I met you that Christmas when he and I were new
And heart hungered only for you.
When sun slipped under, eye would not go too
And heart watched restlessly for you.

And when you tapped him on the shoulder
He lost all sense of breath;
The rhythm of it lost, in wonder.

Then the rain began to fall.

And you saved it in a bottle,
And there was no time…
As heart gazed,
And imprinted

Your. exquisite. presence.

Last night I went to bed expectantly, only to be awakened at midnight by a husband who was traumatized with leaking pipes and storage stuffing.

“I want that storage area cleaned up tomorrow.” His words echoed, perhaps a catalyst for the nightmares which assailed during the wee hours. The layers of decorations, crafts, unsorted videos, and various odds and ends was a recipe for frustration, and though inwardly daunted at this task, I clung to our family motto with tenacity.

Keep. Moving. Forward.

In the midst of school, chores, cleaning and meals, I managed to carve out nearly two hours to sort, stack, stash and chuck all the stuff that hadn’t been dealt with at the proper time. And I’m happy to report a navigable, and workable area. Yet how unnecessary has been all of this frustration? All of this stuff, just stuffed into our storage area, with mild thoughts of finding time to “deal” with it later…until one day it becomes a major stumbling block in a time of trouble. Hmmm.

I’m one of those people who will tell you I’m fine when sometimes I’m not, because I think, I’ve got it sorted, when really, it’s been stuffed away. But lately I’ve realized that an emotional release is really necessary. In fact, if it builds up for a long time, it can become quite, well, “stinky”. Emotions were not meant to be encased and set on the counter to ferment like my sourdough or kefir. Especially negative emotions.

“Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice.” Ephesians 4:31

Surely these will rot the fastest, if left to fester, like a grudge to be nursed. The word nurse means to care for in a way as to provide growth and development. How perspective illuminates! To coddle such a creature as this? Yet the human heart so often chooses the bitter way, as negative emotions are shoved to the back, where they are tasted best. With my children, I like to pretend the bad emotions are something malleable, and squash them into a ball which we then “put away” from us. What freedom!

But, hey, what about the positive emotions? Joy, love, and so on. Shout it out, right? How many times have I lacked the velocity to express loving and encouraging thoughts to others? Somehow the spark of His glory that comes with these thoughts is lost when they are saved for later. They don’t fester, they fizzle. I remember many times sitting in church, thinking, wow, that was an amazing teaching. I should really go and tell this brother how he exhorted my heart. And the rarity of such a thing has suddenly struck me! Surely such a light will be stifled under the bowl of procrastination.

The Psalmist seems to always have an exhortation containing the word “shout”. Let them shout for joy…shout unto God with the voice of triumph….let thy saints shout for joy. And when was the last time I shouted? Probably when practicing Taekwondo with the children this morning. Ki-hap! So maybe I’ll try something new tomorrow….when we kneel in our little circle, I will stop shushing everyone, and instead encourage shouting! (In praise and thanksgiving of course )

Much better to shout than to stuff. Ah, the release! Many times it is tempting to bring the “stuff” to bear on husband, coming home with his own pressures still lingering. Yet we all know that’s not a good idea! So instead, I’ve got to re-roll an old groove. You know the one….where we take those little odds and ends straight to His transporter, and exchange them for peace, before they fall on some unsuspecting innocent!

I tried to write a beautiful poem, but this rap is all that came out [wry grin]…I guess there is always next week .

Stuff it in stuff it down stuff it all around,
And one day stuffing topples you to the ground.
When expected least,
This rotten beast,
Locks eyes with the skies
Of a hovering yeast.

Take it up, take it over, take it upon,
This wrap of His, He would have us to don,
Having been made meet,
We sit at his feet,
No pain, no strain,
The rest is O So Sweet!

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. Matthew 11:28-30

We drove down Lincoln Drive on the way to Taekwondo. What met our eyes brought disappointment to me, and excitement to the kids. Lighted wreaths and candles illuminated the drab drive, while darkening my brows.

