Having kids makes you crazy. If I was really smart, I’d do some kind of study on how many brain cells a person has before kids and how many after you’ve made it through each year of them. Someone probably already has done that—someone who doesn’t have kids and can remember 2+2 and algebra and dangling prepositions and all those other things we learned long, long ago.
Well, since you asked...
Several weeks ago I was going on a trip and could not find any of my tweezers. None. Zilch. Nada. I looked everywhere. I left thinking I would look again when I got home. Halfway through my 10 day trip, I looked in my make-up bag and found a pair. I sooo don’t remember packing them. I don’t know whether to claim it as a miracle (doesn’t God say he knows the hairs on our head? Maybe this was His way of telling me I had several eyebrow ones I needed to pluck immediately) or to chalk it up to being 40.
Then, I came home and a few days later, and another set appeared in my bathroom drawer—the same stinkin drawer I had dumped out several times before leaving on my trip and had not seen them. This time, I figured Brian or one of the girls remembered they had “borrowed” them and quietly returned them, hoping I’d be so overjoyed at the thought of “finding” them, that I wouldn’t think to question how they got there.
Yesterday, I opened that same drawer, and another set had appeared. I double-checked to make sure the ones I found on my trip were still in my new hiding place (if you have girls, you will understand why you need to constantly find new hiding places for valuables). They were.
I really think my girls are conspiring so they can declare me incompetent and steal the fortune in jewels I’m hiding. :) Really, they are probably just hoping for the Target and Sam Moon stuff in my jewelry box—they’re not teenagers yet.
If I were a glass is half-full person, I’d just be thankful that now I have 3 pair of tweezers again. Instead, I’m trying to figure out a way to rig a video camera up on the drawer to see if they stay in there.
They left for a short trip today and I just realized, they repacked their suitcases after I checked them last night. I’d better go take inventory—they might have stolen my blow dryer…
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
As we were scraping the paint off of a door, one question came up over and over. “Why don’t we just buy a new door?” New doors are pretty and come in all kinds of colors and stains. And this one was a lot of work.
If we would have bought a new door, here’s what we would have missed:
· The chance to be used to bring out the inner beauty of the current door
· The laughter and frustration that goes into scraping away the layers
· The joy of seeing spots where the wood started to show through as we used chemicals and tools to get through 60 years of paint
· The original character of the door to shine through
As we were reading the story of the adulterous woman (John 7:53-8:11), I was struck by the fact that God doesn’t throw us away and start over.
He chooses to make us new.
He is willing to keep scraping away until our inner beauty—who He created us to be—shines through. Sometimes, it means using a chemical stripper that burns. Sometimes, it’s surrounding us with a team of people scraping, laughing and commiserating together. Sometimes it goes quickly; other times, it seems like forever.
While I can’t relate to the adulterous woman in her exact sin, I can see myself being thrown in front of people—being called out publicly—for other things I’ve done. How thankful I am that my God loves me enough to not stone me or throw me away and start over.
“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.”
Monday, June 18, 2012
Old paint--some with several layers. Some that was new paint--overspray from the siding on the house. The paint was off of windows at a house in San Antonio. Not just any house, but one that was bought recently by Blood N Fire with the intention of turning it into a safe house for those coming out of sex trafficking.
As I was scraping, I couldn't help but see that the layers of paint were similar to the women who will call this house "home" for a short time. Some layers were easy to scrape off, but others were not. In fact, some paint got left on the windowsill with the hope that another day will make it easier to peel away. That after a rest, someone else will be a catalyst to get it off. Some of the paint was put there with good intentions--the gray looks great on the siding of the house. But even the good, when placed on an area that's rough and peeling from below--adds to the layers.
May the people who work at this house have the "right" tools to scrape away the layers of hurt and anger of the women who come. May they work diligently and not grow tired and move on to another "project" but continue to scrape away--no matter how tedious it is.
May the women who come here find Truth and peace and healing and forgiveness. MayYour face shine upon them and they see themselves as You do--new wood and not as a broken down old window.
"But the Lord said to Samuel, 'Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart." --1 Samuel 16:7