recipes for Thanksgiving. Obviously, the Sheetz MTO practically ordered itself.

And yes, I still ate dinner when I got home.

But this isn't about my gluttony (entirely). It's about the random thoughts I found going through my head, and my inexplicable desire to share them with a wider audience. Because if I thought my thoughts were hilarious, surely you will...right?

#1, on my way out the door at Sheetz, already starting to unwrap my MTO: "Don't judge me, I'm pregnant. My pants aren't even buttoned right now."

No idea what the state of my buttons had to do with anything, but there you go.

#2, putzing along in the slow right lane on the highway: "Wow, this whole right lane must be people eating their Sheetz MTO's on their way home."

Nothing like a little projection to assuage the guilt of impulse food. Yes, everybody else must be as self-indulgent and uncontrolled as me.

#3, approaching my exit: "I bet I'll have this finished in time to stop at the next Sheetz for something else."

Yes, yes I did have it finished in plenty of time. And it was a long ninety seconds at that red light as I willed myself not to make the left toward the Sheetz.

#4, not a one-time thought but characteristic of my entire eleven minutes from Sheetz to home: "That was the best $3.61 I have ever spent."

Imagine my delight when I got home to Joel already heating leftovers. Chicken and stuffing, and glazed carrots were the perfect follow-up to my six-inch on Italian herb, with every topping except the jalapenos, added American cheese (did you know they charge $0.40 to add cheese to an Italian sub? They know where to get you. It's like charging for grocery bags...you're obviously not NOT going to use them so of course you'd have to pay, unless you brought your own, and it just seems awkward to bring my own cheese into Sheetz. But I digress...), and their delicious fire-roasted tomato sauce.

Hopefully that'll hold me over until the 8:30 second-dinner hunger pangs strike. I must be carrying a girl, seriously.

(The hangry reference in the title comes from here....HT to Christina, this describes me perfectly, like, every day!)

Oh, the Deep, Deep Love of Jesus

I'm feeling very pregnant today, and discouraged about how pregnant I feel. That fine line between nausea and hunger, dizzy when I stand up, and so tired I could nod off mid-sent...zzzzzzz....

Sorry.

Bible study is tonight at our house, and it's a wreck at the moment. I worked yesterday and had a meeting this morning so nothing's been very well looked-after. While it's heartening to know that neither dadda nor the nanny can replace me in running our home, it's also slightly overwhelming to see what's left to do. Halloween costumes lie unfinished, waiting to be sewn together. Pots and pans line my kitchen counter, which is unfit for making dinner in a few hours, let alone hosting company and baking the pumpkin roll that I had hoped to offer them. Shoot, even my chocolate pudding is next to me unfinished. My stomach can't even follow through on that one small thing.

Honestly, I could cry. I blame a combination of hormones and circumstances. My feeling, my inner monologue is something like this: There is so much to do, so much I am failing at today, and I am not enough for it all. Wow, putting that into words actually bid tears into my eyes.

Can you relate? Are you a momma, or any hardworking person whose shortcomings sometimes (regularly?) leap up before your eyes, taunting you into giving up on your day, your dreams, yourself?

I am not enough. That is the awful, sweet, blessed truth. That same knowledge both undoes and saves me. "Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved." The same grace that shows my failings also lights the way to my salvation.

There is this great lie that we tell each other: "God will never give you more than you can handle." I'm sorry, but God has regularly and often given me more than I can handle. Nowhere and at no time has He promised to only give us what our humanity can bear. The promise is far bigger than that! God is faithful to overwhelm me, to crack and chafe my weakness into actual brokenness before His throne.

"For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives"
"God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline?"
"For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it." [Hebrews 12: 6, 7, and 11]

And the very next verse?
"Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed." [12:12]

And in Ephesians:
"For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith - that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Now to him who is able to do abundantly more than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen." [3:14-21]

Did you hear that, precious brothers and sisters? Though my head droops low, though my feelings and my very body tell me that I am defeated, empty, not enough, Christ dwells in my heart. I, rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend the vast dimensions of that love. Not empowered to clean my kitchen or tidy the living room, necessarily. And perhaps not even strengthened to rise from the couch in the next hour. But the strength in my inner being to simply be turned toward Christ, and to be filled with all the fullness of God. I can rest my spirit and my body in that saving knowledge.

The Lord blesses us with weakness so that His grace might be magnified, as Paul writes, "But he [the Lord] said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." [2 Cor. 12:9]

And in John 3:30, "He must increase, and I must decrease."

God is most glorified in my weakness when I cast my eyes and heart upon Him, not when I wallow there and mourn my failure. I am a failure, but one who has been promised a crown of glory. I am not destined to remain exhausted and discouraged forever, but predestined to be adopted as a daughter of Jehovah Jireh, our provider, El Shaddai, the all sufficient. Before the foundation of the world, God promised me to Jesus Christ as part of His people, His inheritance of nations, and Christ in His work on the cross closed his fist around me. I am given and bought from all eternity. Far from a "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" or "God helps those who help themselvese" message, this is a glorious "you can do nothing, but I have done all things"promise!

