To Live Free Or Fearful? THAT Is The Question.

Turning Shakespeare's line into my own is helping me to pound out the truth I know now.  

Sometimes, I get so tied up with trying to figure out  the right words to share what's in my heart that I almost give up.

It was kinda like that with eating right.  The exact moment eludes me as I try to remember when everything changed in my thinking and I began to experience freedom in my eating habits and behaviors.  I believe it wasn't a moment, but rather a daily decision not to give up.  A determination to believe God had heard my prayers  to change me and HIS answer to walk by faith in this area.  Baby steps of trusting Him because I knew I HAD TO do something for my health.

The Rain Came Down And The Floods Came Up

Do you remember that song?  We used to sing it with our kids when they were little because it taught them about the house on the rock standing firm amidst the storm...and it was a fun song!

From Cold January to Cold February

It's been one month since I last wrote a post...and much water has waded under the bridge of my life as well as under the floor in our family room!

Love and I celebrate the entire month of February and with it came special gifts, intentional ways of saying, "I love you with every fiber of my being!"

When Mama's Prayers Literally Change The World

 Prayer is the catalyst to change the world. Even if that 'world' is the place that only your life touches. 

John Wesley said it well:  'Prayer is where the action is."

Early each morning, Love leans in and whispers, "I love you," while I stretch, closed-eyes, and we hug and I tell him to have a great day and to take over the world.

That's how this day began; just like every other day. 

Yes, this man that I love was working on the Friday after Christmas and I was home with not two, but three boys because a friend was coming that day and these twins hadn't seen him in months. 

Continuing to sleep meant a later time in the Word, but Joshie wasn't coming that day and I had longed to sleep...so I did.

After their friend came, they decided to go for a walk.  For some reason, I texted my Love to pray for the boys because they all went on a walk.  I had no idea that THAT day, prayer would be the very thing that kept them safe.  I am convinced of it.

Sitting on my bed, coffee in one hand and my Bible and devotional in my lap, the door flew open and one of the boys yelled for me and asked, breathless, "Is Cory here?"  Now THAT was a strange question since they left together and I didn't think they were playing Hide and Seek!  

Fear engulfed me initially as Isaac proceeded to tell me in a rush how they were chased by five kids. Cory kept running and he couldn't keep up so Caleb turned around to be near him when Isaac told him to just ask the kids what they wanted.  Their response was they wanted their '_ _it', to which Caleb responded that he didn't have anything on him.  One of these troublemakers punched Caleb. Dear Isaac, in response, pulled out his knife, a brand new Christmas present that THIS mom purchased for him! The kid put his hand in his pants as though he were pulling out a gun, but he didn't have one, glory to God~  

All this information came out in a matter of seconds as he headed back out the door to search for Cory with Caleb and their big brother Josh. (Caleb had flagged down a truck and told the driver the kids were chasing them, throwing rocks and bottles at them and the driver told them to jump in and he took them to the corner of Josh's street.) They had run to Josh's, told him and he sped over to our home.  

Scripture says, "If you faint in the day of battle, your strength is small."

At that moment, I had a choice.  Do I succumb to the fear that is attempting to engulf and swallow me or do I speak THAT name, cast down fear and speak life over this situation?  To say I literally felt a tangible fear would be an understatement.  YET, I also sensed a greater strength, despite the shakiness, and spoke "NO, all is well.  Cory will be found, and thank you, Jesus, for your protection on the boys" or something similar.  It happened so fast, I honestly don't remember.  But I do remember faith rising and fear fleeing.  

What seemed like an eternity ended rather quickly.  I called the police, the driver of that truck also called, Cory had called them, and Cory's dad did, as well!

Cory texted me the address of the bushes he was hiding in after I texted him and said, "Where are you?" As I headed over to Cory, I spotted Isaac in the middle of the street, so I flagged him down and we picked up Cory.  

The boys pointed out the truck that had helped them and the driver told me the police caught the kids. He told me where they all were and I drove over there (the momma bear was now on a rampage!)  I introduced myself to the officer and he politely told me to go home, that they would catch up with me when they were finished dealing with the boys.  I left, but not before I gave each one of them a good look over.

...Part of me wanted to give them a hug and say, "I'm sorry your parents don't care about you and you have no motivation in life...let's get together and I can help you because I'm a mom and you need a mommy...and another part of me wanted to go over and smack each one so hard for messing with my sons and their friend!

The twist in this story is that I'd been asking God to reveal Himself to the boys for a while now. Being homeschooled, their involvement with 'the world' has been very limited to what they watch in movies and the things we speak about.  I have to believe that in God's grace, He protected them, revealed that one has to be wise, discerning and I am so proud that Caleb calmly stood up to them and did not retaliate.  Five or even three against two (two of the kids were probably around thirteen yrs. old!) aren't good odds.  The detective told them they did the right thing.  

