On Being a "Yes" Sister

It's later than I like to start my math for the day. I spread out my books, notebook, calculators (yes, I use two), and note cards. Picking up my pencil, I write the lesson number and begin to copy the first problem to work out. And at that very moment, she comes through the door.

She's carrying a large book and as she walks toward me, her dimples show even though she's not smiling. "Lindsey, will you read this to me??" As I glance up into her big blue eyes, thoughts pour through my mind. That book?? She couldn't have picked a shorter one? You never even liked that one as a kid. And girl, you have so.much.math to do. Just tell her no. 

And I've told her no. Time and time again my voice has let those two letters free. No. No smoothies for breakfast. No book. No movie. No going outside. It got to the point where she and her twin sister would hardly come to me anymore for anything- and never to play with them. Let me tell you, that one hurt when I realized it was true. I was losing my little sisters.

They're in an odd stage right now and its one that is so easy to harp on. STOP it. Act like a 5 year old. Don't be silly. Open your eyes. (Seriously, what is it with half closing or completely closing your eyes when you're acting silly?) Don't act like a baby. Normal voices. 

It was a few weeks before Christmas when I pulled out several of my favorite old Christmas books and asked them if they wanted to read with me. Of course, they did, so we read about the candy cane and an apple tree and many others. 30 minutes later, they exclaimed "Thank you for reading to us!" as they climbed the stairs to bed.

Since then, I've tried. I played Candy Land, read books, baked cookies and muffins, and made smoothies every Friday morning (Except this Friday, because our blender burnt out). I've seized a few moments that I wouldn't have before... and I've also missed out on many that could have been wonderful memories.

I've written about this many times before, how we should treasure our time with those around us because they can be gone so quickly and because we are growing up. I haven't perfected it though... I'm nowhere near close. It can be discouraging to look back and see the times I failed and how sparse the times I haven't look in comparison. Let me tell you, I'm still in the thick of this one. I don't really see any light. But I'm wondering how different life would look- theirs, but especially mine- if I switched out even half of those nos with yes.

Yes. I'll make time for you.

Yes. You are important to me.

Yes.

It's not to say that no isn't okay. There are definite moments when a no is totally fine or even necessary. But yes, yes could work wonders on your relationship and your spirit. I've found that yes is freeing, life-giving. Yes allows you to step back from your own frazzled life and take a moment to seep it all in. Yes is a break, and more diligence and perspective when you come back to work.

Jesus said yes. I'm sure there were times when He wanted to go home or get away from the crowds or not answer one more question. But He did. He came to earth and served the people with love, giving more and more of Himself even when His human flesh grew weary. The story of His loving on and instructing the crowd of people who followed Him across the lake gets me every time. I know what it's like to want to be alone and withdraw from the crowds, yet He doesn't get annoyed or turn them away. I want to be like Him, to be able to surrender my plans without a complaint to serve others in love.

So I set down the notebook, smile at her, and open my arms. Yes. She climbs onto my lap and whispers, "I like this book." I whisper back, "I like YOU."

She's way more important than finishing three math lessons today anyway.

InstaThoughts: the Bible Study That Wasn't

Friday night, I was supposed to attend a new-to-me Bible study. God opened a lot of doors in order to let me go, and as I've been craving good Biblical fellowship, I was super excited to see what He was going to teach me. I knew a few of the attendees and knew that several others were great Christian people. It seemed perfect. 

Then I woke up Friday morning with a headache. It got worse as the day went along, but I was convinced that Bible study would be worth it, even with a headache. I was over halfway there when I realized I couldn't go. I ended up at home, nursing a throbbing headache and the chills and nausea that come along with that. It was disappointed to miss what I was so sure would be a great night, and the chance to make new friends, but God reminded me He has a plan for all things in my life and that I don't need a Bible study to be close to Him. He is always enough. 

I took that selfie in the mirror before bed. I was supposed to be in a new house, talking among people I had never met. I took this picture not to document my disappointment (or to show that I obviously don't care how my hair looks when I'm sick), but rather to remind myself how a night can be different and still be beautiful. I got to witness my siblings playing "mission trip to Kenya" and spend some time learning from Jesus. I don't know why it wasn't in His plans for me to go Friday night, but I do know that He is always good. 

