I do not want to talk about this photo, but it’s important.

Or at least, the experience that transpired moments after I took the photo.

But it’s embarrassing – and worse, limiting.

I’m not inclined to limit my life. If God wants to limit me, so be it, but when I do it to myself, it’s unacceptable and downright idiotic…sinful, even.

Who am I to put myself in a position where I cannot enjoy the life He gave me to its fullest?

Who am I to place limitations on what I can do so that it robs me of momentary delights but worse, could steal His glory if I continue down this path?

Who am I to apply any allowance for my pride so that I withhold the truth?

I can’t even write these days because to me, writing is about transparency, and I’m hiding.

Yes, hiding.

I’m supposed to be faithsizing, but instead, I’m hiding – tucking away the emotional, mental and physical hurt.

Didn’t I know the moment I prayed “Lord, please show me how to obediently and faithfully align my position and purpose before You.” that, in my next breath, things would begin to crumble?

And life would become undeniably more complicated for the requested sanctification to begin?

It is as Meredith said to me the other day (following one frustration after another), “This must be because I’ve prayed for patience. Why is it so hard to learn patience?”

Because true learning is hard – a process.

And true change is even harder – a journey.

And consistency to stay the true path is the hardest of all – a lifetime.

BUT!

God is mighty, and He can manage anything and everything I face beautifully. I know this as fact. I also recognize that I play a part too. And I’m not playing to my full potential. I’ve given up in some areas of my life in the last year and today one of those areas cost me a moment of happiness. Many moments.

Today. Trying to get on this ride. I humiliated myself.

A sign read, “Due to the safety design of the restraint, guests with unique body proportions may not be able to ride.”

In laymen’s terms that meant, “If you’re too fat, the constraint won’t lock, and we’ll have to ask you to get off.”

I was too fat, and the safety restraint would not completely lock over my chest. So, the attendant walked back to her control board, unlocked all the other riders’ overhead constraints just so that I could get out of mine.

And leave.
The platform.
In front of everyone.

Did I cover my disgrace well enough for the kids around me not to be uncomfortable? Absolutely. And I needed to because the day wasn’t about me. It was about the Youth in our church who managed to complete several challenges put to them last year.

I smiled. Said some comment about cutting back on chips & queso, and played it off.

Inside? I died, which is appropriate when I think about it because what I’m doing to myself is killing me. Ironically, the rollercoaster of weight loss and gain is the only consistent pattern I’ve maintained my entire life.

Failure is my pattern.

It certainly isn’t faithsizing.

It isn’t living either.

It’s surviving.

And I’m tired of just surviving. I wasn’t created to survive but to thrive in the light of the amazing Lord Jesus I serve.

So, I’m going to start talking about all of this – bit by bit – on Mondays. I can’t handle more than once a week, and I know most of you understand that because you have schedules to keep too. (For those of you checking your calendar, yes, I realize today is a Sunday. I’m a day ahead.)

And no, this isn’t all about weight loss or body image – because, as with many things in life, those things are only symptoms of a larger issue.

Right now, I need to find contentment in the midst of circumstances that are less than agreeable. I want to write truths as God reveals them to my heart and mind because obedience and faithfulness are important to me, but I’m struggling – just like many of you.

I told Jeff today that I wanted to change my hair.

That I feel lost, and I need to do something…anything, to gain a measure of control.

And that’s all fine and dandy, but it’s also only a Band-aid or a moment of happiness.

Happiness is fun, of course, but joy is what I seek.

The complete and abundant joy of the Lord who is my Strength and my Redeemer.

And that same Lord gave me the ability to write my way through rough times. Writing is a tool that, when used wisely, has served me well. If working through my personal faithsizing journey helps you work through yours? All the better.

Tomorrow marks our one-year anniversary in our lake cabin.

The more I think about this anniversary, the clearer I see that making our cabin into a home isn’t much different than any other faithsizing journey any of us are on.

At a glance, the cabin appears as though little has changed:

1. We still have not replaced the 60-year-old, single-paned windows that sweat or their sills that mold.
2. We still only have insulation and 1/8″ plywood stapled to framing for a ceiling.
3. We still have the same dark, wood plank walls that absorb all light that dares to try and enter the front room. And because the overhead electrical work is incomplete, we still function solely by lamplight when the sun goes down (or before it comes up).
4. We still need new sheetrock, texture and trim in the bathroom around the shower-tub inset, not to mention the incomplete trim work and lifting linoleum.
5. We still need to replace the preschool-sized toilet with its deep stains and seat held slightly askew by rusty bolts.
6. We still need to tear out the cracked floor tiles posing as kitchen countertops, along with all the crumbling grout around it.
7. We still need to patch the ridiculous number of gaping, unfixed holes we inherited in the cabin’s walls and closet ceilings.
8. We still need to look into different air conditioning options, but for now our front unit smells like a sour blend of old man’s armpits and gym socks when first turned on.

From the look of this list, which is just a smidgeon of the growing number of things needing work, it doesn’t feel we’ve come far.

If I focus ONLY on the above – what’s left to accomplish (the end goal), it might be difficult to get excited about our year anniversary.

It might be difficult to believe we will ever reach our goals with this place.

It might be difficult to understand why we made the choice to buy this cabin.

In fact, thinking about where we stand in light of where we hoped to be at this point, could easily open a door for discontentment.

And discontentment feeds into self-pity.

After self-pity, it’s all downhill.

And by downhill, I mean an avalanche of negativity.

So? I won’t do that. I refuse to feed the beast of discontent because I’ve seen what happens when I do. That gnarly creature grows at an escalating pace until it blocks all light and swallows joy whole.

This cabin? It will get there. With time, sweat, sacrifice, a few tears, and a healthy helping of toil, it will get there.

And when it does?

It will not be any more special than it is right now.

Yes, you read that right.

Will it be more valuable? In some people’s eyes, perhaps.

Will it be more effective and useful as a home and a place for friends and family to gather? Definitely.

But the reason this place means so much to me and my family has more to do with what it represents than what it looks like.

And that’s the crux of faithsizing.

The faithsizing mindset applies to many different areas of my life.

Last week, I shared an embarrassing experience about my current weight. If I allow myself to focus on the fact that I’m 43, and I’ve yet to reach my lifelong goal of sustained weight loss, what have I to gain (outside of more weight)?

Is my body a temple of God according to His Word? Yes.

Should I work on it, trimming up here and balancing out there to the best of my ability? Yes.

Will it take time, sweat, sacrifice, a few tears, and a healthy helping of toil? Yes.

But here is the cool part. Am I any less special to God packing the extra weight?

No.

Will I be any more valuable when I lose weight? To some, yes. To others, no. It depends on the measure.

I believe each improvement to my health makes me more readily useful and effective for the work God has for me in His kingdom.

On the other hand, my value is intrinsic – infused into my life by the Creator. No one but Him gets to put a sticker on my worth.

GLORY HALLELUJAH I am not measured by what I look like, but by who I am in Christ.

I am a daughter of the Lord God.

I am heir to the King.

I am loved.

By the way, you are too.

I’ve been singing You’re a Good, Good Father by Housefires II all week. The chorus makes me weep with joy for its simplicity and truth.

CHORUS:
You’re a good, good Father.
It’s who You are.
It’s who You are.
It’s who You are.

And I’m loved by You.
It’s who I am.
It’s who I am.
It’s who I am.

If you were to look at me today, it would not appear as though much has changed – definitely not in the last week or maybe even, the last year.