Was Thanksgiving to be ignored once again? Were we to travel at light speed from fabulous fall to Christmas with nary a turkey to gobble in between?

My daughter rescued me when she pointed out the blown-up turkey in a yard up ahead. He was large, round, colorful, and cartoonish, but O, how my eyes lingered there! As his brown body smiled and swayed in chubby contentment, I was infected, and my peevish concerns evaporated. At least for that moment.

On Monday I made the decision. Store-bought stuffing was not an option for me this year. (Nourishing decisions have become easier to make over the years.) So I began the familiar process of making bread, with one inconvenient addition: I mixed 15 cups of the flour into five cups of warmed buttermilk, and left it to soak for twelve hours. Yesterday morning, the final three cups of flour were combined with the yeast, honey, water, oil & salt and then carefully mixed in with the soaking dough. Really, it was just a matter of retraining; the soaking of the flour is only slightly more time-consuming than my prior routine.

But why? Why go to all the trouble of soaking the flour? Well, according to my research, there is something called phytic acid which is found in the hulls of nuts, seeds, and grains. Phytic acid is the principle form of storage for phosphorous. There are two problems with phytic acid. The first is that important minerals, like calcium and magnesium, adhere to phytic acid, and when they do so, they become insoluble and unable to be absorbed in the intestines. The second problem is that phytic acid is itself unable to be absorbed due to our lack of an enzyme called phytase.

This is where the soak comes in. When nuts, seeds and grains are soaked, the phytic acid is broken down, and the minerals are once more bioavailable. When they are soaked in an acidic medium, such as buttermilk, kefir or yogurt, the breakdown is much more effective. To rephrase: soaking removes the binding power of phytic acid (aka the anti-nutrient), which would suck away life-giving minerals necessary for all body-functions.

My need hit me then, square between the eyes. I needed a good soak. And certainly not in buttermilk. Songs began to flit through my mind…

“It’s beginning to ra-ai-ain, hear the voice of the Father…” and

“Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, like the fra-grance after the ra-ai-ain…”.

Just as the minerals needed for all body functions were bound in the phytic acid, the peace, needed to guard my mind in Christ Jesus, was bound in the peevish acid of unthankfulness. And surely there is only one solution.

Suddenly Elise’s Heavy Laden tree took on new meaning for me. There is a poem stirring here….the applause is almost deafening!

But first, the soak.

I had an epiphany recently. As we were sitting together on Sunday night, with our new church small group. We shared a meal together. We praised the Lord in song. We partook of the Word, and of the Lord’s supper. But mostly, at least for me, it was about being together, in the Body of Christ. Lingering in His presence, as we sought the fellowship of the beloved.

As I came reluctantly away from the meeting, a scripture whispered in my ear. “Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as the manner of some is…” (Hebrews 10:25a). I found myself wondering if this is what the Lord was referring to. This time of fellowship in a smaller, more intimate group, perhaps? As opposed to the modern church service? It is easy in many churches to slip in and out again without truly connecting with the Body of Christ. Surely this kind of disjointed “body” cannot function correctly. His blood must flow freely through His body and each member be cleansed continually by the flow. His muscles must be used in a coordinated fashion in order for Him to be effectively ministering to the world around Him. His members must be near Him to become like Him, for surely we become like those we are with, as “we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.” (2 Cor. 3:18).

I think many Christians fall into the trap of believing that drawing near to the Lord is experienced alone. And certainly it is that, when we are communing with Him in our prayer closet, and seeking his guidance throughout the day. But it is so much more! We are exhorted to continue meeting together, to encourage one another, to confess our sins one to another, to a unity of the faith, to pray for one another, to sharpen one another, to love one another and serve one another. All of us together, striving toward the same goal. To be more like Jesus, from glory… to glory!

And what about being with others who may not have it all “together”? I remember thinking on multiple occasions that I really wanted to spend some one-on-one time with a Godly family. A family who had gotten some things that I was struggling with. But whenever I encountered such a family, I was always paralyzed by fear. Fear that they wouldn’t want to be with my family because we were certainly not “together” in so many ways.

