Vacation Memories

The last nine months have been particularly stressful and a vacation would hit the spot right about now. Alas, it will have to wait for a little while longer. Since I'm in a beachy frame of mind, I thought I'd share some photos from our beach trip last August.

We stayed at the Calypso in Panama City Beach, Florida. I chose these condos for their proximity to the fishing pier and to the shopping and restaurants at Pier Park. Within walking distance to both. This is a view of the pier from our room at sunset.

Much to my daughter's dismay, she is usually the subject of my photo taking. I love to catch her spontaneous expressions. And the beach made it all the more fun. For me. Not so much for her.

All of these pictures of the water were taken at St. Andrews State Park. We stopped there before we headed home, and oh, boy, did we ever want to stay a while longer. It was so inviting! I don't think I've seen it this blue and this clear in a very long time.

Not too far down the beach from the crystal clear water, this is what we saw. And it stunk, too. Fortunately, the wind must have been blowing in the opposite direction because we couldn't smell it at the clear end.

A view of the coastline from St. Andrews.

We enjoyed ice cream from the Pink Pelican. It's sort of become a tradition for us to visit them when we go to Panama City Beach.

We also played a serious game of put put golf at Pirate's Island...

...rode some go-carts...

...and ate out. A lot. I look pretty darn goofy in this picture, but I think my husband looks kind of like Sean Connery, so I thought I'd throw it in the mix. Such a handsome fella, he is.

All in all, it was a great trip and I'm more than ready to go back. My parents always took me to Panama City Beach as a kid, and I have so many fond memories there. I love it!

What an awesome God we have to give us such beautiful places to enjoy!

Blessings,

No Condemnation

Romans 8:1 - There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

Today's the day. My oldest child graduates from high school tonight. I feel numb.

I feel like there are so many things that I took for granted while he was growing up. I didn't spend as much time with him as I should have. I didn't pray with him as much as I should have. I didn't do a lot of things that I should have. I find myself wishing for more time to do all those things I never did for my son when he was younger.

I feel ashamed of my selfishness. I feel guilty. My heart aches for my boys who grew up always separated by hundreds of miles from their dad. He is in the military, so visitation has always been rather difficult and infrequent, which is no fault of his own. Their childhood could have been happier. Instead, it was painful because, in addition to the fact that they couldn't be with their dad, I was distracted and preoccupied most of the time, searching for my own happiness. And it was my own selfishness in that pursuit that caused their pain. For a time, I couldn't see past my own desire for happiness enough to put them first. Not that I didn't love them. I did, always. But I took them for granted. I lived for myself and justified my actions by convincing myself and others that I would be a better mother if I could find happiness for myself. I was so lost and deceived.

What I didn't realize was, it wasn't happiness that would make me a better mother. It was God. And it was God who would fulfill that need that I was so desperately searching for.

The boys' dad and I divorced when they were young - they were four and two-and-a-half years old. I remarried first, and my new marriage wasn't without its problems. It was quite rocky and for a while, I questioned whether I had done the right thing. I guess deep down, I knew that I hadn't done the right thing, but I really wanted it to be the right thing. I had been counseled by therapists who merely validated my feelings and then prescribed anti-depressants to numb my emotions. Things just didn't seem to get any better.

One day, I called in sick because I was so depressed, I just couldn't get out of the house. I broke down sobbing that day and in my bedroom floor, I fell to my knees begging God to take the pain away. I begged for His forgiveness and pleaded with Him to just show me what He wanted me to do. I told Him that if I was supposed to go to my ex-husband and beg him to take me back, then that's what I would do. I just needed God to show me. I was exhausted from trying to figure it all out myself. Once I got it out of my system and felt a little release, I waited.

I don't remember exactly how long I waited, but it seems like it was about a week. I had been talking off and on with my ex-husband and told him I was thinking of bringing the boys to Charleston, where he was stationed at the time. I still wasn't sure what I needed to do, but that plan was on the radar. Shortly after this conversation with him, I learned that he had remarried and didn't bother to say anything to me about it.

So, that was that. Now what? Despite our problems, I knew that I loved my current husband, so I wasn't devastated. But I was still confused. I decided that, probably, God was trying to tell me something, but it didn't sink in right away. Sometime shortly after the news of my ex's remarriage, I became sick with what seemed like a stomach virus or food poisoning or a parasite of some description. Whatever it was, it was nasty, and it came out of nowhere. After a couple of days of it, on a hunch, I ran to the drug store and picked up a pregnancy test.

Yep. You guessed it. I was pregnant. And stunned.