But it has.

It’s just in areas no one sees. My heart and habits are getting as thorough a makeover as my home, and I will continue working on those areas because…sanctification.

Now I believe God is gently and patiently calling me to work on the outward appearance too, and I’m ready.

It’s a slow and steady process, and I refuse to give in to discontentment. I want to align my life.

He will walk with me – one step at a time.
One day, week and month at a time.

For I am His
And He is mine.

“The Lord searches all the earth for people who have given themselves completely to Him. He wants to make them strong.” 2 Chronicles 16:9

Jeff and I married just a few weeks after he received his undergraduate degree. We knew his desired career required graduate work and licensing to get anywhere. So, the day after we married, we loaded our wedding gifts in our car and headed to Abilene where he hoped for acceptance in the Master’s Marriage and Family Program at Hardin-Simmons University.

The duplex we rented a few weeks before was paid ahead one month. We had $400 in our checking account, and Jeff had a part-time job lined up. Everything else was up in the air.

People said, “You two are brave.” And then came the rest, “but, I could never…”

Three years later, Jeff received his Master’s degree, and we were living in Kerrville, TX with our family’s newest member, Emelie. Jeff and I both worked full-time, and every morning we left Emelie with Grandma Charlene, an amazing home care provider we adored.

Before long, Meredith was born, and we quickly learned she was allergic to the chemicals in disposable diapers. So, we cloth diapered her. Mind you, this was when the modern cloth diaper movement made our decision a cinch.

Still, when people saw Meredith in cloth diapers (and two years later, Kenny), they affirmed our choice, “You are brave.” And then came the rest, “BUT, I could never…”

By the time Meredith was 6-months and Emelie was almost 4, Jeff’s undergraduate and graduate loans and our consumer debt (from foolish choices we made), became too much of an issue to ignore any longer. We sold our home, moved the girls and me into a one-bedroom apartment in town, and Jeff enlisted in the Army. He would serve for four years as an enlisted soldier in exchange for nearly $40k of student loans.

As the day of his leave approached friends and family said, “You are brave.” And then came the rest, “BUT I could never…”

Jeff’s Basic Training was delayed, his Advanced Infantry Training was twice as long as we had anticipated, and the only thing in the world I wanted was to get closer to him. So, the girls and I drove to Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio, TX – where Jeff would soon arrive and live in the barracks for the duration of his training.

I found and rented an apartment as close to Post as I could get before driving back to pack up all our belongings. Admittedly, it was in a not-so-great part of town, as evidenced by the helicopters regularly combing the complex with their bright searchlights. But, I didn’t care because I knew we would be closer to Jeff.

At that time, Emelie was about to turn 4, I was in the process of scheduling Meredith’s first eye surgery (Exotropia), and I missed Jeff terribly.

As our friends from Kerrville helped move me and the girls into that more-than-a-little-bit-questionable apartment complex, a few of the girls said, “You are brave.” And then came the rest, “BUT I could never…”

In 2001, Jeff graduated from AIT with Honors and received his station at Ft. Gordon outside of Augusta, Georgia. Emelie had her 5th birthday, Meredith underwent her second eye surgery, and we settled into a rental home owned by a member of the church we joined.

Not too long after that, Emelie began hating school and had screaming nightmares and other setbacks. When we finally realized the problem was the manner the teacher disciplined her class, we tried to move Emelie to a different teacher. When that didn’t work, we made the choice to homeschool. It was the hardest choice, but it was the best choice for her.

When we told our choice to friends and family, they said, “You are brave.” And then came the rest, “BUT I could never…”

I can name a dozen other instances, including buying this teensy lake cabin, where we made choices that led people to say…

“You are brave.”
“BUT I could never…”

And I began to realize, I don’t believe it.
Not a word.
The entire phrasing is not even truthful.

The truthful phrasing would look like this:

“You are brave (maybe).”
“BUT I would never…”

Because the word “could” is a form of the word “can” – meaning “I can never…”

And trust me, you most certainly CAN do anything we did.

Most of the time it isn’t about whether you (or I) CAN or not. It’s about whether you (or I) “would” – a form of the word “will”, meaning “I WILL never…”

The hard things our family chose to do over the years – the things we still choose to do – anyone can do.

It is simply a choice.

We are not brave. We are action-oriented.

If you want a simpler lifestyle, you CAN do it, but only when you decide you WILL.

If you want to get out of debt, you CAN do it, but only when you decide you WILL.

If you want to lose weight, you CAN do it, but only when you decide you WILL.

If you want to homeschool your children, you CAN do it, but only when you decide you WILL.

If you want to heal your marriage, you CAN do it, but only when you decide you WILL.

If you want to seek forgiveness from someone you hurt, you CAN do it, but only when you decide you WILL.

If you want to develop a deeper relationship with the Lord, you CAN do it, but only when you decide you WILL.

There is no such thing as “I could never…”
There is only “I would never…”

What are you lying to yourself about today?

Stop lying.

Grab hold of the One who gives you all the strength so you can turn your “I could never…” into an “I will always.”

Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.
He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.
(Isaiah 40: 28-31)

Until next week…
Love y’all.

Jeff and I had a short, semi-loud fight Tuesday night. Over ink. For the printer. But of course, it wasn’t about that.

It was about pride.
Fights are usually about pride, aren’t they?

I won’t go into details about the fight because as I said, it was short-lived and ridiculous. But at the end of it, Jeff curtly told me to stop being dramatic, which (of course) hurt my feelings.

In our family, calling someone dramatic is one of the biggest insults you can give. It gets all our attention, quickly.

And just in case you think I didn’t deserve it – that Jeff was being a jerk – I did, and he wasn’t.
But regardless, his words shut me down.
My feelings were hurt.
Immediately.

Working to avoid saying something (who am I kidding – saying several things) I’d regret later, I walked to the back of the cabin to sort laundry. Alone with my thoughts, and making sure not to knock the proverbial chip off my shoulder, I gave in to my swelling heart and misdirected passion, and silently, the tears fell.

Later in the week, Jeff and I were sitting and chatting at the kitchen table when I shared with him another entirely separate exchange (with someone else) that hurt my feelings.

(I have a lot of feelings, people.)

Jeff knows that a goal of mine over the past several years has been to gain tighter control over my feelings, which to some extent, I have. Or rather, I’ve learned to act, not react.

But the one thing I cannot get a handle on – something I have not been able to change about myself – is my immediate response when my feelings get hurt, which is crying.

Not the ugly cry, but tears…rolling down my face.

No matter how I try, I rarely escape it. It happens instantly. And it’s terribly embarrassing at times – especially since most things are not even important enough to mandate tears.

I cry or hold back tears all the time now. It’s ludicrous.

Jeff’s response was eye-opening for me. And I don’t know why that still surprises me because the man has an amazing amount of insight.

He asked: “So, it’s a release of what’s already there?”

And I cried.

No, not really.

But I was holding back tears because what he said touched a chord in my heart, and I knew it to be true. And when you’re praying that God will walk you through each day and show you His Truth, you need to receive it well when He delivers it. Yes, even when – especially when – The Lord speaks directly through the mouth of your spouse.

It was a lot to consider.

If my immediate “go to” response is hurt, I must consider that the hurt doesn’t necessarily come from that particular person or circumstance. That the hurt may stem from the myriad of things I’m holding inside – things that I’ve not dealt with or haven’t given myself permission to release.

That immediate hurt and the tears that follow may be a simple release valve for the pressure building up inside me.

