Transforming

My goodness, it’s been a long time since I’ve written anything.  I hope I remember how.

This summer marked big changes for our family.  We relocated out of state, my husband graduated from seminary, we now have a two year old, this week we will have a four year old, I turned thirty (wow!), we have new jobs, we settled into a new church, we began a new service role in our new church, and we bought a house.  So it’s not that I haven’t been learning anything over the past couple months, it’s just that I’ve failed to write it down.  So the catch-up will begin today.

Today I would like to write about the purchase of our home.  When we looked at it, it was horrible.  Just horrible.  The place had sat vacant for over a year, and it showed. Dark paneling in the great room. Shabby, moldy wallpaper in one bathroom.  The backyard looked like a jungle, and was home to snakes, turtles, mice, fire ants, hornets, and who-knows-what-else.  Holes in the soffit. Decor from the 70′s (yeah, that was before I was born). Stained carpet. Electrical hazards. Black, tadpole infested water in the pool. Oh, and no working air conditioning – in Florida.

No wonder it had sat on the market so long.  It looked overwhelmingly bad all over. But to us, we saw something different.  We saw the potential for transformation.  (Y’all, we have no remodeling experience. We had watched a lot of HGTV. We were overly ambitious.)  I stood out in the overgrown yard, weeds clawing at my pants, bugs swirling ’round my head, looking back at a place with everything wrong with it, and I said to my husband, “Oh! I love it. I love, love, love it.”

Since that day we’ve put countless hours of sweat, tears, and blood (sometimes) into making this house a resemble home.  It’s not finished yet – by far.  I had to mop the floors 8 times…in 2 weeks…until finally we could walk across the floor without our feet getting black.  I’m not exaggerating.  I constantly have paint or spackle – or both – under my nails.  (Today I painted a ceiling, so it’s also in my hair.) My husband constantly comes inside bleeding from some new attack of the jungle-yard.  But slowly, this place is transforming. (Very slowly, y’all.  We have 2 kids.) Sometimes though, it seems like we go two steps forward and one step back.  We finished stripping the mold out of the bathroom (Hooray!), then found out last week there is mold in the air ducts (Grrr…).

At the same time though, I’ve been studying my Bible in Jeremiah and Ezekiel (following the David Platt Radical Experiment, if you want to look it up) and also reading Death By Love by Mark Driscoll.

So numerous times over the last few months, I’ve been reminded that this house is like me. In my sin, I was horrible.  Just horrible. Dark fears and anxieties. Shabby, moldy self-righteousness. A jungle of jealousy, judgmentalism, and who-knows-what-else.  Holes of hurt. Stains, hazards, infestations of idolatry. A heart that did not work properly.

But God looked at someone overwhelmingly bad all over, and He saw something different.  The potential for transformation through His Son.  “I love her,” He said of this girl that had everything wrong with her. “I love, love, love her.”

So He poured out his sweat, tears, and blood.  On the cross.  For ME. To take the wrath that I deserved.

“How deep the Father’s love for us. How vast beyond all measure. That he would give His only Son. To make a wretch his treasure.”

I’m not finished yet – by far, y’all.  Much like this house, I am very much in-process. But how awesome is the promise that God is at work within me, to conform me to the likeness of Jesus.  His Spirit has taken up residence in me, and He is like the ultimate handy-man – scrubbing, patching, fixing, pruning, and transforming my heart, turning it into a home that radiates His glory. I take great comfort in that. Especially on days when it seems like I take two steps forward and one step back in my spiritual life.

I’m not saying it’s a perfect analogy, but this is something I’ve been contemplating over and over again.  Because as I scrape popcorn finish off my ceilings (a very painful arm-workout), I know that God is still scraping filth off my heart (a sometimes painful heart-workout).

Maybe I’ll post pictures of our in-process house soon.  Maybe.

Obeying When You Don’t Want To

This week I opened up my mailbox and found TWO coupons to my favorite store.  TWO!  I could hardly believe my eyes!  One was for 20% off and the other was $10 off.  “Wow!” I thought.  “This is the perfect chance to buy new tennis shoes!”  Seriously, mine are in awful shape. Then I glanced at the address.  The $10 off coupon was not addressed to me – it was addressed to the house one street over.  Oh, man.  Ethical dilemma.  Do I pretend I never saw the address and use it toward my much needed shoes?  Or do I take the coupon and put it in it’s rightful box?  I discussed it with a friend of mine.  Then I decided, if I had to think about it, then I already had my answer.  I should give the coupon to it’s rightful owner.  God requires honesty, and that was the honest, obedient thing to do.  But, man!  I SO did not want to.

