masking & unveiling

five reasons I am shutting down my blog

2009-03-13T13:48:00.005-04:00

Just kidding.

There's only one reason I'm shutting it down. It's because I think God wants me to. At least for awhile.

I don't have the words for what this little home on the web has done for me. I tried to say something about it last December, but the words were pale and anemic compared to the fresh rows that have been plowed across my heart.

Next Monday, I celebrate yet another birthday. The years are piling up like dirty laundry in the closet. They must be washed, and the way God is leading me to cleanse them is to write something more. There are things inside me itching to get out on real paper, and as long as I bring my best thoughts here, I cannot gather them for something better.

I could not have come to this place without you, so thank you. And I had a few more posts I wanted to get to, notes about the church and sacrifice and relationships that are scribbled in my head, but obedience can't wait any longer, so the posts will have to.

I'll miss you guys. I ask your prayers and encouragement.

And I do apologize that the last thing I left you with was "No Mo' Breakfast." Because that is just rank heresy.

why I suddenly don't want to go to heaven anymore

2009-03-09T07:37:00.000-04:00

I am trying to think of the right words to say here. But there just aren't any.

five things that will make your marriage last, part two

2009-03-08T14:35:00.008-04:00

I added this to the comments, but I will say it more publicly in a post: I can't tell you how many men have quietly thanked me for the list below.

Most people have focused on the fun, sudden truth of point number five, but there's a reason that numbers one through four are repeated for emphasis. Two becoming one inevitably leads to friction, loss and wounds. The only way to survive long term is to lay your lives down — for as long as you are together — in continuous apology and acceptance.

The real secret of the list?

Wives will never have a satisfying sex life without learning forgiveness. And husbands will find it hard to choose forgiveness without enjoying a satisfying sex life.

As with all eternal things, grace is the lynchpin.

five things that will make your marriage last

2009-03-06T14:27:00.005-05:00

(This, in honor of the fact that Mike is making me get on stage to talk marriage with him in two weeks, and thus I am thinking of such things.)

1. Forgiveness
2. Forgiveness
3. Forgiveness
4. Forgiveness
5. Hot Sex

And my mother closes her browser in horror.

another anvil

2009-03-04T15:46:00.018-05:00

Mike taught on suffering this past weekend at church — how God does, in fact, allow suffering into the life of the Christian for His glory, His purpose, and His plan.

Not the smoothest pill to swallow.

I have always been struck by the response of Job in chapter 1, verse 21 of the book that bears his name: "Then he fell to the ground in worship." This response — after he lost all his wealth, his possessions, and his family.

It seems impossible. It must be allegory. Blind, God-centered, weighty devotion like that can hardly be real.

I recently stumbled across an epitaph recently for a Rachael Grudem, who died tragically in a car crash at the age of 23 back in 2005. She had been married for only three months to a 25-year-old named Alexander, the son of well-known theologian Wayne Grudem.

The stark statement of her death led me to search for her on the internet. But in the midst of seeking information about Rachael, however, I found a more comprehensive picture of Alex.

First: "(His brother) told us that upon seeing her body at the hospital...Alex began praising God. He praised God for being sovereign and for giving him such a beautiful gift, if only for a short while."

Then, I found the audio of Alex's brief, stumbling words at her memorial service. Listen if you dare — it's only about seven minutes. It will seem both quick and like an eternity all at once:

This is what it means to try to find purpose in suffering, to hold to glory when your world has smashed into a million sharp and bloody pieces. This is what it means to show the world that God is faithful and true even when your own heart screams that you should not believe it.

This is God most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him.

I warned you I had a few anvil-weighted posts in the hopper. There are a few more, but it's all leading someplace, I promise. More about that sometime next week.

to be free you have to be good

2009-03-03T07:17:00.008-05:00

I heard an astonishing statement come from the mouth of a secular, impartial guest on CNBC this morning. He spoke about the widening downturn in our economy and the expansion of government influence and regulation:

"We have to come to term with the fact that it's our moral and ethical failings over the last decade that have brought us to this place."

I was reminded of something I once read in a Laura Ingalls Wilder book, of all places. She had just been to a Fourth of July celebration in the center of dusty Dakota Territory, heard the Declaration of Independence read, and sang God Bless America with the gathered crowd.

The crowd was scattering away then, but Laura stood stock still. Suddenly she had a completely new thought. The Declaration and the song came together in her mind, and she thought: God is America's king. She thought: Americans won't obey any king on earth. Americans are free. That means they have to obey their own conscience. No king bosses Pa; he has to boss himself. Why (she thought), when I am a little older, Pa and Ma will stop telling me what to do, and there isn't anyone else who has a right to give me orders. I will have to make myself be good.

Her whole mind seemed to be lighted up by that thought. This is what it means to be free. It means you have to be good. 'Our father's God, author of liberty' — The laws of Nature and of Nature's God endow you with a right to life and liberty. Then you have to keep the laws of God, for God's law is the only thing that gives you a right to be free.'

If society stops being good, it will by necessity stop being free. Don't blame socialism, regulation or big government on the political system, blame it on the failures of the American Church to fulfill its mission in the 20th century and see lives transformed from the inside-out. To fight on the front lines of freedom in our times will be to fight on the front lines of the cause of the gospel.

If we don't, I fear that give me liberty or give me death will become not an historical battle cry, but a prophecy.

five things I would rather not live without

2009-02-27T10:38:00.002-05:00

Assuming the God, water, shelter, clothing, oxygen and bacon stuff is covered and all.

1. books
2. NBA basketball
3. soap
4. my Mac
5. a sense of humor

Your turn.

why your church should stop innovating right now

2009-02-26T16:17:00.014-05:00

I just received a flyer in the mail from one of Orlando's finer restaurants, inviting me to experience its winter prix-fixe menu. The presentation was five-star, but one look beyond the fancy language and typography uncovers the fact that you'll be dining on comforting meat and potatoes. The dessert course offered no pretense whatsoever: "Ice-Cold Milk and Warm Cookies."

Savvy choice.

In our current days of political and economic uncertainty, people are clinging to the steady, the dependable, the familiar. The wise business notices, and the wise church will do the same.

Steady, dependable and familiar doesn't really mean we forego creativity and innovation in delivering The Message — steady, dependable and familiar become the source of our creativity and innovation for this unique chapter in the Church's history.

And the Christ, who is the same yesterday, today and forever, makes my work as a church communicator both easier and more vital than it has ever been.

random updates, edition 15

2009-02-23T09:28:00.001-05:00

Motherhood is the silliest, strangest, most sorrowful road I've ever walked down. The fact that people want to record it in pretty scrapbook pages boggles the mind.

I'm proud to be an American, too, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't punch Lee Greenwood in the face if I saw him.

Our church celebrated its sixth birthday a few weeks ago. I couldn't let that pass without expressing my gratitude to God. And asking for a seventh-year sabbatical.

Speaking of asking for stuff, after 30 days of concentrated prayer, Mike and I both received the same answer from God: now is not the time to move into that bigger, cooler, more perfect house. Rats.

Mike also received another word from God about me: "She must write to know Me." Crazy God, always up in my business. We shall see...

five places I wish I could eat me some lunch at right now

2009-02-20T10:59:00.004-05:00

1. Das Dutchman Essenhaus, Middlebury, Indiana
2. The French Laundry, Napa Valley, California
3. The Breakers, New Smyrna Beach, Florida
4. My mom's Thanksgiving table
5. Chipotle, Anywhere, Anytime

What are you hungry for?

storytelling

2009-02-19T22:28:00.015-05:00

I haven't written much on the blog lately. For one thing, I've been too busy depleting the earth's supply of facial tissue with a nasty little cold. And for another, each of the current post ideas in my head has the emotional weight of an anvil, ready to smash both readers and unsuspecting coyotes in the face. Which would be especially surprising and cruel after all the video drivel that's been showing up here in the last couple of weeks.