And that makes sense.

Think about it. How else do you explain why some songs, quotes or movies that are completely unrelated to you make you weep, immediately?

Can you help or hold back the surge of emotion that you feel? Do you think about it or is it just there – an overflow?

So, if I’m holding something in, or I haven’t processed something, I have to ask myself if I am avoiding a hard thing.

And if so, what is that hard thing?
Do I even know?

Maybe it’s a disappointment?
Or an unmet expectation?
Perhaps it’s unforgiveness?

But here’s the most powerful question that flowed through that mental river of thoughts.

If all that muck resides in me, how can I live in contentment?

I mean, if I have to guard myself against bursting forth in tears, how can I embrace the gift of joy?

How can I be happy in the here and now with what the Lord has given me?

Jeff’s response?

“Scheduled maintenance.”

He coupled it with a few analogies (because he is the king of analogies).

One of them was a car. If you do not regularly schedule maintenance, the car will only take you so far before major issues crop up, and you can’t drive it at all.

But, if you take care to wash it, get the oil changed, check your fluids, belts, replace windshield wipers, watch the pressure in your tires – getting new ones when needed – your vehicle will function its best.

We all need scheduled maintenance to thrive, and for me, that means asking God daily to search my heart and mind for those lingering thoughts and hurts.

Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Psalm 139:23

Otherwise, I’ll break down on my faithsizing highway before I reach the place of complete peace and contentment. And, I’ve already been on the shoulder of that road my fair share of times. It is exceptionally congested, what with all the other cars there.

I know I will still cry because my tears are not just for times when I feel hurt but also for just about every other emotion in my playbook.

I cry during praise and worship at church. The words wash over me and through me, and I experience His joy, turn over my grief and recognize my desperate longing for the Lord (hence, the reason I always carry a handkerchief).

I cry when people give me unexpected gifts, a sweet note, card, email, or even when I write posts like this one.

I cry in the morning when it is just me, Jesus, my prayer journal and my Bible. I cry over answered prayers, my repeated failures, hurt in the lives of others, and when He gives me a Word so near and dear that it speaks straight to my heart.

But those aren’t the kind of tears that concern me.

I’m talking about the tears that come from my hurts wrapped up in self-pity, which tie directly into my pride because HOW DARE ANYONE DO [fill in the blank] TO ME?

And when I detect those little emotional time bombs in my heart and mind, I must recognize them for what they are. Then, realize that if I don’t tend to them, they will detonate when I least expect it, destroying my joy and perhaps taking down others around me.

Like my husband or the kids.
Over printer ink.

There is freedom in Christ but that freedom requires scheduled maintenance and daily surrender.

Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. James 4:7 (ESV)

One of the things I most cherish about writing this weekly post is watching how it unfolds throughout the week. As soon as Monday’s post publishes, I begin asking the Lord for the following Monday’s post.

I trust Him wholeheartedly, and so I know when He gives me a word to write it isn’t just for me, but also for you; it’s just how He works.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”
Romans 8:28 (NIV)

And each time our Sovereign God allows me to be a writing vessel for His love – be it encouragement or discipline (or as is often the case with me – both), I stand amazed.

In my prayer journal on Thursday, I wrote:

“Lord, please give me a post for Monday. Something that glorifies You and touches readers. I’m waiting. I’m listening.”

And yet even yesterday, Sunday morning, I still did not know what I would write for today.

I stayed home from church because I felt under the weather. Or more specifically, Kenny generously passed me his cold.

So, while Jeff loaded up the kids and set off for our church, I loaded up my mug, Bible and prayer journal and met with Jesus on the back deck.

And as I reread the passage for Week 1 of my church’s Fall Ladies Bible Study, the framework for today’s post fell into place.

Which is to say, God told me a little something about myself, and because of how I see Him working, I imagine there is someone reading who needs to hear this too.

I journaled a bit of it, knowing I wanted to talk through my thoughts with Jeff before writing, but first – a nap (more evidence of Kenny’s cold taking my body by storm).

Five hours later, I woke up, read through and discussed my notes with Jeff – jotted down his feedback – and here is where I’ll start:

I have spent a lifetime trying to satisfy unquenchable thirst with nearly anything but the Living Water.

“…but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”
John 4:14 (ESV)

Even though I am a Christian…

Even though I know Jesus is my Redeemer…

Even though I can do nothing by my own strength…

And even though I know God placed a void in me that He alone can fill, I still play the card of the foolish and look for substitutes.

For instance…

Feeling insecure with how I look?

I SHOULD: Stop, thank the Lord for His love for me, embrace my place as His child and seek value in Him, not man.

INSTEAD: I cry. Then, I go shopping – a sweet new pair of shoes and a beautiful new blouse will help me feel less frumpy. Right?

Feeling stressed by the difficulty of balancing homeschooling and family life with my relatively new job?

I SHOULD: Stop, thank the Lord for His provision, and ask Him to show me how to move forward – maybe even seeking a new direction.

INSTEAD: I cry. I work longer hours – into the evening – to make up for what I can’t do in the day, tilting the scale of mine and my family’s life more and more off balance.

Feeling overwhelmed by the constant barrage of needs that rob our financial ability to move forward working on this cabin?

I SHOULD: Stop, thank the Lord for the fact He helped us purchase this lake cabin in the first place. Trust that surely the presence of the Lord is in this place.

INSTEAD: I cry. Allow for discontent and compare our situation to others. And, before I began making wiser food choices, I’d try to meet that unquenchable void with a pint of Haagen Daz’s Peanut Butter and Chocolate or open a bottle of wine. You know, to take the edge off.

I know the only Truth that can comfort me. It fills the deepest wells of my heart – the Living Water, who is Jesus.

Not food.

Not drink.

Not shopping.

Not exercise (Ummm…I’ve not given this one much of a try).

Not play or entertainment.

Not sex.

Not work.

NOTHING.

Even with the fullness of that understanding – I forget myself. I join the masses, trying to fill the God-ordained void in my life with everything but Him.

The trend to downsize and simplify is more evidence that our nation is “thirsty” for the Father.

Everywhere I look – in books, media, and just driving down the Interstate, people are deciding to downsize and simplify their lives.

Sometimes this means moving into small lake cabins (like us), or building a tiny house, getting off the grid, and working toward sustainable living.

On the surface, I like this new movement.

Except vegetable gardening (sustainable living). Holy mother of all things manure, gardening in a drought is a nightmare – an expensive nightmare. I’ve put up my gardening gloves for now and surrendered to the Kroger produce department.

I’ve never cared much for clutter or “stuff” in the physical sense, so this downsizing trend is right up my ally.

BUT…

I also think it is a benchmark of our nation’s desperation. We are living in a heavily materialistic, consumer-oriented and entertainment-driven world. People are swimming in a pool of chaos (often of their own making), clinging to a false belief that if they just “downsize” – they will quench their thirst indefinitely.

They won’t.

Jeff, the kids and I sold or gave away a good amount of what we owned to faithsize our lives, but we know that won’t quench our thirst. Only Jesus can do that.

I may pretend that getting gutters or having overhead lighting will bring me joy, but I know the truth.

And as Jeff pointed out when I read my notes to him, the focus is still on “things” – just from the flipside.

For instance, the thought that “If I don’t have cable, I will have more time to [fill in the blank] and feel more fulfilled.”

You will have more time. TV is the ultimate time waster, BUT the focus is still on “things” (not having cable) and not upon the Father (the Living Water, who quenches our thirst).

