i have a tan

and i mean that in the most unspiritual way possible! but it's true, this pasty white girl has got more freckles than evah, and a nice spring tan to go with them. i had a horrible, emotional Parenting Fiasco this weekend and i'm not sure this is the space to share that, but some of the repercussions have been kind of incredible. we were already beginning to limit the boys' TV time, and that's gone well. now it can be an intentional tool to give me a break at the times i need it most, instead of it being background noise that the kids get bored of right when i need them to be still! i also quit Facebook. it was so much fun, and a great way to connect with friends, but i was logging on every single time i opened my computer. i did the math last week and in one day i sat at my computer as much as a person who works a 9-5, and i stay at home. what am i showing my kids? how am i working on losing weight, cleaning house, changing diapers, cooking from scratch if i spend so much energy online? it was dragging me down. besides, the Fiasco needed to be addressed. in an ongoing kind of way. so i'm still off Facebook. and spending time outside. i've exercised, i've played with the boys. and i've gotten a nice tan. lovely!

quick to love, repost

this was another excellent (and, as always, timely) post over at (in)courage for me to read today. i was most struck by this passage:
what if we jumped into one another's lives and showed the kind of broad-stroked love that jesus did?

good question.

sorry i haven't had a lot of my own to say lately, but i've been reading and getting refreshed by others' words, so perhaps this is a season of pouring-in instead of pouring-out?

worship the lamb

you know how you think of something fondly (such as chocolate you've told yourself you can't eat, for example), and then you have it, and it's just not as good as you remembered? or you read a book for the 2nd time and you're underlining whole passages where before you could recall nothing? well, i ate several (ahem) snickers minis tonight and was duly unimpressed. that is incredible news for my diet. and i'm reading a book i've attempted three times previously, and yet, here i am, chewing on good, deep thoughts, and that is Good News indeed.

i am reading ted tripp's estimable shepherding a child's heart, and while there have been several nuggets, here is one thought in particular that has struck me quite profoundly: "part of the parent's task is to shepherd him as a creature who worships, pointing him to the One who alone is worthy of his worship. the question is not 'will he worship?' it is always 'whom will he worship?'"

we all worship. we worship our time, our schedules, our statuses (or updates), ourselves... when we ought to be worshipping the one who made time and made us to be like him. amazing. and all that i see as rebellion and defiance in my little boys is a chance to point them to the One who redeems. who loves. who graces. teach them to worship Him. oh, for hands that can steer quietly and humbly and feet that can walk miles and miles in grace's shoe. most importantly a voice who whispers in awe, sings in mighty praise, shouts in adoration, and breathes exhortation.

grace, again

today the babe has cried long and hard, and so has this tired mama. i'm touched out, wanted out, and above all, harsh word-ed out. washing dishes to the smell of these irises found wild in a field near our home (and bluebonnets from our outing the other day), folding laundry to the tune of one-too-many cartoons, and heating leftovers with a tired sigh; this has been my day. and then i read these kind words reminding me Grace really is the glue holding all our broken pieces together.

dandelions

they're just weeds, but they're so important to him. he brings them in sweaty palms, gripped yellow flat by the time they are vased.
would i offer HIM my own dandelions so freely?

in which i attempt a sonnet

as part of (in)courage's april creativity challenge, i am attempting a sonnet. let me first assert my undying love of poetry-it was my first foray into the written word. i wish i had my early poems, but i know, too, i'd cringe embarrassment. let me also state that i do not revel in the purist forms and rhyme schemes, so it really is a stretch to squeeze into a proper sonnet, whalebone corset strings digging deep. i'm not even sure i did anything other than an ababccdee rhyme scheme, but here goes. (oh, you'll also notice its relevancy to my last post. spring is a big deal around here. i'm pretty sure my husband waits with baited breath for my first flower sighting.)

a million shades of green, all new and bright
thawing winter's fast hold on this hard heart
emerald palette dances with delight
Creator speaks spring-story into art.

japanese cherry* gives earliest rise
dogwood, forsythia, wildflower spread-
all speak Truth into doubting winter lies
testify triumph, the Savior, not dead!

new birth, new light, new song: hope glimmers free
fresh air breathes redemption glory won
hardest of hearts, mine, forgive me i plea.
life Everlasting, he lives. it is Done.

a winter heart unwilling with belief
springtime grace, my sin, unworthy, relief.

(* umm, i can't believe no one corrected me yet. the original poem said japanese maple, and only today did i realize i meant to write japanese CHERRY. they are the first trees to bloom pink here in TX and i need them.)

Winters and Wildflowers

spring is official in Texas; the bluebonnets nod their cerulean hellos along roadsides and under happy feet.
this season, our 2nd living here, i am full of verdant hope. last spring i mourned. we were still strangers and i missed the green of home, and the petaling laughter of friends. that first winter was colder than loneliness and soul darkened cloudy and tearful. then, a ray of hope: flowers in march. the royal purple-blue of the texas bluebonnets merrily lead the procession for goldenrod, primroses (my favorite), and other wild groundcover i cannot name yet long to remember well into scorched, lingering days.
last year my heart was winter, and He gave me wildflowers to thaw.
this spring, He gives again.
i take.
i sip.
i rejoice for the day is made, and glad.

mrs. deeds

i'm a little late to the Easter posting, but for good reason; i was out of town and being refreshed with some of my dearest friends. i made it home in time to have a nice easter meal with my own sweet family, and it was almost too easy to forget all about the Reason for the Season (why don't we use that mantra at Easter as well?). at one point i was frustrated and spitting harsh words at my beloved and the little voice came quietly but persistantly: it's not about you, misty. it's about Me, and what I did, for you. my temper tantrum at a broken picture frame? nothing compared to the anguish my Lord felt, hanging on a cross. sobering.

in the few moments my sweet oldest boy let me listen to a different cd than his choice, i listened to an old standby currently pushed aside in favor of ipod downloads, jennifer knapp's kansas. love it. one of my favorite songs, trinity, sings it perfectly: "they profess to know God, but deceive Him by deeds all the while." how is it i get so caught up in the doing instead of the knowing. as meg has oft-told me, we read the bible not so we get something out of it, but so that we may get to know the Author. yes.

i pray i stop deceiving by my mere actions that can barely stand let alone fall, crumpled, at the feet of Jesus. i pray that i not only profess with my tongue that He is risen, but that i live it out loud before my family and those around me. may i be desirable because he is the only reason we have.