And then I went through my “together” stage. When I thought things were going pretty well. The kids were pretty well behaved and, well, maybe we should just hang around others who were “good” also. After all, we wouldn’t want any negative influence to rub off on us. Perhaps you hear the sarcasm in my voice.

Being with Jesus means being with people. Especially people who don’t have it all “together”. And when you are seeking after the heart of Jesus, pressing in to be near to him, that means you are, like Him, surrounded often by people (self included) who miss the mark. It’s not about us. It’s about Him.

I am certain that I would not be experiencing this had we not been searching for a new church. A wise preacher once said “go where people are getting saved”. Well, our fourth church out, we came to an out-of-the-way, hard-to-find church to see John Clayton, who happened to be speaking at this church. We had just finished a 17-week series called “Does God Exist” by John Clayton in our home school, and we found a card on the bulletin board at Panera which advertised the very same series. We went out of curiosity, to see what kind of church would promote his teaching, which is not mainstream in regard to science and Christianity. It turned out that John Clayton himself was there and we met him in person! It was very exciting. We decided to visit the church also, hear the preaching and I went to the ladies Bible study. Everything lined up, and we have never been to a more “alive” church. There are tons of young people serving God, several ministries to disadvantaged families and people really want to know each other and hang out and fellowship. It is very precious to be a part of.

So, anyway, I am now eagerly pressing in to the Body of Christ. I am hungry for fellowship and looking forward to each occasion where I can be with these people. I feel like a huge missing element in my life has been filled in, and it is glorious! Thank You Lord!

My heart was stolen by Mr. Self-Help. He was strong, and it seemed he could fix anything. Surely, my heart reasoned, this was the One for me. And my heart loved him, for a time. We read lots of books together. And he seemed to have all of the answers. That is, until my heart realized that he was just a box of bandaids, and he burned up in the fire. When the smoke had cleared away, I stood at the edge, overlooking the glory beyond, out of my reach. Then my heart cried for him, shook off the crusty bandaids, and moved on.

When Mr. Self-Denial showed up on my doorstep, I was intrigued. He was wiry and he moved slowly, but he seemed to have a lot of wisdom. I followed him, for a time. My heart thought, surely this is the path. If I give up food and pleasure, it will strengthen this heart of mine and I will see glory. Surely. But my heart could not do it, for it was surrounded by a weak and fleshly body. One day Mr. Self-Denial left me in the dust. When it had cleared away, I once again stood at the edge, overlooking the glory beyond, out of my reach. I didn’t even cry for him.

I just stumbled over Mr. Penitent. He was kneeling in the tall grass and he looked up, startled as I fell over him. He had the saddest eyes; he seemed to be perpetually on the verge of tears. I liked that – a guy who could cry. I fell hard for him. We were together for ages it seemed. And he saw everything. My heart was an open book. Together, we poured it all out, but it seemed I would never be like him, and eventually I tired of those eyes. I realized that my heart would never be penitent enough. I would never be good enough for him, and when he saw that I despised him, he left me. I was so relieved, that I cried.
But I was still left with a wounded heart, surrounded by a weak and fleshly body. And I wandered, seeking a path to the glory which landed on my face but refused to permeate my heart.

At first I almost missed the knock, it was so soft. And the voice of Glory. Hope flooded my heart, and I threw open the door excitedly. He stood there with his arms wide open, pulsing with passion and life and love emanating from the source. I couldn’t look upon Him, for the guilt which flooded my soul took the starch from my legs and I crumbled to the floor, sobbing. Slowly, I rose to look at Him again. He wanted me, I could tell. It was entirely unfathomable. How could this be? There was nothing that I could offer him; nothing that I could take to Him. How could I put my weak body in contact with His glory? It couldn’t happen. I just couldn’t see how it could happen! My heart throbbed for him, but my body trembled in weakness and fear. I turned away. When I looked up, He was gone.