If that wasn't a confirmation of what God wanted me to do, I don't know what was. As if my ex getting remarried wasn't enough. But, I guess in my mind at the time, it wasn't really. I'm sure God knew it would take more than that to get through to me. This pregnancy felt like God was saying to me: "What's done is done. You need to stay right where you are and trust Me from now on." It took my having another child to realize how precious children are and what a blessing it is to be a mother. God brought me to a place of utter dependence on Him and He knew exactly what it would take to change my heart. After so many of my mistakes and selfish decisions, He finally got my attention. He created me to be a mother, and it was in that role where he made known to me my deepest desires.

It still took me a long while to really appreciate the lessons that I learned in all this. My boys continued to suffer in that they were still and always would be children from a broken home, and with the birth of a baby sister, they were regrettably not given all the attention they needed. This breaks my heart. Also, when my daughter was about a year old, I decided what better time to go back to school and pursue my dream of becoming a lawyer. I was still searching. Thankfully, ours is a God of patience, and He saw me through a year-and-a-half of classes before He finally showed me that this wasn't His plan for me and my family. It was just another attempt by me to write my own destiny.

Gradually, as the kids have grown, God has revealed to me what He was trying to teach me all along. That marriage and children are gifts from Him, and they're a reflection of His love for us. He showed me that, since he blessed me with children, maybe He just wants me to be a mother. Not a student. Not a lawyer. Not anything besides a mother to these precious children. Raising my daughter along with my boys has given me a new perspective on God's love and forgiveness. Through all my mistakes, God carried me. That may sound corny, but it's true. Looking back, I can see that He was always there. He didn't leave me for one second.

Since that day of reckoning in my bedroom floor, I've seen my marriage restored and my family cared for beyond the scope of comprehension of my feeble little brain. Where my deepest desires were once to merely be happy, now, my deepest desires are to see my children walking with God and for my husband and I to be righteous examples of what it means to follow Jesus.

Knowing all this, it's so clear where all the condemnation surrounding my son's graduation is coming from. As my son graduates from high school and moves into the next chapter of his life, I will not embrace the guilt and shame of the past. Instead, I will, with a grateful heart, accept the abundance of God's grace and forgiveness, and, in faith, look forward to what great things He has in store for us.

Thank you, Lord, for your forgiveness. Thank you for your mercy. Thank you for your patience and love. Thank you, Lord, that in you, there is no condemnation. Amen.

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Blessings,

Zoo

I've always thought that teaching would be the perfect job for me. I love kids. And I like the idea of being off with my kids during the summer and Christmastime. For those reasons, it would be a great gig.

The reality is, along with the great hours, you're also dealing with 25 to 30 different personalities every. single. day. Personalities that haven't yet learned the art of self-restraint or the importance of "inside voices." Personalities that don't cover their mouths when they sneeze. Personalities that get sick and vomit in the floor and then you have to clean it up. Personalities with nose bleeds. The list goes on.

I'd never make it as a school teacher.

I learned that today.

What drew me to that conclusion, you ask? I went to the zoo with my daughter and her 3rd grade class. The little girls in our group were very sweet, but we had a couple of questionable moments. One of my daughter's friends twisted her ankle and then, later on, became sick to her stomach. We made it through alright, though. No, I didn't have to clean up vomit, but when she started feeling sick, it did cross my mind, and had that happened, I don't know what I would have done. I probably would have joined her. I've never been one to handle any type of bodily excretions, whatsoever.

Wow...this post just took a turn for the worst. Back to my point.

I did have a point.

I think.

Maybe not. Here are some photos I took today with my iPhone.

Hello, nostrils! Not a good angle...

Right before we left, a small boy - maybe 4 years old - came unglued when he spilled his drink all over his shirt. He screamed bloody murder. The kind of screaming that makes you think "what in the world are they doing to that kid?" Two women who had just come out of the gift shop saw the little fella crying. One of them reached into her bag and pulled out the t-shirt she'd just purchased from the gift shop. She walked over to the boy's parents and asked if she could replace their son's wet shirt with the new, dry one she just bought. The parents were reluctant to accept such a generous gesture from perfect strangers, but when the lady insisted, they consented. Even though the shirt was way too big for the little guy, he was happy and dry once again, and his parents were visibly relieved. I noticed my eyes welling up as I witnessed this scene. It had the love of Jesus written all over it. What made it even more amazing was that the boy's family was white and the ladies who offered to help were black. It just goes to show that, even in the midst of all the racial tension in the world today, Jesus is still at work among us, in spite of all that.

Blessings,



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Moving On

We had our last Bible study tonight with my son, Sean, there. Although it was a good time of prayer and teaching, it was also sad because I thought about the years that have passed and how much I'm going to miss him. He graduates from high school on the 15th and then will be moving to Georgia to live with his dad.

