Know Your Enemy

I heard a sermon today on backsliding.

I felt convicted and I was surprised.  Me? I'm not back-slidden!  (self-righteous much?)

So here I am at 9:20 something at night confessing God's work in my heart.  Because even though I have a houseful of busy kids God's been with me right along, all day, working on me.

I began to write down this afternoon the things that draw my heart away.  Quite frankly, the things that I run to when I'm stressed.  Facebook.  Free TV on the internet.  A phone call to Mom...or whoever will just pick up the other end of the line.  

God wants me to run to Him when I'm stressed.

So I'm looking at this list of time-wasters, time-drainers.  And I'm realizing how all of the justifications I've been using are pretty lame.  Most of what I've been reading/watching/doing really isn't God-glorifying kinds of stuff.  It's pretty much garbage.  I'M pretty much -- Back-slidden?  Huh.  Look at that.  God makes really great mirrors.

Thank God for other-people mirrors.

Because I've been clinging pretty tight to my little house idols.  I've been hiding them under the floor.

TWICE this week I told strangers how inspirational and disciplined my sweet sister in law Amy is.  And how I'm NOT.  And the Holy Spirit echoed my words in my ears and said I CHOOSE to be undisciplined.  My choice.  Not my identity.  And that if I wanted to?  HE would CHANGE me.  Just like that.

And so we looked at my list.  Me and God.  My list of garbage.  And I asked Him....

Are you big enough to help me with this?

And He said, Do you Love Me?  Because I've already delivered you.

You are Free.

And then He said, Let's look at that list again.  Because you have an Enemy.  And your Enemy is going to come at you with the temptations on that list on Monday morning, when you're alone, and weak, and just like last time, you will WANT to be a slave to your own selfish desires.

and He said, KNOW YOUR ENEMY.

And I knew this was a battle, and I wanted to win it.

So I looked at my list, and I asked myself, which is bigger, my desire for these things or my LOVE for Jesus?

THE THIEF DOES NOT COME EXCEPT TO STEAL (my time) AND TO KILL(my joy), and DESTROY (my peace).  I HAVE COME THAT THEY MAY HAVE LIFE, AND HAVE IT MORE ABUNDANTLY.

JOHN 10:10

I can expect the thief to show up tomorrow, but this time, I am ready for him.  This time, I see him coming, and I will make no excuses to let him in.  I choose.  I am no slave to sin.  I am born again.

I Choose Life.

I Choose Jesus.

Only You

A bit earlier I laid a treasure down in a crib and he smiled at me. Smiled at me and then drifted off to sleep without so much as a whimper. I am blessed. I thought how easy this baby fits into the family. He sleeps, eats, and laughs well. This is a reminder of how the Father loves me... this gift He gave us, long prayed for. I remember the tears I wept when I held him the first time, a boy.

My gift from God.

Then the flurry of the early morning, hot coffee neglected and cooling on the counter. Scrambled eggs and messy faces. "Brush your teeeeeeth!" and breakfast dishes. The familiar tug of a constant temptation.

I struggle with the lure of mindless entertainment. When I want to relax, unwind, or when I am trying to escape into someone else's story because I am running from my own. Many moments it replaces important duties. More often than I like to admit to myself. It has confused me. I wrestle. I refuse to submit. Why me? Why can others can do this in freedom, but my conscience condemns me?

I have tried strength. (my own.)

I have tried fences. (my husband)

I have tried guilt.

I have tried condemnation.

I have grasped at Grace.

I have wept over my inability.

I have made excuses.

I have justified my actions to myself.

I have grieved my husband.

I have neglected my children.

When I am ensnared - I snarl at the ones I love most.

The times I rely on God, I experience His joy and the freedom makes me dizzy.

I have asked Him for a miraculous rescue. A supernatural change. But that has not been His way with this thing. This pull towards the emptiness of stories told with music and dramatic flair. I want it. I enjoy it. I don't want to give it up. I have a long list of very good reasons why I should give it up. I know of better ways to spend my time.

This morning I realized. He asks it of me. A gift.

Give it up for Me. No law about it but He asks it. Of me. Of no one else. This from me. For my good, for His glory.

And so it comes down to Love, and how can I say 'No'?

My gift for God.

Trust and Obey

Today has been a nice, quiet Sabbath. Hurricane Irene just slipped quietly by us last night and left us in peace and without power. Power outages allow for many hours of quiet contemplation!

