Alabaster Jar

While He was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of a man known as Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his Head.

Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, "Why this waste of perfume? It could have been sold for more than a year's wages and the money given to the poor." And they rebuked her harshly.

"Leave her alone," said Jesus. "Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to Me....She did what she could...."

Mark 14:3-6,8

So today I sliced my finger open while cleaning a counter top in the kitchen. You may wonder what that has to do with the above passage of Scripture. I'll get to that.
 
I was moving a bottle of extra virgin olive oil out of my way when it slipped out of my hand, and the next thing I know there is a flood of evoo all over the place. The bottle itself broke.
 
It may sound odd, but truly the first thing that came into my mind was the woman who broke her alabaster jar of perfume and anointed Jesus. She deliberately (and you could perhaps even say defiantly) adored, worshipped, and poured all of what she could onto Christ. Jesus even said that she "did what she could." That whole "one thing" God has been speaking to me lately seems to fit here, too. She was focused on one thing. She was not focused on what others were saying about her, how others would perceive her, or how costly (literally) her sacrifice was. She poured herself unto Him.
 
Is that what I do? Or do I break my proverbial alabaster jar open for other things? If my thoughts and concerns are transfixed on the world, doesn't that say that my treasure is stored in the world? If I am worrying about money, am I not breaking my alabaster jar upon the head of worry?
 
Financial burdens are real. Believe me, I know. I am no stranger to struggle and never have been. But why should I give all my attention to a worldly worry rather than focusing all my attention on the One who has always provided?
 
The only thing I need to be anointing in my heart is Jesus. Not fear, not anxiety, not worry. I need to trust Him. Worry indicates that I do not.
 
How does the cut finger fit into this? Well, it just made sense to me that, if I am breaking myself open for    (insert worldly thing here)   , then I am quite likely to get cut. Nothing good comes from worry. It cuts us, it hurts like you-know-what, and it can possibly lead to an infection.
 
All that I could do was take care of my wound, clean up my mess, and move forward in the right direction. I want to do what I can for the Lord. I don't want to give one more ounce of my energy to fear.

Where is yours?

But you, when you pray, go into your room, and when you have shut your door, pray to your Father Who is in the secret place; and your Father Who sees in secret will reward you openly.

Matthew 6:6

Do you have a secret place to pray? Would you mind sharing what type of place it is? I desperately need some ideas.

Nature Tidbit #1

I am beginning to wonder just how much I am like the sugar maple in my back yard (at least, I'm pretty sure it's a sugar maple). This dry spell we've been having has practically baked it. The leaves are withering from the heat and drought. Here is the worst part: now the leaves are beginning to fall from their branches, just as if it was October rather than August. Even the two nights of torrential rain we had didn't help it. It sucked the water so quickly that it might as well not have rained at all.

It reminds me of Scripture found in the first Psalm:

They are like trees planted along the riverbank,

bearing fruit each season.

Their leaves never wither,

and they prosper in all they do.

 
Psalm 1:2 explains just who verse 3 (above) describes:
 

...[those who] delight in the law of the Lord,

meditating on it day and night.

If I choke the Word out of my life, I will wither. I will thirst. Not only will I not bear fruit, but I will wither. I will be malnourished, shriveled up just like my maple tree. I will be experiencing a time of fall when I could be experiencing a summer.

The good news is that my sugar maple has strong roots. It has that much going for it. I have hope that it will not die. I know that rain is coming. I have strong roots, too, and I know that my season of drought is coming to an end. I just have to keep feeding myself with His Word. I cannot expect two days of Bible reading to transform and renew my entire mind. I have to fix my thoughts on Him, not my circumstances and certainly not myself.

There really are quite a few nature metaphors to be found in Scripture. I wonder if anyone else thinks the way I do when it comes to looking at withering trees and so on. It seems that God chooses to speak to me this way pretty often. Maybe He would speak to us all this way if we would but be still and listen and observe. Perhaps that is one of His many glorious purposes in creating such an indescribably fascinating universe.

I think I just felt awe for the first time....ever.

Driving a country road at twilight is an experience. You should do it sometime if you haven't. I don't know why, but while driving down Old Whiteville Road, I couldn't help but notice how the pines looked like they were scraping the sky. And the sky, oh my goodness, the sky. I cannot even begin to tell you what color it was. "Dark blue" would be an insult. I am utterly amazed by how the sky changed so dramatically, so quickly, yet so untraceably from twilight to dusk to night. Things seem to glow at dusk, though I cannot explain what that means exactly. It almost felt like seeing God's breath rest on creation. And then I realized that God not only made this for me to see, but He is there with me in that very moment. I felt His presence. I really felt it, and it was more real than this keyboard I'm touching right now.

I wanted to cry, but I could not. It was something stronger than crying that I was feeling...

I can only say that it must have been awe.

You see, I often hear about "counting the cost" of following Christ. And yes, it's true that I should know exactly what it means to be a disciple before taking that step. But there comes a certain point when we need to realize that there really is no cost.