As hard as it is to let him go, I feel like it's time. He has such a sweet spirit and a good head on his shoulders, so I'm not all that worried about him. I know that God will be with him wherever he goes, and He can take care of him better than I ever could. He's had some great Christian friends in his life for the last three or four years who have mentored him and prayed for him through those tough early teen years and even now as he prepares to leave. I'm so blessed to have him in my life. In so many ways, he's a special person. And I love him.

I've been feeling all sorts of things lately because of this upcoming change in our lives. I know he is excited because he's missed his dad terribly over the years. And his dad has missed out on most of his growing up, so I know they are both looking forward to being together for a while. The selfish part of me wants to keep him here with me forever. As my daughter learned from an old episode of Dick VanDyke recently, that's what you call "selfish love."

I think Dick was teaching his son about a duck...but the same principle applies...

Bittersweet. Saying goodbye to his boyhood, but looking forward to his adulthood. He is covered in prayer, so I know he'll be fine.

I, on the other hand, am another story all together.

Is This What It's All About?

Do everything without grumbling or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, “children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation.” Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky as you hold firmly to the word of life. And then, I will be able to boast on the day of Christ that I did not run or labor in vain. Philippians 2:14-16 (NIV)

Ever struggle with purpose?

I do. I find myself sinking deeper and deeper into a rut that is eight years in the making. Each weekday morning, I wake up at 6:00 a.m., press the snooze button on my phone approximately five times before getting up to make coffee, shower, and proceed with my daily routine of getting the kids up and out the door for school. All this while getting myself ready for work. After work, I come home too drained to be functional in any capacity worthy to be deemed "motherhood."

While I know it was a God-send at the time they hired me, and I know I should be thankful for having a job when so many people don't (and I am, I really am), my job is so completely unfulfilling to me that I find it a daily struggle to focus on the actual work that I do. I leave work most days feeling emotionally drained from the struggle to focus on why I'm there. I leave knowing my employer deserves more from me.

It isn't a "dirty job" as Mike Rowe would define it. And it isn't physically demanding. It's actually a relatively cushy job. I work with great people who have been good to me over the years. I earn a good salary and have great benefits.

But I ask myself every. single. day. Is this what it's all about? Is this all there is? If I'm consistent in anything, it's in grumbling and complaining about my job on a daily basis.

So, what is it about my job that causes me to complain? I've discovered that it isn't my job at all. Not really.

As I sit behind my desk at work each day, my mind wanders to my family - my husband and my kids. I think about what they might be doing or how much longer until the kids will be home from school. Wishing I was there to greet them at the door with homemade cookies and a big hug. Wishing I could hear all about their day while making their dinner. I think about the troubles they have and wish I could be there with them more to really listen to them. Wishing I wasn't so impatient with them when I am with them.

Or, I wish I were able to sit down with my Bible and study at a time each day when I'm most likely to retain what I read. Instead, I either try to cram it in while eating during my lunch hour or I do battle with my eyelids at night. Sadly, more often than not, I simply opt out.

Or, I think about the many projects on my list that I could be working on, if only I were home. Projects that I begin with enthusiasm, but never seem to finish because I run out of steam and motivation while waiting for a good time to work on them in between mothering and working.

I also think about this blog. Thinking it would be nice to have the time to devote to it. I think of it often. I love to write. And I have a lot that I could write about. I'm sure someone out there deals with the same issues I do. And I know there are hundreds of folks with the same interests because I read the blogs. What, I wonder, am I supposed to do with this blog? Should I just consider it a nice thought, in theory, but just not realistic?

I think about a lot of things while I'm at my job. Just not my job. While these things are not bad things, thinking about them at work causes me to be a less than diligent employee. Something that leaves me feeling guilty, which tells me this isn't something God is doing.

I know that God gave me all these things in my life that I love and enjoy. He also gave me a job that I wasn't qualified for at a time in my life when I needed to have an income. And I needed to be surrounded by caring, Christian people. He provided what I needed, when I needed it.

Why do I struggle so much with focusing on my job? Why do I complain? Because I've let my own desires overshadow God's blessings and distort the Truth. I believe all the things my mind drifts to while I'm at work are good, God-given desires. But, I think there are things He needs to teach me before I'm able to receive them. I believe He's teaching me self-discipline and at the same time, He's revealing the gifts He's equipped me with. In exercising the one, I believe I will receive the other.

I've learned a little something about life in the last decade. The things that bring joy in life are gifts from a loving God. Our gifts fulfill a yearning in our spirits and our individual gifts and talents come easy to us. I don't believe that God gifted us with interests and abilities to merely use them whenever we can squeeze them in. I believe the secret to finding purpose lies in realizing our gifts and utilizing them in a way that edifies - not only ourselves, but others, as well - and in a way that brings glory to God. Once we realize His purpose in our lives, we need to receive it and continually seek His grace in fulfilling it.