So in my weakness, in my suffering, let me be reminded of my fragile state and great need. But let me also be moved on to great rejoicing and exultant song. The very longing of my heart after help from the Lord is proof that He's breathed life into these bones. His presence is life to me, hallelujah! The truth shepherds my emotions now, and instead of feeling empty I suddenly feel myself topped off to the brim and overflowing with spiritual riches.

"For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere." [Psalm 84:10]
and
"Enter his courts with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise! Give thanks to him, bless his name!" [Psalm 100]

Not only that, but what a metaphor is pregnancy - feeling so empty and depleted, but in truth, so full of blessing and life!

SDG!

My Kitchen Wall is Finally Happy!

Back when I posted about my first sort-of upcycle, I hinted that one day I would post a final "after" shot of everything up on the wall. The wait is over, loyal reader; that day has come.

Actually, please wait eight minutes longer while I go chase my daughter back to bed.

Also to prolong the agony, I thought I'd share that I totally just mistook a small toy walrus for a piece of poop in the bottom of one of my kids' bags. Because that is a totally plausible place to find that sort of thing. Welcome to my world.

But seriously, here is the gloriousness of my kitchen wall, complete with twenty-nine square inches of writable space and the craftiest little menu board you ever did see. The cast iron skillet just completes the vision of hominess, doesn't it? That wooden bread box was a particularly awesome flea market find in the mountains of southern Virginia for just $5 (I originally typed $55 due to my ongoing Vacuum Cleaner Wrist issues, but that is not nearly as enviable a bargain, is it?).

I know the menu board is just a liiiiittle bit north of where it should be, but there are some things you don't tell your husband when he has just finagled all eighty pounds of this stuff onto the wall and hung the menu board twice in the process. He technically put it where I asked, as the tops of the skillet and menu board are aligned, so it isn't his fault he doesn't have the incessant perfectionism aesthetic eye that I do. I will quietly move the nail sometime when he is off doing more important things.

Don't you love how I tidied the buffet for the picture but left shoes all over the floor in the background? Ah, honesty, you get me every time.

I Might Vacuum Every Day

This post is not illustrated because I want you to be able to sleep tonight, safe in your ignorance of what was previously living in my bedroom carpet.

I bet you are SO. CURIOUS. now about what in the world this is all about. Fear not, your curiosity is about to be sated.

If you are Facebook friends with yours truly, you probably recall a recent focus group/market survey conducted to determine the best under-$200 vacuum cleaner available. The consensus was the Shark Navigator Pro, based on friends and family who either own or covet this machine.

Since we're poor on a budget, we opted for the non-Pro version which, frankly, based on Amazon descriptions it is rather difficult to know what comes in the box. Based on the reviews, we concluded we'd be able to at least vacuum carpet and bare floor and probably reach the ceiling fans with some manner of extension wand/hose. Ok, fine. Beggars/choosers and all that.

We usually get our Amazon Prime orders in two business days but APPARENTLY large items "might" take longer. And even a "lightweight" Shark qualifies as large which...actually yeah. But understanding doesn't magically breed patience so it has been like a month (ok, five days) of waiting with dirt and toe lint and goldfish crackers continuing to build up in the carpets. Our navy blue bedroom carpet is particularly fond of showcasing EVERYTHING that falls onto it so I could practically count down to delivery by marking the layers as they inched up the baseboard.

I don't know where my daughter gets her propensity for drama and exaggeration.

Anyway, Joel arrived home from work today with a gigantic box and promptly incited all manner of excitement in our children for the new vacuum cleaner. It's amazing how saying anything with enough enthusiasm makes them think candy and unicorns are raining down from heaven. We pulled our basic Navigator out of the box only to find, instead of the lavender Shark Navigator, the white Shark Navigator Pro! And of course only the basic non-Pro attachments. I am still trying to figure out who ordered both and returned just the parts they didn't want. We've got the FrankenSweeper.

But holy moly, does it work like a charm!! Swivel steering, HEPA filtration, and a canister that opens with the push of a button. And it is practically self-propelling AND the canister and handle lift away to vacuum the stairs with a small attachment. I vacuumed the entire. house. including the hardwood dining room. I even "made" Mikayla stay up an extra fifteen minutes late so that I could vacuum the playroom underneath her bedroom. (It was a real sacrifice, I'm telling you. She struggled through one final episode of Daniel Tiger in her purple kitty hat, with naught but her Candyland cards to keep her company. So, basically two-year-old heaven.)

The part I won't show you, because I love you, is how appallingly, shockingly full and disgusting that canister was after every room I vacuumed. The worst was our dark blue bedroom carpet. Double ugh. Apparently our Dirt Devil had been on the slow decline for QUITE awhile, or else we are truly slovenly people who roll in dirt and then grind it into our carpets. Actually that is really quite an apt description of at least two of us.