Like all mothers, I also spend most of my time doing lots of crap that is both absolutely necessary and completely unappreciated. This paradox has led me to do bizarre things, such as beg a five-year-old to puke in my hands rather than on the clean sheets, or, as was the case today, to participate in schooling my own children.

The boys attend a kind of co-op school, in which they get three days to experience fresh air and an actual teacher, and two days stabbing blindly at knowledge with me. (For the record, I do win out slightly in popularity, but only because of my proximity to the Wii once class is over.)

Today was a homeschooling day, which found me sitting in the floor, working with Connor on reading. As Mike and I are convinced that he is actually a 37-year-old accountant in the witness protection program, he enjoys this about as much as one would enjoy a good skin rash. But we persevered, and together, we read our assigned book:

The Dog The Hog The Rat The Ram The Hen and The Big Big Din.

It was made up of fun sentences like A fig pot sat in a rut and The mad rat bit the hog on the ham.

The idea is, I guess, that if the words stay small, he'll be able to read them all, and thus feel successful. The reality? THE BOOK WAS STUPID. And Connor knew it. "What's the use of working so hard to read," he said, "if the stories don't make sense?"

And then I saw myself in his eyes, striving to whittle the tale of my days down into manageable bits, dumbing the prose of my world down to one-syllable words that won't overwhelm me. I strain myself to sound out the basic phonics of life, when I could just be writing a better — if harder — story out of things, driven to learn just so that I might discover its twists, turns, and fascinating end.

and a little more help for the men

2009-02-15T11:01:00.002-05:00

Via Steve.

I'll be serious again soon, I promise.

don't

2009-02-13T12:09:00.002-05:00

Happy valentine's day. And be careful out there.

five things I would like on my plate if it were my last meal before going to The Chair

2009-02-13T07:40:00.001-05:00

1. fried chicken
2. fried shrimp
3. fried potatoes
4. fried okra
5. voltage-proof body armor

five things I want to be doing 10 years from now

2009-02-06T07:15:00.000-05:00

1. Traveling the world on my book tour (hey, I can dream if I want to)
2. Wondering why I didn't run a marathon sooner (hey, I can be unrealistic if I want to)
3. Watching Clayton leave the nest with grace and purpose
4. Taking a lot more uninterrupted bubble baths
5. And "training the younger women to to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind, and to be subject to their husbands, so that no one will malign the word of God." Titus 2:4-5

What about you?

is it okay...

2009-02-04T07:29:00.002-05:00

to be a Christian and not be involved in a local church?

This ought to be fun.

eyes to see

2009-02-03T19:25:00.008-05:00

I bought new glasses recently, a belated attempt at allowing oxygen to reach my corneas after 25 years of sleeping in my contact lenses. I figure I have to make some healthy choices occasionally, and this seemed more within my grasp than say, jogging. Or giving up bacon.

I'd needed new specs for awhile (my former pair was a dozen years out of date and made me look a little like Woody Allen), but my purchase was spur of the moment: I walked into a store at the mall on a whim and walked out with custom glasses sixty minutes later.

How remarkable, this age and this nation we live in. Everything in an instant. Choices within our choices. If we thirst, we go to the faucet. If we run out, we go to the store. If we want, we buy.

Our needs can be gratified so quickly, though, that there is no need for a God to do it for us. We push away pain and and waiting and suffering as though they are the Worst Things Possible, when in fact they are simply the trial down here that helps us be fit for — and to long for — the eternal There.

Only when I have nothing can He truly be my everything. But all too often, I am content with my one-hour glasses, instead of with knowing the One who gives sight to the blind.

five things I was doing 10 years ago

2009-01-30T08:00:00.000-05:00

1. Freezing to death in South Bend
2. Freelance writing late into most every night
3. Chasing a two-year-old, whom I was sure would be my only child
4. Unwittingly starting a career in church communications
5. Constantly tripping over my fresh-faced, 20-something lack of wisdom

You?

so i finally did this.

2009-01-27T21:02:00.007-05:00

I'm generally not fond of memes. But I've been tagged a dozen times or more for this one, and I'm too weary to write the blog that's on my heart tonight. So Facebook friends, this one's for you:

25 RANDOM THINGS ABOUT ME

1. All of my foreign travel (five countries) has involved missions. In most cases, this sounds a lot holier than it actually was.

2. Apparently, many people think I don’t like them when I meet them. Honestly, I’m probably just shy or preoccupied. Or else I just don't like you.

3. However, I genuinely didn’t like Mike when I first met him. But he grew on me faster than mildew in the Florida July, and the rest is history.

4. I promised myself that I would never marry a pastor.

5. I am not that great at keeping promises to myself.

6. I’m one of those neurotic people who write things on their lists after they do them just so they can cross them off.

7. On my to-do list for life: learn to play the guitar, visit the Northwest, go to an Olympic games.

8. I cannot watch people make fools of themselves on TV, a la American Idol rejects, or that video of the Miss Teen South Carolina girl. I have to physically leave the room.

9. With rare exception, I hate going to the movies. I’d much rather do something else with my two and half hours, and I see plenty of comedy and tragedy firsthand in my line of work.

10. I played classical piano so well as a child that I was invited into a college program at age 12. I couldn’t play a song that well now even if nuclear disarmament depended on it.

11. I almost died at the end of my pregnancy with my first child; Clayton was 2 lbs, 9 oz and was born while I was in a coma on life support. For a time, I considered a lawsuit against the writers of What to Expect When You’re Expecting.

12. And as if that weren’t enough, I couldn’t move a muscle in my body for weeks after I came out of the coma. I went through months of physical therapy to get the strength to talk, write, and walk again. I learned a lot, but I recommend that you just listen to God the easy way.

13. My hair is already more than 70 percent gray. I come from a long line of proud, strong, prematurely-geriatric-looking people.

14. Never-in-a-million-years did I think I’d be a graphic designer. Or do anything artistic for a living. I am so Left-Brained; it still puzzles me.

15. I had a secret, distant romance with someone for years, before I ever met Mike. Wouldn’t you like to know?

16. I've had severe asthma since I was 20. Two little inhalers keep me alive from day to day.

17. I grew up in Memphis, Tennessee. If you scratch me, a Southern Girl will still magically appear and offer you biscuits and gravy.

18. I have a Master’s Degree, and the only thing it ever gave me was the license to say that phrase.

19. I was a band geek in elementary and junior high: flute in the symphonic, piccolo in the marching.

20. I feel most alive when I’m singing.

21. But I have never wanted to sing for a living.

22. I love Disney World with a passionate love. It is the thing that makes living in Florida tolerable. Oh, and all you nice people, of course.

23. I tend to be generous with my stuff but stingy with my time and affections.

24. I was told by doctors as a child that I’d never be taller than 5 feet, and I was always the shortest in my class pictures. But I grew six inches in the summer before high school — and now I’m exactly that much taller than the medical predictions.

25. I could kill you in a game of Trivial Pursuit. Like make you cry. You big baby.

stepping out

2009-01-25T21:08:00.000-05:00

The Adkins kids have all been late walkers, and that's perfectly fine with me — the slower they are, the easier it is for me to pretend I don't have the cardiac health of a catatonic lab rat. Plus, they're way ahead of schedule in so many other vital subjects, such as Perfectly-Timed Sarcasm and Clever Ways to Feign Adorable Innocence. Mother is proud.