Even on my best day and in my best mood with my best intentions, my best "good deed" is like a filthy rag when compared to His holiness. There is no cost to follow Him. I have to give up things of the flesh, but I gain contentment and joy in their place. I may suffer persecution, but I will still have peace. I may be misunderstood and judged by all those dear to me, but the Father embraces me. No, there is no cost. The only cost involved is that He spent His life for a person like me. I am but a teensy speck of a speck on the timelime of history and all those that have gone before me. How many moments of unspeakable beauty have I taken for granted? How many moments of communion with Him did I miss?

How many moments have you missed?

The world sees and soon forgets. Oh, God, I don't want to be like the world. I want to see You everywhere I go, everywhere I find myself. And I want to remember what I experienced tonight for years to come. I don't want to forget. Help me to be like You.

A theme, maybe?

My last post was about being focused on "one thing." (One thing = Jesus.) Little did I know what I would read in my Bible today. Ah, yes. The infamous Martha and Mary story. I'm pretty familiar with this one, right? I've heard several sermons about it from various vantage points, and I even read a book devoted to just this one story in particular. How, then, could I possible find something new here?

But you see....it's the glory of God to hide a matter (Proverbs 25:2). We have to search it out.

 "Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."

(Luke 10:41-42)

Only ONE THING is needed! Ding ding ding ding! The word for needed in this context is chreia --- meaning a necessity, such a thing as needed for sustenance. But...it also has a meaning of duty or business. Hmm.

What if Jesus spoke to me, "Nathalie, Nathalie. Only one thing is needed for your sustenance. Only one thing is your duty. Only one thing is really your business."

And I see that Mary chose what is better. She made a conscious choice to sit at His feet. She knew, I'm sure, that there were other things she could be doing, things that probably seemed necessary at the time, but she made a choice to focus on one thing. Him. And everything fell into place. Choosing Him led her to something that nothing and nobody could take away from her.

I have to make a choice. I cannot expect Jesus to force Himself upon me, and I need to realize where my one true duty lies. My duty does not lie to my husband or to my family or to my friends or to my country or to whatever else you could think of. My duty lies with Him. And if I make knowing Him the one thing I devote myself to, all my other "duties" will fall into place.

How could I not see this before?? Why in the world would I choose to be concerned over many things versus being concerned over just one thing? It doesn't really make rational sense to make any other decision. Martha wasn't necessarily wrong per se, but Mary made a much better choice. That's what I want...

I'm sorry if this rambles and doesn't flow very well. I just get excited sometimes.

Simplifying my mind.

Life has so many distractions. Too many. When I think of all the things that I allow to occupy my mind, it's actually quite a bit surprising how quickly Jesus gets squeezed into a dark corner somewhere. How many times have I allowed this to happen? I push Him to the recesses of my innermost being and only take Him out when it's "convenient." Sadly, when "convenient" times come along, Jesus has collected a fine layer of dust, and I'm left with a bad taste of guilt in my mouth. What's wrong with this picture? The HUGE thing that's wrong with this picture is that my life is dangerously close to allowing "convenience" to take over. God, help me. Help us all.

I re-read Luke chapter 9 today. I don't know why. Normally, I would have moved ahead and started chapter 10. I guess the Lord had something He really wanted me to ponder...........

As the time approached for Him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem.

(Luke 9:51)

Strong's says that the word for "resolutely" is stērizō, meaning stable, placed firmly, set fast, fixed...strengthened...rendered one's mind constant.

Jesus was determined. He was resolved. His heart did not waver in the light of what was to come. He fixed His eyes on one thing, strengthened Himself, and rendered His thoughts on one constant.

And the Word tells us that we have the mind of Christ (I Corinthians 2:16).

This is what I want. I want to be a woman who is focused on one thing. I want my mind to be set on Jesus. If I resolve to do this and humbly accept God's grace to do so, I won't settle for a convenient Jesus anymore. My heart will be stayed on Him. And, if my heart is stayed on Him, the other areas of my life will fall into place: marriage, family, provision, prayer disciplines, spiritual growth, etc.

Jesus did many things, but leading a complicated, cluttered, distracted life was not one of them. He was focused. Just one thing. That's all I need to regularly occupy my mind with. One thing.

Him.

Luke 14:33

My life is no longer my life. It is now His life.

My time is no longer my time. It is now His time.

My possessions are no longer my possessions. They are now His possessions.

My body is no longer my body. It is now His body.

My marriage is no longer my marriage. It is now His marriage.

My future is no longer my future. It is now His future.

"...any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be My disciple."

- Jesus Christ

One of the BEST sermons I've EVER heard.

You may think that you just can't do the whole 2 hours. Well, I strongly encourage you to watch this in increments, then.

Sometimes I feel like a motherless child.