So we were headed out of the house this morning and I asked my son to put his shoes on.  I was specific on which ones (red crocs) and where they were (by the door).  But he went and picked out a completely different pair from the closet.  Now, honestly wearing a different pair of shoes is not that big a deal. But since I had asked him to do a specific thing, I felt that he should obey specifically.  To me it was more of a teaching moment than a fashion intervention.  I asked him again to put on his red crocs.  “I don’t want to wear those!” he whined.  (He normally loves them.) “I asked you to put those shoes on, and you need to obey.  Sometimes I give you a choice of which shoes you want to wear and sometimes I do not.  Today I am not giving you a choice in shoes. But you need to choose to obey.” He started to cry. I told him what his consequence would be for not obeying.  And he obeyed. “I’m proud of you for choosing to obey.” I said before we pulled out of the driveway.  “It’s not easy to obey when we don’t want to, is it? But God tells us to obey Him even when we don’t want to because He loves us.  That’s why you have to obey Mommy even when you don’t feel like it too.”

Now the funny thing is, we were literally headed directly out to return the coupon.  I smiled to myself.  I think God wanted both me and my son to learn a similar lesson on the same day.  I think He wanted to reinforce that He wants us to obey – even in the small things (like red crocs or coupons), and even if we don’t want to.  Because that’s what obedience  really is anyways, right?  I hope that someday if my son gets someone else’s $10 off coupon to his favorite store when he really, really could use it, then he’ll remember his red crocs and do what’s right even if he doesn’t want to.

Adopted for Life

Recently I have been reading Russell Moore’s book Adopted for Life.  Wow!  Break out the tissues!  I cried at least five times in the first fifty pages.  In the book, Moore tells about his experience adopting his two sons from Russia, but more than that, he reminds believers of our adoption by our Heavenly Father.  I’d like to share with you a few of the themes that I’ve been pondering after reading his book:

IDENTITY. When we trust in Christ as our Savior, our identity is no longer in the flesh, but our identity is found in Him.  We are a member of God’s family.  This is HUGE, considering that we are by nature children of the devil.  It’s like a family choosing to adopt a child after the social worker tells them that the child’s father and grandfather are convicted rapists and murders, he has a history of violence, and he’s been in and out of psychotherapy since he was three.  Yeah, you’d think twice about adopting that kid.  But God doesn’t.  He adopts us anyways and then instead of looking at our “biological” past, he looks to His Son who has washed our past away.  We are His now.

ABBA.  We often hear of the word Abba (Daddy) in a kind of cute way.  But Moore says that in Scripture the Abba cry is more of a scream.  Here’s a quote from the book regarding Moore’s son’s Abba cry:

“Of all the disturbing aspects of the orphanage in which we found our boys, one stands out above all the others in its horror.  It was quiet…If you listened intently enough, you could hear the sound of gentle rocking – as babies rocked themselves back and forth in their beds.  They didn’t cry because no one responded to their cries.  So they stopped. That’s dehumanizing in its horror.  The first moment I knew the boys received us, in some strange and preliminary way, was the moment we walked out of the room for the last time on that first trip.  When little Maxim, now Benjamin, fell back in his crib and cried – the first time I ever heard him do it – it was because, for whatever reason, he seemed to think he’d been heard. (pg 52) Walking out of the room to prepare for the plane ride home, Maria and I could hear Maxim calling out for us and falling down in his crib, convulsing in tears.  Maria shook with tears of her own.  I turned around to walk back into their room, just for a minute.  I placed my hand on both of their heads and said, knowing they couldn’t understand a word of English, ‘I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.’ (pg25)”

Little Maxim understood.  He didn’t like the orphanage anymore – that’s not how it was supposed to be for him.  And God says that this world is not how it’s supposed to be for us either.  The Spirit within us groans “Abba, come save us!  This is not how it’s supposed to be!”  Praise God that He too has promised that He will come for us.

“When you see Him for the first time face-to-face, when your legal adoption is fully realized, the Spirit within you will cry out, ‘Abba! Father!’ And you’ll hear another voice, louder than all the others, cry out the same thing.  You’ll turn to see him, the Messiah of Israel, the Emperor of the universe, Jesus of Nazareth.  And you’ll call him ‘brother.’” (pg43)

INHERITANCE. When Russell Moore picked up his sons to take them home from the orphanage he says it was a harder transition than he imagined.  They had never seen the sun or felt the wind, so it was scary for them.  They reached their little arms back toward the orphanage as the car pulled away. They didn’t know that they were going home to a family who loved them and would take care of them and feed them and play with them.  All they knew was the orphanage.  They didn’t know that they were longing for a pit compared to the place they were going.