Katy Claire's been taking her first tentative steps lately, and over the last few weeks, I've noticed she tries to walk more on Sundays at church than anywhere else. Perhaps it's the unfamiliar surroundings there, or some sort of toddler peer pressure. Or maybe it's just a bigger audience — more people to ooh and ahh over her magically advancing feet. Whatever it is, it's not present at our home; here, she crawls quite comfortably amongst her conventional places and things, dropping on all fours immediately as if to say YOU PEOPLE ARE NOT WORTH THE RISK.

So often my spiritual life is like that, saving my steps of growth and change for the show — for moments when people are watching and celebrating my spiritual success. I do not often appreciate the quiet, private, patient transformation of the Spirit, where He alone is my portion and my prize.

So instead, God will keep moving my boundaries — stripping my comforts and calling me out into unfamiliar places — so that in His mercy I might stagger on to faith.

five movies you won't believe I've never seen. but I really haven't.

2009-01-23T07:15:00.001-05:00

1. Titanic
2. Rocky
3. Jurassic Park
4. Smokey and the Bandit
5. Jaws

I accept the consequence that some of you won't be able to be my friend anymore.

But what about you — anything you haven't done that "everyone" has managed to do?

we all hope for something

2009-01-20T14:32:00.003-05:00

Kem did it; I couldn't resist.

Make your own Obamicon if you like.

too much for a Monday

2009-01-19T07:52:00.004-05:00

Mike spoke about the dangers of the prosperity gospel in his message yesterday, but this video from the powerful, passionate John Piper, who has poured out his life and strength for the glory of Christ alone, cuts me ever deeper with this hard truth:

If our God must add blessing to us for Him to be good and right and for His gospel to be true — it can only mean that He alone is not enough.

happy birthday, Mr. Adkins

2009-01-18T13:36:00.003-05:00

A lot of pastor's wives I know struggle with the fact that their husbands aren't the same people at home that they are in the pulpit. I have the same sort of problem, Mr. Adkins: you're even better in person.

I'm so glad God let me join you for part of your journey on earth. Happy birthday, Michael C.

five websites that could change your life

2009-01-16T07:20:00.001-05:00

Okay, maybe not. But they're certainly making a big difference in mine:

Get financially fit: mint.com
Download an mp3 workout: iTrain.com
Be a better mommy: momadvice.com
Read your Bible: youversion.com
Remember everything: evernote.com

What's your favorite?

in season and out of season

2009-01-15T20:21:00.010-05:00

A man named Sully saved a lot of lives today by landing US Air Flight 1549 safely in the icy Hudson River. A miracle? No doubt. But a quick glance through Sully's bio will also tell you he was also prepared for God to use him to do the unthinkable:

Chesley B. "Sully" Sullenberger, III is a captain for a major U.S. airline with over 40 years of flying experience. A former U.S. Air Force (USAF) fighter pilot, he has served as an instructor and Air Line Pilots Association (ALPA) safety chairman, accident investigator and national technical committee member. He has participated in several USAF and National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) accident investigations. His ALPA safety work led to the development of a Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) Advisory Circular. Working with National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) scientists, he coauthored a paper on error inducing contexts in aviation. He was instrumental in the development and implementation of the Crew Resource Management (CRM) course used at his airline and has taught the course to hundreds of his colleagues. Sully is a graduate of the U.S. Air Force Academy (B.S.), Purdue University (M.S.) and the University of Northern Colorado (M.A.). He was a speaker on two panels at the High Reliability Organizations (HRO) 2007 International Conference in Deauville, France May 29-31, 2007. He has just been named a Visiting Scholar at the University of California, Berkeley.

Sully's wife Lori said she'd often heard her husband say "It's rare for an airline pilot to have an incident in their career." More than 150 people are glad tonight that he lived like he didn't believe it.

I probably won't save dozens of people from a watery grave, but scripture says there are plenty of incidents He's planned for me, too. God, help me show myself ready.

baconlightenment

2009-01-13T08:22:00.003-05:00

I've confessed my love of all things bacon on this blog before, but I've got nothing on these people. And apparently I've been missing the annual Bacon Fest. But no longer, my friends. NO LONGER.

resolution

2009-01-12T06:51:00.000-05:00

There comes a time in every girl's life when she realizes she will never become the woman she imagines herself to be. And for me, that time is every other minute of every damned day. But Lord knows, this doesn't stop me from hauling out my journals every January and setting more lofty goals for myself in the New Year. Yeah, I'm a study in SELF-AWARENESS.

The year of our Lord 2009 began no differently; I spent the entire last day of December thinking and praying about what I'd like to do with the next 365. I set work goals. I set family goals. I set personal goals. I dreamed new dreams, and I dragged past dreams out into the light, sat on them, and dared them to wriggle away from me in the next 12 months.

Planning days like this are an interesting cocktail of optimism and disbelief, because if history bears me out, I'll accomplish only about a quarter of the goals on my list. But the urge to do something — to grow closer, to be more — has been scratched on our souls since God told Adam to be and fill and subdue instead of just sit and stay. There's something sacred about setting apart your heart and setting your face toward a dream. It's the one thing that changes the world.

I realize there's only so much you can do. But there's also so much you can do. In 2009, I'm praying to stay on the holy side of that line.

five songs I can be accused of obsessing over at some point in my life

2009-01-09T07:34:00.001-05:00

Under the Milky Way, The Church
Paranoid Android, Radiohead
Violet Hill, Coldplay
Unforgettable Fire, U2
Natural Science, Rush

And you?

so this is what she breaks her ten-day blog silence with

2009-01-05T07:17:00.004-05:00

Maybe it's because I've been trapped with all the children over Christmas vacation. Or maybe I just miss the A-Team so badly I CAN'T STAND IT.

these are a few of a few of my favorite things: a blog review for 2008

2008-12-25T20:37:00.013-05:00

Come on; you know the tune.

pictures and contests and puke videos
secrets and kitchens and house changing woes
politics, sorrows and bad recipes
these are a few of my favorite things

bats in the attic and silly cartoons
fears and my doubts and my church hopper blues
singing and blinging and diapered monkeys
these are a few of my favorite things

when I blathered
when I lathered
still you read like mad
I'm thankful for you and your comments and love
'cause this year was not
half bad

A very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all my faithful readers.

I'll be taking a little break from the blog till life resumes on January 5th. Unless, of course, something is so scrumptious, I can't help but share.

You know it'll happen.

five things I wish I could get into (but I just can't)

2008-12-19T11:00:00.001-05:00

1. Doonesbury
2. optimism
3. foreign films
4. Diet Coke
5. Size 4 jeans

anniversary, part three: we

2008-12-18T07:16:00.002-05:00

Suppose you know a nice, young, collegiate couple. And suppose that couple has dated for a year or two, debating here and there about the future of their relationship.

Now suppose that, on a snowy Chicago afternoon, you find that couple in an apartment, mired in a serious discussion about the possibilities and perils of matrimony.

The young man says, "I don't think I'm ready for this. We need to take a break from our relationship."

But the young woman knows in her heart of hearts that, if he leaves, he will not come back. There's a long pause, after which she responds, "You don't realize what we've got here, and you're not leaving this room until you promise that you're not ending it."

There's another long pause, and another long conversation, and the young man says, "You know, I think you're right."

And the young couple is engaged to be married just seven short weeks later, and they live happily ever after, though their life looks nothing like they thought it would, in any imaginable way, So Help Me God.

You'd probably think this forward-thinking young lady was entirely responsible for the brilliant success of their 15-year marriage, wouldn't you?

Because I certainly would.