For a long time, I have been trying to deny what I already know to be true in my heart. And, to say the least, it's devastating. There have been many times in the past where I have felt unloved, betrayed, or abused at the hands of my mom. Yesterday's revelation, though, has hammered in some sort of final nail and has shown me just how selfish, cruel, and heartless someone can be when they are loaded with bitterness and refuse to turn to the Lord.

I heard Three Dog Night's "Easy to Be Hard" this morning while driving home from work. It's pretty sad to immediately associate some of the lyrics with my mom.

It's also pretty sad to feel like this:

What can I do but cast my cares upon Him (I Peter 5:7)? Nothing. I thank God I'm not alone, even when I feel that I am. Maybe I really am a motherless child in a figurative way.

Have you?

Rather than boycotting him, have you prayed for Tony Hayward? Have you prayed for God to touch his heart, to bring him to repentance, and to give him wisdom? 

Rather than being satisfied with a shallow sympathy, have you prayed for those living along the coast? Have you prayed for their endurance, for their provision, and for their response in all of this to be astoundingly Christlike?

Rather than forgetting them, have you prayed for the families left behind of the 11 workers who died? Have you prayed for their peace and comfort? 

Rather than giving in to worry and anger, have you prayed for His creation to be restored to reflect His glory? Have you prayed for Him to reveal what method would work best and to send the right workers?

Oswald Chambers once said that we "act like pagans in a crisis." We don't pray about these things; we turn to worldly means of coping: boycotts, protests, etc. All I know is that our Father has told us to pray about everything. He has commanded us to love our enemies and to bless them. Of course I think the Gulf Coast, environment, and the oil spill are extremely important to the Lord. I also believe that He is concerned about our reaction to those things and how we choose to move forward.

Will we move forward just as Jesus would? Or will we move forward in the traditions of this world?

Seriously, don't read this unless you WANT some conviction.

"There is a common attitude among modern wives that says we must stand up for ourselves --- to make sure our husbands never take us for granted, to make sure we are receiving just as much as we are giving. We fear that the moment we choose to give up the control position in our marriage, we have signed away our life and our identity. We think that when we humble ourselves to serve our husbands, we will lose our respect and dignity as a woman and become nothing but a doormat. But, as a great Christian woman once said, 'Christ became even lower than a doormat.' Christ did not scrape and grasp for His rights, His power, His control. He willingly sacrificed them in order to meet our greatest need. There is no greater love than the One who stooped so low and sacrificed so much for the sake of His Beloved. Christ was not worried about what He would receive from us. He simply gave --- He willingly poured out His breath and blood because He loved us (Philippians 2:6)."



"This [see above for what 'this' means] is how we are called to love our husbands. Not holding back --- pouring ourselves out for our man with abandon. Not scraping for our own rights, not grasping for our own agenda, but humbling ourselves daily, seeking our spouse's good above our own."



"Many modern messages for women urge us to look out for ourselves. They say that we shouldn't become so busy meeting other people's needs that we forget to meet our own. But what does Christ say? 'Take no thought for your life' (Matthew 6:25 KJV)....Look at Christ's example when He was here on earth. He was so busy pouring out for others that He scarcely had time to sleep or eat. He was not self-focused or self-protective....For some reason, I just can't imagine Christ taking time away from His ministry to 'pamper Himself.' The only personal area of His life that Jesus diligently protected was private times of prayer."



"Well, sorry to be so blunt, but most 'normal, everyday' Christians in the Western world are living pleasure-seeking, self-absorbed lives. Just think about it. Are we, as the majority of American Christians, pouring ourselves out for the lost and the least, or are we lying on our couches, eating pizza, and watching reality TV? Millions of hurting, destitute, hopeless people are crying out for someone to help them. But sadly, we are frighteningly similar to the wealthy Christians during the Holocaust who sat comfortably in church singing hymns at the tops of their lungs to drown out the anguished cries of the thousands of Jews who passed by in cattle cars on their way to death camps."



"Here's the publisher's description of that popular women's book Captivating. 'The message of Captivating is this: Your heart matters more than anything else in all creation.' And what is meant by the term 'your heart'? According to the author of the book, 'The heart is who you are. The real self. Me. My heart is me. The real me. Your heart is you.' So in other words, you matter more than anything else in all creation.
Really?
Do you matter more than the 143 million orphans around the world, starving, scared, abandoned, and alone? Do you matter more than the millions of Latin American street children who hide in alleys and old buildings to escape the 'death squads' of corrupt policemen who hunt them down for sport? Do you matter more than the millions of elementary school-aged girls kept as slave prostitutes in South America? Do you matter more than millions of starving kids who live in dumps and eat buzzard soup or dead dogs to survive?...While American Christians are preoccupied with healing their own inner wounds, being set free to be their true selves, and fighting to be noticed and appreciated for their own unique qualities, staggering numbers of people around the world are living in such misery, squalor, and pain that we cannot even imagine."