And by the way, if you are thinking that way, we don’t have cable. For us, it is about saving money, and it works to that end – but it certainly does not bring us any measure of joy or ensure our daily peace.

Faithsizing vs. Downsizing

The process of downsizing one’s life can be healthy and freeing in many ways. Downsizing gives you an opportunity to assess what you do and don’t need – be it stuff, responsibilities, and even, relationships.

It’s like decluttering life, and I see nothing wrong with it unless you falsely believe that it alone will help you find peace.

Faithsizing, however, can help you find peace because it deliberately directs you to the Lord.

Remember, that faithsizing simply means “obediently and faithfully aligning one’s position and purpose before the Lord.”

So, when you choose Living Water to quench your thirst:

1. You recognize there is a void created by the Father Himself. That He placed it in you so you would seek Him above all else.

2. You recognize that no object, experience or relationship can fill that void.

3. You recognize that your worst habits – the ones that rob you of your joy come directly from the unconfessed, repeated actions you hope will quench a thirst only the Lord can fill.

Jeff describes #3 as those things you do that “scratch the itch for just a second.”

I agree.

He believes we return to those old habits because “We are lazy – we’re like water that travels the path of least resistance. We prefer the shortest distance between two points, a straight line.”

In other words, we go straight to the habit to get the short-lived relief simply because it’s more immediate, even if unfulfilling.

We get a sip.
A taste.

But it isn’t the Living Water.
So, we keep searching.
Because without Him, we remain unquenchable.

“Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’””
John 7:38 (ESV)

On Saturday, our town held its 41st Annual Fair on the Square. This year I went with my momma, who I knew would enjoy strolling up and down the streets looking at the various vendors’ booths as much as me.

While we walked, we came across Junktion Alley, a booth with creative displays and unique jewelry.

But the jewelry isn’t what initially caught my attention.

It was the mannequin.

(Or perhaps when it’s only the head and shoulders, it’s called a ‘bust?’)

Eyes closed, head thrown back, and mouth wide in laughter, I cannot help but smile when I look at her. I want this exact girl for my home to remind me of the passage from Proverbs 31:25-26 (NIV):

She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.

I do not believe the Proverbs 31 woman laughs because she has it all figured out (Although to briefly skim the chapter, she initially appears to be a superwoman.)

She laughs because she is at peace.

She’s at peace because she fears the Lord. She recognizes He is sovereign and trusts Him to meet her needs.

Yes, she does all she can; she’s certainly not lazy. But when the day comes to an end, in her wisdom, she lays her anxiety at His feet and rests in Him.

Oh, how I want to do that better; so much better than I do.

Because I DO trust Him, even when I doubt myself.

Because I DO love Him, even when I fail to love others.

Because I DO want to experience the fullness of His joy, even when my burdens feel heavy.

Lord, show me how to clothe myself with your strength and dignity, so I can have the peace to laugh at the days to come.

When I sat down to write this post, I thought I knew what I was writing.

I was wrong.

Which is fine, of course, except it is Sunday evening, and what I realize I need to write about is uncomfortable, if not slightly embarrassing.

So, here it is: I’m struggling to find my purpose for writing. And I think (I’m still working this out with the Lord) at my very core, I fear I’m losing my voice and that I’ll be forgotten.

For SEVEN years, I wrote about Homeschooling on The Pioneer Woman’s blog, a blog with millions of readers – readers who watched, read, commented and supported our family’s homeschooling choice.

It was a great adventure.

I knew my mission.

I knew my voice.

My writing purpose was clear.

And then, it wasn’t.

The Pioneer Woman’s blog recently shifted its design and focus, which I believe makes sense for Ree’s brand (so please don’t read me saying otherwise). She archived the Homeschooling section, along with a couple of the other sections, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that this shift shook my world.

Was I ready to move on and write about something other than Homeschooling?

Yes…

and, no.

Yes, because I now have one high school graduate, one high school sophomore, and one eighth-grader. The two still in school are resourceful learners and need me much less. By default, I was no longer in the same place as many of my readers who were just starting to homeschool. I guess I had started to outgrow the topic.

No, because I had not – have not – worked out exactly what my purpose for writing is now.

And by exactly, I mean have no clue.

Yes, I did find a full-time job – and for that I’m thankful. It’s different than how I’ve worked for the past fifteen years, though. It has been an enormous adjustment. Nothing there is personal; it’s the opposite. There, my “purpose” and “voice” are assigned weekly based on the company goals – that’s just the nature of the work.

And before I go too much farther, I don’t want you to think I’m struggling to find my value or worth.

That’s entirely different, and I’m not.

I know who I am. I am a lover of Christ Jesus, and by His grace, I’m completely secure and at peace with my value and worth as HIS child.

What I fear is not understanding the “What now?”

What I fear is not having a voice after years of having a voice.

What I fear is getting lost in the vastness of the internet and being forgotten.

They are valid fears. Prideful, probably. Self-centered, likely. But hey, that’s why I started this post by admitting this is an uncomfortable topic and embarrassing.

Every day, I ask for direction in my prayer journal.

I ask for the “What now?” I mentioned earlier.

It’s not clear yet.

In my Ladies Bible Study at church, we’re working through Sheila Walsh’s “The Storm Inside.” In this week’s lesson, we delve into the few glimpses the Bible gives us about Mary Magdelene, a woman who faithfully followed Jesus after He saved her from demon possession (Luke 8:1-3).

One of the lesson questions asked, “In your own life, what do you need to leave behind to Jesus’ healing touch in order to step forward in bold faith?”

I’m working on that question now because I’ll tell you one thing; I do not want anything to hold me back from stepping forward in bold faith.

What about you?

It’s a personal question, I know. But I promise you if you write your answer to that question in the comments, or send it to me via email, I will pray for you.

I’ll write a prayer just for you in my prayer journal – lifting your name up to the One who casts out all fears and heals all wounds. It’s the most powerful way I’ve learned to pray yet.

And I’d love it if you’d pray for me too.

Because I want to leave behind my fear, trusting He will answer in His perfect timing. And specifically, that whatever the answers are, I can rest in them – praising Him and singing, it is well with my soul.

Blessings, y’all.

I plan to write two posts this week (an update on the lake house will follow on Wednesday) because I could not move forward without thanking each of you who commented or emailed following last week’s post, “What do you need to leave behind?”

Not only was I encouraged by your loving words and often, hard-earned wisdom but then, several of you chose to trust me with deep heartfelt, personal prayers.

Thank you for your vulnerability.

I was humbled and honored to pray for you.

And I did write individual prayers for each request – one prayer after the other – filling the remaining pages of one journal and cracking a new one as more of your prayers rolled in.

As I prayed for you…

As I prayed for you, the carefully written and meaningful words you posted to convey your hearts resonated with mine.

As I prayed for you, I visualized each situation and tried to be as specific as possible while making sure not to tell God how to manage His best for you.

As I prayed for you, I felt a great release – an unpacking of the burden I had so firmly strapped to my back.

Finally, as I prayed for you, the Lord began to reveal to me that my “What now?” was not an entirely innocent question after all.

It was as though I found a secret letter to God I tucked away; the one that spoke the truths in my heart, like:

“Surely, You have better plans for me than this.”

The next – be warned – was even worse:

“I’ve worked so hard. I’ve done the very best I know how to do, and it’s nothing to sneeze at; I deserve better than this.”

Realizing this, I cried. Buckets. My heart was not overflowing with love, joy and humility. Quite the contrary, it was filled with vile pride and selfish entitlement.