I sat there in my house for days, feeling that nothing would ever be the same. Had I blown it? Because of my pride? But Lord, no good thing dwelleth in me… Woe is me! I am a woman of unclean lips! I am a woman with weak flesh….

Yet my heart desires You above all.

I made up my mind that if He returned, I would not draw back. And my heart mounted the wings of an eagle, waiting tirelessly for His presence.

This time His knock was unmistakable. It seemed that I had the ears to hear its sweet reverberations. I flew to the door and flung it wide open. Panting still with amazement, I beheld His Glory for only a moment before being enveloped in an embrace of perfection. His Perfect Body covered my weak body, and I melted into His death. I could sense my own death, and there was no longer any barrier. The blood of Christ flowed through my heart, cleansing and renewing. I knew that my weak and sinful flesh was disappearing in the waves of His white robe. I knew that His blood beat in my new heart. I knew that the dividing wall of hostility was …… gone.

O Glory! Glory.

“21And you, that were sometime alienated and enemies in your mind by wicked works, yet now hath he reconciled 22In the body of his flesh through death, to present you holy and unblameable and unreproveable in his sight: 23If ye continue in the faith grounded and settled, and be not moved away from the hope of the gospel, which ye have heard, and which was preached to every creature which is under heaven;…” Col. 1:21-23a

“6For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” 2 Cor. 4:6

I was so confused. There were many things that needed doing and fuzz-brain was having difficulty getting her butt in gear. My dear husband helped me. He said “Danielle, I want you to figure out what the most important thing is, and do it.” I was also given direction in how I was to do it. Sweetly. This may give you a clue as to my true need. And I’ll tell you that I really thought hard about what I needed to do next.

I finally sorted it out. I needed to reconcile our checkbook. This was certainly the most important thing. After all, how would I know if there was enough money in there to buy milk this week (fresh, raw goat’s milk – mmmmm!) if I didn’t update things? So I trudged over to my computer with a *smile* on my face and ignored my true need.

It’s easy to center ourselves on our perceived needs. As a parent, we realize that we aren’t as consistent as we need to be, so we center ourselves on being consistent. As a wife, we realize that we aren’t being loving enough so we focus on being a more loving wife. Maybe we see that we need to be gentler to those around us, and we try our best to be sweet. On the practical side, we see that the dishes need to be done, so we do the dishes. Or we see that the house needs to be painted, so we paint the house. (Or we reconcile the checkbook, like mu-wah.)  So much of our lives are centered around the “tyranny of the urgent”. And, like a bunjee cord, we snap back to the object of our true heart focus when we aren’t paying attention.

But there is only one thing that is needful. Centering ourselves on the Lord Jesus Christ. is. for the believer. essential. In such a way that we are breathing Him. Eating Him. Drinking Him. We are to fix our eyes upon Him, our need upon Him, our hope upon Him. And when we do, it all clears up. Sweetness isn’t much of an option, because the banquet of Jesus will bring the smile of a chesire cat to our faces. It used to seem like a miracle to me when this happened. And I guess it really is a miracle. That the Christian identifies with Christ in such a way that he is truly dead, as the scriptures say, his life hidden with Christ in God. This death is the only thing that makes it possible for us not to be ruled by our flesh. Centering ourselves on the Lord Jesus Christ means reckoning ourselves to be “dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord.” (Romans 6:11).

Yet there is more to centering on Jesus Christ. That affection, ripped away from our fleshly appetites, must. be. put. on. Christ. *Period* And Him alone. And we do this by singing his praise and thanksgiving to Him “all the day long”. By putting on praise music and remembering to thank Him often for little and big things. Even when we don’t *feel* like it. For our affections, like a bunjee cord, will snap back ravenously to whatever our flesh was previously fastened to, if we don’t firmly fix our eyes (& affections) on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.

“Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider him that endured such contradiction of sinners against himself, lest ye be wearied and faint in your minds.
Ye have not yet resisted unto blood, striving against sin.” (Hebrews 12:1-4)

Last night I stayed up until 3am. And I remembered why I so seldom read fiction books anymore. If I pick one up, it’s usually because it’s really good, and then I can’t put it down. This one was a Ted Dekker novel entitled “Heaven’s Wager”.

