Lessons

My oldest daughter is starting school in 4 days! 4 Days! I am not prepared for this. She is so excited! I want to keep her little forever.
The other day when it was time for bed, she decided that she wanted to pray alone. She actually told me that I wasn't invited to her talk with God. I don't know where she comes up with this stuff.
So there I stood, outside her room in the hall, watching my precious baby kneeling beside her bed. Her little hands clasped in together under her chin. I didn't hear much of what she said, but she said it with such excitement. She even laughed a few times. Maybe she was telling God a knock-knock joke. Who knows. She finally called me into her room to tuck her in.
I asked her what she prayed about. She said,"Mom, the things I say to God are just between me and him. I can tell him secret stuff. Stuff I don't tell you and Daddy. He doesn't mind what I say as long as I say it." I smiled at her and tucked her into bed and kissed her smart little head.
I think I have been outsmarted by a 4 year old. She has learned something in her short life that has taken me years to learn. She has learned that God doesn't care what you pray for, as long as you pray! She talks to God as a friend and confidant. I have always talked to God and asked for things. I thank him for all I have been given, but I always ask for something.
I listened to Hannah a little closer last night. She doesn't ask for things. She just talks to God. She tells him about her day. She tells him thank you for the rain. She actually has a conversation! I am going to start praying like that. I think you can ask God for things, but he already knows how things are going to turn out. Maybe all he really wants is to be acknowledged.
And maybe told a good knock-knock joke!

The Begining of a True Understanding

I am currently reading a book by Brennan Manning called "The Furious Longing of God." I am only about two chapters into it, but I have to tell you I am really liking it.
My relationship with the Father has been tumultuous to say the least. It has been a roller coaster that no one would want to ride. I am currently trying to get a true understanding of God. I know hte scriptures. I was a pro at Bible trivia back in the day. I know what it says. I just have a lack of understanding.
Anyone can read the Bible and interpret it. The Bible has been interpretated many times by people of the same religions. Many Christian groups read the same Bible, but have many different ways of saying the same thing.
As a Baptist I was raised that when you die, if you take the Father into your heart and ask for forgivness, you are assured a place in heaven. It is where your soul goes as soon as it leaves the body. You all know John 3:16. "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life." But if you actually read the passage before it states, "No one has ever gone into heaven except one man who came from heaven- the Son of Man." John 3:13. Now I take this to mean that no one has ever actually been to Heaven except Jesus. That would mean that when you die you get put in a grave and there you sit waiting on the Son to return and take you to Heaven.
I kind of have an easier time believing this anyway. Jehovah's Witness' believe that you do not go to heaven when you die. They believe that during the Rapture all the souls of the Christians will inherit the earth (excpet for those that were invited into heaven.).
I have learned that in my upbringing, I was told that there was a certain way of doing things. Unfortunatly, I have decided that just because one person says it, in the name of Christ of course, does not actually make it so. I believe that you have to try to interpret things on your own. If Christ lives in you, He will show you the way. I am working on listening to the Spirit within myself to make my self a better person. I am reading some things that hopefully will lead me in the way of the Lord and not stray as I have the past decade.
I believe I have a long journey ahead of me. I will stand couragious in my Christian ways. Even though I will faulter, I will stand strong in believing that God has a plan for me. I am going to try harder to listen to it.

Different Strokes

Today I was once again bombarded with questions about faith. I was questioning myself. I feel very strongly about my views as a Christian, but I am also open to listening to other views. You never know when someone might strike something in you that makes you think.

Today I was thinking alot about deception. Most ministers will preach that deception is a sin. I believe this to be true. I also believe many people that hold themselves to be Christ-like are among to biggest deceivers. In the church they are good, wholesome Christians. They come off as perfect. But when the service is over, they return to their sinnin' ways. I always call them Sunday Morning Christians. The one's I always say have God at the dinner table, but don't invite him out with thier friends. Anyway, when the preacher says deception is a sin and the people that allow it will burn in hell, it always gets a big AMEN! But when someone calls these same people out for sinning they say they are being picked on.

I'm not saying that they shouldn't be called out. I believe that in order to repent, first one must know what they are repenting. You can't pray for someone to be freed of their sins. You have to pray with that person and help them in asking for God's forgiveness to free them. You can't pray other people into heaven. I wish you could. That would be a lot easier.

I was saved when I was about 7 and again when I was in high school. I didn't feel as though it was my idea the first time. I was raised that once you were saved you were always saved. I have asked God's forgiveness for my sins, so in his eyes I am forgiven. Whether anyone else believes it or not.

I know we are to be Christ-like and in all honesty, I think I am. I am a good person. I help those in need. I am a good mother. I don't lie. I don't cheat and I don't steal. I am respectful and I am gratful. But I am also a sinner. I sometimes let my mouth override my mind and I have days as a mother that I would really like to sell my children. But at the end of everyday, I pray for God's everlasting forgiveness again. I pray to have patience with my co-workers and children. I pray to be a better wife and a better mother. I pray for God to help me to be a better person.