"Most of us would be horrified at the thought of ignoring a cattle car of screaming Jews as they were hauled away to their deaths. But we do it every single day when we turn a deaf ear and a blind eye to the millions of destitute and dying who urgently need our help. We do it when we spend all our living on self-indulgent pleasures instead of rescuing abandoned children. We do it when we go on luxury cruises instead of outreaches to the poor. We do it when we have movie marathons instead of prayer vigils for the oppressed. We do it every time we make our own comforts and happiness the highest priority."



"Our hearts are NOT the most important things in the world. The Down syndrome boy in Mexico City who sleeps on the street and begs for food is the most important thing in the world. The nine-year-old girl whose virginity is auctioned off to a roomful of [men] is the most important thing in the world....Scripture says that God is no respecter of persons....All of us are valuable and equal in His sight. However, there are some people who...are extra close to His heart. They are the poor, the lame, the weak, and the outcast."



"These people have a claim on your life. They have a claim on my life. They are a priority to Christ and therefore must be a priority to us. If we are so preoccupied with self that we will not show the practical, life-changing, hope-giving love of Christ to them, our faith is dead."



"God might not call every one of us to...Hong Kong...or...India....It is true that He has unique roles for each of us to play...and that each of us are called to different things. But not one of us is 'called' to live the self-indulgent, pleasure-seeking, comfort-craving life of the typical American Christian. If you think that God has called you to merely live in a nice house with a well-paying job and be part of a Bible study group, then you aren't very familiar with what His Word says....those things are not the essence of the Christian life."



"There is a sacred claim upon each of our lives that is not to be ignored. Christ makes us whole so that we can be poured out for Him. Not once a year. Not even two or three times a week. He has called us to be a living sacrifice --- to live a lifestyle of serving and sacrifice for His kingdom."



"...you cannot assume that someone else is going to take care of it. You need to act as if you are the only one who knows of the need, and that God has specially chosen you to meet it. (And if it is impossible for you to meet the need practically, it is never impossible for you to meet the need spiritually by laboring...in fervent prayer.)"

all from Set-Apart Femininity by Leslie Ludy

A change I can live with.

Something crazy is happening. This morning I actually looked in the mirror and thought to myself that I'm pretty. Not in a vain way, mind you, but in a God-thank-You-for-making-me-the-way-You-wanted-to sort of way.

I cannot recall ever having such a thought about myself. Ever.

I don't even know how to explain it. It still doesn't make total sense to me. I have on absolutely no make-up (I don't wear it anymore), I've been pretty run down with bronchitis for a week, and I had just gotten out of bed. Yet the first thing that entered my mind upon seeing my reflection was..........positive.

Guys may not understand this, but the ladies will. I may not have put quite as much effort into it as other women, but I have spent almost my entire life trying to be something I'm not. Magazine covers that you spot at Walmart morph into "goals" that you need to try to meet. Advertising assaults us with worldly standards of Good Enough and then tells us to waste our money on their never-ending products because "we're worth it." What am I worth? For as long as I can remember, I've been worth how even my skin tone looks. I've been worth $10 foundation. I've been worth mascara + eyeliner + powder + blush + bronzer + eyeshadow + concealer. I've been worth endlessly searching for a right color. I've been worth Never Quite There.

When I looked in the mirror this morning, I noticed that I actually have freckles. I honestly didn't know that I had them. You might be thinking, "How could you not know something like that?" I'll tell you how: when I didn't have a pound of stuff on my face, I would not look at myself closely. I couldn't really stand to.

All other things aside, I cannot even begin to express how good it feels to not hate my face. I never thought it was possible. The thought never even crossed my mind. I never knew it all these years, but I feel like I must have been carrying around a 200-pound sack of concrete for about 20+ years. I literally feel lighter. As sappy as it sounds, I truly could cry thinking about the difference; that is how incredibly strong this sense of freedom and gratitude is.

May I never cheapen the blood of Christ by believing that I can improve on what He has made. May I never cheapen Christ's death by believing that He has been unable to deliver the sound mind His Word says He's given me. May I never allow any thought about myself to exalt itself against the knowledge of God.

I am worth far more than what the world says I am, and so are you.

How can scary change feel so great?

Yesterday my husband and I went on a hunt for some good frozen custard. Rita's downtown was closed, but we managed to make it to Andy's. Their frozen custard was pretty tasty. :) And how blessed am I to have such a loving husband? I've been sick with bronchitis, and he didn't hesitate to drive me all over Fayetteville to find frozen custard for my sore throat. I love Gerry a lot.

Anyway, yesterday's outing was a bit of an experience for me since this was my first time wearing a head covering (kind of like this one, only mine said, "Think Green!" all over it) in public. Pair that with a long skirt, no make-up, and a modest shirt, and I felt like everyone (okay, not everyone) was staring at me. It was..........a tad uncomfortable.