It was the story of a man who lost everything in a situation similar to Job in the Bible. In the story, we are reminded of Satan coming before God to insist that he could make a righteous man curse God. A riveting story is woven together of a new challenge. Satan had come before God again and insisted that he could keep an unrighteous man from responding to God’s love (this is actually not revealed until the end). And the author proceeds to write a compelling story of a man who loses everything, just like Job, successfully commits the crime of the century, and then in the end reaches out to receive God’s love and his soul is saved. My favorite part is the faith of his mother-in-law, who intercedes for him constantly and obeys God’s sometimes unusual requests (to move in with him; to walk 8 hours a day on crippled legs and pray for him).

I am challenged by the story to become a better listener. I want to be listening when the Lord says “go and hug that child” or when He says “get in the car and take the kids to the park”. Or when He says “no”, or “yes!” or “humble yourself and apologize”. It is not enough to be in the Word, going to church and teaching the children. I have to be focused on the Lord; to be leaning into His strength and allowing my burdens to seep away in the mountain of might which is El Elyon, the Lord most high.

“And thine ears shall hear a word behind thee, saying, This is the way, walk ye in it, when ye turn to the right hand, and when ye turn to the left.” -Isaiah 30:21

Yesterday my 2 year-old son Joshua pushed my 5 year-old daughter Deborah off of the big green chair. How this happened is beyond me , but apparently her head thunked pretty hard on the floor, and she began to cry quite vehemently, while holding her injured head. At the time, I was tending another child and only vaguely aware of what was happening, but it captured my full attention when Joshua became immediately contrite and sought me out.

(His words seem to be the subject of a lot of blog entries lately . Perhaps I should rename my blog to reflect this .)

Anyway, Joshua was quite beside himself with grief, and he sobbed to me, “Mama, you have to fix Debbie!”

When I understood him, it became difficult for me to keep a straight face, but I tried very hard as I gathered my big girl in to my arms and felt her head for a goose egg. I assured Josh that Deborah was going to be just fine; that she didn’t even have a goose egg, and he finally began to quiet down.

As I reflected on this, it became apparent that our children really believe that parents can make it all better. Parents fix the bleeding owie, quell the fear, soothe the fever and protect children from harm (mostly).

But some day our kids will be in a situation where mom or dad will not be able to “fix” things. And that is why it is so paramount that we direct them consistently to the Lord Jesus Christ. Our kids will one day be separated from our love, but praise be to the Almighty God, who wrought his great power in the all-sufficient work of Jesus Christ, that nothing in all of creation will be able to separate us from the love of Christ.

“For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:38-39

Later on the same day, Joshua came to Deborah and said to her, smiling “did Mama fix you Debbie?”

What a weekend! Saturday we finally got the garden all cleared out and plowed under. Our veranda is lined with tomatoes (green and red) and we pulled out a few forgotten carrots and lonely little watermelons. It looks like a lot considering that we haven’t gotten all that much from our garden this year (which is ok with me, for my goal was small –just get the thing planted!). Saturday night it was so nice to be exhausted from outdoor work .

Sunday we went to church and I was so proud of the children, who sang Colossians 1:15-23 perfectly and sat in church quietly coloring during the sermon. Afterwards we were going to go out to eat as a reward for David, who has mastered tying his shoes (we are so proud of you David!). However, they were having a church cookout at the park and he decided he wanted to go to that instead to celebrate. They had the most delicious brats and desserts and we were all stuffed with food and fellowship by the time we headed home.