A mother's heart is to protect her kids.  I get that.  I got that.  But that day, I also learned that they can't be protected from everything and that God is able to keep them.  I need to equip them with truth, not knives, and then PRAY!  Thankfully, I did that.

A detective came to our home that day.  He spoke to both boys, and then left and came back an hour later. He told us the boy that hit Caleb was only fifteen so he couldn't even talk to him.  

He spoke into their lives.  He reminded them that the world isn't like it was when he carried a knife and a gun in his truck to shoot squirrels.  He said, "You guys aren't turds.  You're good kids.  Stay away from that area and don't go near the drainage ditch!  Inside, I was cheering.  This was another touchy subject with Isaac that I finally was able to say, "See, I told you!  NO drainage ditch ever again!"

This is what entrusting our kids into God's care is all about.  I knew this time would come,  But I also know whom they belong to...it has been a daily habit of praying for them, something I'd not taken too seriously when they were younger. 

Regrettably, one of the boys drove by with a parent or some adult while we were outside that day and now know where we live.  This has been a constant battle to cast down fear.  I choose nightly to believe and agree with  my "PS. 91" weaponry to fight against any attack!  Do I struggle with this?  Absolutely.  But am I going to live in fear.  Never.  I wake almost every night and pray...for protection, for whatever fear is hitting me and then I eventually am free and fall back asleep.

While it would be nice to hide away and keep the boys 'safe', it's not healthy or wise.  

Caleb began his first job today at Taco Bell and tomorrow Isaac goes through the same training.  

They're growing up and that is a great thing.

May we continue to equip them to stand strong. 

May they discover on their own that God is faithful, able and more powerful than any attack or lie. 

These times have drawn us closer as a family and opened doors of great communication between all of us.  I can't describe how grateful I am that, despite the struggles, what the enemy meant for their/our harm has only served to reveal  the truth that we love them and are for them.

Raising kids to love God actually means great challenges, tests and at times, sorrow.  

But God.  

Is He not the most perfect Father? Yet, He has kids that are selfish, lie, indulge, disobey but He pursues them, believes the best, never gives up and His love never fails.  

What a great reminder when I want to hold my kids up to a standard that I don't always keep myself.  

Grace and Truth...the next post...as I'm learning how to flesh that one out.

On being a sponge of Grace

This month, the calendar isn't full.  It doesn't 'look' like I'm 'doing' anything.  But when I reflect on just this past week, I stand in awe of the ways God has orchestrated my days. 

As I awoke early one morning, I began to thank Daddy for everything I could think of.  Then, he and I lingered in the garden long and He drew me close.  The 'happy cry' continued all day.  One of the twins asked me to stop crying because it was making him depressed!  I reminded him it was a happy cry...he reminded me he had no idea what that was and to please stop!

As a sponge can only hold so much liquid, His love began to spill out of me...Sean, the college student that came to the front screen door on Wednesday afternoon was one such recipient of that Love.

 
At first, I half-heartedly listened as he told me with a very rushed voice that he lived down the street,  played soccer and their team had won the state champions. They were now going to nationals and needed to raise money to go to Hawaii.  The kid, around twenty-one, was lanky, had a cute smile and reminded me of my nephew, Jacob. I was intrigued by his candor, friendliness and determination to win me over.
After he finished speaking and finally took a breath, I asked him to tell me again, but this time a little more slowly.  His story stayed the same.  He told me he was a military brat and that his dad and mom were 'making him' go out to raise money because he would appreciate the trip more and there were a couple of teammates that weren't as privileged as he, so he was helping them out, too.   I gave him money for the magazines he was selling and then I peeked around the screen door and asked him this:

"So Sean, may I pray for you?"  His response, "Can I ask you to?  Funny you should say that, because I am asking all the people that help me to pray that our team wins."  I stepped outside and grabbed this young man's hand and began to pray for him. Did I pray his team win?  No.  I asked Daddy to open blind eyes to see His goodness and greatness. I could sense he felt uncomfortable, but he let me finish and he high-tailed it down the front walk faster than a cat being chased with a water bottle!  I hollered out, "Sean, I got your back covered!"  He yelled back, "Thanks sweetheart!" 

He's now on my prayer list!

Then there's Frank.  He's the plumber that came yesterday. 
Frank is in his mid-fifties and when he was finished with the job, I commented how he did a lot of running around. Somehow, God knows, the conversation turned to his eternity and he said he planned on going to heaven because he was a good person...then he asked: "So how do you know?"  Could I have been handed an easier opportunity?  I think not!  So, in less than thirty seconds I gave him the gospel...

