Recently I came upon my youngest, Oliver, playing a game of Klask by himself. (If you’re unfamiliar with Klask, think of it as a small air hockey or fuse ball table.) There he was, sitting on the side of the game table, with one hand playing each side.
“Look, Mom!” he called out. “I’m playing against myself, and the Me that I want to win is winning!”
I laughed and thought, Of course you are! Your little hands are in control, and you can swing the points to any side you choose. Then I was brought up short by my own thought.
Since I started this ministry back in 2011, I know that I’ve been doing social media all wrong.
I made a “business page” on Facebook because I heard that you weren’t supposed to use a personal page for a sole proprietor business (or ministry, in this case). Wrong! I eventually had to make a personal page just so I could use the existing business page, which is confusing to some who want to “friend” me.
And I post the “wrong” things on Facebook, including doing a terrible job of sharing other people’s stuff. In fact, according to social media folks, I do a terrible job of sharing my own stuff. I absolutely know they’re right.
Then their father Israel said to them, “If it must be, then do this: Put some of the best products of the land in your bags and take them down to the man as a gift—a little balm and a little honey, some spices and myrrh, some pistachio nuts and almonds. Take double the amount of silver with you, for you must return the silver that was put back into the mouths of your sacks. Perhaps it was a mistake.Take your brother also and go back to the man at once.And may God Almighty grant you mercy before the man so that he will let your other brother and Benjamin come back with you. As for me, if I am bereaved, I am bereaved.”
Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.
As I write this, it’s pouring down rain on the construction site/trash pit that is my lawn.
It’s a very, very long story, but let’s just say that the “simple” covered deck project we commissioned, the one that we believed would be completed in 5 to 7 days, is about 30% completed—and well into Week 4.
My heart is not feeling gentle or quiet—it’s way too cluttered with anxious thoughts.
I love organizing, and I love Jesus even more. But I hope that you don’t read any of my stuff and think, Well, Little Miss Organized certainly has it all together.
I really don’t have it all together. In all of my writing and speaking, I try to be super transparent, letting you know that I struggle with intentionally living for Christ just as much as the next person, if not more. I need His grace.
After reading Job 8, I decided to do an object lesson with my kids. (Fellow moms, grandmas, Sunday School teachers, try this one out this Halloween! You can make every holiday—even Halloween—about Jesus!)
I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago.
I will consider all your works and meditate on all your mighty deeds.
Think it through
This morning, I lost one of my kids again.
If you have kids, you know this feeling. You call out a name, but the only sound you hear is the hum of the refrigerator. You start walking from room to room, still calling for them, then you’re jogging, checking out closets and the basement. The house feels empty; your heart fills fear.
Lately I’ve been getting pretty frustrated with TV shows and movies that feature characters who are being left in the dark about what’s going on around them. “I can’t tell you that now,” their fellow characters say. “You’re on a need-to-know basis.” Or, “I can’t explain now, we don’t have time. We’ve got to go!”
As my husband will attest, I often look up from my crochet project and yell, “Just tell them already!”
Today I want to share with you these words that I wrote a couple of months ago with a really heavy heart. I wasn’t sure I was going to post it… it’s a little longer than my normal post, a story within a story, but I think the end is worth it. Already Jesus is healing my soul, and I feel better than I did when I wrote this. But I’m still asking for the song…
One of my dreams died today. Not with a big bang, but with the small “Pfhut” of a candle being blown out by a soft breath. My spirit is cluttered with disappointment and heartache.
But before I get into that, let me tell you a cute little story. (I always try to be positive.)
I like to entertain Oliver while I do boring things, like wipe the kitchen counters or run errands with him, by singing. Now that he’s reached the wise old age of 6, he’s becoming less than enthused about this. Recently I decided to impress him by singing one of his favorite songs with a lot of gusto, really belting it out and hamming it up as he ate his lunch and I folded laundry on our kitchen table.