I suppose I'm coming out of the closet here, for lack of a better way to know how to put it. Something within me has been crying out, insisting that there must be a whole lot more to living as a Christian than I've been led to believe. I've been doing a lot of thinking, reading, etc., about the early Church. I feel strongly pulled in this direction. Something tells me that modern Christianity has become extremely watered down. I need to try to get back to the source. I want to know how the first Christians did this thing called life.

41 Jesus sat down near the collection box in the Temple and watched as the crowds dropped in their money. Many rich people put in large amounts. 42 Then a poor widow came and dropped in two small coins.

43 Jesus called His disciples to Him and said, “I tell you the truth, this poor widow has given more than all the others who are making contributions. 44 For they gave a tiny part of their surplus, but she, poor as she is, has given everything she had to live on.”

(Mark 12:41-44)

I see so much more than Jesus addressing money in this lesson. I wonder to myself how I can be more like this woman who gave everything she had. What do I have to give? A lot of people in today's churches give a whole lot of things: they get involved in beaucoups of ministries, they expand churches, they make sure they listen to new Christian music, they have Christian t-shirts (and bumper stickers, and jewelry, and décor, and books, and on and on and on). But what about the rest of their lives? Are they putting Christ first in everything? What about in their entertainment choices? (Even something as seemingly wholesome as "The Princess Bride" uses God's name in vain.) What about in every dollar they spend? How many have thought about selling that 2,000 square-foot house and downsizing..........just to give whatever is made from the sale, back? How many girls have considered giving up tight Christian t-shirts for something that isn't revealing how much they've "got"?

God, I want to give you everything, every part of me. There are countless things that are so worldy that I've set my eyes upon. Help me, Father. I want to live a life of sacrifice. I thank You for all the things You've been teaching me through Your Word and through Your disciples here on earth. I never imagined that the freedom I'm finding in obedience would feel so..........freeing! And it is such a wonderful, undeserved thing. Help me to press in and press on. I don't want to look back like Lot's wife. I want to keep my eyes only on You. Please help me to give everything I can possibly give to You....

1Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. 2Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. 3For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.

(Colossians 3:1-3)

Currently taped to my bathroom mirror (which, by the way, is a GREAT place to put stuff so it's constantly in your face)

A Wife of Noble Character

- is a precious treasure

- is strong, graceful, and cheerful about the future

- is always dependable and trustworthy

- speaks sensibly and with wisdom

- enriches her husband's life

- gives instructions with kindness

- carefully watches everything in her household

- is good to her husband every day

- makes the best of what she has

- tries new things, is full of surprises, and isn't boring

- is an early riser

- plans ahead

- is a good steward

- makes good decisions

- is a hard worker

- stays busy (as opposed to idle...doesn't mean never resting) and isn't lazy

- helps the needy

- sees that her husband's needs are met

- is willing to do whatever it takes

- submits to her husband's authority

- covers her husband in prayer

- is modest and honors her husband at all times

(adapted from Proverbs 31)

You know, I used to read this passage of Scripture and almost want to groan aloud. That is more than understandable when a woman looks at this as the definition of female perfection. Thank goodness it's not about that. There is absolutely no suggestion of breaking my back to be sure that there's never a spot on the kitchen floor, it doesn't say that clothes have to be put away immediately, and I don't think it tells me that I always have to "feel good." When I look at these things as (attainable) goals to work on for, oh, the rest of my life or so, it doesn't seem so unrealistic. What woman doesn't want to be cheerful about the future? Who doesn't want to be full of life, wisdom, and kindness? Heck yeah, I want that! So...rather than looking at this list as something accusatory, I'm choosing to look at it as something liberating...

Extremism?

I'm beginning to wonder just what exactly God is doing inside of me. I'm starting to find myself drawn to give up a lot of things, things that most Christians would not think twice about. I keep thinking that He is calling me to extremism, but really..........can anything I do or anything I give up for His sake be too extreme? Take wearing make-up, for example. I'm realizing that I truly don't need to occupy my time worrying about it or wasting money on it. A lot of Christian women would consider this an "extreme" point of view. Is it really? Is giving up make-up extreme? It's make-up, not amputating a limb. And since I'm on the topic of make-up, I wonder how many Christian women out there would be willing to never wear it again. Personally, I can honestly say that it really scares me to not rely on it anymore to feel good about myself. Doesn't that say something right there? Why do I need it to feel like I look presentable? If you're a woman reading this, take a minute and just think about how ridiculous that is. We spend so much money and time trying to look better (what other reason is there for wearing it?), and I can't imagine that God doesn't have an opinion about it. I wonder how He felt all those times when I thought to myself that at least I would look "okay" after putting on about 5 different cosmetics on my face. I don't know about you, but I want freedom from that mindset. I think God wants me to have that freedom, too.