Happy 15 years today, Michael Adkins. I'm glad you changed your mind.

anniversary, part two: she

2008-12-17T06:49:00.034-05:00

Dear Katy Claire:

One year ago today, at an ungodly four-freezing-o'clock in the morning, the hospital paralyzed me, cut me open and ripped you out of my abdomen seven weeks before you were due. If you were one of the boys, I would have tried to make that sound a little more romantic. But Purity Rings be damned; all the abstinence education you'll need is a look at your genetic pregnancy history and a few unemotional re-tellings of The Adkins Children: Why We Found Our Mother to Be an Inhospitable Environment, with Special Sections on Life Both Before and After Birth.

Like your brothers before you, the news of your existence was somewhat of a shock. Your dad and I are either an incredibly fertile or an incredibly stupid couple, something you'd do well to take note of so you can marry up in the gene pool. It took me several weeks to get used to the idea of four plus one.

And then! The ultrasound tech slathered me with ice-cold gel and asked your brothers if they were ready for a sister! She never asked me; perhaps she smelled hormones and fear and decided she'd be better off without her little ultra-wand embedded in her skull.

I was afraid. I never imagined having a girl, never thought I'd have to match socks and hair bows and shoes, never planned on playing dress up and having tea parties.

I never thought I'd see your blazing femininity and be forced to turn and face my own.

I stared at you in your crib at the hospital, shrouded in pink and roses, girlish from the moment the thought of you entered the world. And I realized with heartache that, in so many ways, I met you empty-handed. Me, a girl? I thought. Why, I am just a person. The 70s had taught me too well.

That's why, in a way, you and I are both turning one tomorrow. So, happy birthday to you and to me, Katy Claire. I have a feeling we're going to be the best of friends.

Oh, and one more thing: that crinkled-nosed smile you have — the one you combine with that slight head tilt toward the right shoulder? It's money. Your daddy is stone-cold whipped by it, so don't waste it one day on "can I have a $20 for gas?" Better something like "I drove my car over the Harley" or "my boyfriend is a bail bondsman."

Just a little advice, from one girl to another.

Love, Mommy

anniversary, part one: me

2008-12-15T14:48:00.021-05:00

One year ago today, entirely on a whim, I got bored with my pregnancy ankles and heartburn and bed rest and started this blog. I have learned two Very Important Truths since then:

1) There are some things your husband would rather you not tell to The Internet, and
2) I am a writer whether I like it or not.

For most of my life, I have denied it.

In high school, I stopped mentioning it after one too many You'll-Never-Make-a-Living-Doing-That smiles. In college, I read biographies of authors famous and infamous, and never saw myself in their compulsions to create, or in their self-imposed requirements of so many pages per day.

In my 20s, I pimped out my prose to that john called Advertising — dangerous liaisons of pride, creativity and money that always dropped me back where I was before, standing on the street corner of Dreams and Necessity.

It nearly killed the love of words in me.

But this crazy little blog changed all that. I never imagined it I'd keep it up. Instead it has kept me up, awakening some long-dead part of me that weighs words and phrases "like jewels held up to the light." This year has taught me that being a writer is different than just being a good writer; for the first time in my life, I have something I'd do if nobody cared but me.

Though I do thank you for caring while I figured it out.

a slice of fear

2008-12-13T08:27:00.004-05:00

Hang with me on this one for a moment:

A few years ago, I heard that a child who spent limited time on his stomach as an infant was at risk for abnormal brain development.

Coupling this thought with 1) the alarming rise in autism rates in the last two decades, and 2) the modern medical position since 1992 that a baby should sleep on his back to reduce the risk of SIDS, I unearthed a frightening correlation:

INCIDENCE OF AUTISM DATING FROM 1992:

PERCENTAGE OF INFANTS WHO HAVE BEEN PUT ON THEIR BACKS TO SLEEP SINCE THE "BACK TO SLEEP" PROGRAM BEGAN IN 1992 (as shown by the green line):

Looks like the beginnings of a convincing case, doesn't it?

Trouble is, these are only two of the dozens of charts I found related to these topics on the web. And most of them didn't align quite this neatly. The autism/back sleep link might be a decent theory, and then again, it might not be.

More than 15 years in marketing have taught me to be wary of people who start out their pitch by making me afraid. That's because a slice of anything can appear glorious or sinister.

Everyone is scared about something these days. Wisdom doesn't make decisions in fear, but in comprehensive truth.

five things I've been doing this week instead of posting on this blog

2008-12-12T07:10:00.009-05:00

1. planning a visit from The Cousins (they arrive on Saturday)
2. overdosing on Christmas specials
3. rescuing KC from choking on ornaments. like seriously, maybe eleven times a day.
4. keeping a secret from my husband (shhh)
5. writing a special three-part series of posts that will show up here next week

blessed

2008-12-11T17:25:00.007-05:00

These beautiful images of the kids were taken by Tina Cornett. The Duaflex/viewfinder filter on the photos is something I requested; got a cool creative project in mind. Which we all know I'll get around to SO VERY QUICKLY.

invisible ink

2008-12-10T10:20:00.002-05:00

I'm blogging, honest, I am. You just can't see the posts.

Yet.

five things I will never tire of

2008-12-05T07:10:00.001-05:00

1. Christmas music
2. sarcasm
3. Narnia
4. clean sheets
5. cheese

the grace of the difficult

2008-12-04T19:26:00.005-05:00

In 2009, it's possible I can rearrange my life to shed a few tasks and responsibilities and situations I don't care for — hard things I've been imagining a way out of for some time.

But should I?

I know from experience that it's the hard things that shape me the most. Trial and struggle work to make me more patient, more wise, more true to the picture God has in mind for me. But the heart yearns for the path of least resistance, like so much lazy water trickling its way toward a comfortable sea.

My difficult things are not sinful or harmful, or even that far out of the ordinary. I can make a strong case for why I should leave them behind, but the invisible thread tying the arguments together would be the word easier. So for the first time, I feel compelled to choose whether I will leave difficult things in my life on purpose, when getting out is within my grasp.

I'm not sure yet what I will do.

is it okay...

2008-12-02T22:30:00.001-05:00

to doubt your faith sometimes and still call yourself a Christian?

franicking and other adventures

2008-11-29T22:10:00.007-05:00

I was looking online for some meal ideas tonight when I came across a fascinating, first-person review of a recipe for Lemon Garlic Chicken. I republish it here for you with no alterations whatsoever:

"I'll never make this again. Two weeks ago my husbund called me at home to say he invited his boss to our house for supper that night. I franicked. I just picked my dauther up from school because she had pinkeye and to make matters worst, it was two days before my husbunds payday and we were out of meat with no money to by none either. I dug through the deep freeze and found some chicken and I checked the internet for a recipie. I was in the mood for tangy but I didn't want to fuss because I had to take my dauther to rite aids to pick up her subscription. This recipie sounded good to me and I just figured everyone else on here just gave it a bad rate because they messed it up. I dumped all the ingerdents in the crockpot and said a little prayer. At Rite aids, I picked up a box of white wine. When we came home, it smelled lemon-y and garlic-y. I boiled some minute rice and eggerly waited for my husbund and his boss to come home. When they came home, I had my dauther poor them some white wine. My husbund said she shouldnt because her eye was swolled up but I she washed her hands. After we all prayed, I started to ladle to Slow Cooker Garlic Chicken I over the minute rice I could tell it was going to be a disaster. My husbunds boss "Jeff" tried to hide his discust at overburdensome fragrants. My husbund wasn't speaking to me because he was mad about the wine thing. I could tell he was real mad. "Jeff" ate half and then exused himself for a call and said he had to leave."

