If we trust...

I know this refugee problem is bigger than me. I know that it might be more complicated than I'm aware but is it? 

This morning as I was fretting and sad, God reminded me that He is enough and that He can be trusted. Even if there is a terrorist sitting next door to me. He is my safety, not my border, not my neighborhood, not my church, not my husband. This is the scariest thing to me and yet the most reassuring. 
When we were in the hospital, a peace came over me and it was this: He is. He was and He is. He has been there during the crusades and He has been there at his own death on the cross when the whole world shunned him...o.k. maybe not his momma Mary, but yes, everyone. 

He understands the rhythms of history. He isn't surprised..I have to remind myself of this. At one point last week, I forgot this. 
My mind wanders often to the refugee situation. What would do? What should I do? I want a huge piece of property so I can have all of them....at least the children. I don't want anyone else to die. Enough already, right?
Then God came in to my aching heart and said something like, 

"I can take people away to a better place and although there is loss for those of you left, it's not surprising for me, and not for long. Here the sun is always shining and there's no tear in any eye. My presence is completely here and my promises are fulfilled. "

I think it's a trust issue...if we trust Him, we can be safe. If we trust Him, we are given peace. I though, get frustrated with what's not happening and think it's not going to work out well. I think I honestly don't see pain and suffering as normal, we see happiness and health as normal. I do.

Those little faces in pictures of kids sleeping in streets, whether it be now or 10 years ago, in Paris, Syria or the Philippines---I can't hack it. I feel guilty snuggling with my kids. I feel ashamed that I ever complained about, well, anything. I do honestly feel like if I could do something, then it would be better. And not outside of giving and praying and positioning myself to help and serve...but like if we could just quit our jobs and move there and hire a truck and get food and blankets...that I could hug them all and the bad guys would go away. 

A few years ago when we lived in the condominium in North Park, I found out that there were 4 sex offenders (1 on parol and 3 major) that lived IN MY COMPLEX. As in, 3 doors down, upstairs, down the hall. At first my heart raged...how could God let me buy in a neighborhood with those crazies? I have a baby! Then we moved to a different neighborhood by the beach...ahhh, away from the crazies...ahhh. Knock, knock. It's my neighbor to tell me that the guy a house down was just released. 

No bad guys can steal my Jesus. And if in the end, I die because of the bad guys, then I get to go be with the good guy. And my friends and family will be sad and sing great songs at my memorial service and I will wait for them where the mountains touch the sky, at the end of the rainbow, because I'm covered. I'm covered by His blood.

I want to trust Him.

Why Christmas?

http://www.ucg.org/the-good-news/the-top-10-reasons-why-i-dont-celebrate-christmas

My email is lisa.miller.a@gmail.com and I'd love to have a discussion about this with you. Do you agree/disagree?

I have a lot of friends who don't celebrate Christmas...friends who are near and dear. Sometimes I have a hard time articulating my thoughts on why I love Christmas. The past few years I've started doing different things for the holidays...things like resting more, reading to the kids more, ramble walking more, doing crafts intentionally and reading the bible to them. I realize it could be done as an act of worship around Easter. Somehow it seems more cozy at Christmas and more settled in my heart. When the temperature is 99 and I'm sweaty, it's almost like I don't feel like sitting and being and pondering. Another reason is that my very personality is all about party. I like being loud and fun and buying presents and being fun and loud and buying presents and being silly and joking loudly...how could I not do this in honor of Jesus...does he like it?

So, message me what you think. I really want my eyes to be more open.

Christmas booth, 2012

Outta here....

ALL I WANT TO TYPE IN CAPS OVER AND OVER IS THE FACT THAT WE'RE OUT OF THE HOSPITAL. WHAT A HARD WEEK. IT'S OVER. WE'RE GONNA GET BETTER NOW. I have the best, best friends in the whole world. or universe...I should include universe because they were extraterrestrial. Which, now that I'm a smart homeschool momma, I know that means, "out of" "earth". Yep. Me. Smart. Haa...

Please pray for my little one still. We have high white blood cell counts, inflamed abdomen still and low fever. So, no partying this week. But, we are OUT OF THE HOSPITAL. Oh, and did I mention..

WE


ARE

OUT

OF


THE


HOSPITALLLLLLLLLLL!!!!

By the way, please pray for my sweet friend Noel. She is needing miracles right now...she's still at the hospital.

Good Veterans Day Story

Mike Rowe

Say hi to Retired Staff Sargent Travis Mills, formerly of the 82nd Airborne, US Army.