How true of us believers too!  All we know is this world.  We cling to such meaningless stuff – stuff that seems wonderful and important because it’s all we know.  But God says that believers have so much more to look forward to – an inheritance in heaven.  One day He’s taking us out of this pit-of-a-fallen-world and bringing us home.  Home to heaven!  I want to be more focused on my true home and stop reaching back to the orphanage.

BROTHERHOOD. Russell Moore says that often people will ask of his boys (who are three weeks apart), “Are they brothers?”  To which he responds, “They are now!”  It doesn’t matter who gave birth to them or when.  They belong to the Moore family now, and yes, they are as much brothers as are the two other Moore boys who came along biologically later.

This concept is huge to believers, especially Gentile believers.  Throughout the New Testament there are epistles written to Gentile Christians assuring them of their place in God’s family – of OUR place in God’s family.  God’s family was not just the Jewish people anymore – it was, and is, anyone who is in Christ.  But of course there was controversy.  The Jewish believers wondered if the Gentile believers could really be a part of the family without circumcision.  In essence they were asking, “Are they our brothers?”  To which Paul and others respond that yes, in Christ, we are now! Today’s churches can sometimes fall into this fault too.  Instead of seeing one another as true brothers in Christ, we draw dividing lines over race or background or denominational beliefs.  How awesome would it be if we could really grasp that the gospel that saves, saves EVERYONE the same. One last quote:

“Our adoption is about more than just belonging. Our adoption is about the day when the graves of this planet will be emptied, when the great assemly of Christ’s church will be gathered before the Judgement Seat.  On that day, the accusing principalities and powers will probably look once more at us – former murderers and fonicators and idolaters, formerly uncircumcised in flesh or in heart – and they may ask one more time, ‘So, are they brothers?’  The hope of adopted children like my sons – and like me – is that the voice that once thundered over the Jordan will respond, one last time, ‘They are now.’” (pg 57)

So pick up this book, my brothers, my sisters!  These themes are just a crumb compared to the amazing feast of Scriptures that Moore illustrates in his book.  Every believer is adopted and we are all called to be involved in ministering to orphans in some way… maybe this book will help you know how God is calling you to be involved.

Abba, come quickly!

Bountifully Blessed

Recently my husband and I were talking through some financial issues.  The conversation left me worried, and my mind was spinning.  It was getting late, so I got ready for bed and snuggled under the covers with my Bible. How was I ever going to sleep with everything whirling around in my head like that?

Then the Lord lovingly led me to Psalm 116:5 & 7. “Gracious is the Lord, and righteous; yes, our God is compassionate…  Return to your rest, O my soul, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you.”

How true, indeed!  God has given us everything we need and then some.  Our family is healthy.  We have a warm house to live in, plenty of food to eat, a great church to attend, and a country where we can attend it without secrecy.  Even our finances – the very thing that I worried about – are a gift from Him.  God has always provided for us, and I have to trust that He will continue to do so.  Not that I want to be unwise or take advantage of his provisions in any way.  But His word says that he is gracious and compassionate – and I know from experience this is true. I need to rest – literally – in that knowledge.

So now whenever I start to get the slightest bit worried at night, I try to remind myself of God’s goodness with this phrase – “Return to your rest – you are bountifully blessed!”  Try it – it works!

That Doesn’t Seem Like Love

I’m doing a study right now that’s really rocked my world.  It’s Beth Moore’s Daniel study.  Earlier this week the lesson was on fiery trials (because of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego).  In that lesson, there were accounts of Christian martyrs who were burned at the stake for their beliefs.  I didn’t deal well with the graphic (to me) accounts.  I wept as I read them and was literally sick to my stomach for the entire next day.  The pain and suffering that these men endured seemed so…unfair.  After all, God delivered Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego from the fire.  Why couldn’t he deliver these martyrs as well or at least keep them from so much pain?

Beth Moore’s conclusion to the lesson was that no matter what the outcome of a trial, we can be sure that a loving God is standing in the midst of it with us.  “Well that’s just great,” the cynical me pouted. “He was there with them, but why didn’t he DO something?  That doesn’t seem like love to me.”  I knew I wasn’t supposed to feel that way, but I’m telling you, I really wrestled with God about it.

