Remember Tera Miller? Today she writes on her struggles in worshiping and fearing her family more than Jesus. Can you relate? Maybe you don’t have an “obvious idol” - like pornography or overeating or drunkenness. But what about the beautiful gift of family? Do you love them more than Jesus?

God created us to worship.  It’s how we’re made.  So when we’re not properly worshiping Him, our hearts are quickly drawn to a cheap replacement.  For me, that has been my family.  Which is rather confusing since family in itself is a good thing.  But it can easily take the form of idolatry when I choose family over Jesus.  Let me explain.

As a single woman, I have held my family above Christ by refusing to speak truth at the risk of disrupting my family’s so-called peace or potentially losing relationship with them altogether.  I knew God was calling me to bring into the light past family sin that had never been discussed since it occurred 27 years ago.  I could see how it could be used to show them God’s grace by coming to them in truth and forgiveness.  And although there was great possibility to see lives transformed, I sinned against God by instead choosing my family and my own comfort because the risk was too high.

Not having a husband or children of my own, the thought of being left “alone” was unbearable.  I literally thought I wouldn’t be able to live without my family.  But what I was choosing in that was that I could live without loving Jesus.

It took a long time of wrestling with my convictions before I actually repented.  I sat in my sin and played every scenario out in my head, resolving that I couldn’t bear the worst case outcome.  As a follower of Jesus, I believed that I would give up the thing I cherished the most to follow Him.  But I never actually had to put that belief into action, until now.

Through a lot of prayer and struggle, God changed my heart and gave me the boldness to trust in His sovereignty.  Out of a changed heart and a desire to love and follow Him no matter the cost, I initiated a truth-bearing conversation with my family that resulted in intense pain, disappointment and severed relationship.  In the midst of this season of suffering, though, I rest knowing that I have chosen Jesus above that which I have held above Him for my entire life.  And no matter the situation with my own family, I am comforted by my Heavenly Father who promises I will never be left alone.

Psalm 27:10 For my father and my mother have forsaken me, but the Lord will take me in.

Hers was the last bootie shaking.  Through the din of the crowd’s cheering and whistles, you could barely hear the fading lines of Billboard’s #1 hit, Eye of the Tiger, before the contest was over and the redneck crowd erupted in unanimous thunder, announcing its winner by shouting our roommate’s name.  It was the same cacophonous pitch we heard most every Friday night after the Best Bootie Contest in the muggy Coyote Ugly bar we hung out at in South Texas in the fall of 1982. 

“RUTH-IE!  RUTH-IE!  RUTHIE!”

I was going to a Christian college in the Bible belt, and as one of a handfull of rowdy party girls on campus, a few of us had hooked up and decided to rent an apartment together.  Funny how partiers always find each other.   (”Do not be misled:  Bad company corrupts good character.”  1 Cor. 15:33)

Denise was our ringleader.  She came from such a long line of respected HPU alumni and donors that her last name was minted on an entire dormitory.  Her parents were divorced, and I’ll never forget her showing me a picture of herself at the beach around kindergarten:  wet ponytail, little pot belly, and a smile as big and warm as the state she grew up in.  Her mother had written in capital letters, red ink “SUCK IT IN HONEY!” on the bottom, and after I met her in Fort Worth, I  don’t think the woman came up with another original criticism throughout Denise’s entire trek through puberty.

Lisa came from big money too.  Her father owned a chain of tractor dealerships, and when I would go home with her for breaks, they insisted on paying for everything.  “Southern hospitality.”  Lisa eventually moved out - had to.  Her mother disapproved of us and was cutting off the money if she didn’t.  And aside from her laughing in my face when I told her my hair wasn’t bleached (it wasn’t back then) and pinching her shoulders around us like we had a communicable disease, in hindsight I don’t really blame her.  I have a vivid memory as an 18 year old sitting lamely on the couch, watching the profile of Disapproving Mom cart out the boxes, and thinking “Dang.  You could practically ski off that nose.  If I had all that money, I’d look up a surgeon.” 