{This is the beginning of a new series which will use pictures and thoughts from my Instagram feed and flesh them out a bit. They won't be as long as a normal post, but I hope they will encourage you just the same.}

On Weddings, Babies, and Never-Ending Highschool

I have a friend who is married with a 8 month old baby boy. I ran into their little family on my way into Starbucks the other day and it was so fun to hug them and watch them click J's carseat into the car and drive away. That pang stuck my heart though... you know the one. Jesus... I want that to be me so badly. Can't I be grown up now?

Another dear, dear friend was married in May and is due with her sweet baby girl in March. We meet at Biggby or Panera and I absolutely love to hear her talk about how she loves being married and how she can't wait to hold her daughter. I love it. But there are also moments of I.just.can't.wait.until.this.is.me.

I have a friend who is planning her wedding, dropping out of college to save money for marriage. I have a friend who is head over heels in love with her man and honestly, we're all just waiting for her relationship status on FB to change and pictures of a diamond to appear. A good number of my friends are older than me by several years, and so these days, lots of life-changing things are happening to them.

It's easy for me to feel left behind sometimes. They're all out there, with their exciting lives and men and babies, and here I am. Still in high school. Still plugging away at the school books and enduring the drama (no pun intended) of HPA. It's exhausting and monotonous at times. It's easy to feel like the end of the school year- or even Christmas break- will never come, much less graduation. And graduation isn't even the magic key to marriage and babies and exciting life.

What would happen if we all just took a moment to think about this?? How as little girls we longed for this time in our lives? How so many others don't make it to 16, to 20, to 35? How these moments, these days, will never come again?? People, this stage in your life will finish, this page will turn, and we won't be able to go back.

I don't want to pine these last years of high school away by wanting a husband and a family. I remember thinking as a little girl that 16 would be the absolutely perfect age and it seemed so far away. But I'm living those perfect days right now! and they are good. I have a relationship with the King of the world, a wonderful family, amazing friends. I love homeschooling, HPA, quirky moments with those I love and freedom with my days. Why is it so hard to be content with all those blessings?!?

It all goes back to that one truth: Satan doesn't like God to be glorified. He will fight nail, teeth, and bone to keep praise from going back to our Savior. And you know something?

Discontent people rarely worship God meaningfully.

When I remember that God has given me this school, job, year, life to do for Him and His glory, and when I live like I believe it, I do my school in a way that worships the Lord. When I remember that He has given me these last few years to have a huge impact on my siblings' lives, I work hard to invest in our relationships. When I remember that my high school friends will be busy with college and life in two very short years, we gather together to study the Bible and worship and pray and make memories together. When I remember that God has given me life, I live it to His glory.

Satan hates this.

Dreams aren't bad. Marriage is incredible. Babies are a massive blessing. What is wrong is when we allow Satan to distract us from our everyday work with whisperings and what-ifs. God knows the desires of our hearts! He loves to give good gifts to His children. But we have to trust that His plans for us are for the very best and that He never, ever makes mistakes. So many times I have prayed for something desperately and later realized how good it was that I didn't receive that gift. Other times I have prayed for something to later be overwhelmed with gratitude when God blesses me with that very thing.

Don't think I've mastered this. I've been battling it for days, weeks, months. I'm preaching to myself here. But be encouraged, friends! God knows what He's doing in your life and even if it feels like this stage will last forever, it won't. Don't let Satan discourage you from fighting the good fight. Find joy in doing what it is that God has you doing in the here and now, and remember that before you know it, these days will be but a memory. What you do with them is up to you, but don't waste them.

"For who knows what is good for man while he lives the few days of his vain life, which he passes like a shadow?" {Eccl. 6:12}

God does. Rest in His arms, in His love for you today, friends.

A Long-Needed Update

I've been scared to update on my last post... scared to tell you all that things are going better for fear they'll take a turn for the worse and scared to tell you that things are still bad because they really aren't and I'm just.so.blessed. But honestly, I don't know how to start to tell you.

Do I tell you about how the pain slowly dulled and is now nearly gone?? How I disobeyed God and how that didn't go so well?? How I have amazing friends and family that helped me through? How since then, I've experienced the blessings of God in full abundance pouring down on me?

It's been such a growing year for me. I've experienced school and lots of it. People told me that the junior year was heavy, and it's true. Chemistry, Advanced Math, American History and Biblical Worldview don't give me a lot of time, but God keeps reminding me that this is where He has me in life, to learn and study and work hard. And it's all going really well. My days are full, but they aren't overwhelming. God helps me every day.