The words of Jeremiah 17:9 rang true: “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?” (ESV)

Here a few of the comments you posted that resonated most deeply with me in my struggle:

“So, I want to leave behind my assumptions about what my life would be like at this point. God has been leading me deeper in my understanding of who I am in Him and my prayer is that I will find perceptible fulfillment in my relationship with Him.” – Lisa

“Most of us have never had the opportunity to reach the amount of people you do, and touch them the way you do. All of us deal with growing older while the dynamics shift our value doesn’t – we just have to become more comfortable with it.” – Ann

“To me, finding your voice and thus your audience is not prideful or self-centered. It is a process of growth that God uniquely has granted to us humans…we should, however, always use it in prayerful consideration, which it seems you’re doing. Your life is going through some dramatic shifts. God doesn’t ask us to do non-scary things, right?” – tpcelt

“I need to let go, walk away from, stomp on, and pray about my need to be recognized. For 12 years I worked in my chosen career and quickly became recognized for my work; it was a source of pride, and I hung onto it after I quit my job…my pride is left wandering; and I’m sad and feel a lack of purpose, or should I say it, a lack of recognition.” – Kristy

I have been ridiculously and unrighteously prideful and angry, and this weekend I surrendered it to the Lord because He knows I deserve nothing apart from His grace, but He loves me and provides for me anyway.

I’ll end this post with one last comment, which is a prayer in and of itself.

“So, I leave it up to Him and will let Him decide where I am to go and if I remain hidden for the rest of my life. All I am is His servant, and He gets to decide.” – Beth

Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.

Without the opportunity to pray for all of you, it may have taken longer for me to see what I needed to leave behind.

Praise the Lord.
Let’s all walk more boldly in Him!

(Don’t forget to watch your inbox on Wednesday for a lake house update. If you aren’t subscribed to receive my posts via email, you can do so by clicking here. Don’t worry, I won’t spam you. It’s typically one email/post a week.)

I know, I know. I’m a day late. Actually, I’m an hour late because it was still Wednesday an hour ago. But hey, midweek posts are killer for me, especially if I have to edit photos and try not to get lost in possibilities on Pinterest.

As I’ve said before, September 8th marked one full year since our move into this lake house.

We have done a few things here and there as finances allowed. For instance, we leveled the floors so the back door could open more than 8 inches (big plus). It also alleviated the camel hump smack dab in the middle of the living room floor ($900).

With the advice of an electrician friend, Jeff installed electrical boxes and light fixtures on the exterior walls on the back deck. Up to that point, our set up was clip-on lights with extension cords snaking across the deck ($75).

We purchased a new air conditioning unit for the back of the house ($450).

And (more on this later) Jeff is almost finished building a bench/storage box to cover a sunken bricked-in planter to the right of my front door ($150). I wanted to paint ($35) it this weekend but it looks like it may rain.

As far as landscaping is concerned, we’ve had generous family members, neighbors and friends bring us plants, but we’ve purchased a few too. We also purchased rocks to fill the brick planters on the left of our front door ($45), sodded the front yard ($200) and various other odds and ends, including a small electrical pump to sparingly draw water from the lake to reduce our well-water usage ($50).

Bit by blessed bit, y’all.

But now, we are saving for a big ticket item.

The ceiling.

We have priced out all the materials (which we will purchase independently) and received a quote for the labor. The total cost will be $1550.00 (that does not include any painting).

The photo below is what our ceiling looks like now.

The previous owners did an incredible amount of structural work on the house, including strengthening ceiling supports (the ceiling was sagging), and double-insulating the ceiling, but they moved to a larger home before finishing this one out.

What you see on the exposed rafter is a strangely placed light fixture. I didn’t put it there, and it isn’t staying there.

The panels on the ceiling are called Luan, a hardwood 1/4-inch thick plywood panel.

And yes, it is pulling away in several places.

I tinkered with the idea of using the same Luan boards to fake plank the ceiling, but decided against it after looking through several online images of beadboard and planked ceilings.

I’m going to live in this house for the rest of my life, God willing, and I’d rather save for what I want than compromise.

The waiting is hard, though.

Source

I mean, JUST LOOK AT THAT CEILING!

Beautiful.

Source

Once we paint the dark paneled walls, ceiling and exposed rafters with a fresh, crisp shade of white, the main living area will be glorious. We will be swimming in light.

And by dropping a ceiling fan from the rafters, we’ll get greater circulation too.

Source

Anyone who has ever lived in East Texas knows how necessary ceiling fans are to our very existence through the summer months (which seem to span nine months of the year, in case you’re curious).

As much as I’m looking forward to the beadboard replacing the Luan boards, I do love our exposed rafters.

But the one negative aspect of how closely they are to the ceiling at its apex is that we have very little space to run additional wiring for overhead lighting or to the fan. There are only two layers of insulation separating the Luan from the hidden rafters.

To remedy that, we may experiment with securing a board (similar to the first image in this post) flat across the apex of the roof. We have a skilled carpenter who, I am sure, will have a few suggestions as well.

Source

Since the only possible overhead lighting will be on the fan, I’m also thinking about running something like the photo above along the bottom of every other exposed beam.

We have electrical boxes atop the beams in some places (the image above is in the kitchen area), so it’d be easy enough to manage (and then, paint those electrical boxes white). I don’t want to go ultra-modern though, so I haven’t made my mind up yet. I want this to FEEL like a cozy lake house.

Whatever we do, we will NOT use halogen lights. The previous owners dropped about 9 of those from the ceiling in the back of the house, and they are HOT!

So, here’s the reality check.

We can’t reasonably expect to save the cash for this project until after Christmas, but that’s just two months away (Aaaack!), and I know all too well how fast it will come and go.

I think the hardest part of our family’s faithsizing journey is the waiting.

Waiting. is. so. hard.

So, what do you think?

Any ideas or links of your own to share? Advice?

I’m really, really, really, rrrrrrreeeeeeaaaaaalllllyyyy excited about this, so be rrrrreeeeeaaaaallllllyyyy nice.

When we moved into this lake house, I made a decision to set aside my multitasking ways. Instead, I would focus on being intentional – being present – in whatever task I was doing at that moment.

Hahahahahahaha!
Bwahahaha!
Oh, bless me.

I should probably sit down before I reminisce next time.

You can probably ascertain that my worthy goal didn’t stick. Nope, not even for a week.

Some people (namely Jeff) think that multitasking is impossible.

It’s not. For some of us, it’s more like second nature.

Sure, I can cook sausage and eggs while simultaneously scheduling all the kids’ appointments for next week.

Yes, I can catch-up on emails while Jeff drives us to and from town for Wednesday night activities or Sunday morning church. That’s a 30-minute round trip after all!

And with that fancy dancy voice texting feature on my iPhone, I can fix my hair and put on makeup while catching up on any social media or texts.

Before you educate me on all the statistics that say otherwise, I know from personal experience (and from watching Jeff) that there is no way to get everything I get done in a day unless I multitask.

I’m not bragging.
I’ve lived this.

And if you’re the lady of the house, you may understand when I say no time is sacred or spared. I made a grocery list on the toilet yesterday for crying out loud. Also, I typically read and edit Meredith and Kenny’s weekly paragraphs and essays during my one-hour lunch breaks from work (yes, while eating).

Multitasking DOES save time. There’s no doubt about it. But if we’re all honest, I think we’d also recognize that we multitaskers only save time so we can fill it with more tasks, which isn’t saving time so much as it’s consuming time.