I have so much more to offer my family than what I'm giving them. They deserve the best I have to offer. And the best I have to offer is not merely the weekends and a paycheck. I don't believe this is the way God intended it to be. But this is where I am right now. I've been very slow at learning the lessons He's been trying to teach me for so many years. Lessons about family, money, gifts, and faith.

Needless to say, I'm listening a little closer for that still small voice these days. The One I know would never steer me wrong.

Heavenly Father, I pray that You will grant me the grace to fulfill the purpose which you intended for me. Help me to balance the responsibilities of family and work that You have set before me and to do so with diligence and integrity. Help me to always work as if unto You without grumbling or complaining. In Jesus' name. Amen.

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Blessings,

A Gentle Reminder

Sometimes, I get really interested in something to the point I lose perspective and get all wrapped up in the not-so-important things in life. Fortunately for me, God often takes those opportunities to remind me of what is most important. 

I've recently taken up photography as a hobby.  My husband bought me a new camera as an early Christmas present last fall, and since then, I've been snapping pictures everywhere. LOTS of pictures.  On Easter Sunday alone, I took over 260 pictures.  That may not seem like a lot for some folks, but for me, it really is. I've been so immersed in learning this new hobby of mine that I tend to focus more on taking pictures of my family than on actually enjoying my family.  These two pictures are among my favorites that I took that day. Something about them just speaks to me.

I'm a little biased, I know.  What mother doesn't feel that way about pictures of her kids? 

A friend of mine told me that one day, I'd look at that bottom photo and just cry a river. I'm sure I will. I sort of already do. Even with all the teenage drama at my house, I wouldn't trade being their mom for anything in the world.

(I could use a little less drama, but you gotta take the good with the bad, right?)

I had these enlarged and will be framing them soon. More photos to come.

Blessings,
Christa

It's On Now...

Yesterday, I was reminded of how important it is to start early in teaching our children modesty. The older my kids get, the more I see the fight for their purity is imminent. I see it everywhere…at the mall, at school, even at church, which is particularly troublesome.

I was reading here yesterday and this part really caught my attention: “Women go to church wearing short skirts with slits up the back, and worship God without a care in the world. Meanwhile, the guy behind them is struggling to focus on God, instead of her body.”

I immediately thought of the youth at my church who sit in the first two or three rows during our church services. They're great kids, but I have noticed many times that some of them dress as though they're more suited for street-walking than for worship. (maybe I exaggerated just a hair, but you get my drift)

How does Lucy Teen-ager’s low cut, curve-hugging blue jeans and tight fitting shirt affect Mr. Smith who is standing behind her trying desperately to focus on worship? Or, how does that scenario affect the teenage boy who is a veritable landmine of raging hormones? How can they possibly not notice a woman dressed like that?

They do notice. And that’s a problem.

Church services have become more contemporary these days and, as such, are moving towards a “come as you are” philosophy to encourage church attendance. I think this must have started with some congregation trying to encourage church attendance by denouncing the unspoken rule that one must arrive at church donning “Sunday” clothes, else be ostracized and forever pegged a heathen.

I think it worked, to some degree. After all, everyone doesn’t have “Sunday” clothes. And I’ve known people whose past experience in church left them feeling inferior and self-conscious because they didn’t have clothes as nice as everyone else. Of course, we all know that going to church isn’t about what you wear. But for some people, the dress code could potentially make or break their decision to stay in church.

The problem I see with the “come as you are” philosophy where church is concerned is this – it needs some boundaries. This isn’t so much an issue with the older generations who are still somewhat accustomed to breaking out their Sunday best every week, but for our youth, it has become a way of life. They think nothing of it. Telling a teenager to “come as you are,” is basically saying “wear whatever you want, no matter how sleazy it looks.”

Not sure exactly how to attack this issue, but it’s one that I feel is important. It's one I intend to fight. Church, of all places, should be a safe place where the struggles of everyday life are surrendered and abandoned at the cross. It shouldn’t be the setting of yet another moral obstacle to hurdle.

There has to be a gentle way to ask the kids to leave the hoochy clothes at home.

We just need to teach our kids modesty. We need to set the example and teach them how to protect their purity and how to protect the purity of others by dressing appropriately…everywhere they go.

Blessings,

Christa

Autumn in Alabama

Last thing I recall, it was late September and I was pulling out the Halloween decorations. Before I knew it, Thanksgiving had come and gone. What happened to October, anyway?  Now, it's time to decorate for Christmas {heavy sigh}. But first, here are some highlights from Autumn 2009.

We had our annual Halloween party, which conveniently fell on a Saturday this year. We've had a party for the last six years and typically, I really get into it. Over the last couple of years, though, not so much. I love the fun aspect of it and the memories of trick-or-treating as a kid, but I don't like what the holiday stands for and I don't care to celebrate it for that reason. I don't know yet whether we'll have a Halloween party next year...maybe a Harvest party instead...and maybe not on Halloween.