As you can see, Travis has undergone a few structural modifications, most visibly in the leg department. Likewise, his left arm is more machine than flesh, and though his right arm appears to be around my waist, it really isn’t. Like the rest of his limbs, it’s been missing in action for some time.

I met Travis a few weeks ago in DC at The Science and Engineering Festival, and spent a half hour talking, mostly about Dirty Jobs. He wanted to tell me how much he and his buddies appreciated that show while on active duty. He wanted to know what it was like to work in so many “difficult and dangerous situations.”

Can you imagine? How exactly does one answer a question like that from a guy like this?

On the day we met, I was a little stressed out. I had just moderated a panel on the main stage, and I was rushing to the other end of the Convention Center to meet with a bunch of CEO’s to discuss mikeroweWORKS. I was late, and there were three-hundred and fifty thousand people between me and where I needed to go, all of whom wanted to say hello and take a photo. My security team was cutting a swath through the crowd, and I was trying very hard not to look like a complete douche. Then one of the event organizers ran over and grabbed my arm.

“Hey Mike, there’s a guy backstage who really wants to say hello.”

“That’s nice,” I said. “Tell him to get out here and do it.” I was walking fast, head down, determined to maintain forward momentum. If you stop in a situation like that, you never get started again.

“Well,” said the guy, “it would be easier if you came to him. It’ll just take a second.”

“Why? His legs broken?”

“Uhh...not exactly. But he’s just around the corner. I think he was in the war.”

I told the security guys to sit tight, and followed the guy down a long hallway, looking at my watch as we fast-walked into the backstage area. Then we ducked behind a blue curtain, and Travis Mills stood up to greet me. Actually, he kind of unfolded himself from a chair, and came toward me with a very wide smile. He then extended a prosthetic arm and offered a plastic hand, which I automatically shook.

“Mike Rowe! What an honor! I’m Travis Mills, and I’m very, very pleased to meet you.”

I’ve seen a lot of things over the years, and I’ve gotten good at pretending there’s nothing unusual when there clearly is. But I was completely unprepared for this.

“Ahh...shit,” I said. “What happened?”

“IED. Afghanistan.”

“Damn. I’m sorry.”

“No big deal. It’s been two years now. I’m good. Tell me something though - are you gonna do anymore Dirty Jobs?”

“Uhh...what?”

“Dirty Jobs, man! When are we gonna see some new ones?”

“Well Travis, that show was cancelled. I’m working on something new though that I think will be just as good. Maybe better.”

“Hey, that’s great! I got new legs and you got a new show! Tell me all about it!”

That’s how the conversation started. My show. My foundation. My book. Etc. But I eventually steered it back to him, and learned that Travis is one of only five quadruple amputees to survive that level of injury in the recent wars. He has a motto: Never Give Up - Never Quit. He has a Foundation. He’s featured in a new documentary. He also has a wife and a kid, and a deeply personal commitment to help other wounded Vets cope with their injuries. But when I asked why I hadn’t seen him in any of the typical commercials and PSA’s for wounded veterans, his answer was stunning. He said he didn’t consider himself to be wounded.

“I’m not a victim, Mike. And I refuse to be portrayed that way. Case closed.”

Fact is, Travis is missing more than a few original parts; he’s missing all traces of self-pity. And that’s presents a challenge for mortals like me. Because it’s a hell of a thing to feel put out because a crowd of fans are making me late for an important meeting, and then listen to a guy with no arms or legs tell me how lucky he is, and how much he appreciates all my hard work.

That’s called a gut-check, and I could use one from time to time. Especially on Memorial Day, when the biggest decisions I face are what to grill and which type of frosty beverage to enjoy. This year, as I resolve these and other important issues, I’ll think of Travis Mills. A guy who went out on a limb for me, in every way possible.

Thanks Travis.
And Happy Memorial Day to you all.

Mike

PS. His story is incredible. Check it out, if you have the time.
http://www.travismills.org/about/

Please pray

I'm really, really struggling today. I'm about to throw in the towel with homeschooling and tiny living and higher-calling motherhood. I haven't got what I thought, I got a big piece of bad news I wasn't expecting at all, I can't see my dreams coming true any time soon. I know what I should think but my heart is bursting with sadness, disappointment and defeat. I need you to pray because I don't know how. Thanks.

Time to Read! (and Share!)

Three years ago I began a tradition of beginning to simplify the week before Thanksgiving. Here are some simple things we do, along with some new books we will be reading to prep our hearts.