We steal our own time.

Not our husbands.
Not our kids.
Not our friends or outside commitments.

We.steal.our.own.time.

And we need to own up to that truth because:

1. We can’t keep up that pace. It’s grueling and leads to resentment and anger towards those who we think have it easier.
2. When we lie to ourselves about the little things, we’ll lie to ourselves about the big things.
3. Multitasking clutters the mind and shortchanges our thought processes.

So, today while I folded laundry on my bed, I made a choice to leave my phone in the other room on mute. I would not multitask.

I would fold clothes.

There were a few calls I needed to make, but I told myself it could wait.

I realized that most of all, I needed quiet, uninterrupted time to just “be.”

I tossed everything from the dryer onto the bed, which is easy when your bed is less than 2 feet away, and I began folding.

Occasionally, I’d catch myself not folding at all – just looking out the window at the lake, lost in my thoughts.

I thought about the swing I saw on Pinterest that I wanted Jeff to build for us. “Too easy,” he said. “We’ll grind that stump down. Clear up that area. Let the one oak grow and build a swing just like that facing the water.”

I thought about last night’s impromptu birthday dinner my parents put together for my uncle. How I was glad to arrive there early so I could visit with them both while helping Momma in the kitchen. And then, I was thankful for the turmeric pork chop leftover wrapped in foil in the fridge waiting for my lunch hour. Scrumptious.

I thought about the nip in the air and wondered when I should pull our down comforters out for the winter. I love the feeling of that extra weight when I crawl under the covers.

I thought about this blog and how much it means to me that I can write to you. And, because it’s Monday, I thought about the fact that I didn’t publish a post early this morning as I usually do.

It took longer than usual to fold the clothes, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t care. I felt at peace – alone with my thoughts, relaxed, and ready for the rest of the day.

All my life I’ve enjoyed clearing clutter.

It’s satisfying to put things where they belong and free-up space.

My mind is no different.
It needs space.
I bet yours does too.

This week, I encourage you to stop stealing from yourself – to stop multitasking every moment. Slow down, absorb the beauty around you, give thanks, and give yourself the opportunity to process your day, your life, and anything else in that noggin’ of yours.

I’m learning that if there is too much to accomplish in a single day – well, I’m failing to faithsize my life. And? I need to simplify and declutter.

So, tell me your experiences with multitasking – or better yet, if you’ve chosen to live with less brain clutter – how did you do it? Or, how are you doing it?

Did you need to rid yourself of some responsibilities? Have you decided a pristine home isn’t as necessary as you once believed? Have you cut back on your work hours? Get up earlier and take it slower?

Spill it.

I’m convinced we all have at least one golden nugget we can pass along to each other. What’s yours?

With the weekend came more rain, but I welcomed it because it solidified my decision to turn the lovely bolt of black and white ticking I bought last September into curtain panels for my bedroom.

If you look back to last week’s post, you’ll see a photo of the sheer curtains that I temporarily hung in our bedroom until I got around to sewing the curtains I planned to have there all along.

For the sake of honesty, temporarily = one year and one month.

The sheers now hang in Emelie’s little efficiency apartment where they serve the two-fold purpose of softening the light that glares through her mini-blinds while giving the illusion she has much larger windows than she has.

She is happy to have them.
I am happy we could pass them along.
But it also meant buckling down to the task of replacing them.

From the moment I thought of hanging curtains instead of doors (because doors would not fit if Jeff and I actually wanted a bed inside the closet we now happily call our room), I knew I wanted to sew them from ticking.

However, as many of you fully understand, knowing that you want to sew ticking curtain panels and planning a day to accomplish the feat are two entirely different scenarios.

To say I procrastinated is the understatement of the year (literally).

But Saturday morning, after an amazing Bible study (more on that in a minute), I began pulling out all the necessary equipment and accessories.

• Bolt of ticking – Check
• Ironing board and iron – Check
• Sewing machine, extension cord and pedal – Check
• Box of odds and ends (measuring tape, Fiskars, straight pins, sewing gauge, thread, etc.) – Check

I was ready.

Now, if my family would just wake up so I could begin!

Ah, the realities of a small house where waking up early to accomplish a task must be balanced with respecting the sleeping patterns of everyone else in the household.

As I waited, my dreams of starting to sew at 8:00 am quickly gave way to hopes of setting forth by noon.

There was nothing I could do but wait.

It didn’t take long to doubt my planning abilities; namely that I didn’t get everyone to bed much, much earlier the night before.

Trying to harness all my love and respect for Jeff and the kids by waiting patiently (and not slamming cabinets or bursting forth in my Sunday wake-up mantra, “Rise and shine, for the light has come!”), I chose to spend a luxurious amount of uninterrupted time with the Lord.

Because I couldn’t sew, Saturday morning became a medley of prayer journaling, working through the lessons in this week’s study of Ruth in my Ladies Bible Study group, and then, wrapping it all up with a Psalm.

Psalm 44, to be specific.

Written by the Sons of Korah, who also penned Psalm 46:10, “Be still, and know that I am God.”

It is worshipful.
It is honest.
It is painful.
It is relatable.

Psalm 44 felt like the cry of my heart.

The psalm opens with an acknowledgment of God’s power and sovereignty, and His great love for His people.

Recognizing their desperate need of Him in light of their very lives, the Sons of Korah gave God all glory, honor and praise:

“My God, you are my King.
Your commands led Jacob’s people to victory.
With your help we pushed back our enemies.
In your name we trampled those who came against us.
I don’t trust my bow to help me,
and my sword can’t save me.
You saved us from our foes,
and you made our enemies ashamed.
We will praise God every day;
we will praise your name forever.”
Psalm 44:4-8 (NCV)

And then, seemingly in their very next breath, they expressed the depths of their confusion, shame, anger, and suffering.

“But you have rejected us and shamed us. You don’t march with our armies anymore.
Psalm 44:9 (NCV)

“You let our enemies push us back, and those who hate us have taken our wealth.”
Psalm 44:10 (NCV)

“You made us a joke to our neighbors; those around us laugh and make fun of us.”
Psalm 44:13 (NCV)

And yet, despite their shame, which they boldly pinned on God Himself, they chose to remain faithful.

They chose to walk in obedience.

They did not turn away.

“All these things have happened to us,
but we have not forgotten you
or failed to keep our agreement with you.
Our hearts haven’t turned away from you,
and we haven’t stopped following you.
But you crushed us in this place where wild dogs live,
and you covered us with deep darkness.”
Psalm 44:17-19 (NCV)

They did not appear prideful or untoward because they fully recognized that God knew their hearts:

“If we had forgotten our God or lifted our hands in prayer to foreign gods, God would have known, because he knows what is in our hearts.“
Psalm 44:20-21 (NCV)

And so, they cried out in song.

They did what I’ve repeatedly done in my prayer journal as of late.

They cried out the same way all of us do – with finite minds – as beings who cannot grasp the wisdom of God.

Wake up, Lord! Why are you sleeping?
Get up! Don’t reject us forever.
Why do you hide from us?
Have you forgotten our pain and troubles?
We have been pushed down into the dirt;
we are flat on the ground.
Get up and help us.
Because of your love, save us.
Psalm 44:25-26 (NCV)

I read this passage at least four times.

And then, I wrote my own prayer of response in my margin:

Lord, I know you never leave your children. And yet, sometimes that’s exactly how I feel. I’m thankful for this honest song by the Sons of Korah.