He, too, is on my prayer list!

In the past, I struggled with sharing the gospel because I was home all day, everyday and felt inadequate.  There go those feelings again controlling me.  Well, what I've learned over time is that God loves me.  I mean He really loves me and that love has drawn me to Him with an insatiable desire to know Him and to make Him known.  

There have been many guilt trips when I'd be standing in line at the grocery store:  "You need to share Jesus."  My heart would begin to race, the sweat glands would go berserk and the pressure would be on.  I would say something so ridiculous or religious that it might have been better if I'd have wet myself because then, at least, the individual might have had compassion on me.  But no, it was rather a work of the flesh, attempting to live by the Law and I'd walk away ashamed for blowing it one more time.

Now, after years of flailing, things are different.  I've taken baby steps and listened first.  I am still stepping out in faith, but rather than spewing just words, I'm waiting for His anointing to bring Life.  When the doorbell rings, He is calling me out.  When the plumber shows up, He's inviting me to watch and pray.

It is simple.  So simple I've stumbled over it time and again.  I am just joining Him in His work.  It's a holy work and my everyday living out His purpose for me means that I am available. 

But what good is being available if I haven't lingered in His presence?  What do I have to give if He doesn't give me His love?  And if He hasn't given me anything for the day, is it because I've made everything else more important than Him? 

There is nothing more important than being with Him.

Abiding.  Simple abiding, drawing near.
A quote I wrote in my journal on November 2, 2008:

..."I love removing myself from all possible distractions for the purpose of placing myself in the presence of the living God in a uniquely unfettered way."  





He doesn't need me. 

I need Him.

I am finding such delight in just living in His presence that sharing is as natural as morning glory tendrils stretching toward a fence.

This weekend, linger longer.

His love is attractive and the the fragrance He spreads through you will be eternal.

Sometimes Tea bags tear!

Early morning a couple days ago, after finding an organic tea bag in my desk drawer the previous day,

I softly tip-toed to the kitchen, anticipating solitude with a cup of peach deliciousness...

Then it happened...

In the rush of getting back to the solace of my room, I ripped open the packaging and it was too late: 

 the bag was torn...

I didn't have anymore herbal bags in the cupboard, despite my search for JUST ONE MORE BAG!

So, I did what any herbal hungry tea bag drinker would do...

I fixed the problem.

I almost felt like I won.  Won what, you may ask?  Well, I got my drink, and I somehow kept that clothespin out of my cup...not completely, but long enough that germs didn't have a chance to brew!







If you're just slightly curious as to why I'd post about my tea bag, let me tell you...

Life is like a tea bag...

delicate

needing a gentle touch

and... 

if simmered just the right amount of time,

DELICIOUS!

Sometimes, things in our life are torn, seemingly wasted.  Unexpected changes come and similarly to a torn tea bag, we could very easily just throw that bag away, not considering that perhaps the very circumstances we're facing are just opportunities to look with new eyes...
to taste and see that the Lord is good.

Since Sunday night, my dad has been in the hospital and the responsibility of caring completely for my mom, along with homeschooling meant that I needed to be better prepared.


Now, it's not like I've not done that before, but Sunday's message had been stirring in me and I'd been asking Daddy to reveal where I'd been 'faking it'...and the one area that I struggle most with is knowing the truth and yet tripping up in the same general area of joy in the journey as well as running this race by myself, and then when things don't go just like I think they should, losing my sense of reality...turning Dr. Jekyl into Mr. Hyde...

Monday night, as I dropped into bed, failure swept over me like a cold blanket, dripping with guilt for my impatience with the challenges I faced and frustration with the boys for being thirteen and 'don't they understand what I have to do here?'  A 'head banging' pity party was about to break out right there on my pillow...
But God, He has a way of  using the simplest things in our life to teach us about Him, His heart in matters that have eternal significance.

Joy comes in the morning...
His mercies are new every morning and boy, did I need to hear Him for this new day of challenges...

So, Tuesday morning, I loaded my breakfast plate with Bread from Heaven...

Paul writes:
" For I am afraid that when I come I won’t like what I find, and you won’t like my response. I am afraid that I will find quarreling, jealousy, anger, selfishness, slander, gossip, arrogance, and disorderly behavior." 
"Examine yourselves to see if your faith is genuine. Test yourselves. Surely you know that Jesus Christ is among you; if not, you have failed the test of genuine faith."   
2 Corinthians 12:20; 13:5-6

He already knew about these residual side effects of my humanity trying to choke His word and He lovingly rebuked me for each one. 

