WFW

But the fruit of the Spirit is
Love, joy, peace, patience,
kindness, goodness, faithfulness,
gentleness and self control.
~Galatians 5:22

If only practicing these every day was as easy as picking an apple from a tree...

For more goodness, click here!

Newly Saved?

I think... that it is possible... that I only recently... became saved.

Those were strange words to type just then.

Because I thought that I was already saved. Although I could not point to a moment and say, "That's when I became saved," I was pretty sure it had happened.

But then something really did happen. Over this summer, as I began to read more & more of what I call "ChristianMomBlogs," I started to notice some real changes in my home, my life, my heart.

It began casually enough. I read a post on priorities & schedules. Then I read about training and disciplining children. And then I read about peace from a mother's perspective.

And sort of rapidly... something inside me changed. It was as if Someone lit a fire under me. I couldn't pray enough, couldn't read my Bible enough, couldn't find enough Biblical guidelines for how I should be living my life.

I was thirsty, but not for water. I was hungry, but not for bread.

I still am.

And then, last week, I was listening to the "Church Channel" on the radio (the BOTT Radio Network). I can't remember if it was Adrian Rogers or Chuck Swindal (I like them both). But he was talking about the Commandments. He said that we don't follow the Commandments in order to be saved. We follow the Commandments because we are saved. He stated that when the Holy Spirit fills us, we are filled with a desire to keep God's Law. We are compelled to follow the Law and to walk each day with the Lord and to seek Him in all things. And then he said, "...and if you think you're saved, but you don't feel that, then there aught to be a big question mark about that." And I had to stop and say, "Woah."

Because I have never before felt what I feel now. But if I was truly saved, shouldn't I have felt it? I mean, shouldn't I have felt even a little tickle of it? I was raised in a religious organization that taught untruths about God. (Like, serious untruths that I will surely spend the rest of my life trying to unlearn.) So maybe that lead me to believe that I had been saved, but that I really hadn't. Not really.

Because it never felt like this before.

Things I have learned, and continue to learn have drastically changed the way I interact with my husband, raise my children, keep my home, do my job... the things I do, the things I think, the choices I make, the actions I take. None of these is done without consideration of my Lord and his Word. (Okay, some are still done according to my own will. Hey, I'm only human!)

I guess it doesn't really matter if I was really saved before or not. I am definitely saved today.

I feel so new and shiny, like that new pair of shoes, or that new purse... because today I know that I am saved.

Praise the Lord. I am definitely saved today.

Word Filled Wednesday

Neither he who plants, nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow.
~1 Corinthians 3:7

I love this one. It makes me think of raising my children. I water them, but God really makes them grow. He always has His hands on everything in our lives. I find that to be so comforting.

or more beautiful inspiration, click here

What Do I Say to That?

I have had a quandary on my mind for some time now. It's something that I have pondered for what seems like a long time. Here's the question:

How do I respond when people compliment me on my voice?

It seems like a silly question. What do you say when someone compliments your outfit or your necklace? You say, "Thank you," and give them a smile. But that doesn't seem to work here.

See, I'm a music therapist. I serve children with special needs in a public school setting. Every day, I trek to several different buildings, lugging with me my guitar and a big box of instruments, books & materials. I conduct sessions in conference rooms, therapy rooms, homework rooms, my colleagues' offices and sometimes the hallway. Other staff members, administrators and parent volunteers pass by my sessions all the time, so lots of people hear me sing every day. (This used to freak me out, as I am a seriously shy person...)


Every now & then someone will feel compelled to catch me after my session & say something like, "You have a lovely voice," or "Your singing is so pretty."

Yikes! I don't know how to respond.

Up until now this post may sound like I'm bragging, but I promise I'm not. Here's the part where my humbleness becomes obvious.

I don't feel comfortable saying, "thank you" because I cannot take credit for Someone Else's work. Especially not that Someone.

I have struggled in recent years with the fact that I have two children, and also work outside of my home. I have read the blogs of some great mothers who homeschool their children, and I have thought to myself, "I would be happy to do that." My mother's heart longs to be with my children.