I have to believe that the Sunday Morning Christians do the same thing. None of us are perfect, not even for an hour. We must all strive to be more like Christ in our actions and thoughts. Everyone has their own beliefs. As a Christian, we must try to respect each other more and share our beliefs with each other. Otherwise we are just decieving ourselves.

Little Miracles, Big Miracles, It Doesn't Matter

I got pregnant.


We had been trying for three years. I had been diagnosed with PCOS. Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. I was alone at the doctors when I got the news. God was not on my side. I was pretty sure he hated me as much as I hated him.


The night that I found out I was pregnant was the first time God and I had a conversation in ten years. I apologized. He forgave me. It was that easy. I prayed every single day of my pregnancy. I was sure that God was going to take my happiness away. I was scared and waiting for the other ball to drop.


It didn't. I had a normal pregnancy. It was wonderful. I love being pregnant. I am happiest while pregnant. My husband would probably not completely agree with that.

When I had Hannah, it was almost as though God was speaking to me. To have faith that everything can be okay. When I had Heidi almost two years later, I was certain that God had put me on this Earth to be an amazing mother to these two beautiful little girls. It was my calling.

In the four years that I have been a mother, I have struggled daily with the ins and outs of raising them. I want them to be happy and fulfilled. I pray every night that God make them whomever they want to be. I pray for their health and I pray for their happiness. But most of all I think God for giving me the best gift in the world. My children have opened me to a new understanding of Christ's love. if he can give me these things without getting anything in return, then perhaps he is not the harsh monster I thought him to be for so many years.

I am daily tested to keep my faith in God, but daily he is showing me that he is there. When I get home and see my children's faces, I am in awe of his power. Every thing they do seems like a miracle to me. Things as small as drawing a circle for the first time or trying to get dresses like a big girl are things that I can find the faith of Christ's unfailing love in.

If he can love me enough to give me these girls, then perhaps I should try a little harder to love him enough to appreciate them.

You Don't Find Faith

I was raised Southern Baptist. My mother was adament about my sister and I going to church. We went three times a week. I loved it. I loved singing and learning about God's everlasting love. When we visited my grandparents I would sing in church. It made Grandpa so proud. Then my parents got divorced. I was in 4th grade and didn't understand. This was before 50% of marriages were failing. I didn't know anyone that was divorced. Actually, I just didn't realize that they were.
But it was okay. Dad and Iweren't close and my parents still had a civil realationship. My mom got remarried a year later and moved my sister and I to her hometown. We lived right across town from my grandparents. It was great. I went to church with them and loved it too! Then Grandpa got cancer.
Then I lost my faith in God. I can tell you exactly when it all happened. December 6, 1996. The day that my grandpa died. The moment that I found out about it is burned into my head like a brand. I was 12. I was at a high school basketball game on a Friday evening. I was planning on spending the night at my best friends house. I had dressed up and put on makeup to look good for my "boyfriend". He wasn't there. I was walking around, which is what you do in a small town when you are in 7th grade. I happened to be walking by the band and one of my friends said that they were sorry to hear about my grandpa. I said thank you and then it hit me. Like the proverbial ton of bricks. I said, "What?" She said, "Oh, you didn't know." At this point I sat down and just started bawling. I sobbed and bawled for what seemed like an eternity. Then mmy preachers wife came and sat down next to me. She asked me if I wanted to go home. I told her yes and I sobbed the whole way to my house.
The next few days are a complete blur. I remember being at my Mammy's house and people bringing food. There were casserole dishes and toilet paper everywhere. I didn't ever want to leave. I just sat in his chair and read and reread the funnies in the paper. I laid on the porch swing that he had helped me do my homework on not one month before. I climbed in his pickup and pressed my head against the seat so I could smell him and cried so much I couldn't breathe.
The day of the funeral, I wore a black and white dress with white knee socks. I sat in the pew between my mother and stepdad and hid my face in my stepdad's arm so I wouldn't have to see the casket. It didn't work. It was blue. I remeber noticing that it was slightly off center from the pulpit. That bothered me. I can't tell you who spoke. I can't tell you what was sung. I know that I couldn't get out of that church fast enough. My mother sped my sister and I out as fast as she could. Every one was looking at us. And all I remember thinking was that God had let me down. He took the one person that had always been there when I needed him and I was mad!
Looking back, it was a very selfish thing for me to think. For weeks I couldn't even look at my mom. She was the baby in her family and she and her daddy had always been the closest. I was hte baby of mine and Mom and I had the same connection. Grandpa loved us so much and we loved him back ten times that much.
I hated God for what he had done. I hated him for a long time. Ten years to be exact. Then things changed.