HPA has been interesting. Every year is such an adjustment, and every year I think is really hard... until the next year. I've learned (and been reminded of), thus far: 1. God works everything out for good. 2. Singing alto is a really fun challenge. 3. True friends make time to listen and remember to check on you. 4. If you hurt someone- even accidentally- apologize right away. You have no idea how much pain can be prevented that way. 5. Saying "No, God, I don't really like that idea." and doing it anyway doesn't end prettily. 6. God loves to bless those who follow Him.

I've had to let go of friends that promised we'd stay together, and God has grown friendships that completely bless my socks off. No words to explain this. He's given me a friend who lets me call her anytime, totally is big-sister protective, and mentors me through life; another who makes me laugh, who cares and listens, and who always brings me back to God; and still another who never runs out of things to talk to me about, who can finish my sentences and with whom I can laugh hysterically about nothing with and who is always a text away from a prayer request.

And finally, everything for me goes back to God and the cross. It has been truly incredible to watch Him work in my life, and to realize that He is really always there, caring, loving, waiting. Prayer after prayer, He has revealed Himself to me, and I'm such an awful Christian- so unworthy to even bear that title- but He loves me anyway. He died to save me, to offer me and you and everyone the undeserved, ultimate grace. These last few weeks, so often I've stood in awe of His holiness, His perfection. It never gets old.

And at the end of this long, rambling blog post, that's what I want you to go away with.

God is good. 

He came to earth. 

He died. 

He rose. 

He is holy. 

He is King.

Jesus, I am Yours.

More soon, friends. ♥

Crashing Down

I think most people have a family. Not a flesh-and-blood, blue eyes, midwest drawl family, but a family of people that you surround yourself with when your mom and dad and sisters and brother can't be there. Theater's my thing and I've been so blessed over the years to have had some wonderful families there.

The devotion teams stand out the most. Each year, the directors pick 4-8 people to give devotions and lead the cast. We're selected, but it's more than that. We're a family. During Fiddler on the Roof, we were all trying to figure out exactly how to do this devotions and family thing, but my My Fair Lady team was incredible. We were all super close, we prayed and talked and encouraged and laughed all the time.

And I've been ready for this year. I had plans and dreams, ideas and devotions, all planned and ready to talk to that new team- my new family- about. Honestly, in my head, I was picking them out too.

"Okay, God, can I have Tim and Andy and Chase and Jamie and Abby and Ashlea and Christianna? Thanks."

Before auditions, I spent some time down on my grandparents' dock. And righ there in my journal, I wrote,

"So right here, God, I dedicate HPA this year to you. I'm placing my role, my cast, my committee, my friends, and my life in your hands. I give it all to You. There is no place I'd rather be than YOUR perfect plan. I am Yours. Use me, Lord."

Did you catch that little part there about my committee? The words sound nice, but they really meant, "God, I'll let You decide which devotion committee I'm on this year. I guess I'm okay with either one." It wasn't real submission, probably because I never had any thoughts about not being on the team. I'd been for the past two years, and I was a strong Christian with a desire to do it. I full-out adored it. I thought that was enough.

It wasn't. God had other plans and other lesson for my life. The cast and committee lists came out and the hardest part of that day wasn't the "oh, she and she and he and they aren't in my show." or even the "Okay, God, I guess I'll do the small, girl-group chorus again." It was reading those lists, seeing those committees, and knowing that they were a family. And I wasn't in it.

Call me crazy, but I've grieved the loss of this never-was-mine family. I denied for a bit that this was the truth, thinking, hoping, pulling at any last straw, "It's just a mistake. ____ will email me any time telling me that they mixed up the lists." Then it hit me and I was mad, upset that they could give "my" place to someone else.

God's been teaching me so much, though. It's humbling to have to answer people's "What committ- oh, right, you're on devotions." with "Actually..." and then the truth. I realized how proud I've been, how much I built my place in HPA on that lofty platform of devotions. I glorified in putting together devotions that would sound good and powerful, not necessarily asking God to speak His words through me, just to use my words for Him. There's a difference. Yet through it all, I loved it so much, I made it an idol in my life. It was an idol of pride, self-worth, and popularity. We all know that God can't stand idols.