Then, in my quiet time the next day, it was as if the Lord washed a fierce wave of cleansing over me.  He led me to the end part of the book of Job.  Job was wondering why God had allowed so much suffering to come into his life.  God answered him, but not in the comforting way one might expect.  He answers by asking Job…well, I’ll just quote it:

“Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind and siad, ‘Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?…Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell Me if you have understanding.  Who set its measurements? Since you know…Then the Lord answered Job out of the storm and said, ‘Now gird up your loins like a man; I will ask you, and you instruct Me.  Will you really annul My judgment? Will you condemn Me that you may be justified? Or do you have an arm like God, and can you thunder with a voice like His?” Job 38:1-5; 40:6-9

Needless to say, Job was speechless. And so was I. Who am I to question the plans of the One who made the universe? Who am I to pout at what He deemed right? Who am I to judge His holy ways, as if I were the righteous one?

And who am I to say that He doesn’t seem like love?  He who endured the searing of whips, the blow of fists, the foulness of spit, the piercing of thorns, the agony of nails. For me.  He who went to face the fury of hell.  For me.  How could I ever, ever say that’s not love?  Maybe those martyrs had to face fires here on earth, but they didn’t have to face the fires of hell for eternity.  God may have let them suffer for a while, but he didn’t leave them to suffer forever.  He never promised them deliverance from pain, but he promised them deliverance from sin and eternity with Him.

Told you it rocked my world. And though I still pray vehemently that God does not see fit to put me or my family through any trial like that, I now take a position like Job’s: “I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear; but now my eye sees You; therefore I retract, and I repent…” (Job42:5-6) Because, God, You DO seem like love – all over again.

Mary the Mom

(Here is an article I wrote recently for our MOPS newsletter…)

Although I’ve read it several times, the account of Jesus’ birth took on a whole new dimension when I became a mom. I know that the star of the story is and always will be Jesus, but now I can’t help but think a little bit about Mary.  Mary the mom.

When I found out I was pregnant, I was stunned.  And I was told by a little plastic stick.  When Mary found out she was pregnant she was told by an angel.  And she had never had sex.  That takes “stunned” up a notch.  My “How can this be?” was pretty obvious, but her “How can this be?” was a legitimate question. (Luke 1:34) As a mom I wonder, how did she do it?

When my firstborn arrived, I was somewhat disturbed about the less-than-thirty-minute car ride to the nearest hospital.  Ok, so Mary took a donkey ride across the country right when she was due.  How did the girl do it?

I was freaking out when the very knowledgeable doctors insisted that I needed a c-section for the safety of my baby.  Mary delivered her baby by herself, in a stable, with no little heated basinet or clean blue and pink striped blanket or anything.  Man, how did she do it?

Then she held her baby in her arms.  You know the feeling.  The Bible doesn’t mention any of it, but you know how she felt. The first time, the very first hold.  The awe, the wonder, the baby smell.  The instant love mixed with instant fear.  The tinge of pride at what you just did for him and what you promise to provide for him. The joy, the relief. The dreams of what will be. The fierce sense of protectiveness.

This is where Mary really amazes me.  Beyond the angel and the donkey and the dirty barn—maybe I could do all that if I had to.  But Mary…Mary knew. She knew what was coming.  She knew who her baby was and what he would have to do.  She knew what he would endure.  Maybe not in detail, but in general…she knew.

Every time she rubbed his smooth baby back as he cuddled in the nook of her neck, did she think of the Roman whips that would tear that precious flesh?  Every time that little fist grasped her pinky, did she cringe at the thought of a nail piercing through it? Every time he took a step, did she grimace at the thought of the steps toward Calvary?

She knew.  She knew she would see her son suffer and die.  She was actually told that a sword would pierce her own soul. (Luke 2:35)  She knew the agony to come.  How on earth did she do it?

If I knew that one of my sons was going to scrape his knee I would insist on constant knee-pads.  If I knew he was going to be bullied somewhere, I would keep him home.  If I knew something unspeakable was going to happen to him, I would hand-cuff him to me for life.  Point is, the mom in me would do anything to avoid my baby experiencing any sort of pain.

But she also knew the promise.  That her baby would be the “salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.” (Luke 2:30-32) She knew that her Son was the Savior of the world.  She knew that through Him sins would be forgiven, souls would be healed, people would be brought from death to life.  She knew she needed Him.  Needed him more than he needed her—even as an infant.  She needed him as a woman who needs eternal peace with God.