But God has other plans for me, and I've known this for a long time. Looking back across the years of my life, I can see those moments where He said, "Go this way. You'll be closer to where I want you to be." I can see in myself the qualities that He put there from the start... those qualities that He knew I would need to answer His call.

One of those necessary qualities is a pleasing singing voice. I didn't choose or create my voice. God did that. He created it and put it into my body. (Now, I'm not saying that I think I'm a rock star, but I can carry a tune.)

The truth is that I can do nothing without Him. (It says so, right in my Bible!)

I sort of think about an artist. Some great artists make their own brushes. They construct a brush with a specific purpose in mind. Then they alter it here & there to better suit that purpose. They trim the bristles a bit, change the grip a bit, soften or stiffen the bristles a bit. The final form that the brush takes on could be magnificent. It could be the most amazing brush EVER MADE.

But it is nothing until the artist picks it up and uses it. Until the artist plucks that brush up and applies it to His purpose, it is just a piece of wood and hair. Nobody would ever look at the Mona Lisa and say, "Wow! That painting was created by a truly wonderful... brush."

Let me tell you, my job is a complete blessing. I get to serve my Lord by serving His most wonderful children. I get to see the little miracles He works in them every day. And I get to be a part of that. But until He picks me up and uses me, I am nothing. And even then, I am only a tool He uses to work His wonders. The progress my students make is never due to anything that I have done on my own.


All of this goes through my mind each & every time someone says, "You sing so beautifully!" I want to say, "Thank you, but IT'S NOT ME. I AM JUST THE INSTRUMENT GOD USES TO WORK HIS WONDERS AND I CAN TAKE NO PRAISE OR CREDIT FOR THAT."

But I can't say that. I'm not allowed to say that in front of any of the students, and even if there are none in the room, God has been expelled from school. Even here in the Midwest. He is very taboo. Eyebrows are raised if ever His Holy name is mentioned (unless it's by someone who is taking His name in vain. Then, apparently, it's acceptable.)

Even outside of the public school arena, people often get visibly uncomfortable when you start talking about God when they didn't see it coming. They sort of shift their weight from side to side, look at you as if you have antennae growing out of your head, and change the subject as quickly as humanly possible. (Okay, sometimes I do mention Him to a Christian who is not made uncomfortable, and I always feel a sense of relief when they do not give me "the look.")

So I feel like I am stuck between a rock and a Sherman tank. I feel compelled to glorify His name, to praise His works... but I am also compelled to keep my job. (...since I can't serve His children if I'm not allowed into the schools anymore...)

If you've actually made it to the end of this [incredibly long] post, I am asking for your input. I want your thoughts, wisdom, advice. How do you think I could respond when someone compliments my voice?

Please, please, PLEASE leave a comment. If you read this. And at this point I am almost convinced that there is only one person out there who ever reads this blog (Hi, awesome new friend who reads my blog!)... please weigh in & help me with this. I am so new to this journey that I am finding some everyday situations a challenge to figure out.

A New Lesson

School is in full swing, and I finally have some schedules made up. Since I work outside our home, it is difficult to fit in everything I want to, and we have to pair down a lot.

One thing we am not willing to "put on the shelf" until next summer are Ty's Bible lessons. He went to a religious preschool, where they read a Bible story every day and went upstairs to Chapel every week. It was nice to know that he was learning lessons of faith while I was working.

And then, last year he went to public school. Need I say more?

So, we will be continuing our Bible studies throughout the school year. Right now (while the weather is so beautiful) we'll be doing a lesson 3 days a week, though they will likely be daily when winter comes.

We recently finished a pretty long unit on the Ten Commandments. Most of the activities were ones I made up on the fly. I posted the Commandments and some of our worksheets & drawings on our pantry door. I am a little embarrassed to admit that I didn't know all of the commandments. I am happy to say that I now know all ten! (So does Ty.)
That was such a great success (Ty didn't complain about this lesson once), that I decided to create another unit to focus on a verse that I recently learned.

~Galations 5:22~
But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control.

I was looking through the concordance of my Bible for all the places that the word patience was used, and I tripped & fell face-first into this one. I do struggle with some of those sometimes...

