If you are reading this, congratulations. Nobody was meant to find this, but I guess you were, because you did. You've found an easter-egg post. Yay you!
I was walking down the hall at work the other day and noticed my reflection in a window as I passed a dimly-lit room. As I don't normally see myself walking, and it was from profile view, I noticed something I had never noticed before. In a fleeting moment, I saw what my butt looks like when I walk.
It was an interesting thing, I must say. Now, I don't pay much attention to anyone's butt, but I couldn't help but think about them for awhile after seeing mine. A few different thoughts went through my head, primarily the following:
Butts are interesting things.
Almost beings in themselves.
The way the wiggle and jiggle
And giggle as they follow along.
They go to-and-fro
When we walk slow
And bounce up-and-down
At a brisk pace;
Not quite with the rest of the body
Kind of just in their own way
As if having a mind of their own
Shown in their refusal
To conform to our movements.
Yes, there you have it, something of a poem about butts. That's right, you've never really seen it all.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Our Story: Overcoming Guilt with Grace
Four years ago, when my relationship was new, I drove my man around because I had a car and he did not yet have his license. It's no secret that I am older than him, and that used to be hard for me, but he got his license a few months later, then graduated high school and grew up and the age difference has made less of a difference each passing year.
Anyway, when the relationship was new and we didn't know everything about each other, I struggled to let him see the real me. I didn't want to scare him away, but I didn't think it was fair to try to hide things about myself that were so much a part of me. One thing I certainly could not try to hide any longer was my standing with God.
"God hates me and I'm going to hell, anyway." I would say, too often.
See, I grew up in a Missouri Synod Lutheran church. Nothing against the Lutherans, they're Christians, too, but my church growing up preached forgiveness, but with a heavy emphasis on works. It always seemed to me that we were only forgiven if we just didn't sin. So, to my seventeen year-old mind, since I was a sinner, I must not be saved.
Driving Garth home from school one day, I said again, "well, I'm going to hell anyway." Garth just looked at me and asked, "Do you love God? Do you believe in Jesus? And that He died on the cross to forgive your sins?"
To which my reply was, "Yes."
"Well then, you're forgiven. If you love God, that means God loves you, which means Jesus died for you, which means you are forgiven, and you will go to heaven!"
It hit me like a ton of bricks. Suddenly, everything made so much sense! I felt so much relief, so much comfort in those words. His words changed my life.
It wasn't until about a month after that discussion that I really learned true forgiveness, however. As we said our goodbyes in the car one night, we leaned in for a kiss, and I stopped. I suddenly felt overwhelmed with the pieces of me he didn't know yet; not physically, but the deep down, dark past side of me. I knew right then and there that I had to tell him. I started, "There's something I need to tell you..." but the words just wouldn't come. Instead, there were tears. Swelling up in my eyes, trying to breach the dam, but I held them back, which only made it harder to talk.
"Would it help if I went first?" he asked.
I nodded, then he proceeded to tell me the biggest shames he had in his past. The past he was trying to get away from. The old him he didn't want to be anymore.
What a relief those words were to me -- and at a moment when I didn't even suspect that he knew where this conversation was going. I understood this person who was speaking to me, and felt closer to him than ever at that moment.
I finally opened up and told him the sins I had committed, the biggest shames of my past. The old me I was trying to run away from.
"Bre," he said, calmly, taking my hand, "I forgive you."
"I forgive you, too" I replied.
We held each other, prayed together, and said goodnight.
On my drive home, I thought about the things that were said. How righteous we could think we were, or other people were, when really everyone has something they may be trying to hide. The biggest realization, the best comfort to me that night, was that if Garth could forgive me so quickly and freely because of his little, new, unprofessed love for me, then how much more quickly and freely did my heavenly Father with a great big, lifelong love for me forgive?
So much more! He forgave and loved so much more! And still does today. May you know that in your life, too.
Anyway, when the relationship was new and we didn't know everything about each other, I struggled to let him see the real me. I didn't want to scare him away, but I didn't think it was fair to try to hide things about myself that were so much a part of me. One thing I certainly could not try to hide any longer was my standing with God.
"God hates me and I'm going to hell, anyway." I would say, too often.
See, I grew up in a Missouri Synod Lutheran church. Nothing against the Lutherans, they're Christians, too, but my church growing up preached forgiveness, but with a heavy emphasis on works. It always seemed to me that we were only forgiven if we just didn't sin. So, to my seventeen year-old mind, since I was a sinner, I must not be saved.
Driving Garth home from school one day, I said again, "well, I'm going to hell anyway." Garth just looked at me and asked, "Do you love God? Do you believe in Jesus? And that He died on the cross to forgive your sins?"
To which my reply was, "Yes."
"Well then, you're forgiven. If you love God, that means God loves you, which means Jesus died for you, which means you are forgiven, and you will go to heaven!"
It hit me like a ton of bricks. Suddenly, everything made so much sense! I felt so much relief, so much comfort in those words. His words changed my life.
It wasn't until about a month after that discussion that I really learned true forgiveness, however. As we said our goodbyes in the car one night, we leaned in for a kiss, and I stopped. I suddenly felt overwhelmed with the pieces of me he didn't know yet; not physically, but the deep down, dark past side of me. I knew right then and there that I had to tell him. I started, "There's something I need to tell you..." but the words just wouldn't come. Instead, there were tears. Swelling up in my eyes, trying to breach the dam, but I held them back, which only made it harder to talk.