Mary is a stronger woman than me. The mom in me would not be able to handle raising the Son of God.  How did she do it?  She focused on the promise and not on the pain.  She went from stunned to strong to saved because her Baby changed her life.  And He’s still changing lives today.

Messy With Purpose

Tinker Toys here, little cars there.  Mega-bloks strewn half-way down the hall.  Candy Land cards scattered everywhere.  Random toys covering the carpet as if a tornado had hit the toy box.  Pots “cooking” coasters under the table.  Dried-up peas making polka-dots on my kitchen rug.  And one shoe wedged between the wall and the refrigerator.  This is how you would usually find my house.

I have two toddlers.  Life is messy.  Play-dough gets ground into socks, mac-n-cheese gets smooshed into hair.  I have to do multiple laundry loads, multiple times a week.  That’s just the way it is.

I like Proverbs 14:4.  It says, “Where no oxen are, the manger is clean, but much revenue comes by the strength of the ox.”  Sure farming is messy (and smelly!).  But the farmer would never want a sparkling clean barn.  That would mean that his farm was not bringing in any money.  The purpose of the farm is to raise crops or animals – and to fulfill that purpose the barn (and the farmer) would have to get a little messy.

The mommy-version of the proverb might say, “Where no little ones are, the house is clean, but much joy comes by the laughter of the children.”  Or something like that.

One purpose of my home is to raise children who know that they are loved by God and loved by their parents.  We show our love by playing and tickling and wrestling and reading and coloring and disciplining and splashing and flippping and…well, lots more.  We love on each other by being together, by sharing together, by speaking kindly and purposefully to one another.  I want my kids to know the love of God by what they hear and see and do in our home.  And it may get a little messy in the process.

Another purpose of my home is to raise children who know how to love and serve others.  We enjoy having friends in our home to play with often.  How will my children learn how to share their toys if no one comes over to share with?  How will they learn to turn the other cheek if no one comes over and pushes them?  (Not that we like pushing, but everything can be a teachable moment) How will they learn how to speak respectfully to others if no one comes over to speak to?  I think that it’s important for my pre-schoolers to learn about how to behave around others right here in our home.  And we sure do have fun with our friends too!  But it does get a little messy in the process.

I understand the farmer in Proverbs 14:4.  I understand that sometimes there is purpose in messiness.  And right now I am willing to give up a sparkling clean house.  My purpose is to raise two boys who know God, love God, know others and love others – and to fulfill that purpose the house (and the mommy) are gonna have to get a little messy.

Hide & Seek

Usually a game of hide and seek with my three year old is a little haphazard.  When it’s his turn to hide, I find him in one of maybe three very obvious spots – beside the sofa, in my closet, or with his head under my pillow (yeah, just his head).   Sometimes he can’t even wait for me to find him.  When he hears “TEN!”, he runs out with a squeal.  “Here I am!” he exclaims.

When it’s my turn to hide, I’m a little bit more creative with the hiding spots.   However, his patience and perseverance in the seeking is a little lacking.  I hear the pitter-patter of his feet running from room to room, then a sudden, “Mommy, where are you?  I can’t find you!”

“I’m hiding!” I call from inside the shower.

“But I don’t see you,” he responds.

“Listen to my voice and come find me,” I yell.

Pitter-patter.  Pitter-patter.

“Can you find me?” I call again.  He’s only three – gotta give him a little help.

Pitter-patter.  Swoosh!  The shower curtain flies open with gusto.

“There you are, Mommy!  I found you!” he shouts proudly.

Even though he couldn’t see me, my son was able to find exactly where I was by listening to the sound of my voice.   I knew where he was the whole time.  It was up to him to listen and find me.

Sometimes it can seem as if God were hiding, right?

“God, where are you?  I can’t find you!”

“Listen to my voice and come find me,” He answers.

Listen.  How?  It’s not like He’s going to yell to me from behind the shower curtain.

I once was talking to a young woman about the Lord.  Although she had heard about God and about His gift of eternal life, she was not ready to trust Him as her Savior.  I asked her why she wasn’t ready.

“Oh I don’t know,” she said.  “I heard an illustration that God is like a father who’s lost his child in a store.  He’s searching up and down the aisles, calling the child’s name frantically, until He finds her.  I’ve never heard Him.  I guess He just hasn’t found me yet.”