In hindsight, Lisa was probably the brains of the bunch.

I chose HPU for 2 reasons:  One, I knew the Baptist bent would make my mother happy, and two, it was conveniently located in Texas - about as far away as I could get from her. 

Denise, Lisa, Ruthie and I were as different as chalk from cheese, and how we all ended up together only God could manage.  The only thing we did have in common was that we fit into a conservative Baptist college about as well a white glove fits in a pig pen.  Because deep down we all felt dirty.  For different reasons.  But as it turned out, Ruthie kept filthier secrets than most.

This is for Ruthie.

(to be continued)

As a mother, I’m often overwhelmed at the gazillion gidgets and gadgets for sale touting “safety.”  I understand the necessity of car seats, gates in front of the stairs, cabinet locks, and all those products that make life safe and prudent.  I just scratch my head at the sheer volume of products that line the shelves, from what is reasonable to what is truly insane.  All in an attempt to alleviate our deepest physical fears as parents.  

Maybe the more children you have, the more you relax.  People say we’re “laid back” as parents.  Maybe so.  Not much surprises us.  [SIDENOTE:  Before I got married I had six theories on raising children.  Now I have six children and no theories.]  

It’s pretty much a given you’ll be neurotic with your first.  The pacifier bounces on the floor, and you scald the nipple [and everything else she touches].  By your third, as the line goes in Parenthood, you’re yawning while they juggle knives.

Webster’s 1828 American Dictionary definese SAFE as:  

Free from danger of any kind; as safe from enemies; safe from disease; safe from storms; safe from the malice of foes.  Free from hurt, injury or damage.  Not exposing to danger;  No longer dangerous; placed beyond the power of doing harm.  Without injury.  Exemption from hurt, injury or loss.    

It seems the world is always seeking total exemption from hurt, injury or loss.  Which is completely unreasonable when comparing my Bible and the world under a Curse.  Sure we should strive for prudent physical safety with our kids.  But it takes real guts to believe Jesus for our kids physical and spiritual safety:  John 17, “Holy Father, protect them by the power of your name - the name you gave me - so that they may be one as we are one. ..My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one. ”

The world was not a friendly or safe place for Jesus, or his followers, ever.  Even before He was born, men sought to kill him.  Following Jesus meant putting oneself at risk - then and now.  I’d even go so far as to say that satan might have a special target on our kids.  The comforting confidence is that protection and safety was paramount in Jesus’ prayers.  It’s amazing to think that Jesus prayed for my kids’ protection 2,000 years ago.  And Romans 8:34 promises that He’s He’s still at it.

I watched (through tears) the Steven Curtis Chapman family interview on Larry King Live the other night. 

What was most remarkable, and comforting, to me through this family’s tragedy was God’s ability to protect their belief in His goodness, His faithfulness, His sovereignty.  To keep their faith SAFE despite the fact that many in the world accuse Him of failing to keep their daughter safe.     http://trevinwax.com/2008/08/08/steven-curtis-chapman-on-larry-king-live/  Real faith, like the Chapmans, is always at risk.  The risk is part of what makes it real.  Or as Jesus said in his prayer:  “As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world.” 

The world was not a safe place for Jesus.  If “He is our example…” [1 Peter 2:21], why would we think it would be any different for us? 

Hello readers,

I really appreciate all your love and support and the way you encourage us in our writing. I am so thankful that you honor us by taking time out of your day to read about our lives. I am humbled by the feedback we get when you tell us that we spoke truth into your hearts.

We’ve been online for 1.5 years!

With that said, I am asking you to pray for me as I think ahead to the future and how we can better serve you women through this blog. Will you take just a minute to pray for me? Pray for wisdom and ears to hear. 

Last, I want to welcome feedback from our readers. Would you consider filling out this form? It shouldn’t take more than 5-10 minutes max.

“Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four…” I slowly counted in my mind the number of little drops of sweat running down my back. 106 degrees in the shade is pretty warm, even sitting under a beautiful Neem tree. It was the last day of my recent trip to India and I was taking a break and talking with Jaipaul, the missionary who graciously hosted me for the first few weeks of July during my stay in a little Indian village. Between swatting mosquitos and flies and counting drops of sweat (and the minutes until I was going to fly away in an air conditioned plane) I was only half paying attention as we talked about the Widow’s program, orphanage, and life in Seattle. (If you aren’t familiar with my trip, there are a couple blogs that will tell you more about it on reforming the feminine and my personal trip blog.)

Suddenly Jaipaul got a little more serious in his discussion about Jesus and Cross-centered living. He reached over for my journal and pen. Quietly he wrote one sentence.

It really got my attention. Each time I look at it, it still resonates really deeply in my soul … more deeply than I really think I’m aware of. “Abandon anything that is not giving any Joy of the Lord or giving you energy”

Wow. Of course I know there are lots of little things, hindrances, habits, whatever, that aren’t always the best choice, but I think I like to excuse the “little things” with the concept of grace far too often. I thought about this sentence and realized just how many little and big things that I could abandon in exchange for peace and joy, but instead I sit here and choose all these little things that rob me of Joy!

Processing all the things that I saw and heard on my trip is taking a while, but as I was reading my journal and saw that I realized this is a truth that I will be letting sink in deeper into my soul probably the rest of my life. I can’t encourage you to do this because I have done it 100% and am on the other side and can say “Hey it’s GREAT over here, come on over!” Nope. I definitely am sitting on the same side as you are, looking at all the little things I don’t want to abandon and wondering if it really is more joyous over there. But I hope I can encourage you that from what I know to be true about Jesus and his Word I think there is a lot of hope and truth in this sentence and my prayer is that every day the Holy Spirit will enable me to abandon those things that are not giving me Joy and run to him and embrace the things that will give me joy and strength.

I can’t believe its been a year since my mental reconciliation of the French tattoo artist carving a sugar skull tattoo on my daughter’s forearm.  And for those of you who’ve never been to the, now’s your chance!  Plus, this year you can register to win a Les Paul Vintage Sunburst guitar!  If that’s not reason enough, let me tempt you with my other Top Ten Reasons for Attending :

 10.  Live Music.  Bands who came up with names, on purpose, like DragStrip Riot , Viva Hate and Witchburn absolutely must be seen.  In person.

9. Low-key.  I’ve went for several years, and it’s not like there are hoards of people trouncing over each other.  Especially if you go on Friday. 

8.  A trip through  Fun Forest or the Seattle Center afterwards.  If you’ve been keeping up with politics in Seattle, they may end up closing this historic attraction after Labor Day in 2009.  When was the last time you rode Windstorm or took the kids on the carousel?  Got your toes wet in in the fountains or watched the seniors dance in the pavillion? 

7.Kat Von D.  Liar Liar Pants On Fire.  Okay, she isn’t really going to be there.  But it’d be cool.

6.  One of the main organizers loves Jesus and contributed content to one of Pastor Mark’s books.  And if you’re still wrestling with the whole “Christians:  To Tattoo or Not to Tattoo” issue, check out the VoxPop article, p. 7.

5.  You could enter to win the Les Paul Vintage Sunburst and give it to your favorite Mars Hill band member. 

4.  Contests.  Best Leg, Best Sleeve, Best Religious, Worst Tattoo.  Speaking of which, in my honky-tonk era of youthful folly, I brazenly allowed  Porky (the name says it all) to tattoo a cowboy boot & hat on my shoulder.  Turns out prison isn’t exactly the best place to learn the this trade, because over time his work bled and melded into what looked like a fat, er, mouse?  Thank you Jesus for laser removal technology.  P.S.  Lasers hurt WAY MORE than tattoo needles.  P.P.S.  A 2003 study revealed 17% of Americans with tattoos regretted getting them, per a recent program I watched on the History Channel.

