Category: Reflection Stuff

Dec 30

The Baby

So this year was more emotional for me during Christmastime after I heard Andy Stanley say on a podcast that one of the reasons we know Jesus was real is because no man would create a story about God coming to Earth in the flesh as a baby. I’d heard that a few times, but it sunk in with significance this year, and I let myself feel the weight of it.

A baby. A helpless, vulnerable baby. Born in a manger, no less. Born as the least of these, to the least of these. 

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That story truly is no man’s creation. We know that by the movies we watch and the visual we get when we think of a King. More Goliath sized than David, for sure. Our Savior, the one we create, isn’t born to scared yet faithful parents, but instead comes in a fury. He appears to us from a storm, and he comes with a vengeance with no mercy. He is strong and powerful. He isn’t born in the dirt.

That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!

Dec 03

Where is God?

psalmThese are hard times, y’all. The violence is almost unbearable to watch. As I drove into work this morning on this blustery day, I thought about what I would say to those who don’t believe. Truth be told, even the devout have times where they struggle to reconcile the tragedy around them with the belief in a good and loving God.

As I watched the leaves blow, I thought about God. How I cannot see Him, but I can see the results of Him. Despite not being able to visually see wind, we know it is real because we can feel it. We can see the beauty it creates in its power; how it bends objects in its weight. We see how it changes the things it touches. We feel it on our face on a hot day, providing respite from the heat. We feel it in the winter, stinging our face, urging us to go inside. It exists. It is invisible yet undeniable; beautiful and healing; destructive and powerful.

That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!

Nov 04

Living with Hooligans

Over lunch with a vendor who doesn’t have kids, I remarked that having kids is like living with drunk people. Please see the examples below for backup to my theory.

Exhibit A: they sit in weird positions.

Exhibit B: they are really rude.

Exhibit C: they dress oddly.

Exhibit D: they dance on tables in their underwear.

Exhibit E: they do not understand physics.

Exhibit F: they think they are more musically inclined than they are.

Exhibit G: they sneak into your cabinets with the munchies.

Exhibit H: they are overwhelmed with your nonsense logic and reasoning.

Exhibit I: They are emotionally unstable.

So, fellow roommates of miniature drunk people, cheers to you and your child wrangling. For those of us that may regret “celebrating” too much in college, stop beating yourself up and consider that time “wasted” as a sort-of dress rehearsal for having children. Don’t worry, mamas of littles – you’re doing great.

Aug 19

The Family Picture

familyGrumpy Preschooler arrived home the other day with her packet of papers, eager for me to see them. As I flipped through them, proud of her work, I got to the last one – a picture she’d drawn of a little person and two taller people. I asked her what the picture was, and she replied “our family” and smiled. I asked–with trepidation–where Sissy was, and I felt my heart actually wrench (can hearts wrench?) in that moment, when I heard her reply softly, “At [her dad’s].”

And there were depths of my soul that actually hurt in that moment.

Happy Blonde, who is 11 now, has always lived primarily with me, and since her (very involved) father lives in a different jurisdiction, she sees him every weekend. This summer, we essentially switched custodial status, and she spent Monday – Friday with him, and weekends with us. It was my first taste of being a non-custodial parent–and it was awful. I learned the gritty part of it – how quickly the visitation goes by, how hard it is to readjust in a short period of time, and how it’s nearly impossible to have a child on weekends feel like they are part of the working household. It’s hard to mold them and discipline them, because you hardly want to spend what little time you have picking battles.

That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!

Jul 10

Help

I read a post by a friend the other day, in which she stated her excitement for the opportunity to help a neighbor who was sick and asked for help getting her kids home from school. I know that feeling well – excitement that a friend is asking for something they need, because I am much better at following instructions than I am at anticipating needs. It actually made me think of Toni, a woman who, while serving in the infant room, took a particular interest in Grumpy Preschooler. I remember Toni saying several times that she’d love to watch her for us, and I remember only taking her up on it once. I also remember being so overwhelmed with a demanding special needs infant and a husband who worked 90 hours a week that there were days I just sat and cried because I felt like I was drowning. And now that I serve in cradle, I know I totally mean it when I say I would love to babysit, and I know Toni meant it as well.

That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!

Jun 27

Obergefell v. Hodges

On June 26, 2015, SCOTUS released their finding in Obergefell v. Hodges; their ruling was that Fourteenth Amendment requires a State to license a marriage between two people of the same sex and to recognize a marriage between two people of the same sex when their marriage was lawfully licensed and performed out-of-State. This changed precisely 13 of the 50 states; the rest had already legalized it.

It was, without argument, one of the most devastating blows to the Christian community I have ever seen.

Not for that reason, though – not because boys can marry boys and girls can marry girls, but because what little community still identified as Christian turned decidedly against each other in a hateful attack of unbelievable proportions. It stunned me and as I sat reading the responses, I became completely incensed, shaking in disbelief. The anger. The rage. The hatred. You know, just like Jesus was. Oh wait a second…

That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!