Made to Crave - Lysa TerKeurst

Guess what I'll be doing differently (again) this new year?

shine a good light

This is what's been on my heart this Christmas season:

If I'm "the only Jesus" someone ever sees...or I'm the one Christian someone knows...if I'm the face of Christianity and I'm a gigantic puke - a stink nugget - a worm, what kind of example am I being?

Hey! Jesus is awesome! But what about all these idiots...who let them in here?

(That last phrase is what I've been living out in the last since-my-baby-was-born.)

James MacDonald said something once that's been ringing in my ears. Here's my best attempt at paraphrasing:

You may not be the one to plant the seed, but let's don't stomp the soil all hard so that no one can plant it.

I don't want to be a soil stomper. I don't want people to look at me and say, "THAT'S what it means to love and follow Jesus?! NO THANK YOU."

So. I'm sorry I've been a puke. And that my light is a laser shining into your eyeball. I'm going to try and shine a nicer light. Because Jesus really is awesome. I'm not awesome.

I'm celebrating His birthday this weekend.

Merry Christmas.

I should take a little break from writing...

...I took down yesterday's post because it may or may not have included hypothetical idiots, Fire Marshalls and burning hotels.

My husband read it and said it didn't sound like me. I told him that it was the most me I've ever been...because I'm nothing if not overly dramatic. And loony.

He was right, though...it wasn't very nice. So it's gone.

This is precisely why God didn't give me *laser eyes.

*Sometimes, when I am driving in my car and people make me mad, I think it would awesome to have laser eyes. However, I would be lasering people in the heat of the moment. And then my husband would tell me that it isn't like me to be lasering people with my eyes. And once someone is lasered, they can't be UNlasered.

So.

There you go.

Dumb and stupid

I don't allow my kids to call people dumb or stupid. But, then, I don't allow my kids call people other mean names, either.

I allow them to call things dumb and stupid. Because sometimes things are dumb and stupid.

Context.

I worry that we, as parents, focus on minutiae and miss the point.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I typed the above yesterday, and then took it back down...since context is good.....I thought I should provide a little for my rant.

(I don't want anyone thinking I'm specifically pointing fingers.)

The other day I had referred to something as having a stupid design. And 'stupid' rang in my ears. Just like 'shut up' always does. And 'crap.' Words that you were taught not to say in elementary. You know....'cause they're bad words.

But, are they?

I love 'crap.' I know it conjures up all kinds of yucky feelings, which is what makes it the perfect word to describe things.

What I was thinking about yesterday, was how we focus our attention on the words, and not the heart. I can call someone a mean name using nice words.

For example? My sister used to tell me that I had Grandma Hands. (I forgive you, Jen.) (ahahaaha!!) Now, she wasn't saying that my hands were loving and good at baking. She was saying that my hands were old ladyish and dorky. (Not that grandma's are old ladyish and dorky.) Should my parents have banned the word Grandma? Of course not. They should have made my sister pay me $300.

Kidding.

I would have settled for $200.

Anyway...you know what I mean. Less focus on the words, and more focus on the heart.

baby baby baby no

I didn't get much sleep last night. Or the night before. Or 3285 nights before that. "I'm exhausted," I told my husband while he was getting ready for work.

"Why don't you try and take a nap today?" he offered.

"Hey! That is such a great idea! Why didn't I think of that?!" I said with way too much sarcasm and sassiocity. I decided to make it a priority to get a nap in this morning. When both the boys were napping (big kids at school) my nap window was open. But then I remembered I hadn't bathed in a lot of days. I say a lot, because I'm not exactly sure when I last did. Sunday? Saturday? I don't remember. Just keeping it real. So I took a bath. HEAVEN!

AND I fixed my hair. But here's the thing with that: I keep fixing it so that it looks like Justin Bieber's. I told my stylist sister about this problem a few weeks ago. Then I saw her, and she re-cut it for me, and styled it. Voila! No Justin Bieber. However, when I try to do it myself? Voila! Justin Bieber. Although when I think about it, it's probably like complaining the results aren't Chicken Kiev when you set out making chocolate chip cookies.

Anyhow.

My nap window is closed.

My tiniest baby is asleep in my lap right this moment and doesn't want to be set down. An issue I'll worry about in a few months. Right now, I'm content to sit and rock him. Cause I'm a rock star.