3. If you’re over 18 and seriously thinking about getting a tattoo, this is a good place to get educated, even if you don’t actually go through with it.  Browse the books for a good look at the artist’s work.  (And if it’s full of pictures only, move on).  This is sort of like a wine tasting event ~ you really start getting the different flavors of the art and artists and what they excel at.  Especially if you don’t really know what you want, you’ll come away with a lot of new ideas.  If, however, you’re serious about going under the needle, go early.  The best artists are booked fairly quickly for the entire weekend.

2. People who attend.  Wow.  Seriously cool folks to pray for.  People are what matter.

And my Number One reason for attending is,

1.  The Tattoo Artists.  Evidence the variety of God’s amazing creativity first-hand.  These body artists fascinate me, and they travel from as near as Pike’s Market to as far as Jacksonville and London.  Eclectic bunch.  Hard core.  Traditional.  Chatty.  Quiet.  Funny.  Thoughtful.  Crazy.  Endearing.  I’ve seen them wearing everything from self-portraits to the Mona Lisa.  I’ve read shoulders with poems by e.e. cummings, and Latin Bible verses around one guys throat.  These are incredibly talented, professional artists who do things with a needle and skin that most of us could never imagine, and it’s fabulous to watch them work.  Did I mention people are what matter in life?  Yeah baby, and these artists rock.

 A long time ago, the Reforming the Feminine team wrote a series of “How To” articles in which the reader learned a variety of skills, including how to write a sensational blog, how to tell if you are a burnt out community group hostess, and how to love your daughter’s sugar-skull tattoo, to name a modest few.

If any of you missed that collection, they are worth checking out. Shelly’s tattoo article was a personal favorite. So in a nostalgic throw back to September 2007, here is another for the grab bag of useful talents.

When my husband and I first started dating in 2002, a friend suggested I start a journal as a creative way to capture the budding romance and early memories of our relationship. I filled four pages with emotional adjectives and discontinued the venture. Four years later, we’re married and another budding relationship needs documenting.

Our mutual redeemed relationship with wine.

We both believe that Christ gave wine to enjoy and have brought it into our home in moderation. My inspiration for creating a wine journal is two-fold. This week we spent 30 minutes in the wine aisle at Trader Joe’s selecting a few bottles to add to the rack. As I browsed the shelves, I noticed several bottles we had tasted previously, but neither of us could remember if we had particularly enjoyed any of them. A wine journal would have surely dispelled these doubts. The second reason is that my deliberate process for selecting wine has nothing to do with tannins, legs, or the year it was bottled. It hinges solely on the following conditions:

a) if the word chocolate appears anywhere in the description (ie. pairs with, hints of, etc.),

b) if I have seen the vineyard myself, or

c) if it has a well-designed and attractive label.

Obviously, this is a relationship that will deepen over time.

The wine journal provides a savvy way to retain those beautiful labels and remind us which bottles we have tasted before. Several Google searches found that someone else had had the same concept - for more tips on wine journaling, check out PinotBlogger.

HOW TO MAKE A CUSTOM WINE JOURNAL

Supplies

Empty wine bottle

Hot water

Dish towel

Clear Packing Tape

Scissors

Well-made Journal (thick pages are preferable)

Clean Spoon

With all supplies assembled, place two pieces of packing tape around the label, covering it thoroughly.

Hold the dry dishtowel around the neck of the bottle, ready to catch drops of water and to protect your hands from the hot glass (Note: I learned this the hard way. Fingerprinting is no longer a valid form of identification for me.). Slowly pour the hot water into the wine bottle, filling it to the beginning of the neck and being careful not to get the label wet.

Wait 8-10 minutes to let the glue react to the hot water.

This would be an ideal time to write a description of the wine in the journal. Include details such as what you enjoyed about that particular wine, who it was enjoyed with, the price, what food it was paired with, etc.

After 10 minutes or so, carefully peel the tape from a corner, making sure that the label is coming off with the tape. Cut along the excess tape from the edges of the label and paste it into the journal. The back of the label will still be slightly sticky, but using a few of the scrapbooking squares or 3M ScotchPads on each of the corners should hold it in place.