Another thing that has been on my mind are the movies I watch. If you know me at all, you know how much I love movies. I literally went into panic mode just at the thought of cutting out the bulk of what I would normally watch. My need for entertainment is so great that I became completely okay with God's name being taken in vain. My need for entertainment is so great that I found nothing wrong with amusing myself with sins that Christ died for. Most Christians would say that it's not a big deal and that these things can be viewed without having any effects on them. It's supposed to be a sign of spiritual maturity, sort of knowing just how much of the world you can dabble in. At one point in time, I had that same opinion. I'm not so convinced anymore. I keep thinking about the Scriptures that say, "Turn my eyes from worthless things" (Psalm 119:37), and "I will refuse to look at anything vile and vulgar" (Psalm 101:3). Was it easy to cancel my Netflix subscription? No. How important is it to me to see that God's name is honored? I want it to be so crucial to me that I can't stand to entertain myself with things that mock Him and the sins that His Son died for. There was a movie I wanted to go see yesterday at the dollar theater, and after looking up what sort of content was in the film, I realized that I should not go see it. But I really wanted to! I had to make a hard decision to place honoring God's name above my desire to be entertained for 2 hours. I was really struggling. That in and of itself tells me that something's wrong.

Anyway, a few days ago, I read this about Jesus in Mark 3:1-5:

Jesus went into the synagogue again and noticed a man with a deformed hand. 2 Since it was the Sabbath, Jesus’ enemies watched Him closely. If He healed the man’s hand, they planned to accuse Him of working on the Sabbath. 3 Jesus said to the man with the deformed hand, “Come and stand in front of everyone.” 4 Then He turned to His critics and asked, “Does the law permit good deeds on the Sabbath, or is it a day for doing evil? Is this a day to save life or to destroy it?” But they wouldn’t answer Him. 5 He looked around at them angrily and was deeply saddened by their hard hearts. Then He said to the man, “Hold out your hand.” So the man held out his hand, and it was restored!

It was good for me to see how Jesus handled His anger. He didn't lecture, He didn't yell, and He didn't allow His anger to sway Him from His focus. He expressed and vented His anger by correcting the problem at hand (no pun intended). He focused on what needed to be and could be changed.

It's all too easy for me to look around me at others and pass judgment. I don't want to be that way. Yes, I am angry and disappointed in the state of the Church in America. It blows my mind to know how much information we have at our fingertips 24/7/365, and yet radical change seems to be nonexistent. I can allow that anger and disappointment to drive me away from the faith (which is the direction I could have easily chosen not too long ago), or I can use what I feel to push me to focus on what I can correct: myself. I don't have to be like the rest of the world. I want more than that. I want something authentic, something radical, something extreme, something life-altering. And I think God wants that for me, too.

My heart has heard You say, “Come and talk with Me.” And my heart responds, “Lord, I am coming.” (Psalm 27:8)

Well, okay, Lord. We're talking about some scary stuff, but I would rather do these things for You than spend a lifetime in a place of safe, Americanized Christianity. So, yes, I am coming to hear and listen to all You have to say.....

Dear "Rolling Stone"

Dear "Rolling Stone,"

Thank you for littering my mailbox this afternoon. I know that I subscribed to you, oh, about 9 years ago, but really..........you have the nerve to show your face again? I thought we had an understanding. For some strange reason, seeing a brunette in roller skates, gold socks, and a cliché too-short school girl skirt with her butt hanging out just doesn't do it for me. Maybe I'm supposed to like the blonde cheerleader with her backside plopped atop the bike's handlebars? Either way, it's a tad distasteful. Gross. And pathetic.

Kudos to your photographers for boosting the popularity of these two women, especially among the red-blooded American male population. I'm sure Issue 1102 is gracing the tank of many toilets. Women have come so very far since 1920! Thank you for honoring and dignifying women everywhere, but particularly those who are fortunate enough to grace your cover.

And, needless to say, your stunning cover makes me want to never miss an episode of Glee; I'm not quite sure what I was thinking. I'm obviously missing out on some high quality, thought provoking television. Oh, wait. I don't have TV anymore. My bad.

All in all, I have absolutely no interest in your magazine. It's a rag, a rag that isn't even really about music anymore. I'm sure someone else will gladly pay $19.95 per year for your amazing commentaries and inspiring pictures, but that someone isn't me.

Sincerely,
Nathalie

Can you listen to the whole thing?

Wow. Just wow. I'm speechless.


A Call to Anguish

Meet Carole Sue . . .

She's my best friend.

She's quite the nature photographer.

She has pretty good taste in music.

I can't really rock the floppy hat with anyone else like I can with Carole.

She has really, really nice hair that I'm envious of.

We sometimes take random roadtrips. To meet guys. Guys with names like "Pearl."

She rescued Mabel and gave me a most special gift by doing so.

We're ridiculous together.

We have pretty hilarious inside jokes. BTK, for instance.

I love her a lot.

Reminders never seem to fade away.

I heard this today on Air1. Definitely a song that Nora and Amar would have really liked.

I don't think they'll ever hear it.

I miss my girls. I miss my girls. I miss my girls.

Happy Easter

Prompted imagination.