The short summary of what I'm about to say is: I'm so self-absorbed! Thinking and talking about ME too much, as usual.

We'll be moving to a new home soon.... I mean eventually... I... think....

I'm expecting a baby in three short months and I haven't done any planning since my focus has been on moving ON. Where to, you ask? Oh, well, I don't know that exactly. Well... I have a rough idea. Okay, the truth is that anything could happen, really.

So the more I ponder upon the nothing that is almost about (surely soon!) to happen, the more agitated I get! Last night I could focus on nothing but my discontent. My spirit was in turmoil and I couldn't logic myself out of it. I went to bed discouraged and woke up disgruntled. (Sorry, Honey!)

Then came God's Holy Spirit and ministered to me quietly.

I read the blog of a dear sister in Christ who was sharing the struggles of her own heart, and I shared some of my own struggles and some of God's Word, which I hope encouraged her.

Shortly thereafter I was changing my toddler's diaper. As simple a task as that may seem, it was proving to be surprisingly difficult! First, I was balancing her on my right hip, then I had to bend down nearly to the floor to retrieve a clean cloth dipe. Being six months pregnant made this a trial, and I squatted instead to keep the blood in my head. Once down, then rising precariously and waddling to the bedroom to lay her on my bed and change her!

I thought: This is my task from the Lord for this moment. Care for the needs of my little one. Carry cheerfully (without sighing!) the little one in my womb and the little on on my hip. And... so on!

Psalm 31:10

"For my life is spent with grief, and my years with sighing: my strength faileth because of mine iniquity, and my bones are consumed."

The truth of the matter is that the tasks God calls me to go on each day. My geographic location matters not at all to accomplishing these tasks. Should I waste my moments with sighing?

Instead, I want my heart to be filled with gladness!

Proverbs 11:25

"The generous soul will be made rich, And he who waters will also be watered himself."

So I found myself content serving the Lord in the changing of a diaper and in seeking to encourage a friend. His Spirit reminded me that as I search for rest for my heart, I can find it only in Him.

Lord! Teach my heart that when it is full of sighing, when I cannot find rest, I have taken my eyes off of You. I have forgotten my purpose. I have let go of the Rock of my Salvation and have left the Spirit of Peace in the search for the fulfillment of my lusts. Lord, help me to be lost in You.

Matthew 10:39

"He who finds his life will lose it, and he who loses his life for My sake will find it."

1. TRUST AND OBEY
2. John H. Sammis 1887
3. 
   
4. When we walk with the Lord in the light of His Word,
   What a glory He sheds on our way!
   While we do His good will, He abides with us still,
   And with all who will trust and obey.
   • Refrain:
     Trust and obey, for there’s no other way
     To be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey.
5. Not a shadow can rise, not a cloud in the skies,
   But His smile quickly drives it away;
   Not a doubt or a fear, not a sigh or a tear,
   Can abide while we trust and obey.
6. Not a burden we bear, not a sorrow we share,
   But our toil He doth richly repay;
   Not a grief or a loss, not a frown or a cross,
   But is blessed if we trust and obey.
7. But we never can prove the delights of His love
   Until all on the altar we lay;
   For the favor He shows, for the joy He bestows,
   Are for them who will trust and obey.
8. Then in fellowship sweet we will sit at His feet,
   Or we’ll walk by His side in the way;
   What He says we will do, where He sends we will go;
   Never fear, only trust and obey.

Blessed Motherhood

It's been so long since I've written down my thoughts I'm not sure I know how anymore.

It is quiet time in the Woolley house. The peace of this hour of the day is bringing such content to my heart I felt I had to write it down.

My oldest, now six, (that is her picture at left) is napping away a nasty headache. My second is reading quietly on the love seat, thrilled that she can join the world of readers. I smile and nod as she shows me pictures of dinosaur bones and counts them; watch her as she turns the pages of her 'ABC' book and quietly murmurs the alphabet song to herself, trying to commit the letter forms to memory.

My third girlie sits contentedly in my lap, burbling her thoughts to a plastic cow. While I enjoy her closeness I reach down into a basket of warm laundry, fresh from the dryer. The rhythm of reach, fold, fold, and the soft thump of a child's sweater hitting the laundry basket keep us company. She rubs her eyes and lays her head against my chest.

The sweet and quiet joys of motherhood at home!