Since this was my first wine journal, and only second time attempting this process, there is plenty of room to grow. If you find additional ways to improve this, please send them along.

Enjoy!

Exhaustion means that our vital energies are completely worn out and spent.  Spiritual exhaustion is never the result of sin, but of service.  Whether or not you experience exhaustion will depend on where you get your supplies.  Jesus said to Peter, “Feed my sheep,” but He gave him nothing with which to feed them (Jn. 21:17).  The process of being made broken bread and poured-out wine means that you have to be the nourishment for other people’s souls until they learn to feed on God.  They must drain you completely — to the very last drop. 

Have you delivered yourself over to exhaustion because of the way you have been serving God?  If so, then renew and rekindle your desires and affections.  Examine your reasons for service.  Continually look back to the foundation of your love and affection and remember where your Source of power lies.  You have no right to complain, “O Lord, I am so exhausted.”  He saved and sanctified you to exhaust you. 

Be exhausted for God, but remember that He is your supply. 

“All my springs are in you” (Ps. 87:7).

Oswald Chambers, My Utmost For His Highest

* * *

I believe every experience in my life - good and bad, fun or embarassing, planned or surprise, understood or confusing:  sufferings, losses, joys & regrets  - every single season has been allowed by a sovereign God who loves me and desires to use it all for good as I surrender and submit to His will.  Perhaps more importantly for this 2 Much Too Busy series, keeping in mind that every layered experience equips us for service to Christ, and contributes to making us who we are today.  “For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”  Eph. 2:10.  For me, the fruit of a somewhat cooky, unconventional life has meant having an extraordinary ability to be flexible and multi-task.  I used to be bitter about the ridiculous life God gave me, but today Providence is the sweetest pillow I lay my head on at night.  God knew eventually I would have an exceptionally large family by Seattle standards, as well as a huge extended Church family.  Flexibility is essential, and He’s created it to be my middle name.  I like how He’s uniquely created that “in Christ”, in me. 

With this in mind, one of my goals for writing this series was to show another side of the rhetoric of 2 Much Too Busy.  In the course of my Christianity, I’ve been scolded, judged and self-condemning for 2 Much Too Busy.   However, in coming to terms with Providence and His excellence in creating Shelly to be the runner in her unique race, for the most part these days I’m 2 much Too Busy full-time, and guilt-free.  A Scottish pastor provided great insight in reconciling my 2 Much Too Busy realities.  He acknowledged this running around like Martha was part & parcel of life, and further said something shocking that I never forgot:  It is okay to be a Martha - SO LONG AS WE take the heart of Mary along with us.  It’s something I daily, prayerfully practise.

In the must-read Christian classic Pilgrim’s Progress, Christian goes on a journey to the Celestial City (heaven), and 85% of his journey is met with dangers, toils and snares.  Only occasionally is Christian allowed respite from his journey and trials, and he takes full advantage of the rest when it comes.  I think Bunyan and Oswald are on to something.  The more I seek to be used, the more exhausted I become.  This year I committed to some pretty hefty ministry projects the week before Easter.  I didn’t get to bed that entire week before 2 AM, and I had work the next morning.  And every time the temptation to feel guilty came up, something said, “unnecessary”.  And then I read the Oswald Chambers selection I started this post with, and it all fit.  It felt so ”right” to be exhausted for Christ’s sake, the week before his crucifixion.

I don’t have any great wisdom on “How To R&R”, because for the most part, I think we all know how to do that.  And we should.  I have found that Jesus is absolutely trustworthy to provide respite.  He’s always looking out for me.  Sometimes that’s a full-fledged vacation, sometimes it’s a morning down at the beach in silence & solitude, sometimes it’s a catnap at the Columbia Center at lunch, sometimes it’s a delicious Korean dinner and conversation with my blogging buddies, and sometimes it’s a glorious night away downtown with my husband.  I grab it when He brings it, I suck every comfort out I can, and I charge up for my next tour of duty, because He saved and sanctified me to exhaust me.    Adriel’s recent post, 16 Men in My Life, illustrated this point perfectly.  And I’m stealing her equally perfect ending.

