not super spiritual

Just being real tonight. We're not super spiritual in our house. I mean, one of my goals lately has been to pray with each of my kiddos once a week. ONCE A WEEK. It's not a lot, I know. Many of my friends are doing this with their kids every night. I love this and I would love to do more one day, but we're not there yet. Once a week times 3 kids is 3 nights a week. It's not a whole lot. But I'm human. And every time I've tried praying with all 3 of them every night, I get burnt out and stressed out and give up after about 3 days. So I figured maybe I needed to start smaller.

But let me tell you, what I have learned is that every time I set these goals, no matter how big or small, if it has to do with honoring God in some way, so many things will get in the way. The enemy does not want me bringing my kids to the foot of the cross AT ALL.

So without fail, my good intentions meet up with the reality of my laziness. If it's not laziness, the distraction is very likely busy-ness. If I happen to push through those, I will then very likely square off against my feelings towards a particular child. I am amazed at how many things can keep me from wanting to pray with them. Tonight they were particularly rowdy and trying my patience and I just did not even like them at bedtime. It is so tempting to say, "no, not tonight." Not only does my "want to" disappear, but my WANT to want to is just flat out broke.

But I will also tell you that every time I lean on the Lord and ask him for help, every time I ask him to fix my "want to," he comes through. He gives me JUST ENOUGH to muster up JUST ENOUGH to push open their door, and kneel by their bed, and ask them, "what can we thank God for tonight?" And, "what can we ask God for tonight?"

And every time I do, or should I say, every time HE DOES, I am blessed. And tonight was no exception. I got to see another glimpse of my daughter's heart. And she asked for prayer for me. Not for any of her own needs, but for me. Um. Yes please. Lord knows your momma needs it

the guy who buried Jesus

I am fascinated by this man Joseph of Arimathea. He was not one of Jesus' 12 disciples and yet he was the one who asked to bury His body. Here's why I want to be like this guy:

1) He was a "respected member of the council," which means he probably put his reputation on the line to do this.

2) Scripture says he was "looking for the kingdom." - love those words.

3) Scripture says he "took courage." I mean, yeah, where were the 12 guys who knew Jesus best when He needed a proper burial? Scared and hiding is where they were.

4) Scripture says he "bought a linen shroud." He didn't already have what he needed. He could have made excuses like, "oh that's gonna cost too much, let someone else take care of it," or "it's not really my job." No, instead he made both a social and financial sacrifice to do something he thought needed to be done for Jesus.

5) He probably experienced a bigger blessing than anyone when he found out Jesus had risen. There were questions later about whether Jesus had truly died. This man knew firsthand exactly how dead Jesus had been. He had taken his body, probably thrown it over his shoulders, coming face to face with the blood, sweat, torn flesh, and the smell of death. He carried the dead weight. He no doubt heard the silence of the absence of oxygen moving through his lungs, and felt in person the certainty of no pulse. More than anybody, this man came face to face with the ugly truth of death and the disappointment of hope lost.

What a joy must have filled his soul when the fullness of the kingdom he was looking for showed up in the emptiness of that grave.

in case you like love stories

twenty years ago, in the fall of 1997, i met this boy...... a Jesus-following, puppy cuddling, baseball loving boy........ little did i know it would be the start of a lifelong adventure.

i was working at a baptist camp, serving meals and cleaning cabins on the weekends.  and apparently, so was he.  i didn't think much about him at first, except that he was tall and kinda cute, and really nice, and there was just something different about him.  at the time i was still an awkward tomboy, and had only been on a handful of dates, so the thought of someone actually being interested in me never even crossed my mind. 

we had a lot of mutual friends, and i remember hearing people talk about him a lot, always in a good way.  his friends called him "br," short for "big rob, "  and people seemed to be drawn to his humble spirit.  but i guess i figured he was a lot older than me, so dating him was not something i even thought about.  until...... i went to watch several of the guys play flag football one afternoon that fall.  a friend of mine who came with me mentioned  that she seemed to think he was looking over at the sidelines waving at me.  it gave me butterflies, but i quickly dismissed them because i had been rejected by boys before, and did not want to get my hopes up over something so silly. 