With the baby down for her second nap of the day, I resume the familiar rhythm of folding the laundry. Bored with her picture books, my little one asks to help. Together we create piles of blue, gold, and often pink clothing, the stripes creating a satisfying if haphazard order to the mountain of cotton and fleece. She asks me if I think Daddy will buy us a pink house someday? Not very likely, I tell her, but you can ask him. She says she will, and then, finished with folding, asks for crayons and leaves me alone to write.

The day is chilly but the sun is out and I hope we'll be able to walk this afternoon. I'm longing for some spring air, but I don't know if the eldest's headache will keep us from enjoying any exercise today.

A quiet joy presses in, and I know the sweet pain of a mother who knows her children are growing and there is nothing she can do to stop it. If I could only freeze this perfect moment!

The artist is done with her work, she brings it to me for approval and critique. Tell me about it, I say. It's a pink house, she says, and it's full of the children who live in it. I notice there are three stories, just like our town home, and everyone in the picture is a girl. I smile and tell her I like it very much.

Three girls. Three daughters. Such beauty and laughter in our home! I wonder if the children I lost were girls too. I wonder if I have sons or daughters waiting in glory. I miss them. Sometimes I count heads in the kitchen and wonder if the baby is upstairs crying. But all the babies are already present. I instinctively look for the souls that have passed on. Wee ones I was never able to hold. A mother's heart does not forget.

My heart floods with gratefulness. I lift a thankful heart to the Lord for the children he has given. I pray for His blessing on the life that I am now carrying. I ask Him for health and life and happiness. This is my sixth pregnancy. I wonder if this will be the son we have prayed for...?

I could never deal with the grief of loss alone, and that is why I never keep these things a secret. I am so thrilled to be carrying this child, and so terrified that I will not be allowed to keep it, that each day is a gift. Who can know what tomorrow brings? But today, I will rejoice.

I am humbled and honored that God gives us another child.

Lord, you are beautiful, and Your creation is beautiful, and I am filled with joy in the work you are doing within me. All praise and glory are your due. May your name be magnified in all the earth, Amen.

Cookbook Rows

They are all lined up on a shelf. Almost. It isn't quite big enough - the shelf - and so they overflow haphazardly. My current favorite is resting in my little kitchen, and Fanny Farmer (the 1896 version) lays sideways atop the other tomes.

Rows of colorful Cookbooks.

I've browsed through most of them. There are a few I have yet to read. My Betty Crocker is falling apart in the spots I flip to week after week: Crepes. Chicken Pot Pie.

My cookbooks say a lot about me. I have six volumes on bread baking. Why do I need so many? Maybe I should throw some out, do you think? Most days when I need a recipe I pull it off of Recipezaar or my cookbook software. But I love my cookbooks.... and I realize, as I sit here and stare at them, that there aren't many I'd be willing to let go.

Not because I need the recipes. Most of my old favorites have been converted to digital format now. No, because they are my friends, they were given to me by friends, written by friends!

They are worth the shelf space they occupy. They remind me of who I am and where I came from. Memories of meals I cooked and shared with loved ones are wrapped up in the spines of my cookbooks. A glance at their titles as I pass by puts a smile on my face. Open one and let it's pages tell me a story.

I remember.

I cooked.

I loved.

Precious memories, I can touch them when I hold a cookbook in my hand.

Rows of Cookbooks.

Resuming

Inspired by my dear friend, The Hollywood Wife, we will be resuming blogging in the near future.

Check her out! www.thehollywoodwife.blogspot.com

Here Comes A Sunday

Here it comes; the most stressful day of the week. Sunday. The day I have to wake up early, guns blazing, and make sure everything happens on time. This is the day the children must look beautiful and behave perfectly. It is the day of the family breakfast, the Church Pot-luck (followed by a business meeting which will last, if we're lucky, an hour or so..) and of exhausted children who have had to miss naptime.

Today there is no room for lost socks and diaper explosions. Please, children, use your spoons and DO NOT TOUCH YOUR HAIR!!! Too late. Oatmeal, stuck like cement to their unkempt mopheads, in the crevices of their ears, and between their toes. (she's one, she'll learn to use her fingers eventually, right?!)

Everyone must exit the door promptly, in an orderly fashion, neatly dressed and clean, oatmeal remnants removed from the munchkins but unfortunately clinging to my nice sweater. Why do I try to look cute? I just ruin all my clothes anyway!