Good night.

Today at work we started our first Pastor Training Program session. Yesterday I put in 14 hours solid and then today another 14 and I am so tired I have tunnel vision, but I have to write before crashing [and I'm out of laundry and am waiting for a load].

I’m not sure who reads my posts, or what they’ve gathered of information about me, but since October last year, I have worked at Mars Hill as Pastor Scott Thomas’ assistant. He is an elder here at MHC and director of the Acts 29 Network and over the Church Planting Branch. If you think that’s a mouthful, just know I left out 8-12 more roles he has. 

I am almost too tired to be coherent, so I apologize ahead of time to the early readers who will pick this up and catch my spelling and logic errors before I go back and edit them tomorrow.

I’m writing now to tell you I am really happy and absolutely thrilled about the next few days and year. I prayed in my car a lot today for the guys coming in from all over the country - there’s 12 of them - and for the 4 elders I work with in our department who will be training. These 12 guys are training as pastors of new churches - some are rolling, some are gathering speed, some are just a concept in the mind and a burning in the heart right now. Church planting! Mission work! People who have no idea Jesus loves them and died for them will hear!

After all the months of preparation, it was a joy to shake their hands and realize they’re real people and they aren’t just thinking about telling people about preaching the good news and making disciples, they’re jumping into it full-force. These are dudes who love Jesus, love their families, and want folks to meet Jesus and be transformed. These are guys who, because of their example and the preaching of Scripture, will bring the gospel to those seeking and lost.

I remember when I was 9 I really wanted to go and love people who needed love and tell them about Jesus so they wouldn’t be sad or feel lonely.

I remember as a teenager having angst-filled discussions with my best friend late into the night as we discussed how it always seemed that dads were the ones behind everything wrong with our messed up friends and families - girls and boys alike. Every time we tried to trace the source of issues, it came down to an abusive or distant or mocking or absent or harsh father, who also had an abusive or distant or mocking etc father. I remember us crying and praying and saying “God, fix the men - the bad fathers ruin everyone!” I wanted to stop the never-ending chain of fathers being bad dads and their sons growing up to be bad dads, too. And my best friend and I prayed because we knew even then that it would take God and other men who loved Jesus to make the chain stop, and no matter how much we loved our guy friends, we couldn’t fix them and that there was a man-to-man need we couldn’t even approach.

How does this matter to us ladies? Men taking action to train and to plant churches means that more MEN will meet Jesus and stop taking advantage of us, leaving us as single moms, abusing us and our kids, forcing us to take on double responsibilities of men and women, ripping us off, taking and not giving, being dead weight on our couches, lying to us, etc.

All this to say. I am amazed that God in his kindness and great sense of humor has put me in a position where I get to see my 9 year old dream and my teenage prayers start to become real. In a hidden way (with a great view!) I get to help plant churches where people are meeting Jesus. In another hidden way, I get to help great Jesus-loving men get together to train more great Jesus-loving men whose lives are being transformed to become godly in loving, leading and caring for those around them.

More Jesus, more love. Amen.

Good night.

I can’t wait for you to get here. I wish you could talk right when you are born so you can tell us what it’s like to live in my belly.

We pray for you, that you love Jesus. We pray that your heart will be soft even in my womb. Maybe you’ll experience what John the Baptist experienced in his mother’s womb. There’s something I wish you could tell me about!

You’re gonna love your family. You have a super fun daddy! He’ll play with you a lot and make things with you. He plays video games, so you can bet on having all the game consoles to play with. You lucky duck. If daddy didn’t play video games, I don’t think I would get you anything but perhaps the Wii. He’s a really good story teller too. I think he learned it from your grandpa.

My heart is scared for the lack of sleep I’ll have and the lack of alone time I’ll have, but I think we’ll have a lot of fun together.

Your room is probably never going to be ready… but we are ready to have you in our lives.

I love you, little man.