so several months went by.  a year and a half went by actually.  i saw him here and there on weekends at camp, but never really talked to him.

the summer after my senior year in high school, i was old enough to be on summer staff at the camp, so i was there full time.  i had been a christian for 3 years, and was falling deeply in love with Jesus.   i spent countless late night hours in my car that summer, praying and singing and pouring my heart out to God.  and He was pouring His love all over me.  everything from david crowder to tim mcgraw was on my playlist for these "date nights" with Jesus. (yes, tim mcgraw - i changed the lyrics to fit the occasion).  i was resolved to know Him and to make Him known. 

little did i know, just across town, God was doing a work in rob's heart too.  a couple years earlier, he had gone through a very hurtful breakup, and God was bringing conviction, healing, and restoration to that friendship.  he was also raising up a man after God's own heart.  rob was no longer on staff at the camp, but he was serving as a youth intern at a local church, and in july of that summer, they brought their youth group out to camp.   that's where our friendship really sparked. 

i didn't find out until years later, but rob was actually going out of his way that week to find me.  he was making sure to be in the right places at the right time so that he could talk to me.  in my insecurity, i never would have even fathomed this.  he invited me to sit with their group at worship one evening.  so it was there, at the foot of the cross, in a summer camp chapel, that our love story began. 

but it's not where our love began.  our love began when Jesus first loved us.  our love for each other is only possible because of a greater love at the cross of Calvary. 

because of God's love, rob pursued me those early years, with phone calls and love notes, mexican food and snicker bars, teaching me about baseball, and driving miles and miles of texas roads to come watch me play soccer. 

because of God's great love, on christmas day, 1999, at the foot of another cross in the little town of groom, tx,  rob asked me to be his wife.  and that on december 30th, 2000, at the foot of a cross, in lancaster, tx,  i became just that. 

because of God's great love, we began our marriage living and serving at mt. lebanon baptist camp.  because of God's great love, he then moved us away from camp to work and to serve in volunteer youth ministry in several cities.  because of God's great love, we saw lives changed, both in youth ministry, and in the secular workplace in and our communities. 

because of God's great love, we have 3 amazing kids.  His faithfulness more than makes up for our cluelessness as parents and His grace covers our mistakes.  and yes, we have made and are making many. 

because of God's great love, we have welcomed many of "the least of these" into our home.  And because of God's great love, we are the ones who have been blessed by their lives. 

because of God's great love, we have seen our dream of full-time camp ministry come full circle, from out of the blue to pine cove .  20 years after we began at camp, and a decade after we left, He has brought us back.  back to a place that feels more like home, and closer to heaven than anywhere else on earth. 

because of God's great love, we have endured disappointments, failures, major back surgery, major career hurdles, major career changes, several bouts with severe depression, and ongoing battles with anxiety.  countless times, we have watched our needs being provided for on the table, when the ends haven't met on the paper.  we have lost and left loved ones and gained many new friends.  we have hurt and been hurt, we have been wise and foolish, we have been proud, and we have been humbled.  we have strayed and we have been led, and we have been hemmed in, behind and before.  and in all of it, we have seen our desperate need for more and more of Jesus.  more everyday. 

none of this makes us special or amazing, it simply proves how special and amazing HE is.  our marriage and family are just as vulnerable as the next, so we cling to the cross.  we have been and will continue to be nothing but needy and weak, so we cling to the cross.  and there we find that He has been and will continue to be our Provider and our Strength, and that HE is the one clinging to us.

and so our story continues...... the cross from that little summer camp chapel still hangs above our mantle.   it is here where we pursue Jesus and it is here that we pursue each other.  it is here where we do dishes, raise kids, plan camping trips, get frustrated, get forgiveness, fold laundry, drink coffee, dream, cry, laugh, work, rest, pray, eat more mexican food and snicker bars, and still talk about baseball.  and it is here, beneath the foot of the cross, that we find His love, our love, and it is here that we will remain.