So He pulled it down. It kinda felt like HPA as I know it came crashing down around me too. It's brought tears to my eyes more than once to watch the team meet in different corners and knowing how encouraging those meetings are. My heart hurt while I sat through devotions last week. Watching the community between the members has been painful. It's all been painful.

But it's good. That's the last word I want to use to describe it, but I must. Chris Brown talked at the Leadership Summit about how much pain and revenge Saul went through because he refused to admit that David was a better leader and warrior than he was. Saul wouldn't move over or get out of the chariot to make room for David.

Chris then asked us, "Do you have room in your chariot for someone else? Someone who might do the job better than you?" I kinda feel pushed out of the chariot, but honestly, I don't know if I would have gotten out any other way. So it's good. I'm where God wants me, and it's the best place to be. I'm crazy blessed to have been on the devotion team for two years, and I'm crazy blessed to get to listen to their devotions now.

Larry Osborne says, "We don't care who teaches the message, as long as the message is taught."

So teach it, devotion teams. Remind the casts who God is and who we are, and how everything we do; the singing, the dancing, the acting, everything, is for Him and because of Him and His love and His grace. Encourage them, rebuke them, teach them, and love them, every one, even the ones who are in no way like you. Stay humble, stay focused on grace and God. I'm praying for each of you.

"Not to us, oh Lord, not to us, but to Your Name be the glory."

I will write.

I've changed a lot this year. There have been big things in my friends' lives that have changed me: babies, relationships, cancer and suicide. There have also been "little" things: a show, a friend, a phrase, a moment. Through it all, I respond in two ways. My sister and I have many late night conversations in our room, and I write. Both are ways that I pour out my heart, and both God uses to sooth my soul.

Writing- for me- has become more than just a refuge, though. It's become a way that I can serve, can encourage, can minister. I can use my writing to catalog memories, to build someone up, and to sweetly prove a point.

I know that Jesus can speak through words on a page, and that's why I keep writing. If He can use my words to help another, then I will stay up until crazy hours of the night, the keyboard clicking constantly under my fingertips. I will endure cramped hands, paper cuts, and dead computer batteries.

My life goal is to glorify God. If writing does that...

I will write.

The Day After Easter

It's the day after Easter and I recline on our guest bed and write a paper about the respiratory system. The little girls are putting stickers on their letter "F" and the other kids are deep in their school books too.

It's the day after Easter, and this is our worship.

It's the day after Easter, and my Pandora station plays worship music all day long. The respiratory paper stops sometimes, and the writer closes her eyes to dwell on her Jesus. "You can have all this world, but give me Jesus..."

It's the day after Easter, and this is my worship.

It's the day after Easter, and I sit in the bedroom with the twins so that they don't talk to each other while they're supposed to be sleeping. My history pages ask me about the Scottish Covenant and astronomers and Pascal's Law and Isaac Watts.

It's the day after Easter, and this is my worship.

It's the day after Easter, and I stir cheesy potatoes in the frying pan and set the table while Momma cuts apples and peels oranges. We're working together to feed the family.

It's the day after Easter, and this is our worship.

It's the day after Easter, and my worship is vastly different today than it was yesterday. But I believe that we can live lives of worship, and that worship is more than just singing and reading our Bibles. Granted, that is worship...

School is also worship.

Cleaning is also worship.

Eating is also worship.

Breathing is worship, when you do it with the name of Jesus on your lips.

As long as you are doing your work to glorify God, then your work is worship.

Don't be discouraged by the drop from your wonderful church service yesterday to the grind of everyday life today. You can find God in the little things just as much as in the building with the cross.

Your life can be an act of worship to our King of Kings. Will you let it be?

Are You Really Okay?

We're standing in the dusk of backstage left when her searching eyes look into mine. "Linds, are you okay?"

I jump to assure her that I am, that I'm "fine."

Source

Her eyes pierce deeper. "You hide things."

I know. oh, how I know.

"I hope you do tell things to some one."

ouch.

Her words haunt me for the rest of the night and into the next morning.  She's right. I hide things deep, shovel "I'm fine"s on top, because I'm scared of being hurt. again.

She won't hurt me. She loves me. She's my friend.

And she's worth the truth.

Source

It's easy to feel like she won't care, but she does.

It's so easy to feel like she's too busy, has too much stress to handle my little problems. I mean, she's Eliza! in My Fair Lady! She has enough to think about.

But the truth is, I'm hurting her by my hiding.