She sold me; I won't be making it either.

five things I totally stink at

2008-11-28T07:57:00.000-05:00

1. athletics
2. keeping lipstick on
3. losing
4. ironing
5. apologizing

happy thanksgiving

2008-11-27T07:25:00.003-05:00

Today, the Adkins Five will go over the river and through the woods (or at least over 441 and through downtown Apopka) to celebrate Thanksgiving with Nona and Papa and all the homey, childhood recipes we can stuff onto our table and into our protesting stomachs.

Beforehand, the boys will deliver a few meals to people who need them. And afterward, we'll argue over what to watch on television, marvel at the people who camp out in line for shopping bargains, make various Christmas plans that we may or may not keep, doze on the couch, and punctuate our conversations with memories of holidays gone by.

With all the changes in the world, I have a great fondness for The Same. Here's hoping your Thanksgiving is even half as happy as mine will be.

the long year

2008-11-26T07:05:00.000-05:00

It was one year ago today that I stood in the spare bedroom at my parents' house and watched Death steal away with my brother. Even though he still drew labored, rattled breaths, he was already gone; I felt it without knowing why. But I leaned through the thick air of mortality to kiss his forehead anyway, saying goodbye. I have never felt so dead and so alive at the same time.

I wrote a story many years ago about how much he taught me in life. I am only now beginning to realize a few of the things he will teach me in death.

Sis misses you, Kevin. You are not forgotten.

godly sorrow

2008-11-24T21:26:00.015-05:00

My first "is it okay?" post brought some great responses, which I enjoyed very much. I love hearing what my readers have to say, in spite of the fact that a recent commenter told me — with several deliciously naughty words — that I'm intoxicated with power and the sound of my own voice.

See, I don't approve all of the comments, so behave yourselves out there.

I asked you if it was okay to be a Christian and to be depressed. I think an equally good question would be "is it okay to be a Christian and not to be?"

Periods of deep sadness or mourning are the only human response to the havoc that sin has wreaked on this world through disease, loss, brokenness, poverty, war, fear, greed and death. I think our focus should be not on whether or not to be depressed, but on where our depression is leading us.

I love these words from Paul in the The Message version of 2 Corinthians 7:

"Now I'm glad—not that you were upset, but that you were jarred into turning things around. You let the distress bring you to God, not drive you from him. The result was all gain, no loss.

Distress that drives us to God does that. It turns us around. It gets us back in the way of salvation. We never regret that kind of pain. But those who let distress drive them away from God are full of regrets, end up on a deathbed of regrets.

And now, isn't it wonderful all the ways in which this distress has goaded you closer to God? You're more alive, more concerned, more sensitive, more reverent, more human, more passionate, more responsible. Looked at from any angle, you've come out of this with purity of heart. And that is what I was hoping for in the first place..."

random updates, edition 15

2008-11-24T20:40:00.011-05:00

I've been a bad, bad blogger lately. I even started a conversation about Christianity and depression and then abandoned you. Call it market research.

We had some cool Adkins family photos made tonight; I'll let you know if I look good in them. Because that's all that really matters.

I love cold weather. I don't care that my northern readers are frozen to their underpants so that I might get a small taste of it in Florida. Which pretty much tells you where mercy ranked on my spiritual gift test.

Much of our dinnertime conversation tonight was spent imagining our family's own kingdom, Adkinsonia. I won't go into my personal wish list, except to say that there are shiny ball gowns and crowns, a 35,000-square foot combination Apple store and day spa, and the motto "children are a lovely idea in theory" on my queen's crest.

Don't say you weren't warned: Christmas is coming, and this girl's about to get giddy.

my five most irrational fears

2008-11-21T07:00:00.000-05:00

1. being buried alive
2. being trapped in my car underwater and not being able to escape
3. being stuck on a train track with a train coming (hmm, I'm seeing a theme emerge)
4. banana pudding (so much for the theme)
5. success

is it okay...

2008-11-18T10:34:00.002-05:00

...to be a Christian and be depressed?

everything's amazing, nobody's happy

2008-11-16T10:45:00.002-05:00

five dream jobs

2008-11-14T07:00:00.001-05:00

1. writer-recluse
2. ambassador for Disney World
3. Genius at the Apple Store
4. backup singer for Billie Holiday
5. communications director for church plant

wen over

2008-11-12T22:31:00.001-05:00

In the micro-blog a few weeks ago, I shamefully admitted that I bought an infomercial product for the very first time in Adkins family history. To be sure, Mike is currently thinking about ordering the P90X exercise videos so that WE CAN DO THEM TOGETHER. Which means that if you love me at all, you will come over and eat my DVD player.

I don't know why, but ordering from TV made me feel sleazy way down deep in my soul, with the same unwashed feeling I get when I watch any show currently airing on the CW or happen to flip by a John Hagee sermon. But the product itself wasn't sleazy at all: it was Wen Hair Care.

In the infomercial, Laura Ingalls looked straight at me and promised to get my hair clean without any of the harsh detergents found in regular shampoos. She showed me, right there, how just one use of Wen turned idiots who have three kids and a high-pressure job and who stay up till 1:00am blogging in their sweatpants into women who actually look rested and like they own a comb. And I swear, though you won't believe me, that all 100,000 of my chemically abused follicles made little picket signs and threatened to dump their contents if we weren't one of the first 50 callers.

So I bit, and about a week later Wen knocked on my door. It took me about three minutes to pull down the blinds, rip open the box, stupefy the kids in front of a movie, and give it a trial run.

I was pleased. And the results got even better than night, when Mike greeted me at the door with the sentence "wow, your hair has so much body." I do not think he even knows what that means, but it was enough to make me run into the bathroom, close the door, and make out with my brand new bottle of love.

That was the first day.

On the second day, I was slightly less pleased, but I chalked it up to the fact that my hair has never looked good two days in a row in my life, at least not since I was in 10th grade and would cut off random pieces if they were sticking out funny.

On the third day, I began to look like our house didn't have indoor plumbing.

And on the fourth day, I looked like the Exxon Valdez had docked on my head for shore leave.

Which leads me to these conclusions — my unbiased, yet shamefaced, review:

1. Wen Hair Care doesn't have any detergents.

2. Therefore, Wen Hair Care does not clean your hair.

3. You wen some, you lose some.

flying off the handle

2008-11-10T08:07:00.000-05:00

One of my least favorite sentences came across my screen again last night:

God only gives you what you can handle.

I see or hear something like it almost every week — in a tragic news article, a blog entry, a well-meaning conversation.

A girl could get crushed under that kind of theology.

Scripture speaks of never having more temptation than you can escape, but offers no such promises in the way of circumstances. Telling the wife who has been cruelly betrayed, the family who is facing eviction, or the martyr on their way to the throne that there's nothing going on they can't handle is a spiritual tragedy. It places all the weight on their aching, bruised shoulders and their blood and tears on the hands of our God.

I find that God frequently allows quite a bit more than I can bear. My despair and inadequacy and fear are often the only vehicles that drive me to the One who can handle all things.

these are the facts.

2008-11-08T13:21:00.002-05:00

1. Chad (our worship director at Grace Fellowship) and his wife, Hilary, went to the Coldplay concert last night in Orlando.

2. They did not get me a ticket, so that I might travel with them, and thus enjoy the Coldplay goodness.

3. This happened.

4. Wanted: new worship director.

five smells that make me happy

2008-11-07T07:39:00.001-05:00

1. my mom's sourdough bread
2. Katy Claire's head
3. puppy breath
4. play-doh
5. freshly cut Christmas trees

in God we do not trust

2008-11-04T19:43:00.004-05:00

"The bottom line is obvious to those with gospel eyes. People are longing for Jesus, and tragically left voting for mere presidential candidates."