Less than two hours before, we had both heard a speaker explain God’s love for us and His desire for everyone to come to Him for salvation.  I knew God was calling this lost child’s name.

“Well, that’s a nice illustration,” I told her.  “But have you ever considered that maybe God has found you?  In fact maybe He’s right behind you in the store, calling your name.  You just have to turn around and find Him.”

John 10:27-28 says, “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.  I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand.” (ESV, italics mine)

God is not hard to find.  In fact, when it comes to salvation, He’s more like my son.  “Here I am!” He beams through creation.  “Here I am!” He calls through His Word.  “Here I am!” He shouts through His grace and blessings in our lives.  He’s made it easy to find Him.  But it’s up to us to follow Him.

I think the same is true for those of us who already know Jesus as our Savior.  Sometimes circumstances in our lives make us wonder where God is.  “Where are you, God?” we shout, when we lose a loved one.  Or when our income is suffering.  Or when a prayer continues to go unanswered.

I don’t claim to have all the answers, but Matthew 7:7-8 says, “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and it will be opened to you.  For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks find, and to the one who knocks it will be opened.” (ESV)  According to this verse, if we ask, He will answer.  If we seek, we will find.  Keep at it.  I think there is an element of action in this verse, and in the whole of our Christian lives as well.  The verse doesn’t say, “Sit around and you will find.”  Even when it’s hard, I think we need to keep seeking.  Don’t be like my three-year-old – be patient; be perseverant.

God’s not hiding just for the fun of it.  We know he will answer.  After all, He knows we’re only human – gotta give us a little help!  He knows where we are the whole time.  Let’s listen and find Him.

That Fireplace Smell

I had to spend a couple days away at a conference this month.  My husband enjoyed his time as a “bachelor” by inviting some of his guy friends over one evening.  They bonded male-style with some wings, a movie, and a fire in the fireplace.  I was happy that he could have some extra time with some very encouraging friends.

But I was not so happy about the smell when I returned.  Fireplace smell.  My husband had done a good job cleaning out the ashes and vacuuming the carpet, but the smell still lingered.   Some people find the smell of fireplaces to be pleasant and comforting.  But in our home, it just smells old and stale and yucky to me.

I quickly got to work sweeping out even more ashes, vacuuming again, spraying the carpet with odor-killer, plugging in an air-freshner, and even disinfecting the fireplace.   I was determined to get rid of that smell.  But nothing seemed to do the trick.

The Bible says that we have a certain “smell” on us as Christians too.  2 Corinthians 2:14-17 says, “But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumph in Christ, and manifests through us the sweet aroma of the knowledge of Him in every place.  For we are a fragrance of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing; to the one an aroma from death to death, to the other an aroma from life to life.  And who is adequate for these things?  For we are not like many, peddling the word of God, but as from sincerity, but as from God , we speak in Christ in the sight of God.”

Our “smell” as believers is Christ on us – “the sweet aroma of the knowledge of Him.”  To believers we “smell” fragrant, like a perfume.   But to unbelievers we have an odor, a smell of death.    Isn’t it funny that the same smell could be stinky to one person and pleasant to another person?   It’s kinda like a fireplace – some think it smells good, but to me it smells awful.

But as for the Christ-smell on me, I say, stink it up!  I want more of His aroma on me all the time.  I want to smell sweetly of service and encouragement to my sisters in Christ.  And I want to be super-stinky to the unbelievers around me too!  Let them breathe Him in at 100 percent potency.  No sweeping him away or covering Him up with an “air-freshener” of over-tolerance or timidity.  Why should I care what they think of my “perfume”, of my testimony?  Let the world turn up their noses, but I want to smell like Jesus.

With a few days of open windows, thanks to the warmer weather, our house smells normal again.  But in my words and actions, I want to spray on more of that sweet Christ-smell every day.    Sweet or stinky, I want people to know without a doubt what kind of fragrance I’m wearing – Eau de Jesus!

A Few of My Favorite Things: Magic Bullet

OK, I know it’s a cheesy info-mercial, but the Magic Bullet really does work, and I really do use it a lot.    I use mine to make smoothies for my son, make homemade baby-food, mix things for sauces, blend fresh blueberries into pancake batter, and create vegetable purees to freeze and add to recipes.  It’s so much easier to clean than a blender, and it works better than a blender too, I think.  We’ve used it twice today already!  I got mine as a Christmas gift, but if you go to Kohl’s they have them for a reasonable price (plus I always wait for the monthly Kohl’s coupons whenever I shop there).