I love this time of year. Fall is just around the corner. Ok, so it doesn't always feel like it here where it is 100 degrees for days in a row, but still I know it's coming. Volleyball is starting. Summer soccer is ending. School has started (not just for us homeschooling, but all throughout the state and southern portion of the country). And I am feeling more like myself. Yes, that's how I know the seasons are changing.
Ecclesiastes lists out all the times in our lives are just seasons. We will undulate through them like a raft in the ocean. I find within myself, that when you stay in a season for too long, you lose the raw emotion of the season. We need to move and flow and not become stagnant in our lives. I can't be the only person that feels the tug within my soul to move on to something new. I get this anticipation for what is to come until I finally get into the new season. Lately, I've been longing to create, It always comes with the cooler weather of fall, but this year it hit me sooner. I realized how I have spent more time working on signings and events than anything else. In that time, I haven't had the ability to create. My writing has suffered, my knitting, candle making, jewelry, everything. Last week I began making it a point to create. Every few days I am making something new. And just like that, my soul comes to life. I have found joy in the things that used to find annoying. The season changed. No more running around. No more craziness of life. We settle into our new routine and life is hectic, but enjoyable. I was nervous about volleyball season starting. I felt it came to soon. But by Tuesday afternoon, all I could think about it was that it was time. It was time for something new. It was time to shake the rust off. It was time to come together again and restore friendships. I can't lie, I was dreading the season in June. I was strongly considering not playing. But I know that it isn't me. It isn't me to wuss out. No, it's my season to get on the court. What season are you in? Are you counting down the days until the next season starts or holding on to where you are? There will be a time to mourn and a time to rejoice. There will be times of pain, and times of joy. You will have times of struggle and hardship, but they won't last forever. The highs will be high and the lows will be low. And through it all, God is still God. He is still sovereign. He has designed our hearts to move with the seasons, and He will see us through.
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Some things will never go away. Like stupidity. Ignorance. Stubbornness. All of it. People talk about the evolution of humans, and I can't say that I see much. Through the past few months I have been reading through the Bible from the beginning (as well as doing the New Testament and minor prophets). My point is this, from the beginning of humanity there has been stupidity. Think I'm lying? Eve, and Adam he was standing right there, was deceived by a serpent. Oy. Since then, things have not gotten better. I enjoyed my journey through the book of Exodus. How many times did God tell Moses that the Israelites are stubborn and dumb? So good.
Fast forward through the centuries. There is always racism. There is hatred among nations, wars, violence, hate. And here we are in 2017 lying to each other and saying that we're advanced and better than the people of the past. Again, we watch the news, scroll through facebook, and discuss the horrors of what is happening. We know it isn't anything new. Unfortunately, we only look as far back as the 40's, 50's, & 60's. We look back to the days of Martin Luther King Jr., but it didn't start there. It started when Eve bit that fruit. Evil entered into the hearts of men. Peace and harmony were replaced with discord and anger. So what do we do with this? Honestly, I don't know. All I know is that I can control myself, my words, my emotions, and my reactions. I can teach my children right from wrong. I can show them how to love, but thankfully I don't have to. My children see me and my husband. They see us with our friends of all nationalities. It will take parents to teach that there are differences, and that we love each other for our differences. I asked my son at dinner recently this question: You have four boys at a table. They are all from America, but one is white, one is black, one is Hispanic, and one is Asian. Which one is the best? His answer was this: none of them. I asked him why. He said, because they are all special for being different. Beautiful. I was raised listening to DC Talk. Oh, how I miss them. There was a song "Colored People". On the live album, yes there are multiple albums with this song, one of the members says the words, "I believe that God is a very creative artist." When you stop and think of our skin tones as God's artwork, doesn't it make your eyes open wider? I've never had a racist bone in my body so I struggle to understand the pure hatred of someone based on their skin tone. I can't figure out the reasoning and rationale behind it. Scientifically there is such a minute difference within the DNA that decides your hue it's insane. And yet, we continue to spew word vomit. I believe that the majority of the world has always felt that the color of the skin doesn't matter, but the heart of a man. However, it isn't the consistent, relaxed, standard of living that gets in the pages of the history books. We continue to have sects that do stupid things, and they get the press. We cannot live our lives according to the actions of the few. They may be loud. They may be getting in the way. But they are not the majority. They are not your neighbors. They do not speak for all. Recently I began attending the Women's Sunday School class at my church. Because my husband and I are working so much during the main service with children, we decided to head in an hour early to get some fellowship and Scripture. It's become our new Sunday routine, and it is indeed enjoyable.