On the bright side, it scratched an OCD itch that has been hovering just below my conscious because I am feeling so stinkin' "aaaaahhhhhhh" about it all.

Unfortunately, I also quite overdid it and am now suffering from Vacuum Cleaner Wrist. Please excuse me while I apply ice and inspect the parallel-ness of my carpet lines.

My First Upcycle - Sort Of

This is one of those super-Pinteresty project ideas that has been waiting far too long for completion. Our message board/menu board/grocery list setup in the kitchen has been, to put it generously, lacking. Everything had to fit onto one small board together, except "Projects" which earned their own little board because there are so many of them. Here is the "before" setup:

Please note that yes, I am holding the magnetic message board up with my hand. It's small. It's beat up. And the magnetic strips have completely loosed their hold, which sort of renders it useless. Our message board has since been migrating around the kitchen, spending time wherever there is counter space to prop it up. It even spent a few days on top of the pantry thanks to my husband but, as he would say, "You can't teach height" so I used my ladder to retrieve it. Also, yes, Isaac's appointment card is being held up with pants. It's not my fault. My children discovered that the magnetic doll clothes also stick to appliances, and we now find pants, dresses, even whole outfits strewn about the fridge. We occasionally make use of them because hey, they are magnets.

But this is not about how classy we are as parents of toddlers. It's about me taking trash and turning it into treasure! The essence of Pinterest! Yay!! So here's my $5 "trash" window. Clearly in dire need of stripping, sanding, and painting. One August day, I rolled up my sleeves (figuratively, because it was August and who wears sleeves in August) and got to work scraping the thing.

Five minutes into my scraping, it felt like too much work. I grabbed some sandpaper to see if that went any more easily. Meh. Another two minutes later, I headed inside to Google "how to remove chipped paint from an old window". Partially because there had to be a better method, and partially because I could feel myself starting to sweat and that means it's time for a break.

Fast forward to a delightful "after" shot of my beautifully finished white window:

Isn't it SO impressive? It hardly looks like the same window, does it?

Well I fooled you because it's TOTALLY NOT. The same window, that is. My hard-learned strategy for refinishing things? Let it sit for close to two months on the back porch and then purchase another, way better-looking used window for $5. Everybody wins!!

(Does anybody need an old chippy window? I know where you can find one cheap.)

My two windows next to each other for comparison, with toddler shown for scale:

I think my new window, in addition to requiring no work whatsoever, is a better size for the message board project because the panes are wider.

So all that was needed was to put something behind the glass in order not to showcase the bare wall behind it, and to make our dry erase writing clearly visible. I debated using the fabric from my curtain and menu board, but didn't want to get TOO matchy-matchy. This will hang next to the menu board and I didn't want it to be, you know, "Much".

Instead I chose a Polo Ralph Lauren queen-sized flat sheet that I bought for making cloth napkins. I roughly measured the size and sort of eyeballed it as I used my rotary cutter (seriously, LOVE that thing). At this point, I feel it should be known that I learned better than this. My father instilled in me a deep appreciation for the old "Measure twice, cut once" mantra of home improvement entrepreneurs everywhere. I think he mostly followed it himself, too. But I had plenty of fabric and it was going on the backside of my window so...it didn't have to be perfect. In an act of sheer over-achievement I even ironed my fabric. A little Elmer's glue later (I went all out on this one), it looked like this:

It's a little plain, but I hope that next to my menu board and the cast iron skillet I plan to hang with this, it will all look nice and slightly rustic together. I don't know if you can tell, but the paint on the window isn't perfect - it has some scuff marks on it - but it also isn't chipping. Perfect for a slightly-distressed, interesting look to the final project. OH, and the big groove in the long side of the window, previously used to make it go up and down in the window frame, is now on top and perfect for holding a few fat dry-erase markers! I need my man to help me hang it but watch for a final "after" picture sometime soon.

Enchiladas and Hannibal Lecter

This morning I woke with an intense craving for Mexican food. As Joel kissed me goodbye at 6:45 a.m., I mentioned this to him. He appeared confused and, in a well-intentioned effort to be helpful, suggested that we have nachos and salsa in the house. Nachos, smachos. I was dying - DYING - for chicken and beef enchiladas in ranchero sauce, runny black beans and rice. I wanted it so badly I could taste it, and yes, this would have made the perfect breakfast.

This is only the latest in a regular string of pregnancy-induced dreams and cravings. In fact, this was both. Before waking, I had been dreaming of a delicious enchilada dinner at some random Mexican restaurant. Pregnant dreams are vivid, powerful, and linger long after you've awakened. Which at times can be awkward because pregnant dreams are also WEIRD.

Case in point, I dozed off again after the Mexican food discussion and promptly dreamed of Anthony Hopkins as a smooth, suave figure in a spy-movie-type plot that I can't quite remember but will probably make me feel uncomfortable any time I watch one of his movies. WHO KNOWS.

And this all interspersed with thrice nightly bathroom trips already. I'm only five and a half weeks in. It's going to be a looooooong (and probably entertaining) nine months.