Anyway, I took the Commandment papers off the pantry door and put up a big paper tree:
As you can see from the photo, we've already begun with "love." This will be a 9-week unit, with each "fruit" being studied for a week (i.e. 3 days). I've got three copies of each fruit: 1 will have the virtue printed on it, 1 will have the definition printed on it, and 1 will have ways that we can show that virtue. This tree is going to be full by the time we're done... it will bear 27 fruits all together!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And since I have to mention both my little guys here, I'll share with you our new discovery. Our 17 month old loves coffee (with a little milk & sugar). Matt was drinking a cup over the weekend, and Wild Thing asked for a drink. Matt gave him a taste, thinking that he would make a face & be done...
...so imagine our surprise when Wild Thing smiled, nodded his head "yes," and signed, "more!"
I was especially shocked, since, no matter what I do, I cannot cultivate a taste for the stuff.

Aren't kids awesome?

Word Filled Wednesday

You can see more inspirational words here.

Why Did He Let That Happen?

This is something I ponder often. Usually, I trust that God had some reason for allowing various events to conspire in my life. I don't always get to know the "why," but I can usually trust that there is one.

Sometimes, I look back at things that happened weeks, months or even years ago, and say, "Oh, I get it. I learned ____, or That lead to ______." Other times, I look back across the years, and I am still completely confused. I know He has a "why"... I just don't get it.

While I feel like I've only recently begun a journey to Christ, the truth is that my journey began long, long ago. It seems like a lifetime ago.

When I was little, my family didn't go to church. We didn't talk about God. I don't think this was intentional, I think He just never came up in our conversations. Prayers were said at my grandparents' house on holidays; church was a place we went with them on rare occasions. But "religion," and "faith" were not parts of our lives.

Then, when I was... oh, I don't know... maybe 8 years old (?) my parents found a new "church" to attend. I don't know how they found it, but I think maybe it was through a friend or the friend of a friend. I just vaguely remember this one evening when some people came to our home; they prayed and read the Bible and sang some pretty cool songs (& someone had a guitar!). After that, we joined them & Sunday morning became a day of worship.

The "church" was not really a church. There was no big building to go to. There was no preacher who wore any special outfit. There were no pews, and there was no organ. We went to someone's house every Sunday for "fellowship" (not "church").

This organization was called The Way Ministry (aka The Way International). It was essentially a cult. Don't panic! It wasn't like the ones you see on TV (where the FBI is shooting tear gas into a compound of KoolAid drinkers). Nobody wore denim from head to toe (or Little House on the Prairie dresses); nobody changed their names to sound more Old Testament; there was no polygamy; and it wasn't so creepy as the word "cult" makes it sound.

We remained active with that group well into my teens. Well, my Dad didn't really buy a lot of it; I think it contradicted his childhood training in the UCC. But my mom continued to take us to Fellowship on Sundays (and Children's or Teens' Fellowship on Saturday mornings) long after my parents split up.

I, being in my formative years, bought everything they taught, lock, stock & barrel. It was this group that laid the (very warped) foundation for my journey through faith. I have spent the better part of my twenties and (the few years I've had in) my thirties (ahem) unlearning what I learned there. I'm not sure if I will ever unlearn some pieces.

I feel like a child whose parents took her outside every day, and said, "See that sky? It's green. See that grass? It's blue." Only to grow up and go out into the world, always believing what she was taught when she was little, and have some stranger on the street say, "What the heck are you talking about? Are you color blind? The sky is blue and grass is green." I would imagine that for the rest of that child's life, she would always think of the grass being blue, and would always have to remind herself that, no. The grass is green.

And I wonder. Why did God let that happen? Why did He, in his infinite wisdom, allow someone to paint for me a picture of Him that was so wrong? Why would He allow me to learn all that stuff that would eventually lead me to have to fight for my faith?

Maybe someday He will reveal the answer. Maybe someday I'll get to ask Him (respectfully, humbly, of course) what the heck that was all about.

For now, I think I'll have to be satisfied with the understanding that there is a why... even if He's not telling me what it is today.