In class there became a continual theme - Unity. We were reading through the prayer of Jesus in John 17 and he speaks continually on being unified. So this is where a great deal of our discussions landed. How are we to be unified with God and other believers? How does this process happen? Is it truly possible on earth? Now, at this time I began reading another amazing book by Frank Viola, "Reimagining Church." And by the coincidental (sarcastic) movements of the Holy Spirit I happen to fall into a chapter about unity within the body. AH! It began to open my eyes more. I listened to the questions at Bible study group and continued to read and search and things all started to come together for me. The church is continually referred to as a family. I know, not very dramatic. Let's look at this concept of family. Raise your hand if your family has been influenced by a divorce. Raise your hand if your family has been affected by infidelity, abuse, abandonment. Raise your hand if your family ever had problems. Ok, put your hand back down so you can continue scrolling. The average family has learned about hurt and discord. If the church is to be a family, and we have been taught that family is inconsistent, hurtful, vengeful, broken, it's difficult to relate a unified church to family members. Even from the start of Jesus' ministry there is a point of family. The first 4 disciples he calls, are sets of brothers! I thought that was kind of cool. As I'm sorting through all this in my own life, I read in Matthew how he calls brothers first - Peter and Andrew. I am inclined to think, "Wow, Jesus wanted brothers. He wanted people that knew how families worked when he started his ministry on earth." Isn't it interesting? Of course, I then questioned, "But what about poor Zeb?!" The second pair of brothers is James and John. Jesus calls them and they leave Zebedee, their father, and the boat. Ok, so we are to be a family, but we leave our family to do that. I can get that. But it didn't help me with my unity as family train. What did Zebedee think when his kids just up and left? How did he feel? Do you think he followed as well later on? Was he mad? They were mending nets, after all. Just like his kids to just up and leave to follow someone. No biggie. Well, Zebedee causes my mind to wander, but it's clear to me that God wants us as family. I went to my first Wednesday night women's Bible study this week. I've never had the opportunity to before. I went in with my normal isolationist mindset. As time passed, I looked around the room and realized, this people like me. We've spent time together inside and outside of "church" activities. As far as I know, they aren't talking about me behind my back. But because of an incident with a church member years ago, I have had this thought that I was just a black sheep judged by the others. This lie was planted in my head and has stuck with me for 6 years. For 6 long years I have avoided gathering with fellow believers because I thought that they were judging me. I was kept from my family because of a lie. Sure, I would bet that some people still have their judgments of me, but that is their issue, not mine. I have cared so much more for the unity between me and God than with other believers because I figured it was all I needed. Now, I get to be with sisters. Since Wednesday night, multiple people in the group have spoken with me. It isn't just because I showed up. It's because they actually care about my well being. And crazy thing, I care about theirs as well. The unity we're looking for is family. Not the broken, earthly families that we have struggled with. Our spiritual family has more strength, love, grace, and peace that engages us in unity that we could ever imagine, if we are willing to dive in. Brothers, sisters, join with your family. My family and I recently made a decision. We pulled my son from his elementary school to homeschool him this year, and most likely many more to come.