Of course, we aren't prompt. We're late. Again. That's okay! Everyone else at church will be late too. We nearly never begin on time. Where do I put this casserole? Will it stay hot? LITTER BUG! Get! A! Tissue! If you have to pick your nose why do it today... in public? I hate it when we're late. Our favorite pew could be taken, (the back one!) and there isn't a warm place to keep this casserole, which is probably going to be cold by the time we get around to eating.

Oatmeal and buggers on my front. Kids won't sit still. Didn't hear a word of the sermon. Bug had to go potty, Bear needed a diaper change (not to mention a nap). I am determined to teach them to sit still. They did much better last week. Maybe it won't be so bad....

Isn't Sunday supposed to be the day of Rest?

Why do we plan so much today of all days?

Ooo. a spare afternoon, let me do.... follows a list of backed up to-do items...

Remember the Sabbath Day, and keep it Holy. (Exodus 20:8)

Anyone know what this means exactly? I'm not feeling Holy Sunday mornings. The stress of the day makes me angry and frustrated, and surely not in the mood for worship. Poor planning, I'm sure. I know my heart is focused on the wrong thing, but is there any way to cut back on all these activities on the Holy Day of Sabbath? Can I do all these things and keep it Holy?

Keep the Sabbath Day Holy, Don't pursue your own interests on that day, but enjoy the Sabbath and speak of it with delight as the Lord's Holy day. Honor the Lord in everything you do, and don't follow your own desires or talk idly. If you do this, the Lord will be your delight. I will give you great honor and give you your full share of the inheritance I promised to Jacob, your ancestor. I, the Lord, have spoken!" Isaiah 58:14(NLT)

I could use a little more delight. Delight myself in the Lord. That sounds great. I understand we are not supposed to forsake the gathering of ourselves together, but how does this jive with keeping the Sabbath Holy? Why do I find it so stressful?

A reading of Acts will show us that the people would gather together in the temple on the Sabbath and Paul would go in to preach to them. So we have a long history of gathering on the Sabbath. That's not the part that needs to go.

I guess it's my attitude. I need to focus on the Lord. I need to plan ahead and get all the little things done prior to the big (holy!) day so I'm not concerned with them. I must DELIGHT myself in the Lord on the Sabbath day. (no I won't say SUNDAY, and no, I don't worship on Saturday. but i would if I could...)

Sunday morning: THINK GOD.

THINK DELIGHT.

Forget about the oatmeal, the buggers, the neatly pressed clothing, (or blue jeans, we're cool here.) Focus. on. Delighting myself in the Lord.

Boy I like that idea. It sounds nice. Nice like a cold drink on a hot day.

I think I'll go make a breakfast casserole I can just slide into the oven sunday mornings... I think I'll refuse to worry about all the little things that didn't get done. I wont' do them, in fact. If I didn't make the time to do it yesterday, God's HOLY day of rest is not going to stand in.

I am going to REVEL in my day off.

GOD IS GLORIOUS.

He's given me this day to spend JUST focused on Him. How awesome is that? If I do nothing but Delight myself in the Lord, I have pleased Him. Who cares about dirty socks? That was a weekday concern, the Sabbath day is About JESUS.

You know what I think? I think because I never rest on Sunday, I'm tired all week. Because I'm tired all week, I'm draggin'. I grab a minute of rest wherever I can. By the time Sunday rolls around again I'm feelin' okay, but I spend the day frantically trying to make 'it' right, because I feel lazy and I wonder if I could have done a better job.

But God's day isn't the day for that, is it?

Right, let's see... Hmm.. I squander my time and use it unwisely... and then when the Sabbath rolls around I take GOD's time and I commandeer it for my own interests so I feel better about me.

I'm thinking this has to change. I'm thinking the Sabbath should be the day I get to dive into that bible study I never have time for, the one I 'wish i had time for'. Listen to me, God Totally provided the time for that! I just don't use it.

It's kind of like your boss providing you with 'sick days' at work, but you never take them because you have an overdeveloped sense of importance, even with a temp of 105.

I think I have an overdeveloped sense of pride in the appearance of the family Sunday mornings. Or the house. Or myself. See, this reflects poorly on my abilities as a wife and a mom. Well. I think God can help me out with improving those skills, but HIS day is not the day to fake it so I feel good about me. So we look the part. So it all seems up to snuff on the surface.

So.

Tomorrow I am going to practice Delight in the presence of a wonderful Lord.

Care to join me?