Pictured here as "Abby" from NCIS is Jess. I gotta admit, that was a pretty good costume she threw together. There's my mom, the witch (in direct contrast to her personality), and my cousin, Jimmy, as Barak Obama.

From there, we played in the leaves at the blue house...

Janie and Kaylee played in the leaves, anyway, and the guys played a little football. It was just a beautiful autumn day!  That's my front door there with the wreath, the trunk that I never know what to do with, and some potpourri that I found at Michael's (the store, not the husband). And that's the mountainside that sits next to our house.  Beautiful! God is awesome, isn't He?

I really didn't take many pictures at Thanksgiving. We had a nice one, though, and a nice four and a half days off from work.  Wouldn't you know it, come Monday morning, it was raining and gloomy out.  Very hard to go back...

Blessings,
 
Christa

Divorce is NOT an Option

Obviously, it’s been a while since I posted. There’s been a lot going on. Life is crazy and I feel very dry…but I’m going to post anyway.

We’ve had some issues going on in our immediate family that have left me and my husband emotionally drained. I won’t go into details, but I will say emphatically, it just isn’t easy being a blended family and don’t ever let anyone convince you otherwise! For anyone who may be contemplating divorce, I would suggest that you rethink that decision again and again and again and pray like crazy until you can wholeheartedly say, “divorce is NOT an option.”

The children of divorced families suffer immeasurably over the loss of their original family, regardless of how young they are at the time of the divorce. Not that good things can’t come out of bad situations – my husband and I have been very blessed in our re-marriage, and the credit for that goes to God alone. I’m just saying that while you’re there at that fork in the road, feeling like you just can’t take it anymore – consider the blessings that lie on the other side of perseverance. You were led to this place for a reason. No one ever said life or marriage would be a piece of cake. God allows trials in our lives, and yes, in our marriage, to make us stronger, but if we throw in the towel just short of realizing that strength, we forfeit the blessings that go along with it. However you think your life will improve by divorcing your current spouse, your blessings will be even greater if you stay for the long haul and work through your issues.

After divorce, we may get on with our lives and find happiness in another relationship, but our children continue to live in the rubble that our selfishness created. The sooner we accept that and become proactive in making a healthy marriage a priority, the better off we'll be. The better off our children will be.  And, at the risk of sounding radical, the better off our nation will be as a whole. Whatever idiosyncrasies your spouse has that drive you nuts – that’s nothing compared to the heartache that your children will bear for the rest of their lives if you choose to end your marriage. 

I know from experience that placing Christ at the center of your marriage is the key.  No two self-centered human beings are infallible in their own strength.  We stumble. We fall into temptation. We fail. Invite God into your marriage and witness for yourself the changes that will take place. It's amazing to watch as problems that once left your marriage paralyzed with anger and bitterness simply disperse into a fine mist - leaving behind something absolutely breath-taking - a love for your spouse like you've never known before. God will do that for you, if you'll only ask Him to.

That’s my two cents for the day.

Blessings,

Christa

What's Love Got To Do With It?

In the years following my divorce and remarriage, I’ve developed a soft spot in my heart for the family unit and a strongly-held conviction that the family needs to be restored to what God intended it to be. So, while I'm on a roll with my deep thinkin', here's what I've been  pondering today regarding family.

I have three teenagers. Each of them has, at one time or another, had a girl friend or boy friend (someone with whom they are “going out,” even though none of them can officially date yet). With our kids pairing off at such young ages, I find myself deeply concerned, and up until now, I’ve not really known what to do about it.

On the one hand, I feel like these “puppy love” relationships are harmless. They are never left alone and unsupervised. On the other, I fear that this kind of relationship sets them up for hardened hearts later on (from break-ups and heartaches experienced before marriage) and a likelihood that they’ll one day look at marriage from the perspective “this probably won’t last either.” Not to mention the fact that teenage relationships like this might very well complicate hormonal issues that are hard enough to deal with when the opposite sex isn’t yet a factor.

A little radical, you think?  Maybe. But when you consider the ever prevalent moral decline of our society...maybe not.

Will a relationship that begins at 13, 14, or 15 really last a lifetime in our day and age? 

We’ve allowed something that God intended to be beautiful and loving to become perverted to the point that the ideology of a “first and only” love relationship is practically foreign to this generation. With American culture being what it is, our kids don’t really have a chance to experience “true love” the way our parents and grandparents did. They may catch a glimmer of it, but with the sex-saturated nature of our culture, by the time a kid is marrying age, they already know everything there is to know about the opposite sex.  They've had plenty of practice with plenty of partners. We need to change that. We need to start teaching our kids, in no uncertain terms and on a daily basis, that love, sex, and marriage are God-given, beautiful blessings to be enjoyed and treasured, and that what the world teaches them about it is fundamentally wrong.