Mark Driscoll
read more. please.

random updates, edition 14

2008-11-03T22:18:00.000-05:00

I'm afraid that God is calling me to fast from the Internet one day a week. Crazy God. Seems like He could pick something rational. Like oxygen. Or liking people.

Been working out the Christmas budget. You need to let me know by November 15 if you want me to sing you a clever little ditty or make you something out of spare yarn and popsicle sticks.

Katy Claire's personality is emerging: she's dangerously curious, absurdly impatient, and she grunts if not fed in an orderly and rapid fashion. So she doesn't just look like me.

Talk about your distribution of wealth: I have spoken to at least a dozen moms who have secretly raided their kids' halloween candy bucket. Socialism begins at home, people.

I don't care if we elect a Dum Dum sucker president tomorrow, as long as Florida behaves itself, and I don't end up living in the Holding Tank for All the Earth's Morons.

five halloween costumes I have worn in my life

2008-10-31T07:47:00.001-04:00

1. witch
2. gypsy
3. Mike
4. scientist
5. 50s sock-hopper

advent conspiracy

2008-10-30T21:06:00.003-04:00

I registered our church here at Advent Conspiracy, and will tell them the story of our commitment to donate half of our building campaign funds to bring water, food and hope to the poor. Their video below confirms that what God is stirring in us, He is stirring in others as well. It'll make you think about your holidays.

I am so proud of the people of Grace Fellowship Orlando. Keep dreaming about how you can "be rich toward God."

politicking

2008-10-29T21:46:00.046-04:00

It's been a few days since I wrote, and that's because I promised that my next post would be a political one. Frankly, I'm afraid to open the floodgates. You should probably be scared, too.

I went to vote today. I danced a slow dance with people young and old, rich and poor, as Mike and I shuffled for 55 minutes around a library to get our moment in the booth. In some ways, it seemed almost sacred. Holy. Everyone was hushed, focused, deliberate, reverent.

Of course, it wasn't really holy. It was never meant to be. But somewhere along the way, Christianity and politics slept together, had a bastard child of legislated morality and were forced to get married.

For these opposites, divorce can't come too soon.

Politics is all about self-preservation. Make us safe. Make us comfortable. Make us great.

Christianity is all about self-sacrifice. Make us dangerous. Make us holy. Make us less.

The Church has traded its birthright as the hope of the world for a steaming bowl of legislation and patriotism. We have sold our mission of good news for the poor, freedom for the prisoners, and sight for the blind to the world of policy and pundits. We gave up believing in the transformational power of the gospel and transferred our hope to enforcing spirituality through the Supreme Court.

A few days ago, I asked if God could convict different people to vote for different Presidential candidates. I wish I had asked why Christians give more money, passion and energy to electing Obama or McCain than they do to loving God and their neighbor. According to Jesus, that's something He cares about a whole lot more.

I filled in a circle for my candidate of choice today. I was proud to be free and American and to cast my vote. But I chose a leader of my country, not of my faith. Those offices — Prophet, Priest and King — are already filled.

pre-emption

2008-10-26T11:14:00.002-04:00

I really have nothing to say. But logging in and seeing a recipe posted at the top of my blog was giving me the heebs.

I do want to thank those of you who took a stab at responding to my political query — great thoughts. Tune in next time, when I'll let you know what I'm thinking about the whole crazy thing.

pumpkin chocolate chip bread

2008-10-25T07:25:00.001-04:00

This yumminess has become an Adkins family October tradition. And don't let the word "bread" in the title fool you: this is cake. Someone kindly called it bread so that you and I can have a slice for breakfast and feel like we are doing something good for ourselves. Which, in so many ways, WE ARE.

This whole recipe thing makes me feel so very pastor's wife-y. I can hardly stand myself.

Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Bread

1 3/4 c All-purpose flour
1 1/2 t pumpkin pie spice
1 t baking soda
1 t baking powder
3/4 t salt
1/2 c (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 1/4 c sugar
3 large eggs
1 c canned pumpkin
1 t vanilla extract
1/3 c milk
3/4 c mini semisweet chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350º. Butter and flour a 9-inch loaf pan. Combine first five ingredients in a medium bowl. Using a mixer, beat butter in another, large bowl until smooth. Gradually beat in sugar, then eggs one at a time. Beat in pumpkin and vanilla. Add dry ingredients slowly, alternating with milk. Stir in chocolate chips, and transfer batter to pan.

Bake bread until tester inserted in center comes out clean, about 55 minutes. Cool in pan for 15 minutes, then remove to cool completely. Or until you can no longer resist eating some.

tryout

2008-10-24T07:15:00.003-04:00

We treat so much of life as an audition, throwing our best on the tables of work, friends, family, or God — all in the hope that we might be judged worthy for the parts we are desperately trying to play. We spill ourselves out to see our names in the lights of someone else's eyes.

What peace could be ours if we realized that the Starring Role is already taken.

can of worms

2008-10-23T14:05:00.004-04:00

I read something this morning that led my thoughts to the following question:

Could God convict one person to vote for one Presidential candidate and another person to vote for the other? Would He?

What do you think?

five quirky talents I possess

2008-10-23T07:32:00.003-04:00

1. whistling dixie
2. swallowing pills without water
3. singing one song while another is playing
4. bizarre trivial knowledge
5. picking things up with my feet

on success and failure

2008-10-22T18:21:00.002-04:00

"Failure's hard. But success is far more dangerous. If you're successful at the wrong thing, the mix of praise and money and opportunity can lock you in forever."

– from Author Po Bronson, off the side of my Starbucks cup, which just happened to be filled with salted caramel hot chocolate

as if you needed more evidence that the world is ending

2008-10-21T16:50:00.007-04:00

• Mike just went grocery shopping for me.

• Mike just went grocery shopping for me and brought back all the right stuff.

• Chad Wyatt is now blogging.

• I have the windows open. In Florida. In October. Global warming, my butt.

• So far only one well-meaning Christian has told my son that if he asks the neighbors for candy on October 31st, he obviously wants to bear Satan's love child.

• Speaking of that, the atheists are taking it to the streets on London's buses. I'd stick with the Underground; more protection from the lightning.

• Due to a massive up-ending of priorities (thanks in part to ~~brutal~~ insightfully convicting small group teaching), the Adkins are going to get their Sunday service prep work done earlier and take Saturdays off. Next thing you know, Jiminy Cricket will drop by to turn us back into real humans.

five things I've had a little too much of lately

2008-10-17T08:00:00.001-04:00

Bravo TV
pressing creative deadlines
Starbucks salted caramel hot chocolate
antibiotics
Facebook

the God who answers by fire

2008-10-15T16:47:00.001-04:00

I wonder how many of us are praying for God to send rain into an area of our lives, but it seems like He’s turning up the heat instead? - Steven Furtick

Read more....

schedule 101

2008-10-14T22:57:00.007-04:00

People often ask me how I manage my schedule. The truthful answer is "not very well."

But there are three principles I use to help me make as much sense of the madness as I possibly can:

Day by day. Like many of you, I have work things and kid things and house things and husband things that I must do every week until God, in His mercy, lets me go on to glory. To keep me from getting behind and wanting to crush other people's skulls into confetti by Thursday, each day has its own list of jobs.

If the week has extra projects, as most weeks do, I schedule them for a specific day. This not only spreads things out a bit, it gives me breathing room here and there. I try not to worry about Tuesday's work on Monday, and when the day's list is done, I'm done, too; no working ahead, no guilt. Or at least as little guilt as you can have when you grew up Baptist.