You created me.

You know I am only human – that I cannot understand the mind of an Almighty, Sovereign God.

So?

I flail about. Ridiculously so, in your eyes, I’m sure.

I feel alone while I wait for your answers to my prayers. Help me to obey. Help me to believe. Yes, even when I cannot feel your presence. Even when I cannot hear your answers.”

I’ve flipped back to this passage multiple times in the last two days, and I had to share it with you because I stand amazed at God’s way of meshing the perfect passage with our personal life struggles.

He knows how I fight against doubt.

I need to trust. I need not to doubt in the darkness what I knew in the light or as Elizabeth Elliot wrote, “Do not dig up in faith what you planted in wisdom.”

In case you do not know the story of the Sons of Korah, I assure you they fully understood the consequences of going before the Lord with prideful and rebellious hearts.

That wasn’t what this was about…

I believe this Psalm was written and sung earnestly.
With their hearts poured out.
Bodies prostrate.
Desperate before the Father.

What does this have to do with sewing curtains?

Nothing

And?

Everything.

I wanted to get up and sew curtains on Saturday morning.

Everything was ready, but I still had to wait.

I didn’t want to wait.
I didn’t know how long the wait would be.
I was slightly irritated as the morning pressed on and I was the only one up.

But then, I dug into His Word, and He took that waiting and made it into something beautiful.

See, the beauty was in the waiting.

I have prayed morning after morning for the Lord to answer four very specific prayers for my family.

I have cried.
I have been angry.
I have fallen into fear.
I have felt separated from His love.
I have felt wrapped in His love.

The truth is, those are all emotions. He has never left me.
His answers will come in His perfect time.

The beauty is in the waiting.

And if you’re wondering if I ever finished the curtains; no, I didn’t. They are half done, and when I complete them, you’ll get a post with a full photo (or two).

I already love them though.

They are the exact look I wanted.

But! I will not finish them until next Saturday.

Which is fine.

Because I’m learning how to wait.

Now, if you’ve come this far…

I have a Beadboard Ceiling update.

Many of you requested (via the comments and in email) that I create a GoFundMe or provide a PayPal link so you could donate to our goal to save $1550 for our ceiling.

And I’ve been reticent to do so because I did not want to offend anyone nor appear as though we expect anyone to give anything. We don’t.

However, if you do desire to give, I’ve placed a GoFundMe widget in my right sidebar. You can click through it to contribute, or you can click here.

The GoFundMe seemed the most transparent way to manage contributions.

To say mine and Jeff’s bedroom is tiny is an understatement. It’s not tiny; it’s a closet. Literally.

And there is a reason we live in a closet. When we were making plans of how to divvy up our tiny lake house into a living (and sleeping) space for 4, it made more sense to shove us in the closet than the kids.

Plus, it gave the kids much more space, and trust me, they need it far more than we do.

There was an old woman who lived in a…closet

Just because I room in a closet doesn’t mean I want it to feel like a closet, so (to catch everyone up who may be new here) this is what we did in the two weeks previous to moving in:

1. Painted the ochre walls and shelving – inside and outside of the closets – as well as the dark brown trim, white.
2. Took down window treatments to let in the light.
3. Removed the bedroom and closet doors (5 total, if you can imagine that).
4. Gave away our king-sized bed and downsized to a queen-sized bed (Get a little closer to the one you love, right?).
5. Replaced the low hanging, dark brown ceiling fan with a white one that fit snuggly up against the ceiling.
6. Replaced all the switch plates.

Then, we moved in, and all attention to our bedroom stopped because we needed to take care of some big ticket items:

1. Felling a tree that leaned toward the house.
2. Leveling the house.
3. Surprise! Termites! And subsequent treatment.
4. Buying a couch (even though Jeff and Meredith wanted these).
5. Laying sod, which worked beautifully, and getting a handle on the landscaping (big and small) outside.

Which brings us to now, slightly more than a year later, wherein I finished sewing the ticking curtain panels I posted about last week.

And?

I love them.

Love, love, love them.

You know why?

They make my room feel like a room; like a living space I planned, as opposed to one where I just shoved in a bed and called it quits, which is pretty much what I did for a while.

Note, the sheer curtains did a little something to stave off the fact that our washer/dryer was less than an arm’s length away.

But the lack of doors on the closet was an eyesore. And though we did organize the closet to the hilt (the photo above was from the week we moved in), I still didn’t want to SEE it while lying in bed.

Now, in case it isn’t obvious just how small this closet room of ours is – let me help you out:

The room measures 84″ wide and 109″ long.

Our queen-sized bed is a standard 60″ wide and 80″ long.

Which means, there is only 12″ (as in, one foot) on either side of the bed, and only 30″ between the end of the bed and the closet.

Perhaps now it is abundantly clear why we had to remove the 4 closet doors and the bedroom door. Y’know, so we could get into the closets and still have room for a bed.

And before you even have to ask…

Yes, we did consider placing the bed left to right in the room, but we would not have access to the bottom two built-in shelves on the right wall. That would not work since we don’t have room for a dresser; we needed all that storage space for clothes.

After searching Google Images and Pinterest Boards, I came up with several inspiration photos for replacing doors with curtains.

Source: [1], [2 & 3], [4], [5], [6]

Then, I started sewing.

Well, not true. First, I measured. Then, I measured again. After that, I cut a trial panel and washed/dried/ironed and pinned it. Finally, I sewed the first curtain.

And I saw that it was good. heh heh

So, with that “test” panel out of the way, I decided to make 4 more companions for it.

Point of interest: I have polygamist curtains.

For the love of all things striped.

Can we all just stop and take a moment to celebrate the fabric we know as ticking. It is versatile, durable, and oh my goodness, I could get years of use out of this tote; although, my budget put its foot down as soon as it saw the price.

Back to the closet room.

Our room is simple. Understated. Peaceful.

Hahahahaha

I’m sorry. I thought I was writing an ad for Anthropologie there for a minute.

Seriously though, I love that the small space between our two windows is the perfect size for the mixed media piece Emelie created for me two years ago.

And our reading lights, of course.

One MUST read in bed.

Choosing to hang the curtains from the ceiling allowed us to get the curtains closer to the wall, taking up less overall space. It also gives us a bit more height.

The ceiling is a standard 8′ ceiling, but it looks so much taller with these vertical stripes. Plus, because you cannot see through the curtains (as you could with the sheers), nothing visually breaks up the vertical line from floor to ceiling.

I extended the curtains corner to corner, wall to wall, making an L-shape. This way, they close off our shelving, the washer/dryer closet, and our bedroom closet.

And now, when I lie in bed, I don’t see into my closet.

Which is WONDERFUL.

So, what’s next?

Eventually, I want to purchase a rug to cover most of the floor in the room. We want something soft to put our feet on when we crawl out of bed. BUT! That cost money, and right now I need to focus on what I have at hand, which is leftover fabric!

I still have 78″ (length) of 57″ (width) ticking on the roll. I’ve enough fabric for a dust ruffle for the bed, which would be nice since we currently have the bed on 6″ risers to provide additional storage (and those risers aren’t pretty).

I also have an antique lamp in the living room with a shade that is disintegrating. No seriously, it is.

We received the lamp as a wedding gift, and it is still lovely, but the shade has seen better days. I like the bones of the shade, so I’ve considered recovering it with some of the leftover ticking too.

Depending on how much the ticking shrinks, there is a slight chance I could do both.

What do you think?

