All that can be shaken...

I think I've mentioned that I'm reading this new book called Out of Control and Loving It! which is definitely a challenging title, let alone dealing with the content in the book. But it is SO good in challenging me to truly give my life over to and trust God. Today's chapter was about how God shakes us to create a stronger foundation in Him. The exact quote was this: "If you are receiving your affirmation, love, self-worth, joy, strength, and acceptance from anywhere but God, He will shake it." I can't deny this passage was written for me, that is pretty much my life in a nutshell right now. I feel like this year has been one big earthquake! From the book incident, to the first house falling through, to the lack of job for Herb, to various challenges at school, I feel like God is trying to rouse me.

First of all, up until this year, school was a place where I felt confident and where I drew much of my self-worth. I am good at teaching, kids and admin like me; it felt good to be at school. But that isn't the identity God wanted for me. He didn't want me to think I can earn my worth or create love and admiration for myself. Rather He wanted to remind me that He is my self-worth, He is the reason I can so ably teach my students. He is my source of strength, my foundation.

I already wrote about how God took the first house from us to help me see that I didn't deserve the house, but that rather it was a blessing from Him. And now He is still asking Herb and I to trust He will provide for us amply with or without the blessing of a full-time job.

God is shaking us and I'm going to be honest, it's not comfortable. It's disconcerting and many times lonely, but He is drawing us to Him, no doubt. We are in prayer more, together and apart. We are in the word more, talking about how scripture is shaping us. We are challenging one another to be more forgiving and accepting of those around us. We are asking God to provide no matter what our financial or employable status is. I am trying to give God my classroom more and more, to make it less about me and more about His work. I want the firm foundation, and if that means shaking, well, so be it. Now God, just be merciful in the earthquake, let me feel Your loving arms around me. Let me know that You have a plan and believe it whole heartedly. Let me stand on Your solid ground as You shake away the sinking sand.

Hard Work=Relaxing?

A few nights ago Herb and I were praying together (I know, it's wonderful that it's a habit now!). Herb was praying for me and asked that I would take the time I now have to relax. Then he followed up with "Or as it is for Katie, if she needs to get some work done, allow her to do that to feel more relaxed." This is a man who knows me all too well! I spent today, my day off, cleaning the house, cleaning out my pantry and junk drawer and doing some laundry. There was some relaxing in there too, but mostly some good hard work. And it felt good, and I feel so relaxed right now! My husband knows me...it's a good feeling to be known.

I know it sounds crazy to most that cleaning my house is a satisfying way to spend my day off, but I just love to sit in a clean house. It makes me feel so at ease to look around and realize that I am that much further from cleaning my house again. Somehow it gives me the feeling that there is more relaxing in my future than hard work.

Herb laughs at me because I claim that I'd rather do work now so I can rest later. His response "But you never relax later!" We joke, but of course there's often truth in the humor. But today I did relax later. I am currently sitting on my couch enjoying the D-backs win against the Dodgers, after having lost to Herb at Scrabble. I found relaxation in my hard work, at least for the day.

So as paradoxical as it may seem, hard work equals relaxing for me.

I know the plans I have for you...

Last night at church there was an opportunity to take our burdens, our sins, our secrets and nail them to the cross, much as you might expect from an Easter week service. As I sat down to write, knowing exactly the burden I wanted to relinquish, God placed a very different version of my burden on my heart. And all of the sudden I was writing: I don't truly believe you have good in mind for me.

What a harsh realization! I know my God and I know His goodness, but I do not believe truly that it is intended for me, especially when it comes to where my life goes from here. The cool part, I wrote down that untruth and nailed it to the cross to be erased by His precious blood shed for me.

The story gets cooler: Herb and I are driving home discussing the service and I tell Him my revelation. God showed Herb a very similar truth, he doesn't truly believe God has a place for him in the work world. We both agreed that we should be praying over one another for this specific area. Cool enough for one day, right?

God is so much bigger...I was getting ready for bed thinking about praying over Herb when it dawned on me: every night I spend 8 minutes doing neck exercises and Herb hangs out with me; why not spend that 8 minutes praying?! Praying together isn't something we do often, but it's something we desire to do. So last night we started praying together!

Yet there's more! This morning I got up to read my devotional and part of the chapter was about believing in the good God has set before you. Specifically it called upon Jeremiah 29:11 "'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the LORD, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'" How, after this last 24 hours, can I not believe this is true? How, after God so perfectly spoke to me and to Herb so clearly, can I not begin to pray over and trust in His future? It may not be the future I envision, but it will be "exceedingly beyond all I can ask or think" (Ephesians 3:20), which is more than enough for me!

Eggplant debacle

I think that the picture speaks for itself, but if it doesn't, feel free to ask away. The answer is boring...I was too tired to be cooking at my normal thinking level!

Don't you just hate it sometimes!

Yesterday God and I had a little argument in the car. I had just been berated and belittled by a parent via phone, and I was crying brokenheartedly when God reminded me:

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Corinthians 12:9-10

This is the verse I had been meditating on yesterday morning. My comments to God went something like this: "Just because you place a verse on my heart less than 12 hours ago, doesn't mean you have to give me a chance to live it out right away!"