Without some radical changes taking place at home, traditional marriage will surely become obsolete. To a great degree, it already has. I believe the turn-around starts with us, as parents, setting standards for our children that are higher than those of the world. We have to get radical in our child-rearing. We have to stop worrying about whether our kids like us or not and start doing what is necessary to change their future. We have to stop compromising.

We need to take our families back!

Blessings,
Christa

Epiphany

Isaiah 30:21: Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, "This is the way; walk in it."

I had an epiphany this morning. I'll get to that in a minute, but first, a little background.

Ten years ago, God led me to the job at which I work now. I know it was God leading me because at the time, I had no skills to speak of, and, had this job not just fallen into my lap the way it did, I never would have dreamed of applying for such a position. I’m not trying to beat myself up, but I knew  that I was highly under qualified. Nevertheless, in His usual, amazing way, God gave me the opportunity right out of nowhere – and I didn’t even ask for it! He led me through all my fear and insecurity to get me to a point where I could earn a decent living (it still baffles me to this day!). Then, when interest in my job began to wane, He led me through several years of selfish and unrealistic goals that I'd set for myself, and showed me ever so gently how desperately I need His guidance. He showed me what’s really important in life. He was always there with me and for most of that time, I didn’t even realize it.

I’ve been unsatisfied and discontented at my job for so long now, I find myself continually looking for something better. I went back to college for a while, thinking I wanted to become a paralegal, and ultimately, a lawyer (a dream I'd had since jr. high school). I really felt driven to "be" somebody. I became discouraged with school, though, because it wasn’t progressing as quickly as I wanted, and I was losing interest. Not to mention the issues at home…parenting four kids, being a wife, and full-time employee just didn’t mesh well with going to class until 10:00 at night. I just couldn't seem to make it work.

Somewhere in the midst of paralegal classes, I decided that I might give nursing a try. So, reminiscent of my earlier college days when I was fresh out of high school, I switched gears mid-stream and started taking nursing courses. Let’s just say that biology is not my “thang.” Neither is blood. Or any other bodily fluid. What was I thinking??

I’ve spent years making foolish decisions like this because I didn’t bother to seek guidance from God. I never prayed about any of these brilliant notions. I just followed what I thought at the time were good instincts. Or, in the case of becoming a lawyer, I thought I was following my heart.

More recently, I’ve been thinking of taking online courses in web design. It’s something I’m interested in and it would allow me to be creative – something my current job totally lacks. If I have to work, I figured I should at least enjoy what I'm doing. But when I thought of the extra expense we’d be taking on for another endeavor like that, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not with my track record. This time, I prayed. And I chalked that bad feeling up to the Lord’s leading me in another direction. I didn’t need to go that route again.

So, this morning, I got to thinking. I began to look at what has remained constant in my life since I started working ten years ago – my marriage, my family, my job, and the desire to homeschool.  I’ve wanted to homeschool my kids for about two and a half years now, with no real deviation from that desire. I’d try to suppress it from time to time, wondering if that, too, wasn’t just another crazy idea I’d concocted out of discontentment with my job. The desire would always come back, though. And usually stronger than before.

Sounds like continuity to me. Maybe this is what I should focus on.

Instead of going deeper into debt for more education (that I may or may not even finish - again), I should redirect my focus on getting out of debt so that I can homeschool!  It's so clear to me now!! I was blessed with a great job. One that I would never have landed in my own efforts. I need to use those God-given provisions to pay off the debt that is hindering me from making homeschool a reality. I’ve had the resources to make it happen all this time, but I’ve failed to see God’s wonderful provision through all my doubt and discouragement.

Thank you God, for showing me the way! You truly are the Great Provider!

Can I Get A Witness?

The last few days have been difficult for me. I'm waiting for some tests to come back from my trip to the doctor Tuesday afternoon.  I've been feeling some awful strong emotions and crying at the drop of a hat. I've always been a crier, but this is different. It comes in waves. Or whenever I think of my kids. Or whenever someone talks to me, is nice to me, is mean to me, or looks at me the wrong way. 

Sounds hormonal to me.

On a different note, I've often wondered what it feels like to know that you are called to work for the Lord.  Of course, I feel like we're all called to do the work of the Lord in some capacity, but I'm talking about seriously dedicating your life to that purpose - like starting a ministry.  What does that feel like?  Does everything in your life just glow with divine radiance once you come to that revelation?  Or do things get more difficult and require more from you - more spiritually, emotionally, and physically - before you actually get to the point of living out that calling?

Just wondering.

Blessings,
Christa

My Family

I thought I'd post some photos of my family.