There are a variety of reasons why we made this decision fall into a main issue, my son isn't the average kid. I know, I know, every child is a genius to their mama. But honestly, my kid is a little different. After finally gaining the privilege to pass through kindergarten, my son sat bored through first grade. I know he learned something. He had to. Still, it wasn't enough. His reading level was dropped after he entered first grade. He spent twenty minutes a day with an interventionist doing 3rd grade math, yet his report card showed items like "M" for "met expectations" on things like "understands the concept of an equal sign." Did you hear my palm hit my head? My son spent an entire school year doing math above and beyond what was required of him, and barely got credit for the math his classmates did or did not do. Frustrating? You could say that. I want everyone here to know, this is not an attack on public schools. You got that? I went to public schools, as did my husband. He teaches at the same public high school that we met at 9 years ago. I am for public education. However, things around here are a little screwy sometimes. First, teachers' hands are bound. I mean, zip-tied, duct taped, handcuffed to a wall, bound. There is so much bull crap paper work, meetings, and "trainings" that teachers do not get the opportunity to teach like they used to. Yes, all those teachers that inspired us didn't get the crapload of junk dropped on them like teachers today, which is how they were so inspiring. Second, the testing! My son hasn't gotten to the point of the continual testing, but I have tutored quite a few. Teachers have been forced to teach material that will be on the tests, verses teaching to the class at their individual levels, like they would prefer. I have seen kids break down into tears because their brains are so overworked by the hours at a computer screen. On the other side of it, teachers are told that they can be fired if their test scores are too low! How ridiculous! So now, teachers teach in fear and they wish, hope and pray that their students show up ready to pass the test just to keep their jobs. Have you ever been a teenager? Could you imagine if you knew how your score would effect that teacher? Let it all sink in for a moment. Third, we are backing GWB with the "No Child Left Behind" initiative all the way. Schools are bending over backwards for children that are falling behind. Any child not up to par - for whatever reason - gets full attention. The children that can do it on their own get a pat on the back. The children that can do even more? Who knows. They get corralled in there with everyone else and go unnoticed. My son got moved ahead because I started fighting the battle a year before he entered school. And it was a battle. I begged and pleaded for special testing. Nothing. It was long fought. It wasn't the school's fault or anyone within those walls. It was the district. The school district had hoops to jump through that took far too long. Around here, the school districts are crazy. When I grew up, the town was in charge of the schools for the town. Here, the district has multiple towns - which are 3 times the size of my hometown easy - and every school within those towns. How can a district function well trying to run all of those schools? Again, things aren't necessarily the district's fault. The state is over the district. The district has so much to handle. How can they focus the proper attention to each school? Knowing all these things, we chose to keep Caleb home. He will be able to handle his curriculum at his pace. If he needs to test his way through 2nd grade math so that he can get credit for the 3rd and 4th grade math he does, let's do it. If we need to have more time learning how to write sentences well, we will. He can learn the way his brain needs to. In the last five days, I have been amazed by his brain. I have been shocked by his ability to do math in his head and solve word problems designed for nine year olds. We made the choice not to seclude him from the world, or take a stand against public schools. We made the choice to do what is right by our son. Drove by a "church" today (rare in SC, I know). The sign read something about youth, another program and "Revival 8/26." Ugh. I rolled my eyes and became sour and bitter once again. Well, that's how others view me when I get like this. Honestly, I'm just so uncomfortable with it all. I thank the Lord above that someone else feels the same way I do. A teacher of mine said, "How can you schedule a revival? A true revival is from the Holy Spirit. How do you know when he is going to show up?"
That is why I rolled my eyes. Who says when the Holy Spirit is going to show up to do something miraculous. If that were the case, than little baby Mikayla would still be awake. I would never have done a crossfit workout. I would have a shirt with her name on it. Why? Because all the people that visited, all the prayers that were sent, the powerful words spoken in hope would have kept that sweet precious girl from passing on. But that didn't happen. The tears, prayers, times of hope renewed right there in the hospital room were left with hurt and pain. If we could control the miracles of God through the Holy Spirit, we wouldn't have lost Mikayla. Still, "churches" continue to put up signs telling us when they will have a revival. Do you think God and Jesus are up there laughing? "Let's send the Holy Spirit to them the Sunday before at the 11 o'clock service instead. Let's see if they still have the service on Friday." Who on earth are you to think that you can tell the Holy Spirit when to show up and revive your "church." Perhaps there's something far worse that needs reviving. *moves soapbox a little higher. stepping up. clears throat* Ok, you see the word church in quotation above. That is because the word church is so poorly misused in our culture it's sickening. Oh how I wish they knew! The