Do you wonder why it took me so long to pull out the sewing machine and get after these curtains?

Do you think a ticking dust ruffle would be too much?

Is this making you think of your own projects you’ve left waiting at home?

Well, let me encourage you to GET ON THEM. I’m so thrilled that I finally completed my one of mine! I’ve been a sluggard far too long with this one; that’s for certain!

Thanks for reading and sharing in my delight!

Love y’all.

Blessings!

Hello, dear friends.

I say “friends” because I truly believe if you continue to read post after post that you are, in many respects, my friends. Perhaps even brothers and sisters in Christ.

I entrust you with bits of my heart each time I publish, and those of you who share in the comments or emails bless me in return with yours.

It is a relationship.
Built on a trust.
Founded on a promise.
I’m thankful for it.

I’m at a point where there is little reason to write if I cannot be transparent, which means I willingly put myself in a vulnerable place – a place where you can reject me or my words and wound my heart.

And I choose to do that.
Because as much as I love knowing you are here reading me, I’m not here, first and foremost, for you.

I’m here to write about my conviction to obediently and faithfully align my position and purpose before the Lord.

I cannot do that if I am unwilling to surrender.

Surrender my pride.
Surrender my desire to be liked.
Surrender my hope for success.
Surrender my fear.
Surrender.
All.

November 26th I began a short Bible study on surrender using Nancy Leigh DeMoss’s book, Surrender: The Heart God Controls.

I opened the study in my prayer journal with this entry:

“Lord, I know there are areas of my life I need to surrender fully. I ask You to open my eyes to them. Let me see them so that I can name/identify every last one. I do not want to live in disobedience or denial, nor do I want to be ignorant.

I love You.

I want to obey.

I want to enjoy the blessings of true peace.”

And that is where the battle for control began.

Why do I battle?

Because I am human and cursed with a finite understanding.

Because I fall into the foolish practice of thinking too highly of myself and my wisdom.

Because I do not want to suffer rejection or appear foolish.

Because it’s easier to overly generalize rather than offend.

Because I have found comfort in things that were never meant to bring me (or anyone else) comfort.

Because (Oh my goodness, do we ever grow up?) everyone else is doing it.

Predicated on fear, all of the above trappings will ultimately steal God’s blessings from my life. I become my worse enemy.

What might I miss by not aligning with His plan?

What might the world have missed if others chose not to step through the fear into surrender?

What of Mary, mother of Jesus?

Gabriel, who was sent by God to Mary, tells her:

“‘You are honored very much. You are a favored woman. The Lord is with you. You are chosen from among many women.’ When she saw the angel, she was troubled at his words. She thought about what had been said. The angel said to her, ‘Mary, do not be afraid. You have found favor with God. See! You are to become a mother and have a Son. You are to give Him the name Jesus. He will be great. He will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give Him the place where His early father David sat. He will be King over the family of Jacob forever and His nation will have no end.'” (Luke 1:28-33)

Mary feared.
And Gabriel comforted her with promises.

And then, there was Joseph, the man Mary was pledged to marry. An Angel of the Lord was sent to him as well:

“This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be pregnant through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was faithful to the law, and yet did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly.

But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.'” (Matthew 1:18-21)

Joseph feared.
And he too was comforted with God’s promises.

Stepping through fear into surrender they married.
And Jesus was born.

“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:11)

Wonderful Counselor
Mighty God
Everlasting Father
Prince of Peace.

Mary was somewhere between the age of 13 and 16.
I am 43.

Surely I can muster the maturity of a teenager and trust a Sovereign God with every.single.aspect.of.my.life.

My word for 2016?

Surrender.
To my blessed Savior.
I surrender all.

All to Jesus I Surrender

All to Jesus I surrender;
All to Him I freely give;
I will ever love and trust Him,
In His presence daily live.

Refrain:
I surrender all,
I surrender all;
All to Thee, my blessed Savior,
I surrender all.

All to Jesus I surrender;
Humbly at His feet, I bow,
Worldly pleasures all forsaken;
Take me, Jesus, take me now.

All to Jesus I surrender;
Make me, Savior, wholly Thine;
Let me feel the Holy Spirit,
Truly know that Thou art mine.

All to Jesus I surrender;
Lord, I give myself to Thee;
Fill me with Thy love and power;
Let Thy blessing fall on me.

All to Jesus I surrender;
Now I feel the sacred flame.
Oh, the joy of full salvation!
Glory, glory, to His Name!

Merry Christmas, Everyone!

May your week be filled with thankfulness for the birth of Jesus Christ. May you love and be loved. May you give forgiveness where needed and may others forgive you. May you rejoice in all truth and bear one another’s burdens. May you trust in, hope for, and surrender all to the One who came to save.

I spent most of today on the couch enjoying the Christmas gift given to me by my oldest child – a head cold. In her defense, Emelie also gave me a beautiful abstract watercolor she painted, so…I forgave her. And as soon as I can garner the energy it takes to change from my pajamas and drive to Hobby Lobby, I plan to frame it. It is beautiful and perfect for me.

This Christmas I received several special gifts.

I’ve already told you about Emelie’s gift, and then, Jeff replaced my 3-year-old sunglasses and surprised me with a pair of kiwi Sloggers to wear about the yard. My parents gave me a watch I’ve had on my wish list for a while, which means I can leave my phone in my purse and still know the time. My In-loves gave cash that I quickly exchanged for a vat (okay, fine – 6.7 oz) of Origins Smoothing Souffle; something I sampled and fell in love with at the counter but would not purchase for myself. And my grandmother gifted me the David Jeremiah Study Bible (NKJV), which I’ll use to read through the Bible this year. This year I’ve enjoyed reading through the The Inspirational Study Bible (NCV).

But beyond the lovely gifts…

Thinking back over the last several Christmas seasons, I have to say this one topped the list for me. Mostly because we weren’t traveling on or around Christmas Day, and so, it was a peaceful, relaxed holiday where we actually rested in the Spirit of the season.

Jeff’s parents, brother, and sister-in-law drove down the Saturday before Christmas to exchange gifts as well as take Kenny out for his birthday. We had a wonderful time visiting with them throughout the day and into the evening before they headed back home.

Then, I took off work on Christmas Eve and spent the entire day at my parents’ home working a puzzle and listening/singing to Christmas music. Meredith and Emelie joined Momma and me early on, and the boys came a bit later in the day (not being big puzzlers and because Jeff wanted to fish). The evening was spent at my grandmother’s home visiting with extended family and eating our traditional potato soup – there was also oyster soup for those who could stomach it (Not me! Eeeeww).

I cherish being home on Christmas Eve, so we didn’t stay late, and Christmas morning and throughout the day was equally relaxing. My parents came over to open gifts and then, we went back to their house for pecan waffles.

It’s nice to know I will return to work in the morning not feeling as though I ran a marathon.

It’s also nice to know I had time each morning to wake up, dive into The Word, write in my prayer journal, and focus on the sole reason our family even celebrates Christmas.

May we all embrace the Lord Jesus and praise God just like the righteous and devout Simeon who “was waiting for the consolation of Israel” because the Holy Spirit had revealed to him “that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah.”

“Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to Your Word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a Light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel. (ESV)” – Luke 2:29-32

Tell me, did anything stand out about your Christmas this year?

Did you make any choices that ushered in a more peaceful celebration? Have you any special New Year’s Eve plans? As I wrote last week, my word for 2016 is Surrender. If you have a word/theme or intentional focus for 2016, please share it in the comments.