Here's me and my husband during a trip to Stone Mountain, Georgia, last year. He got sick from the BBQ from this restaurant...despite that, my getting mad at him later on that day, and the fact that it rained {buckets} most of the weekend, it was a nice trip. Really. It was!




And here we are at the beach. From left: Logan, Sean, Janie (in front), Me, Jess, and Michael in back. I love this picture, even though I thought someone might die before we actually took it. Everyone was hungry, mom was irritable, and no one wanted to cooperate. We had a great dinner at Captain Anderson's afterward, so we got over the trauma pretty quick.
It's never been easy to get my family together for a photo. Sometimes the memories surrounding our pictures aren't very pleasant, but that's ok. I love 'em just the same.

Blessings,
Christa

Change of Plans

So, we didn't quite make it to the beach. Long story, but here's the skinny:

My son, Logan, got sick the day we were going to leave and out of fear that he may have the flu crud that's going around, we debated over whether it was a good idea to leave town or not.

In the midst of trying to decide, I received a rather unusual call from a very dear friend of mine. Suffice it to say that after that call, I was sure that we should not go to the beach after all. My friend is going through a tough time right now and I pray that she's on the road to recovery. That's all I'll say about that.

Logan got better, thanks to the wonderful people who make Tamiflu, but my older son, Sean, became puny Sunday morning. He wasn't so fortunate. He was diagnosed with the flu on Tuesday of last week. He's better now, thank the Lord, but for a while there, he was pretty miserable. His only symptoms were sore throat, fever, and chills. No body aches, no cough (in the beginning). I just knew it was strep throat and not the flu. Go figure.

And here we are a week later. I keep expecting to come down with it myself. Or someone else in the family. We'll see. I pray that we don't. It's nasty stuff.

Blessings,
Christa

Road Trip

The Labor Day weekend is approaching and you know what that means...three-day weekend! Yes, for the working girl, a three-day weekend is big. Especially when there's no more vacation time left to take.

So, we're loading up and heading to the beach. This time, my 13-year-old son and 5-year-old daughter will be the only ones going with us. For some reason, the kids have quite a bad taste in their mouth for the beach. So much so that the older two chose to pick up trash in our community (youth project at church) rather than be subject to the 72 hour misery that is a family trip to the beach. I suppose that if we were staying in a condo, they'd change their tune a bit, but we will be staying in the travel trailer we bought a couple of years ago. We thought it might bring us closer as a family. Apparently, it's a little too close for comfort for the sophisticated tastes of our 15-year-olds. It must cramp their style somewhat to be seen in such close proximity to their parents.

Do people still say that something cramps their style? That probably went out with Fonzie.

Or maybe we're just boring.

We took the boys and our younger daughter down in June (our other daughter was with her mother...yours, mine, and ours) and it appeared to me that they were trying to have a bad time. We thought they'd love going to the water park, so we dropped a pretty penny and spent a whole day there. All the boys wanted to do was sit around in lounge chairs and complain that it was too hot. One of them did enjoy the wave pool once, and I forced them both to grab an innertube and float down the lazy river. Who doesn't like the lazy river, for crying out loud? When I was a kid, I'd have been thrilled to pieces to go to the water park.

I don't think we're all that boring. I think kids are just different now. Too many video games. Too much television. It really isn't their fault. It's ours.

In any event, we're going to the beach, leaving two behind. It makes me sad. They're staying behind for a good cause, though. I'm proud of them. I think they're wonderful.

Blessings,
Christa

The Voice

Here is something I wrote earlier this year during a particularly rough period with my son...

My younger son is 13. A vulnerable age – wedged snugly between boyhood and manhood. I can only imagine that’s a very confusing place to be. He’s a thinker – very insightful. Over the course of the past several months, he's expressed serious questions about life, about himself, and about God. He told me recently, in no uncertain terms, that he didn’t believe in God. As hard that was for me to hear, I believe he is genuinely looking for answers to his questions. He wants tangible proof that God exists.

After he dropped the bomb of disbelief on me that night, we read scripture together. Whether he was open to believe God’s Word or not, I knew that was the only place to find answers to his questions. We read and we talked. We talked about finding our worth in God and not in what the world thinks we should be. We talked about finding purpose in life through all the disappointments and obstacles we face. We also talked about spiritual gifts - how we find our unique gift and use it to glorify God. We talked about several things that night, but most important, I think, was our talk about how we should not allow Satan to steal our joy by listening to his lies, because Satan knows our weaknesses and he preys on those weaknesses in order to bring us to the point of despair – to the point of losing hope, and ultimately, losing our faith. This, I feared, is the point my son had reached.