And God just chuckled, "Of course it does."

Don't you just hate it sometimes when God immediately provides an opportunity for you to live out His word immediately! Guess He has to hit me while it's still fresh in my mind, forgetful as I am. Needless to say I'm trying to delight in weaknesses and insults and trying not to dwell on the untruths that so want to penetrate my heart.

Independent?

So I'm posting, try not to die of shock! It won't be a long post because I have to get back to the school grind, but I thought I'd share this interesting revelation I've been mulling over for the last week and a half.

When Lori and I met a few weeks ago, we were talking about helplessness, and how it is a frowned upon attribute in our society, but a coveted attribute in our walk with God. It then hit me...

In our society, as we age and grow the goal is to become more independent. Parents try to train their kids so that they can eventually leave and survive on their own. But this is counter to what God asks of us. As we grow more in our relationship with God, our goal, or rather His goal for us, is to recognize our dependence on Him.

It is so hard for us to admit we are helpless, incapable, that we are in need of guidance, but that is the exact humility God is asking of us. So one of my new goals is to admit I need help. I want to become more dependent on the Maker, be more honest about my brokenness and short comings. Scary goal? Absolutely! Freeing decision? Absolutely!

Irresponsible Passion

It's time for me to report on the new book I'm reading. You know how I roll. I read a new book, find some amazing passages and feel compelled to share them. I am currently reading Dangerous Wonder by Michael Yaconelli, a book about having a childlike faith. There are times that it's challenged my ideas, challenged my perception of God, but this morning the truth resonated. Two quotes invaded my heart and mind and have left me seeking an irresponsible passion, not unlike the passion God has for us. The first quote led the chapter:

"I'm discovering that a spiritual journey is a lot like a poem. You don't merely recite a poem or analyze it intellectually. You dance it, sing it, cry it, feel it on your skin and in your bones. You move with it and feel its caress. It falls on you like a teardrop or wraps around you like a smile. It lives in the heart and the body as well as the spirit and the head." Sue Monk Kidd

This resonates with the English teacher in me. I don't just want kids to be able to analyze poetry, literature, words, but instead internalize them, allow the words to become a part of who they are. What an awesome representation of that!

The second passage is a story. Read through it, try to let go of the rule-following, law-abiding portions of yourself and see the beauty of the gift this little boy is giving:

"A young father, a typical type-A personality, followed the same routine every workday. He would arrive home around 5:30 P.M., park the car in the garage, walk out to the driveway with briefcase in hand, pick up the newspaper, proceed to the front door, enter the house, place the briefcase in the hallway, put the newspaper on the couch in the living room, then walk down the long hallway to the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, he would open the cupboard, take out a glass, and place it on the counter. He would then open the refrigerator, reach for the carton of milk, walk over to the glass, our the glass full of milk, and return the milk to the refrigerator. Without thinking, he would pick up the glass of cold milk, grab a cookie from the cookie jar on the counter, and walk to the living room where he would sit down, power up the television with the remote, watch the news while drinking his milk and eating his cookie, sometimes stopping during commercials to browse through the newspaper. His routine had been the same for many years, and, unbeknownst to him, his three-year-old son had noticed.

One night the father came home from work and began his usual routine. As he stepped into the hallway, setting his briefcase and newspaper down, he looked up to see his son standing down the hall, a smile on his face, obviously anticipating his father's return. Dad knew something was up, so he stopped and watched his son turn around and head for the kitchen. Pleasantly surprised, the dad crept to the edge of the kitchen to see what his son was up to. The little boy ran to the corner of the kitchen, pulled out the bottom drawer (which he was not supposed to do), stepped on the drawer, climbed onto the counter (which he was not supposed to do), reached into the cupboard, and pulled on a glass, knocking the other glasses over. Thankfully, none of them broke. With glass in hand, the little boy scooted back down onto the drawer, then to the floor, and ran over to the cookie jar. He reached up as high as he could and, barely grasping the jar, knocked it over and spilled cookies all over the floor. Oblivious to his father, he scooped all the cookies up and put them back on the counter, except for one. He picked up the remaining cookie, ran over to the refrigerator door, and reached inside and grabbed the plastic half-gallon container of milk. Awfully heavy for a three-year-old, it promptly fell to the floor, which knocked the top off and spilled a little milk all over the floor. Any other evening the father would have yelled at his son by this time, pointing out the terrible mess he was making. Instead, he sensed something much more important was happening here; he patiently waited as the little boy picked up the cookie and the glass of milk and came running to him with a huge smile on his face. The dad threw his arms around his son and said, 'Thank you, Son!' Dad realized his son was giving him a wonderful gift."

Isn't that beautiful!? How precious and reckless true passion and love can be! It isn't always neat and orderly. There won't always be tidy bows wrapped around our passionate actions. Sometimes in the most wildly abandoned moments we find the truest joy, the most beautiful of life's treasures. I want to embrace life, to pour glasses of milk and spill cookies in attempts to show others how loved they are! May my love for others and for God be a passionate mess, and may I be less concerned about the trail of cookies left behind in my wake.