But for the blood of Jesus, I am hopeless. 

Because of the blood of Jesus, I am free.

 

Free to repent, free to love, to be loved and move forward in grace.

Should you be facing a 'tearing' in your life, or perhaps a stretching that you think,

"I can't do this.  I can't go on one more day"...

Get a tea bag, a slice of bread and sit in a quiet place listening, drinking in the Truth and eating His Word.

He is pursuing you. 

He knows you can't do it.

He gave His promise to change YOU, not necessarily your circumstances.

Having dad in the hospital has given me the opportunity to see things from his perspective...his everyday caring for mom, all the work involved in her care. 

My dad is my hero.

Join in with those who have habits that bring Life:

Truth brings pain, yet Freedom

When I awoke this morning, I had no idea how Daddy would speak to my heart...I didn't even need to leave my bed!

My amazing Caleb read Fredrick Douglass' autobiography to me this morning while I worked on a Christmas gift.

Douglass, a very prolific writer I might add, describes how he learned to read and write. He wrote of his unbearable pain associated with the understanding because he could read, for the first time, the condition he was in for the rest of his life. This knowledge made him want to die. He saw no way out at first and hatred began to grow inside him towards his owners.

It was actually his mistress who began to teach him to read until her husband told her to stop teaching him! His comment was, 'once a 'nigger' could read, he was useless as a slave'. She stopped, and over time became a 'hard as stone' woman and treated Fredrick very harshly.

He, although only about seven or eight years old at that time, understood that his master knew something that was true and from then on began to teach himself to read.  At 12, knowing he needed to learn to write in order to make his own ticket to freedom, he began copying his master's son's copybook until he could write just like him.  He did some other amazing things to learn, but you'll have to read the book yourself!

There's much more to this story. It's an 'easy read'-- short book to read--but far from easy to read as he describes the brutalities and injustices he witnessed and penned about fellow slaves.

What intrigues me about this man, his story, and as we finish the book, the freedom he gains, is when he came to the place of utter hopelessness and desperation; it reminded me of what happens to each person that comes to Jesus.

We all have to face truth and, with it, a sense of pain. We are a slave to sin. We can't change that, no matter what we do in our own strength and ability.



I personally remember the pain associated with realizing that I was lost and deserved hell. I saw my sin. It was so ugly. I knew there wasn't anything I could do to change my heart. I couldn't try harder, confess my 'badness' enough to be clean on the inside, or work harder to get rid of who I'd become. The root of sin that I was born with had grown into a tree of selfish, self-centered wickedness and I needed to be born-again with a new nature.

Knowledge of my sin brought pain, and yet, it was in that pain I was freed from that sin. Freedom came from someone other than me.  His name is Jesus. His pain, suffering, death and resurrection bought me back from the slave block. That was the solution. He died to rescue me from the clutches of slavery to sin and to give me a new nature, His nature.

Just as Fredrick Douglass was born into sin, so was I.

"     "...God does forgive. But it cost the breaking of His heart with grief in the death of Christ to enable Him to do so. The great miracle of the grace of God is that He forgives sin, and it is the death of Jesus Christ alone that enables the divine nature to forgive and to remain true to itself in doing so. It is shallow nonsense to say that God forgives us because He is love. Once we have been convicted of sin, we will never say this again. The love of God means Calvary--nothing less! The love of God is spelled out on the Cross and nowhere else. The only basis for which God can forgive me is the Cross of Christ. It is there that His conscience is satisfied.      Forgiveness doesn't merely mean that I am saved from hell and have been made ready for heaven (no one would accept forgiveness on that level). Forgiveness means that I am forgiven into a newly created relationship which identifies me with God in Christ. The miracle of redemption is that God turns me, the unholy one, into the standard of Himself, the Holy One. He does this by putting into me a new nature, the nature of Jesus Christ."        ~Oswald Chambers

We're all born as slaves, but we can be free and soar because He rose from the dead.

As I prepare to be thankful for more than food this coming Thanksgiving,
I am undone by His sacrifice for me.

Grace alighting today~

Asking for grace is like asking for patience!

The battle began as I lay praying for strength to get out of bed.  I know the power that raised Jesus from the dead lives in me; therefore, if I am to walk by faith, then up I get and drag my tired body to the shower to pray, wash and wake up.

Then I wake the boys-a change I made because I want to be the first one to see their faces and greet them. 

I head to the kitchen to make breakfast and as I take the milk from the refrigerator, suddenly a tall cup begins to spew dark liquid all over the fridge and ceramic tile floor...it isn't even 7:30 and already my opportunity to walk by faith, count it all joy has begun.  Coffee that Love thought would be good the next morning...without a cover. 