I only have a week and a half left of this show with her, before she's graduated from HPA forever.

Do I really want this last show to be tainted with my lies? Or will I share, deepen our trust?

It's in the dark of night that I resolve.

And when I see her in a few hours, after we hug and she tells me how practice has gone so far, when she looks into my eyes and asks "And how are you?"

She's going to get the truth.

The whole truth.

Every time.

Because she's worth it.

{When Friends are Gone}

There are people in my life that I take for granted.

Oh, I thank God for them and I smile at their presence but I never think about them leaving.

I just think that they'll be in my life forever.

I know that's not realistic. I know that God puts people in your life when you need them and He can move you on when He wants to.

But you don't think about that day. and you don't imagine it will come knocking at your door tomorrow.
~~~~
We've known them for 8 years and his 18 years to my 15 makes us more like brother and sister than anything else. He works at the church and is at HPA every week and takes classes at our co-op and is always there.

And while I don't always talk to him and sometimes a wave is the only interaction we have in a day he has always been a part of the picture.

He's a constant. I thought he always would be because he's the one who owns the business that's booming already in its 2nd year. The business that was supposed to grow into landscaping and other yard work things that I know nothing about but he did.

But he's taking a trip across the country this summer. and a few days ago he spoke of the military and SEALS and 6 years and everything in my heart was screaming "no", and I was glad that it was dark to hide my sudden shock.

This is his passion. He will do it and do it well and he will shine a strong- oh, such a strong- light for Christ through that broken world.

But it doesn't make it any easier.

I'll search for him at church and wait for his laugh at HPA before my head tells my heart he's gone.

I'm miss his teasing and his faces and his passion. I'll miss the ways he shows his sweet spirit to others- like bringing them caramel hot chocolate when he knows they're having a bad day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The whole thing threw me for a loop. And when things throw me for a loop, I sit and puzzle about them until the way straightens out again.

God is so good and has given me so many people who are all in my life for a reason. I am so blessed by all the little things they do and so often, I don't realize the impact they've made on my life.

The past few days have made me think hard about the role that different people play. I've determined to thank them more, to show my gratitude and love in ways to make them smile. I'm going to think about what my life would look like without them and then thank God that that's not my reality.

And then I will live life to the fullest. every moment. I will dance and I will sing and hug and smile and then I will thank God.

Because He has blessed me with amazing friends here and now.

Ponderings: HPA, Death & Trust in the Lord

It has been a crazy month.

And probably the hardest-craziest-busiest one that my HPA family has ever faced.

I talked a little bit about Marissa's Momma passing away on July 3rd.

The shows announcement was later then it has ever been, not coming out until July 14th.

We had a whirlwind of a two and a half weeks, memorizing monologues and singing "Oh, the Thinks You Can Think."

Friday, July 27th, we went to a party. It was full of laughter and friends, no one even imagining what would come next.

Sunday afternoon, the 29th, Bre's Dad called mine.

Sam and Christianna's dad had died. Extremely unexpectedly.

We had seen him just two days before.

Auditions were only 5 days later, on August 2nd, leaving HPA with an month that can't be looked at lightly.
-----
It really makes me ponder death, this having two of my friends' parents leave this earthly home. We knew that one was coming, the other shocked us all, leaving hundreds of speechless people all over our area.

I had a hard few days, hurting so badly for both of these families that I have grown to love. It's hard to trust sometimes, but after lots of Bible reading and prayer, I know that God has a plan for everything that's happened, both the pain and the good. I'll probably have deeper thoughts on this topic when everything has sunk in a bit more.
-----
Auditions went really, really well. I had to do some last minute adjustments, which are never fun, but God really came through and guided me the whole way. I could so feel His presence and love throughout the whole day... in the hugs He sent my way, the dance party I had with a few friends to relieve our stress, and the answers to the prayers I prayed.