1. We copy advent verses beginning the first week of November. Since we are all about cursive in the house, I just print off verses like this, http://heartofwisdom.com/blog/free-bible-handwriting-worksheets/ .
2. We continue to read books and poems aloud (and to ourselves) This year I ordered/rented these (some are new to me, borrowed, or I already had them):

25 December Lane by Helen Ward
Carry On Mr. Bowditch
The Mitten by Jan Brett
The Year of the Perfect Christmas Tree: an Appalachian Story
Harvey Slumfenburger's Christmas Present
Little One, We'd Knew You'd Come by Sally Lloyd Jones
Jesus Story book Bible
Book of Isaiah and Psalms and Daniel and Luke
Snowmen at Night
Dream Snow by Eric Carle
Advent Readings
Christmas Remembered by dePaola


It's not a completely spiritual list, but just books from different perspectives on why this time of cooling down, on multiple levels, can mean something special. I don't want this time of year to be different because of presents. I want this time of year to be a different rhythm. I want the time to introduce new ideas and the space to discuss that. Some of these books are written for little ones, but I still enjoy the pictures and the creativity, and I'm 43~

If you have a great Christmas book, or just a holiday book about seasons or rhythms during this time, will you PLEASE share it with me?! I LOVE books.

Christmas Tree on the porch due to limited space...Chase Ray excited about the rain!

Dealing With Conflict...wow.

http://journeycommunitychurch.com/2015/wisdom-conflict-inevitable-carnage-optional/

Tidings of Comfort and Joy! (another long ramble)

sometimes the amount of information spinning in my brain is overwhelming. how many people am i? in my dream world, i'm a different lady with different aspirations and ideas. in my wake state, i ponder so many things that i wish it could stop. i analyze everything, over and over and over again. and then i do it again, just to make sure. i can talk a lot and i can be very quiet for a long time. when i'm being quiet is when i'm deciding who i'm going to be and what i'm going to decide on making matter.
(yes, i'm going to try not to use the caps/shift button today as my thumbs ache..more on that later)...
i've had a vomiting child who has missed the toilet for the last 2 days. he's old enough not to miss but is hardly ever, ever sick (maybe the last time was a year and a half ago?) and even if he's under the weather, he acts almost normal. my life has been about cooking and cleaning--so i clean up after him, grateful that i can and grateful that he is hardly ever, ever sick. i couldn't really even leave the house as i wasn't sure what might happen. i was brought back to when i was very sick with my pregnancies...where normal was in my bed or in the bathroom. people took care of me, life dripped by at half a droplet an hour. i was not contributing to any forward movement, not even my bowels. there was no spunk or extroverted anything. i'm grateful for this morning--it is cool and i can clean and scrub, even if my thumb pain eventually reminds me to slow down. oh, my thumbs...yes, i told you i'd talk a bit about them. i haven't gone to the doc as i've been using our extra funds on fake teeth and bumpy mole removal costs. i just cannot do much manual scrubbing...dishes, vacuuming, baseboard dusting. when i do, the next day only my other 4 fingers work, but my thumbs are in excruciating pain.i'll keep you updated on that as i get up the desire to spend money on copays versus cortados.
today i'm reminded of the power of prayer. i've had some emotional bumps this past month...things have not gone the way i wanted them to. but not in a bad way, just in an unexpected way. i thought we would have a cute christmas card to deliver to ya'll with a photo of the light streaming in through the trees of us at our new property. nope. i thought i'd have moved out of this little apartment and been in a trailer or in another state or city or region with some plans being analyzed on house building. nope. i thought i would have the same friends but some new ones and some very old ones i haven't talked with in a while blessed me. score. i had no idea that God was getting ready to bless me and bring comfort and joy through my persistent-God-fearing husband. score. (on a sex side note, ya know what they say about having to play the quiet game and what it might produce...)score. i had no idea what cutting out a LOT would create for our family. relationship space.
Do I want to live in an apartment where the grumpy neighbor comes out and stares at us, rolls his eyes and then grunts and re-enters his hole? Nope. But would I live here, in this state of space and process and prayer..yep.
i'm learning Latin. it is hard but enlightening. this week's "ah ha" moment came through this translation--wound. that's the meaning for the word "vulneris". bet you know where i'm going with this..yep, vulnerable. i've identified with this word...i have a little wound..i'm being vulnerable..with you, with God, with our situation not being exactly what i wanted it to be. but it's a good thing. i don't know how else to say it. it's comforting to know that i have something that's not going the way i want it to go because then when something happens differently (healing in many ways/areas), i'll know it's God--I'll be able to give him the credit for the working out all things for His good/our good. and this brings me great comfort and joy! bless you friend.

 chase ray, age 3