My friend Krissy (here's her blog!) sent me a nifty little link to an Imagination Prompt Generator. I just thought I'd try it out. Some of the prompts are tired ideas, but this is one I'd yet to see. I thought I'd go ahead and do it:

 

My 10 Deepest Sorrows (in no particular order):

• not conceiving
• seeing my mom lost in alcoholism
• seeing my dad lost in racism
• the lie that is pornography
• losing Nora, Amar, and Gameela
• not saving my virginity when I had the opportunity
• the oppression and brutality in North Korea
• divisions in the Church
• the lost in Hollywood (i.e. the film industry)
• the death penalty

 

Well, that wasn't heavy at all.

DD = Doubly Drab

1. Forget button-down shirts. They won't work. You might, might have one or two that pass, but that's about it.

2. Forget about finding cute bras in all colors. Look forward to a drawer full of whites, beiges, and blacks. Oh, wait. When you're a DD, black is an exciting color! Who needs pink? Or stripes? Or patterns at all?

3. Forget about finding the right size at the store. You might find one. Maybe two. Most likely, though, you'll have to order them.

Can you tell what I had so much fun shopping for yesterday? Yay.

Nothing like a good parable, right?

At 12 a.m. last night, Mrs. M. was in bed. I started a load of laundry for her. I sat down on her loveseat and thought to myself, "Great. There's nothing else to do but...read the Bible." Hey, I'm just putting it out there as honestly as I can. I did bring it with me to work, but I truly did not want to read it. So, I sat down, opened it up to where I left off, and said, "God, I don't want to read this. I really don't feel like it."

After reading one chapter, I got nothin'.

Starting the next one, though, was different.

Bear with me. I'm copying and pasting it here not just so that others can see it, but also because it's easier for me to refer to it if I have it on the screen rather than, say, in my lap.

Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids

“Then the Kingdom of Heaven will be like ten bridesmaids who took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. 2Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. 3The five who were foolish didn’t take enough olive oil for their lamps, 4but the other five were wise enough to take along extra oil. 5When the bridegroom was delayed, they all became drowsy and fell asleep.

6“At midnight they were roused by the shout, ‘Look, the bridegroom is coming! Come out and meet him!’

7“All the bridesmaids got up and prepared their lamps. 8Then the five foolish ones asked the others, ‘Please give us some of your oil because our lamps are going out.’

9“But the others replied, ‘We don’t have enough for all of us. Go to a shop and buy some for yourselves.’

10“But while they were gone to buy oil, the bridegroom came. Then those who were ready went in with him to the marriage feast, and the door was locked. 11Later, when the other five bridesmaids returned, they stood outside, calling, ‘Lord! Lord! Open the door for us!’

12“But he called back, ‘Believe me, I don’t know you!’

13“So you, too, must keep watch! For you do not know the day or hour of my return."

Okay, so...I'm pretty familiar with this parable. Some of you might know it better as the Parable of the Ten Virgins. No matter. What new could I possibly find here, right? Five were prepared; five weren't. That's pretty simple. Straightforward. Couldn't possibly be more to it.

See, here's where my mind starts to play games with me. I sat there, after journaling, thinking to myself that I just read way too much into this passage of Scripture that I just read. I was certain that I was being too...oh, I don't know...figurative? Symbolic? Complex?

Maybe I was. Maybe I'm totally off. Maybe I did read way too much into it. I'll share anyway, though, because it seems to have stayed on my mind all day.

The first thing that stood out to me was the amount of oil that each five had and why. Not only did the five Girl Scout bridesmaids have enough oil, they brought extra. Why? Why would they think to bring extra? It seems to me that they were willing to wait as long as it took for the bridegroom. Whatever it was going to take, they were willing. They were ready.

And then we have the five Slacker bridesmaids (i.e. me and maybe you?). Not only did they not bring any extra oil, they didn't even have enough to fill their lamps to begin with. They weren't even prepared to meet an immediate need. They shouldn't have even left. It's like they didn't think they'd really have to use their lamps at all. Maybe they weren't even expecting the bridegroom to come. Or perhaps they just thought it would be easier to coast off someone else's back like they'd been doing all their lives. Maybe they thought the bridegroom himself would get them all set when he came.

Notice that all ten bridesmaids, the Girls Scouts and the Slackers, fell asleep. The Girls Scouts weren't perfect, just prepared.

I can't help but think about what my expectations are of God in my life. Just going by my behavior and knowing my inner thoughts, I sure don't expect much. I don't. I don't expect God to heal or bring together or change circumstances or reward or help or anything, really. Sad, isn't it? The funny thing is that I can believe this for others but not necessarily myself. Well, if I can't believe it for myself, then what good is my "belief" for someone else? What a joke.

Driving on highway 301 earlier this afternoon with my iPod on shuffle, Chris Quilala's "Your Love is Everything" came on. I skipped it. I went back. I skipped it. Nope, go back. One of the lyrics says, "And I will not forget/that nothing is impossible."