Forgiveness, joy, and power that gives one peace amidst apparent disaster! 

So, I pull out the sword (can you see the capital S cape I've whipped out of my back pocket for just such occasions?), and begin to speak His Word, albeit under my breath...

"Count it all joy when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience and let patience have its perfect work, so that you may be perfect and complete, wanting nothing..." (a mixture of several versions I've memorized!) 
"The joy of the Lord is my strength."
"In everything give thanks (as I'm wiping up spills that are hidden way in the back), for this is God's will for you!"

Whew, I passed that test...

Ok, so they came in waves ALL DAY! 

For the last two days, mom has poopooed every thing I've made...today, it began to get on my nerves...I reminded her that 'this isn't a restaurant and I'm giving you what we have'...that didn't change her mind...then I told her she had to eat...that didn't work...then the boys decided they didn't want to eat either...now I'm beginning to see the attack...

Soooo, I begin to pray.  She eats, they eat and I clean up lunch.

In and out of the back door...momma wants to go outside, then in ten minutes come back inside...then piddle, then go back outside, then come in...I'm beginning to see the need for much more grace...so I pray for it...

Duh, grace is available here:

 'when I'm weak, then He's strong'.  

So, 'God, I'm sensing the weight of weakness take me down a path of self-pity that isn't going to help anyone.  I'm going around in circles in this house and getting NOTHING 'done'. Become my strength, please.' 
Oh, wait, I'm being Your servant, living out a lifestyle of grace...am I actually getting this thing?

Ok, so far, so good. 

At about 2:45, I feel ill.  I have a low grade headache, and I'm suddenly exhausted.  So, I tell my dad I'm heading to bed for a little nap...no sooner do I hit the bed when I'm chilled, the headache has turned to a migraine and all my joints are screaming in pain and I want to throw up!   I tell two boys to fold laundry in my room to be near me while I lay on the bed. 

Realizing I didn't speak to Love at lunch, I have one boy bring me my phone and see I have a voicemail from him...so I have the blonde Lego designer call his dad and tell him to pray for me. 
Immediately he calls and dad promises to pray.  I sleep.

When I awake to Love peeking in on me, I feel a little better, and he offers to give me some pain meds.  As I lay waiting for a cup of caffeine to help, I realize the enemy is working overtime today for some devilish reason...as though he needed one! 
Well, I know the same power that raised Jesus from the dead lives in me, so I begin to pray/ fight for health, victory and no more wasted time in this already 'useless' day!  I got up and began dinner!

By 5:30, the migraine is gone, everyone's bellies full and shared their highlights. 

God is good, faithful.

"For our present troubles are quite small and won't last very long. Yet they produce for us an immeasurably great glory that will last forever! So we don't look at the troubles we can see right now; rather, we look forward to what we have not yet seen. For the troubles we see will soon be over, but the joys to come will last forever."

Taken in my yard while I rested from working in the garden. He alighted when I least expected him to. 

Just like grace.

 

...Where Do I Begin?...

Let's see. First off, my mom is in the hospital for the ninth time this year, I think !...then there my new website : Designs by D.A.U.N.E and eventually, when I make some money and get rid of the ads on the page and have more storage space, I'll sell my photos as well. But until then I'll let that go...('focus, Daune, focus...')
But the most wonderful thing to share is that:

I'm going to be a gramma again!!!!

While searching the thrift store for "Batteries Not Included" (which we never found), I got a phone call and the funny thing is that when I heard Rachael's voice, for some reason I knew what she was gonna tell me...we couldn't be more delighted and thrilled! Trinity Faith will only be thirteen months old when either Preston Allen or another little red-headed girl comes on board!

Is she ever gonna need me and am I ever gonna need her! God is in charge of that department.

Today I was thinking about the criticism I've received for leaving family and traveling this far to follow my husband.

On the surface, it looks like I am selfish and don't really care about my family-ie. my parents, daughter, grandchildren, friends, etc...but, the truth is that I care deeply, but if I care more about them and what they think than I do about Fearing God and obeying His Word, then I am not fit to follow Him. I am not going forward if I focus on what I left behind. My focus is on where I am today, what my husband's purpose is and how I am to position myself to serve Him by Serving him. 'Wives submit to your husband as unto the Lord..."...to the degree I serve my husband, that is the degree I am serving Jesus.

I suppose this is what Grace is all about. My heart is at peace to be here with everyone I know dearly and love deeply up there. Unless one experiences it, it's difficult to explain.

These are just some of my ponderings lately...

Thanks for sharing them with me ;o)

daune