Tonight I have been pondering the grace of God afresh. Sometimes as parents we can become convinced that our children depend on us alone. We can become proud of the things we have done well, or we can despair and think, “I’ve ruined my child! How will I ever fix him?” I am mostly talking about our own flaws that are passed down to our kids despite our efforts to the contrary, and sometimes about mistakes that have been made (consistently, to be sure!). But my despair evaporates when I consider my God and the marvelous grace which he bestows upon ME! To quote an earlier blog entry:

“The grace of God is what can take a soul raised in the muck of this world and transform it from the inside-out. It can take a child raised without any moral guidance or training, living in a chaotic, sin-torn environment, loving the world and everything in it, into a holy child of God – and a devoted parent. It travels through the vehicle of our faith in God and His word. It was poured out in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ and it seeps out of His own in the form of thankfulness and righteous living.”

The reason we are able to appreciate the grace of God so fully is because we are such flawed creatures. When our flaws begin showing up in our kids, it’s almost enough to make a God-fearing parent want to throw in the towel. It really hurts! But I submit to you this thought: Our children are in the hands of Almighty God, and our God, who is mighty to save, is more than big enough to use our flaws and mistakes for His glory. Halleiluia!

Lately I have been doing some soul searching. My thoughts have centered on my faith and how uncentered I was for so long. When I came to believe Jesus Christ 15 years ago, it was a joyful reality, like being born. And my life changed outwardly. I became a church goer. I became a Bible-study attender. I became a “prayer”. Don’t get me wrong, I believe that I was really saved; But in reality, deep deep down I knew that I was still me. I was still ruled by the desire to eat cookies for comfort; prone to depression; critical; enthusiastic about starting but not about finishing; unable to rise up to the high standards which I had set for myself; wanting to just throw aside the body that seemed to weigh me down. And even in the midst of “Christianity”, I began to search for that wonderful truth that would set me free. I searched in prayer groups. I searched in seminars. I read books. I prayed and fasted. I memorized large passages of scripture. But I continued to be in bondage to one degree or another.

It wasn’t until I returned to a simple faith in Jesus Christ two years ago, that I realized He alone was the road to freedom. The path that He traveled was meant for me also. When He died, I died. When He was raised from the dead, I was too. This was different from the ticket-gospel I had embraced at salvation. This put more stock in the pure gospel of Jesus Christ, not only for my salvation, but for my sanctification. And it opened my eyes to the fact that there are a lot of the world’s “self-help” ideas within the church, cleverly disguised with spiritual jargon. Since that point, Jesus Christ has become my lifeline, my only hope. I think before I had hope that some action that I could take would lead to deliverance and a miraculous change in my behavior. Like I could pray myself , or fast myself, or memorize myself into freedom. I am so thankful that I don’t believe that anymore. There is nothing that I can do to be free from the sin that so easily entangles, not only because I am incapable of crossing the chasm, but because God has already opened the door of freedom. He will not make another way. The ONLY WAY to be legitimately free is to walk according to what God says is true, believing God. And to trust in that alone. I have heard it described like this: a precious, valuable gift is given in love, and when the receiver attemps to offer a paltry sum, it is insulting to the giver! “Just receive, my child!” I can hear God saying. We feel like we have to put up some kind of performance in order to be worthy to be in God”s presence. The truth is, we will never be worthy to be in his presence. Period. Christ is the only worthy one. It is only when we believe that we are really part of Jesus Christ, that the miracle of true fellowship with God exists. Halleiluia! God, You are so perfect.

Right now, I am in a state which seems degenerative. I’ve been noticing some character flaws that just won’t seem to go away. I’ve been distracted by cookies and having some very stressed out Mommy moments. In general feeling like a failure. But I will never again wonder, “how can I be free of this mess I seem to have made of my life?” I know that there is only one answer, despite my itching ears. Jesus Christ. And I will hold onto him with all of my might, because without Him, what’s the point, really?

“Buried with him by baptism, wherein also ye are risen with Him through the faith of the operation of God, who hath raised Him from the dead.” Col. 2:12

“And be found in Him, not having mine own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith. That I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made conformable unto his death; 11If by any means I might attain unto the resurrection of the dead. 12Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect: but I follow after, if that I may apprehend that for which also I am apprehended of Christ Jesus. 13Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, 14I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” Phil. 3:9-14