word church refers to a body of believers that live within a certain area, ie the church of Rome, the church in Jerusalem, the church of Ephasus. You get the picture. The buildings have been named "churches" because that's where the church was meeting. But even that is wrong. That is centuries of secular world creating an institution of the church body. Now I know that so many people know and understand that the beings of Christians are the church. We meet together for corporate worship gatherings. But the system is wrong. The system we have all over America is a business/educational/political set up. This is not how the first century Christians worked. They didn't go into the temples in Jerusalem after the Jews had their service. They didn't rent out the nearest building that could hold enough people. They met in homes. They gathered together in love. When they ate a meal, they were taking communion. They were together in their lives. There was no pastor. There were a group of elders. Those elders didn't run services, but they helped guide the church when needed. So what did the church do? They gathered in the houses. They ate together. They shared testimonies of God's power and wisdom in their lives. They sang songs, prayed, spoke. Each one. Male and female. They all used their gifts within the body to serve God by serving each other. The Holy Spirit moved in the church providing all that was needed. It's my struggle on a regular basis when it comes to "church." I attend the women's group on Sunday mornings. For as much as I love the teacher, and know that she is a godly woman, sometimes I want to ask her to stop speaking. Sometimes the Holy Spirit is moving in such a way that we don't need someone to facilitate the conversation. We are pouring into each other with scripture and love. We are speaking the truth, and unpacking the scriptures. Throw the outline out. Put the notes away for a different day. Let the Holy Spirit do what is necessary. *puts soapbox away for another day* Who are we to tell the Holy Spirit when to show up? Who are we to run over him when he is leading? Who are we to set time limits and restrictions on the God of our Salvation? I do not have an answer. We need to come together with hearts open ready to receive and give all within the body together. We need to meet and greet each other in love. We need to sit in the silence and all the time to move while the Holy Spirit works through us, as we need to. We are the church, the temple of the Holy Spirit. It is on us, not clergy, to do what is necessary as we allow room for the Holy Spirit to work. Through the last few weeks I have had this continual high. I keep surprising people. My followers (all two of you, thanks Mom) know that I have spent my entire life as a jock. It's in me to be an athlete. I can't live without athletics. I love running just for the head game that comes with it. It's a solo fight. Can I go faster? Can I go farther? Can I do some ridiculous run just for kicks?! Heck yeah!
But lately I found myself floundering in who I am. I feel like I was momming well. I thought I was being a decent wife. I was reaching author status with readings and signings and selling my works. I've been training others and myself. I was little by little getting myself back into crafting. Knitting soothes my soul. Beading fuels my brain. The balance was just off. I find myself writing less. My brain creates these scenes for yet another novel. I try to get it down in time, but I usually miss the moment. That's when it hits me. Outside of this beautiful site and blog, I haven't been writing. I haven't lost myself in that precious space of fictional writing. How interesting isn't it? With everything going on, how can I be lacking? Then it hit me. It's the thrill I love. As I was beginning my upward approach to being me, I found that I love being a surprise to someone. Even as a jock, I had someone ask me during soccer practice, "So are you just one of those crazy athletes that can play anything?" I still laugh at this. I am not a soccer player, but I play hard and pretend like I can. It felt so good to surprise that person. It feels so great when people find out I can create things from nothing; when they look at the athlete and see and artist. People see I've written from Facebook. Then they see my book and the jaw drops. It's a real life book. When people know me as that person who owned the shop find out I'm a personal trainer, they stop, look at my arms, then say, "I can see that." I can't always hide it. But it still feels good to show people the other side of you. Recently, I began going to the women's Sunday School class at my local church body. I always struggle with structured classes. That's a whole different topic. However, I always feel inadequate to speak. Since I published my newest book and knew that God has been pressing me to speak up, I feel I need to sometimes. Though I was hesitant, God continued to speak through me. I saw the looks on people's faces at times. I surprised them. It was as if they never imagined I could know God or the Bible. Ok, maybe not that far. But it was fun to get a surprised look. I felt the power of the Holy Spirit within me. It rejuvenated me again. God used me to surprise someone. In the world of social media, I sometimes feel like there are no secrets anymore. People post their lives on Facebook in vivid details. I know posts based off of children's faces that I have never met before. Line up pictures of 6 people's children and I will tell you who they belong to. I know about people's businesses, eating habits, and extracurricular activities. So knowing that I can still surprise some people? Oh it's a good feeling. I wasn't insulted when I surprised classmates on a Sunday morning. It was kind of fun. It was more than just kind of. It was fun. It is fun. It is fun to amaze others. So try it. How will you amaze me? |
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