All I can say, is that I'm glad that it's all over and that I'm not in charge of casting. I'm so happy that I can trust in the Lord.
-----
 And really, that's all life is about. Trust in the Lord, and He will make your paths straight. He doesn't promise it will be easy, but He does promise He'll be with you.

He's the best. :)

What Can You Say...

What can you say to a friend whose mom passed into the Gates of Glory only a few short days ago?

Not "I know how you feel."

Everyone says "Let me know what I can do to help you."

And "I'm praying" while it is adequate, just isn't enough words, although it is true.

It all leads me to cry out "God, what do I say to her?!?"

And He whispers in my ear, "Just be there for her. Hug her. Show her that you are there whenever, all the time. Show her the tears in your eyes. Show her your love- and through that love, MY love."

So I hug her. I text her. I'm present and all there.

And I keep praying earnestly, that she can feel His presence.

She does.

And even in the hardest days,

He is good.

Marissa and I~ Wonka 2012

If Only...

The twinsies and I were sitting at the counter last night having a great little discussion when I said something like:

"Jesus died on the cross for us so that we could live."

to which Hannah replied:

"Ohhhhh, that's really niiiiiiice."

Sweet girl, if only you realized how "nice" it is!

{When Our Plans Are Thrown Crazily Out of Loop}

My schedule for list Tuesday included:

Devotions
Finish all written assignments {history}
Make Banana Chocolate Chip Muffins
Learn A major chord
CD for Mrs. Gol----
5 gifts

Do you also see how almost nothing's crossed off?

sigh.

Tuesday morning I was making smoothies for breakfast. Nothing too abnormal about that, right? I sent Jenna out to the garage freezer for some blueberries and turned on the blender. J came back, and said we had a problem. Ellie had left the freezer door cracked the night before and the freezer... wasn't cold. And neither was most of our food.

double sigh.

The kiddos drank their smoothies while Mom and I went out to access the damage. The completely full freezer had thawed raspberry juice dripping down onto every shelf, one could actually poke the squishy meat, and a container of ice cream looked more like milk.

triple sigh.

We threw out 16 cups of cooked, diced chicken, all the raspberries, 16 hamburger patties, a few bags of corn and that ice cream. We decided to keep all the blueberries and all the jam.

That left us with 6 roasts and 3 packages of stew meat, all 75% thawed.  We buy our beef in bulk. :)

Momma and I spent the rest of the morning cleaning the freezer, calling neighbors to borrow crockpots, picking up crockpots in the wagon, mixing up recipes and browning stew meat. That afternoon, I began to see the comedy in the situation when our counter looked like this:

There was stew meat, shredded BBQ beef, beef for Beef and Noodles, and a roast in the oven.

But there were positives to the situation. I started counting them and before long, I was adding them to the list. 

1. That we caught this before all of our food was ruined

2. The fact that we were able to save the jam and blueberries

3. We now have several meals already cooked and in the freezer

4. Our freezer has never been this clean!

5. Our freezer was actually pretty empty- by the end of the year, it will be full to the brim with our new 1/2 cow, around 40 pounds of blueberries, fresh freezer jam, more chicken and who knows what else! God had a perfect time planned for this to happen.

6. The fact that...

 My history assignments didn't get done. (They actually still aren't.) I was worn out of kitchen work and so didn't make the muffins.  I don't know the A major chord for the guitar, and Mrs. Gol----'s cd still isn't in the mail. 

BUT...

My schedule was thrown out for God's schedule.

and maybe that's worth a sigh of delight.

Just Send an Arrow Through My Heart Already

Source: Uploaded by user via Lindsey Marie on Pinterest

Cataloging Life

I've started carrying my camera around more. It sounds so simple- so easy. and it is. I mean, it takes a second and a half to clip my camera case to my belt loop.

and yet, that extra second and a half allows me to capture little moments that I might miss otherwise.

No, my pictures aren't perfect. Sometimes they're blurry and sometimes they turn people's faces yellow.

But they always mean something. They always carry a memory, they capture a moment in time.

Whether it's the feeling of my friends' arms around my waist, or the girls' excitement about milkshakes, every moment is worth the memory space it takes up.

I'm cataloging life.

And that is truly bliss.

Mrs. P

Yesterday was much more difficult then I would have imagined.