Surprisingly, on the Sunday morning following that talk, my son wanted to sit with me at church. He usually sits with his friends from the youth group in the front pews, but for whatever reason, my confused baby boy chose to sit with me that day, and I was honored. I hadn’t expected my husband to come to church that day. He has doubts and questions of his own, and going to church with us has been a struggle for him. But lo and behold, he came! He was late, but he came! As I sat there between my husband and my troubled son, I thanked God for His goodness and His grace.

The chatter in the sanctuary quieted down as the pastor opened the service with prayer. I cried as he prayed, struggling to focus on the words of his prayer through my tears. I didn’t know for sure if it was hormones causing my tears or if I was truly moved by the Holy Spirit. Not to take away from the moving of the Spirit, but I cry a lot. My crying in church is no rare occasion. In fact, it’s pretty much a sure thing – like death and taxes. On this day, though, I wasn’t just crying, as a general term. I was weeping. The tears were coming from deep within me; my soul ached for a healing touch from the Lord. I have felt an aching spirit before, but today, the ache seemed stronger than ever. In addition to the struggles with my son and our other three children, my husband and I had battled various issues throughout our marriage of eight years, and the battle seemed endless. I wanted peace. I wanted unity. I needed to hear from God. Our family desperately needed healing and God was the only One who could provide it.

The choir began to sing and the congregation gradually joined in. The praise and worship was more powerful that day than it had felt in a long time, at least for me. As I stood there listening to the music, I felt like singing, but all I could do was bow my head, close my eyes, and let the words and music penetrate to the core of me. My tears spilled out onto my hands as I grasped the pew in front of me. I felt detached somehow. Like a scene in a movie where a person is unconscious and can hear those around him, but is unable to respond.

I prayed. I don’t know exactly what I prayed for, but I prayed. My mind seemed to race. There was so much in my life that needed God’s touch; I didn’t even know where to begin. My mind scrambled for something to say. “Please Lord, please just help us! Bring what we need! Help my son - open his fragile heart and help him see you Lord, protect him from Satan’s lies! Strengthen my marriage…please, Lord!” I went on and on, rambling requests to God about nothing in particular, but everything in general. Then, through my mind’s voice and my heart’s cries, I heard it. The words were so clear that I actually looked over to my left where my son stood because that’s where it seemed to come from. The voice was distinctly different from that of my mind. This voice was gentle and soothing. I clearly heard the words.

"It will be ok."

Was that Him? I’d always heard people talk about hearing the Lord telling them this or that. How does that sound? How do you know it's really Him?

Feeling a bit confused, I took a deep breath and my tears began to subside. I felt a rush of peace and contentment come over me as I looked up through moist, foggy eyes. My racing thoughts slowed as I recalled the words I had just heard. “It will be ok.” Not exactly earth-shattering, and a little more vague than I would have thought, but comforting nonetheless.

The worship music sounded so sweet; I began to sing. The desperation and grief I had felt a moment ago was completely gone. The Spirit of the Lord was there, and he was standing right beside me – between me and my troubled son! He spoke to me. He heard the cries of my heart and He spoke to me!

Shortly after that precious moment, we sat down and my son leaned over to rest his head on my shoulder. This is a boy who typically pulls away at the slightest indication that I might touch him. I was surprised at first, and thought that perhaps he was merely tired and wanted a place to rest his sleepy head. Even if that was the case, it was fine with me. I began to cry again, only this time it was tears of joy. Tears of thanksgiving. I leaned my head over to rest on his and we sat there together, listening to the music fade as the pastor began his sermon. I sat very still, trying to stifle my sobs of joy for fear that he would lift his head from my shoulder. I reveled in the closeness I felt with him at that moment.

Eventually, he did move his head and sat up in the pew. I wondered if he was listening to the sermon. He was fidgety, as usual. Examining his fingernails. Squirming. My initial instinct was to nudge him with my elbow and tell him to be still and listen. Then I remembered the voice I’d heard moments earlier. “It will be ok.” Trusting in my Assurance, I returned my attention to the sermon. Something the pastor said at that point really hit home. He spoke of the lies Satan tells us, with the intention to steal our joy and to discourage us. To distract us from the One who gives us joy. I leaned over to my son and whispered in his ear, “do you remember our talk about this the other night?” “Yes,” he answered. He was listening. Thank you, God, he was listening!

After the service concluded, there was a rare smile on my son’s face. I don’t know if he was able to comprehend all that happened that day, but I was happy to see that smile. The Lord worked in our lives during that service. God heard my cries, He knew my pain and that of my son. He was there that day with His arms around us, and He assured me “it will be ok.” Perhaps I felt more from the Lord that day than my son did, but I know what I heard. I know why I heard it. On this day, I’d heard the voice of the Lord assure me, “it will be ok.”

“I trust you, Lord,” I said, with my arm around my son. “I trust you to give him what he needs.”

Blessings,

Christa