What do I believe isn't impossible? I know in my mind that God can enable me to get pregnant. I can reason that in my mind. Sometimes, though, no matter how good something is and how many people try to encourage you about what God's will is and how He grants the desires of our hearts (see Psalm 37:4), God doesn't always do what we think He would do. What if the "impossible" thing God wants to do in my heart is to give me peace about never having "natural" children? What if the "impossible" thing God wants to do in my heart is my acceptance, even my embrace of the truth that He is literally enough, no matter what He decides to give or take away?

I have to stop and think about that for a while. I'll tell you one thing: I do not have enough oil as of right now to be excited about this revelation (if that's even what I should call it). Reading about it, acknowledging it, and even meditating on it is a start, I guess.

I just want to be better.

Gerry is home safe and sound from Boston. No planes nosediving out of the sky. Always a good thing.

The pizza (half pepperoni, half spinach & mushroom) has been eaten. Our tummies are full. Another good thing.

I will be leaving for work in an hour. God keeps providing financially. Can't be anything but good!

I am feeling blah and don't particularly want to go to work. I would really like to sleep in my own bed tonight. I know it is completely and understandably natural to feel this way. The reality is, though, that someone's husband isn't coming home tonight. Someone is hungry tonight. Someone doesn't have a job tonight. Someone doesn't have a bed to sleep in tonight.

These are important things. These are things worthy to be mentioned with a good degree of concern. Not my complancency or my "normality" for feeling the way that I do.

"Normal" may have served its purpose, but really...I'm tired of it. I would like to get beyond "normal" for once. I'd like to actually live above day in and day out blah.

I don't want or expect perfection. I just want to be better.

Insert creative title here

So, here I am beginning yet another blog. I'm not even sure why this blogging desire creeps up every now and then when I know very well that the odds predict I will more than likely abandon it after a few posts. We'll see. And then there's that whole come-up-with-a-snazzy-blog-title thing that drives me crazy. Once you've named umpteen blogs (that you never kept up with), the creative well begins to dry up just a bit.

Esse quam videri. Latin (obviously). Classic. It means "to be rather than to seem to be." Also, nicely enough, it's North Carolina's state motto. Fitting for me, I guess. I am at a sort of crossroads in my life, I think. What a cliché, but it is what it is, and I can't figure out what else to call it. I don't know if you (if there's even a "you" reading this) have ever reached a point where you feel so jumbled up and so...chaotic inside that you feel like it's going to burst forth into a HUGE mess that you just won't have the energy to clean up, but I'm there. I am there. I think I've spent the better part of my life searching for a way to put order to my inside self, but I don't think I can. What am I to do with this mess that's me? The only thing I know to do is to write.

I don't care if anyone ever reads this. I just need to...process. Or attempt to process, anyway.

I have even wondered, even recently, if there's something wrong with me. I don't know if there is or not. I'm inclined to believe that, at the end of the day, the only thing wrong with me is me.

Gerry will be home from Boston in about an hour. It was nice having the bed to myself, but I've missed him. I will readily admit that I can entertain thoughts that are a bit on the morbid side, and I've wondered how I would handle him dying in a plane crash. Oddly enough, I haven't been in fear about it. I haven't really worried about it. It's just a curious thought I've had since he got on the plane on Thursday. I don't know what I would do. I guess I'd just go on living. Then I think to myself about all the times we've said goodbye to each other......going to the store, leaving for work, whatever. And I think about how not one single goodbye would be adequate if something did happen to him. Then I think about all the times when I don't say "I love you" just out of some stupid, spiteful reason. I know we hear all the time about telling your loved ones that you love them, to always be sure there aren't things left unsaid. We can all agree on that, I think. "Yeah, that's right. You never know when your last moment will be." You see in movies all the time some woman sobbing, "But I didn't get to tell him how much I love him..." And then I think to myself, "What is it going to take for me to get to the point where I really get this?" I want to move from point A (knowing cerebrally what I need to say and do) to point B (actually saying and doing it because it's within my heart to do so). Surely there is someone out there who has arrived at point B. I'm just not there yet, but I want to be. I really do.

In a few minutes, I'm going to order a pizza so that I can pick it up on my way to get Gerry at the airport. And you know what? It's not because I know Gerry likes pizza. It's honestly because I'm too lazy to cook supper. I do not want to. Here I am, just talking about getting from one point to another, but I will not resolve to make supper for my husband who's been gone all weekend because I just don't feel like it.

I can't imagine anyone thinking that I'm anything but a "good wife." Bless his sweet heart, even Gerry would insist I'm a "great wife." The truth is that I am not. I'm not. I am not a great wife. I am not a good wife. I'm not even really an average wife. I'm a selfish wife. I'm a lazy wife. I'm a wife who puts herself first. I'm sure I seem otherwise. Hence the super-creative title of this blog. I don't want to seem like anything anymore. I want to be those things.

But, you know what? I'm still going to order a pizza.