We all knew something was up, when the full HPA staff called our full cast to together at 10. I mean, most of them were supposed to be at Beauty and the Beast, which opened that night. and when Mr. G and Mrs. B got up there and then couldn't say anything for a moment, the tension only grew.

The short of it, our assistant director, Mrs. P along with her daughter Christina, have had to drop our show. We had a very emotional day, lots of tears from everyone, getting to hug them one last time and lots of prayers.

Mr G read us 1 Peter 5:6&7 after he told us the news and it reads

Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. 

We are trusting that God is going to lift us up. We need His help right now. With only two practices left until Tech week, these final days are critical. and Mr. G can't do it alone.

Please be praying for our entire Fiddler cast. There was a gaping hole yesterday, both in the practice and in our hearts. Healing takes time, and we don't have much of it.

Mrs. P and her lovely daughter, Theresa. ::photo by my Veronica-Girl::

Mrs. P- This is my public acknowledgment to say thank you for being such an influential person in my life. I have been so touched by your kindness, your brilliant smile and your sweet words. Thank you for living for Christ through everything you do. I miss you so much already. HPA won't be the same without your shining presence. I love you.

No More {on being a chameleon and a brief review of Monumental}

Source: livedoor.blogimg.jp via Haro on Pinterest

For way too long, I was a chameleon.

It started back years ago, when I was the quietest, shyest girl you could have imaged. It was easiest just to agree and nod. I mean, if I said what I thought- people might actually notice me, they might scorn me. And I couldn't do that, could I?

But recently, I've took a stand. It's come slowly, starting with the little things at HPA.

Why, no, I don't listen to ____.
No, I doesn't really have an interest in watching ____.
Actually, I hardly watch any tv at all.

Even going to Christian school for K & 2-3, I was always the conservative one. I didn't watch the popular movies. I didn't even use the "s" word (stupid) or other words that I shan't mention on here. I stuck out as the girl who hardly said anything, and thus, I didn't have many (any?) friends.

And still, HPA isn't perfect. and I'm still the conservative one. But the funny thing is: I don't mind anymore. I get sad sometimes, wondering how things could ever work out, but I'm okay with it now. I have an amazing group of friends who - even if they don't agree with me on a certain topic- still love me and accept me for who I am.

Example: That new movie, the one hitting box offices all over America, Hunger Games. At our house, it hasn't even been talked about. Kristin and I have no interest whatsoever in watching people slaughter each other. and paying for it? This is the stuff that we race to find the off button on the remote for.

And is it God honoring? What about "You shall not murder?" What are we supporting with our time, with our money and our lives by watching something like this?

And a few days ago, I took a huge step and actually told someone why I didn't like The Hunger Games, why I wasn't planning on watching it, and where the Bible says it is wrong. No, my words didn't flow smoothly, yes, I stumbled, but it was good. I had peace about the whole thing.

And then last night, my family went to watch Kirk Cameron's Monumental. It was amazing. Such a beautiful picture of what our country used to be and yet horrifying how changed we have become. One of my favorite quotes would have had to be:

The Congress were the first to print Bibles in the United States and do you know what they were for? The schools. Congress wanted to get the Word of God into the hands of families and students all over the country.

Go see this movie, people. If it's not showing close to you, you can demand it come to a theater close to you here.

Let's show Obama that Christians are more then people who sit around and go to church occasionally. We care and we want change. Not healthcare, but positive change. We want liberty and justice.

We want to be able to worship our God.

What are you gonna do about it?

Just Read

So do something for me, will you?

Get up and grab your Bible. and maybe a pen.

and now open it. Something like Philippians or Colossians or Romans would work well.

Find the button on your computer that causes the screen to go blank.

And just read.

(You might have to use that pen.)

Absorb God's words to you. He wrote them for you. He died for you.

I think you can spare the time to write a Letter He wrote.

And you might just find yourself crazily, incredibly blessed by it.

Have a good weekend, folks.

Rocking Chair Lessons

I sat there in the dark. The weight of her too-light body in my arms. and I ponder, I wonder, why it's taken me so long to get to this place, to this moment.