Worst thing first. When I look at my daily list, I do the thing I'm dreading the most right up top, when I have the most motivation and energy. The worst task is out of the way, and my day gets better as I go along.

Do-nothing day. I may do 16 hours a day for six days a week, but I'm less likely to whine, to feel overwhelmed, or to procrastinate — at least in theory — when I know that rest is on its way. Due to the Adkins' bizarro schedule with church and homeschooling, Family Day is Thursday, and it's sacred space.

We may do little projects here and there during that 24 hours, but we only choose things that bring us joy. For Mike, that might be polishing the Harley. For me, it might be humming a little tune in my head and imagining a day in which I do not say the words "chicken nugget" or "get your underwear off your sister's head."

I'd love to hear from you, too; what's one thing that's made your schedule easier on you?

with the end in mind

2008-10-14T15:03:00.007-04:00

The email that our children's director sent out to parents this week contained this harmless little quote in the P.S.:

"The child who is given too much is actually cheated out of the experience of pleasure. By allowing a child to intensely want something by temporarily depriving or preventing him or her from having it immediately (delayed gratification), the parent enables the child to experience the pleasure that occurs when an intense need is satisfied."

I saw the opposite of this lived out at WalMart today, where one more mom shoved one more cheap toy in the hands of a lonely, aching, greedy child. And while I can't claim to be an expert on parenting — my kids are still in the experimental phase — watching some godly families I admire has made me sure of a few things:

The child who believes that his agenda is the family's agenda; the child whose parents have abandoned their schedules and dreams and missions to pursue his alone; the child who receives endless treasures and trinkets as guilty love offerings; the child who gratifies his every interest and whim under the guise of life experience and good parenting —

That child is not being fit for righteous, selfless adulthood.

That child is being fit for hell, where the god is self-gratification and the end is self-consumption.

reunited, and it feels so good

2008-10-10T22:26:00.000-04:00

Went to my high school reunion event tonight — a BBQ and football game — and I have only one thing to say:

Time is the Great Equalizer.

five things that drive me crazy

2008-10-10T07:22:00.000-04:00

Sitting still, doing nothing
PCs and the people who swear by them
Tyra Banks
Bad grammar/spelling on signs
Unexpected nuts in food

the lifeless forms of our idols

2008-10-09T18:04:00.004-04:00

The financial markets bleed out onto America a little more every day. The voices of the powerful and the powerless rise together in a chorus of thinly-veiled panic.

Our fear unmasks our idols. If we are afraid because the ship is going down, it is because we have put our hope in the ship.

We have not put it in the One to whom it belongs.

Is effort a myth?

2008-10-08T09:56:00.000-04:00

From Godin.

foreshadowing

2008-10-07T22:56:00.003-04:00

Check out this LIFE magazine cover from 2004, featuring John McCain and Tina Fey. I hope the recent People with Obama and that pregnant man doesn't mean anything.

random updates, edition 13

2008-10-07T10:53:00.000-04:00

My high school reunion is this weekend, and people are trying to get me to come. As if high school was a good idea the first time around.

I've found few things more disturbing than that AXE commercial with the man made out of chocolate. Okay, so maybe the Presidential campaigns.

Speaking of that, today Connor asked me where the word "okay" came from. I told him I didn't know. Turns out nobody does.

Mike took me for my first ride on the back of the Harley. I ought to warn you that it's only a matter of time till I get a logo tattoo and some leather riding chaps.

Just found out the exciting news that the cousins are coming to visit at Christmastime. But of course, that led me to the horrifying realization that it's already ALMOST FREAKIN' CHRISTMASTIME.

happy 75th birthday, daddy

2008-10-05T11:11:00.005-04:00

I know that most of you don't know my father, but when you stop and consider that he's had to live out half of his many years with the knowledge that I am his offspring, I'm sure that you will raise a glass to this man with the RESPECT AND AWE HE SO RICHLY DESERVES.

bailout

2008-10-03T11:37:00.003-04:00

I'm about as fond of cleaning up other people's messes as the rest of you are, apparently. The idea of using my money to pay other people's mortgages or to save some fat cat on Wall Street turns my stomach.

As a Christian, however, my entire theology hinges on two facts: we're all screwed because of one person's mistake, and we're all saved because of another Person's grace. We fall and we rise based on scenarios in which we took no part, and paid no price.

To keep my anger on the righteous side of the fence, I'll need a better argument than letting people get what they deserve.

five things I once wanted to be when I grew up

2008-10-03T08:11:00.003-04:00

poet
Jeannie (as in I Dream of)
nuclear medicine technologist
children's book author
lawyer

we have this hope as an anchor for the soul

2008-10-01T08:33:00.000-04:00

I asked my babysitter an innocent question on Monday, which led to the tale of her husband's sudden death on a sunny day in 2001. She told her story without emotion or a plea for pity, but it wasn't hard to tell how horrific the experience had been. For 30 years she lived the dream of for better, and for eight she's been trapped in the nightmare of for worse.

She sighed as she looked out the window and told me that she stills sees him every night in her dreams, where he gets to meet the granddaughter he'll never know.

This world sucks. I'm glad there's another one.

moving from doubt to faith

2008-09-30T08:54:00.003-04:00

Upon entering the St. Paul Church in Paris, France, this is how one sees the contemporary light installation by Robert Stadler:

When you take your place among the worshippers, the question mark disappears into abstraction. "The...doubt is absorbed by the space.”

This also came via Blankenship. I like people who save me from having to think a whole lot.

sacrifice

2008-09-29T06:03:00.005-04:00

This morning, through the blog of an old friend, I read stories of persecution against the Christian church in India. Dozens of accounts of people killed, churches destroyed, children burned alive. I will spare you the heartache, shame, and horror of a link to the pictures.

I feel sometimes as though I have given everything to plant a church and awaken people to spiritual reality in Orlando.

I have given nothing.

five things I would rather not eat

2008-09-26T11:35:00.003-04:00

The all-new Friday Five. Props to Blankenship.

1. bananas
2. turnip greens (sorry, southern heritage)
3. meat that in any way resembles the animal it came from
4. celery
5. things that are gelatinous

on getting to the point

2008-09-24T07:44:00.004-04:00

I'm told this clip is from the movie Never Back Down. But I swear I've dealt with this gymnastics guy during several scenes in my life.

let my people go

2008-09-23T06:20:00.000-04:00

Pondering this morning why God told Moses to tell Pharaoh "Let my people go so that they may worship me" seven times in the ancient Exodus story.

The teaching I've always heard says this demonstrates just how important worship is to God.

I think it shows how impossible it is to worship when you're a slave to something else.

confirmation

2008-09-22T07:01:00.000-04:00

You must know that I consider Katy Claire proof that I am, in fact, as cute as I've always believed myself to be.

Pics courtesy of the amazing Chris and Connie Kocher.

on the nightstand

2008-09-21T09:19:00.008-04:00

Relevance: Making Stuff That Matters by Tim Manners.

It: How Churches and Leaders Can Get It and Keep It by Craig Groeschel

200 Pomegranates and an Audience of One: Creating a Life of Meaning and Influence by Shawn Wood

finding my voice

2008-09-20T13:59:00.018-04:00

Katy Claire passed the nine-month mark this week. To celebrate, she consulted her copy of What to Expect the First Year and discovered that she should be constantly yelling ba-ba and da-da at the top of her sweet, pink lungs. She apparently read ahead and started throwing some ma-ma in there, too, probably because she knows if she doesn't, she and her ExerSaucer will end up living on the streets.