"Would it help if I went first?" he asked.
I nodded, then he proceeded to tell me the biggest shames he had in his past. The past he was trying to get away from. The old him he didn't want to be anymore.
What a relief those words were to me -- and at a moment when I didn't even suspect that he knew where this conversation was going. I understood this person who was speaking to me, and felt closer to him than ever at that moment.
I finally opened up and told him the sins I had committed, the biggest shames of my past. The old me I was trying to run away from.
"Bre," he said, calmly, taking my hand, "I forgive you."
"I forgive you, too" I replied.
We held each other, prayed together, and said goodnight.
On my drive home, I thought about the things that were said. How righteous we could think we were, or other people were, when really everyone has something they may be trying to hide. The biggest realization, the best comfort to me that night, was that if Garth could forgive me so quickly and freely because of his little, new, unprofessed love for me, then how much more quickly and freely did my heavenly Father with a great big, lifelong love for me forgive?
So much more! He forgave and loved so much more! And still does today. May you know that in your life, too.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
The Fruits of Meaningful Motivation
For weeks I have come to my computer drained and mentally exhausted. The last thing on my mind has been writing in any form other than comments on facebook statuses. I don't even know when I last updated my own status.
Today, however, my mind is buzzing with thoughts and ideas. Things to write, things to do. I sat down and took apart a seam on a dress that is a tad too big for me with plans to take out the original elastic and replace it with a smaller size.
Early last week I set up my formerly exiled sewing machine and resolved to figure out how to use it over the weekend. So today I sat down the with the owner's manual and fiddled around for a few hours and tried a few test stitches, and will hopefully be ready to stitch my dress back up in the next two days. I plan to be able to make a skirt on my own by the end of the summer. Then on to a bean-bag chair. And I'm not kidding. If the bean-bag chair works out, I promise promise promise to post pictures for once in the history of this blog.
I think my energy today is partially from the sunshine and warm weather that has been so impatiently awaited all week. I was cranky about the weather on the way to church because of the cold, cloudy morning, but as we were in the service, the sky transformed from a gray sheet of gloom to a beautiful, open sky of gladness and possibility. It made me happy. It made me rejoice. It made me think of what today means, this day we call "Palm Sunday."
As Jesus entered Jerusalem humbly on a colt, this happened:
"As he was drawing near - already on the way down the Mount of Olives - the whole multitude of his disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen, saying, "Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!" And some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, rebuke your disciples." He answered, "I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.""
(Luke 19:37-40)
The book of Mark tells us that the people were tearing leaves off the palm trees and waving them before Jesus as they praised Him, thus the name Palm Sunday. But read that last thing Jesus says in the passage from Luke, his answer to the Pharisees. If we did not praise Him, the rocks would cry out! I felt so much this morning, as the clouds cleared and revealed a great blue sky that God was opening His arms and receiving our praise. The skies themselves were in worship this morning.
I know what I stand for, and I stand for it without fear of rejection or persecution. Even if I am silenced, there are still so many more proclaiming the name of our holy God. The work of God cannot be silenced. He will receive glory. The world can try to silence us, and when the last Christian on earth is put to rest, the earth itself would proclaim the name of God. Imagine the spectacle that would be!
Today, however, my mind is buzzing with thoughts and ideas. Things to write, things to do. I sat down and took apart a seam on a dress that is a tad too big for me with plans to take out the original elastic and replace it with a smaller size.
Early last week I set up my formerly exiled sewing machine and resolved to figure out how to use it over the weekend. So today I sat down the with the owner's manual and fiddled around for a few hours and tried a few test stitches, and will hopefully be ready to stitch my dress back up in the next two days. I plan to be able to make a skirt on my own by the end of the summer. Then on to a bean-bag chair. And I'm not kidding. If the bean-bag chair works out, I promise promise promise to post pictures for once in the history of this blog.
I think my energy today is partially from the sunshine and warm weather that has been so impatiently awaited all week. I was cranky about the weather on the way to church because of the cold, cloudy morning, but as we were in the service, the sky transformed from a gray sheet of gloom to a beautiful, open sky of gladness and possibility. It made me happy. It made me rejoice. It made me think of what today means, this day we call "Palm Sunday."
As Jesus entered Jerusalem humbly on a colt, this happened:
"As he was drawing near - already on the way down the Mount of Olives - the whole multitude of his disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen, saying, "Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!" And some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, rebuke your disciples." He answered, "I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.""
(Luke 19:37-40)
The book of Mark tells us that the people were tearing leaves off the palm trees and waving them before Jesus as they praised Him, thus the name Palm Sunday. But read that last thing Jesus says in the passage from Luke, his answer to the Pharisees. If we did not praise Him, the rocks would cry out! I felt so much this morning, as the clouds cleared and revealed a great blue sky that God was opening His arms and receiving our praise. The skies themselves were in worship this morning.
I know what I stand for, and I stand for it without fear of rejection or persecution. Even if I am silenced, there are still so many more proclaiming the name of our holy God. The work of God cannot be silenced. He will receive glory. The world can try to silence us, and when the last Christian on earth is put to rest, the earth itself would proclaim the name of God. Imagine the spectacle that would be!
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