~~~~~

It started well. I gave them a bath, brushed the blonde wisps of hair, zipped the cupcake jammies and held them while they prayed. Laid them in their beds, found Snuffy and Dimples, covered up little girls with fuzzy blankets, turned off the lights and shut the door.

Not five minutes had passed before the first "Deedeeeeeeee. I have to go pottyyyyyyyyyy."

And because there's two of them, everything has to be done twice.

Two pairs of jammies unzipped.

Two diapers off.

Two girls wanting a new roll of "paper toilet."

Diapers back on.

Jammies zipped back up.

Blankets covering two girls up.

I sank back down into the red lazy boy downstairs when, moments later,

"Deedee. I hot and cold. Deedeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee."

Back up the stairs I went.

An hour later, we had solved these issues and more:

Dimples had "fallen" out of Ellie's crib
Two girls were thirsty and wanted water "right now" not in the morning
The hall light must be off, but the night light must be on
Hannah wanted to know what I had said to Ellie- "last time."
I must remember when Mommy gets home that both girls want "a big hug and a tiss"

It was almost 10 when I went up again. Standing there in front of Ellie’s crib, exhaustion and annoyance rose up within me.

But then,

“I give you second chances by the oceanful. Will you extend grace to her?”

So I put on the soft voice, pick her up, hold her tight and sink into the rocker in the corner. A few hymns later, I lay her drowsy body back into the bed and move on to the next little girl- who has been patiently waiting ever since I lifted Ell-Girl up.

I finish singing through Little Women, singing every quiet song whose words I can remember all of.

Then I sit, just dwelling in the quiet of the room. Wondering why I get exasperated so easily and why it can be so hard to love those closest to you.

Wondering how much soon I could have gone to bed if I had tried this grace an hour ago.

But I realize that it’s a lesson that must be learned and that I have the best Teacher possible.

And Hanni’s big blue orbs blink open, connect with mine, and close for the night.

Grace Camp (Part Two)

 {Part One posted here}

I open my Bible, eager for something that can be used to express what I feel right now.

The 63rd psalm.

God, You are my God...

I soak it up. I am a lion, hungry, starved for meat, for substance. I find what I am looking for and more.

God, You are so good.

Finally opening the devotional that has blessed me so much, I read. I write. I pause, reflecting on what I know to be true. I challenge myself, and then I pray.

God, Thank you so much for allowing me to have this time full of You today...

I glance at my phone to check the time. 6:53. I gather my things, blowing off sand and smoothening the pages. As I rise to begin the walk back, the rooster crows. A muted baaa rises from the sheep pen and I speeden my steps towards “home”.

Mama is up. She greets me as I place my things on the table and receive a frying pan full of stuff. good stuff.

She is off for the showers, off for a bit of hot water before the heaters run cold. I plug in the fry pan and pick up two eggs. They remind me of the plans I have made for myself, the plans that I scribbled into the margins of my lifebook,the one in God's hands. Smooth and white and firm, the eggs are still under my hands. I have control.

God has control.

I tap the eggs against the pan, urging them to let me coax out the good. They groan. I tap harder and have to hit them one last time before they give in. They crack. I open them, dropping the insides into the bowl and throwing away the shell.

Lord, you may crack me. I know that sometimes I protest, but I'm giving you back the pen. It hurts when you throw away the shell, the shell of my “perfect life...”

Trust Me, Daughter. I will give you joy.

I grab more eggs, emptying each in turn. 14 eggs. I beat them mercilessly before pouring in milk, cold and sweet. Like grace.

See, daughter? Even when life gets tough, I give grace.

I grind salt and pepper into my eggy mixture, the mixture that is giving me lessons in Him. I cut a pat of butter, and it turns to liquid gold under the heat of the pan. I hear the door open and a little arm clothed in brown flowered pajamas pushes it open enough to stick her face out. Dimples deep enough to hold the Pacific beam up at me and a small voice proclaims delightedly, "Hi Deedee!" the thought comes before I can stop it.

There goes my peace and quiet! I won't be alone for the rest of the day!

Then the Voice comes again.

Remember child, I give grace and strength. All you need to do is ask.

I swoop the girl up in my arms and she laughs. I give her a good morning hug before setting her down next to me and brushing back the sleeptangled hair.

“Me too, Deedee? Me eggs?”

I let her grind a bit more salt into the gloopy bowlful, and then I mix one more time before pouring them into the sizzling pan.

I stir, scraping the pan clean.

Ellie talks on and on, gleeful at her time alone with big sister.

The eggs are done.

I turn off the heat, cover them to keep them warm.

I lay out plates and Ellie puts a muffin on each one. A muffin loses a chocolate chip to a hungry two year old, but I pretend to be too busy pouring water to notice.

I see Mom on her way back and hear another voice by the door, “me too! Me help too!” and suddenly the campsite is full of noise and children.

I dish eggs. and grace.

“I want cheese!”

“Please pass the salt. I SAID, please pass the salt!”

A cup overturns, spilling its contents onto the table, the bowl of eggs and the bench.

Remember, daughter...

I remember, Lord. Joy and grace.

So I grab another bowl. And I serve up more eggs, with an extra helping of grace.