Even though she's our third to pass this milestone, it's still fascinating to watch her try to find her voice. Unless, of course, she's looking for it while gripping the rail of her crib and screaming WHY DON'T YOU COME GET ME OUT, YOU FREAK EXCUSES FOR PARENTS.

It's a funny thing, though, how we all start looking for our voice before we blow out our first candle. I'm pushing 40, and sometimes I still don't think I've totally found mine.

dreaming out loud

2008-09-17T12:54:00.005-04:00

In January of this year, our staff stared at each other around a conference table and threw out absurd answers to the question “if you could dream a big dream for Grace in 2008, without wondering or worrying about how it would happen, what would it be?”

We spoke from our hearts — from our personal burdens for the church — about what we imagined this group of people in Central Florida could become.

At the end of fifteen minutes, we’d listed about 25 dreams. We then took a few moments to narrow them down to seven or eight things we’d choose above all the others.

Truth must be told: the staff left that meeting, and promptly forgot about the list. No steps, no thoughts, no action plan — just words on white board that were recorded in our staff meeting notes and left to simmer in a file drawer.

We forgot them until last night at our first night of fall staff advance, that is, when a member of our team dug them out and read them out loud.

More than 95% of them had come true. And not just 95% out of the seven or eight key dreams. 95% out of all 25.

Back in January, it was crazy, out-on-a-limb, can-you-be-serious to even utter some of these dreams aloud. And yet here we were, eight months later, in the middle of living them out without even realizing what had happened.

That’s how I learned — with the kind of learning that changes your perspective in an instant — that a crazy dream spoken out loud is more powerful than one kept to yourself. It opens some sort of well of audacity inside you, crushing the invisible barriers that keep dreams in the dark, cowering in fear and irreality.

Dreaming out loud transforms your world, sometimes before you even realize it’s changing.

Jesus freaks

2008-09-15T20:25:00.005-04:00

You're not going to believe this when you start watching it, but just when you think it can't get any worse, by golly, IT DOES.

four good laughs today...

2008-09-15T18:07:00.003-04:00

...and this was one of them. There seems to be no reason not to buy this as a t-shirt.

GodMail

2008-09-14T12:59:00.008-04:00

Yesterday morning I prayed, "God, show me how to be a better designer for your church and your glory."

Yesterday afternoon, this came in the mail:

I'll be watching for the postman on Monday; he'll be bringing a nanny and a lifetime supply of chocolate truffles.

connorisms

2008-09-13T13:56:00.006-04:00

Connor: Mom, I know what the strongest thing in the world is.

Me: What, Connor?

Connor: A boulder.

Me: Yes, those are strong, Connor. But why do you think so?

Connor: Because it took God a whole three days to get out from behind one.

-----------------------------

Connor: Mom, I have a problem.

Me: What's that?

Connor: Well, I said one thing that totally made sense, and another thing that didn't make sense at all.

Me: What were the things that you said?

Connor: I can't remember. That's the problem.

perspective

2008-09-11T23:08:00.005-04:00

Today was an Ordinary Day filled with Ordinary Things — quarrels between the boys, a fussy baby girl, random church tasks, and some last-minute laundry that needed to be washed by tomorrow. These Ordinary Things often find me whining about the mundane, repetitive nature of life.

But compared to seven years ago today, when the whole earth groaned under the crushing weight of The Extraordinary, the peace and rhythm and sameness of The Ordinary drives me to my knees in gratitude.

Tis the gift to be simple,
'tis the gift to be free,
'tis the gift to come down where you ought to be.

no contest, or why I won't be entering my essay

2008-09-09T20:13:00.012-04:00

I headed to Panera this afternoon to polish up the draft of my essay for the Real Simple contest before sending it off by the deadline tonight. Your prayers certainly worked — the words and phrases flowed with comparative ease. I wrote something straight from my heart, and it was as funny and real and compelling as anything I've ever put on paper.

I left before I was totally finished, knowing that after getting dinner together for the family, I'd head back to give it a final edit and send it off. When I got back to my table, coffee in hand, I opened up the file and read it with fresh eyes. I saw it for the first time as a whole piece — experiencing it as if it were someone else's story and not my own.

I saw that the piece was good — really good — perhaps not strong enough to win, but strong enough to get noticed. And without warning, I began to cry a little, right there over my computer and caramel latte.

In my answer to the question "what was the most important day of your life?," I had written about something I have only learned about myself this past year. And suddenly I knew it was too close, too fresh, too raw to be shared. It reveals a place in my heart that I am not ready for the eyes of discriminating editors — or perhaps even my own eyes — to peer into without consequence. And so, I packed up my words and my wounds and my things, and I headed back home to the people who love me most.

There will be other times and other opportunities. I am not disappointed. But I thought you would want to know.

random updates, edition 12

2008-09-08T21:00:00.004-04:00

We're into September now, so it's time for a little fall color. In Florida, that consists of the swirling rainbow of a hurricane on the weather radar and a lot of green mold on your patio.

Still haven't finished my Real Simple essay, and it's due by midnight tomorrow night. I'm thinking of founding a local chapter of Procrastinators Anonymous, but I'd probably never get around to hosting a meeting.

It only took four weeks for my homeschooling organizational system to fall apart. But that's about ten days longer than last year, so I'm feeling pretty smug.

Sometimes I'm really torn about being a mom. The hours, the job description and the lack of positive feedback can wear on you, but the benefit package makes up for a lot.

My laptop battery is just about to run out of life, but I'm too lazy right now to go get the

the unbelievable thing

2008-09-07T13:25:00.007-04:00

I twittered yesterday that something amazing had happened. Now that Mike's spilled the secret, I can, too:

Someone drove up and gave Mike his dream bike yesterday, a Harley Dyna Wide Glide. The coolest thing is that it's his for 18 months — it's a "pay it forward" bike that's moving secretly from "random" pastor to pastor every year and a half in Orlando.

It's small and it's silly, but it's an answer to a six-month daily prayer for me. I wanted to give Mike this bike so badly for our 15th anniversary in December, but couldn't make it happen in my power and with my pocketbook.

God cares about the tiniest detail. Believe it.

in search of good fruit

2008-09-05T07:06:00.001-04:00

A couple of weeks ago, early on a Sunday morning, I made a quick stop by the grocery store to pick up some fruit that Mike wanted for a message illustration. That kind of thing is just one of the asterisked, fine-print items in the Pastor's Wife Contract that you don't really read before you sign up — the Honey, Stop by the Store and Get Me Something Seemingly Random That I Will Make Profound Spiritual Points About While I Teach clause. Weirdest items to date: six giant Hershey bars, one jogging suit, 10 different kinds of deodorant.

I ran in and quickly checked off my list: apple, orange, grapes, banana. And as I approached the checkout, I found myself at the edge of an argument, in which a middle-aged couple was hurling venomous insults at an elderly stranger. They kept shouting as they grabbed their bags to leave the store, their mouths bitter and twisted with hate.

The cashier apologized to the man on their behalf as he rummaged for change to pay for his loaf of bread. She made an odd statement as he walked away: They're always like that.

Always? I asked, and she told me the story of this man and his wife who come through her line every Sunday morning, week after week. As she rings up their pickles and coffee and oatmeal, they launch verbal arrows to provoke religious and political arguments with whomever happens to be in line. They are known by everyone in the store by their bizarre love for spite and confrontation.

My heart moved toward judgment, but before it made it to its destination, the thought struck me hard:

I, too, go into the same places every week. I may not pick fights with strangers, but what behavior do I repeat? Where is the evidence of my heart? Am I known to be the person I think I am?

I looked at the fruit in my hand, and whispered confessions to my God of grace.