Open the Door

Revelation 3:19
Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline.  So be earnest, and repent.  Here I am! I stand at the door and knock.  If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.


I am attending a women's conference called, "Inspire for Life" this weekend at a church in my town.  Friday night was a two-hour introduction of sorts.  It's hard to explain what was discussed so much as what was felt.  Tonight's purpose, to me anyway, seemed to be to open our hearts so that we could be free to learn and hear whatever we were called to the conference to hear. 

Various bible verses were mentioned, and when I got home I started paging through my bible to find them and read them over myself.  On my way to a verse in the book of Revelation I came across a verse that I had underlined sometime in the last 10 - 12 years I've had this particular bible.  It's the verse you see above.  I obviously underlined it so that I could find it again and read it at some other point. 

The Lord constantly knocks on my door.  Sometimes I answer it, sometimes I chose to ignore the knock, sometimes by ignoring the knock at the door I find myself getting knocked directly on my head... Hey! Pay attention, I'm trying to talk to you.  This weekend while I'm at this conference, I have opened the door and am looking forward to "eating" with the Lord.  I'm looking forward to seeing what it is that He wants me to take from this, and what He will put in my heart. 

How amazing is it that all we have to do is open the door.

Why I don't do Resolutions

***Disclaimer: Lots of people like, and follow through with, new years resolutions. This post is by no means designed to boo-hoo you into giving up the whole resolution idea... I just have.***


I said it a year ago, and I'll say it again today, I don't do new years resolutions anymore.  I never fulfill them which leaves me feeling like an inadequate failure, so why set myself up?

A year ago, instead of a "resolution" I made a "to do" list.  Same stinking difference really, except instead of one thing it was a list... a list of things to possibly accomplish, possibly fail at.
Perhaps the problem is in the timing.  Perhaps making a resolution or to-do list on the first of the year is the problem.  Perhaps the reason why is because when we make a new years resolution, and then fail on day fillintheblank, we figure its over, admit defeat, and go back to our old ways?

Now I don't think we should just avoid setting goals for ourselves.  We need to grow as people throughout our lives, and goal setting is definitely a part of that, but maybe resolutions or similar goal-setting should not be done on the first of the year?

From New Year's Eve's standpoint, however, the first of the year is a convenient time to set goals and track them from.  This time of year many people are reflecting on their past year, habits, and things they'd like to change.  So much so that it has a fad-esk sort of feel to it.  And we all know what happens with fads... they eventually die, only to be reborn again at a later date (like the next December 31st).  That's not to say that all resolutions will fail, mine just tend to! :o)

In the past year I did not get my gold belt, but that's fine.  I didn't get as organized as I'd like to be, but I definitely made progress.  Though I wouldn't say I'm in better shape than I was before, I am thinner and feeling better about all that.  I'm going to have to start actually exercising if I am going to get stronger... and I just plain don't want to.

While I didn't accomplish all my to-do list goals, I did have an eventful year.  I somehow managed to keep blogging most days throughout the past year (which for me is amazing since most forms of entertainment don't hold my interest beyond 2 or 3 weeks!).  I successfully cooked a steak, it was delicious.  I had an amazing time doing The Sound of Music with Sweet Pea last summer.  We became godparents to the son of some dear friends of ours.  I met new people, made new friends.  I've continued to grow in my faith and read the Bible more often.  Overall I've had a pretty good year.  Money has been tight but Spencer, the kids, and I are closer than ever!

I'm still trying to become more organized. I am working on remembering that while I have free will and make choices for myself, it is God who is in control of the big picture of my life and His timing and plan are perfect. While I'm optimistic at heart, when things get stressful I have a hard time noticing the silver linings, and I am trying to slow down and see the good more often.  I will continue to strive to teach my children to be considerate of others, respectful of themselves and others, empathetic, to think for themselves, and to help them grow their relationship with God. 

There are a million other things I'd like to accomplish this year, and I will take them one at a time, but I'm not making a resolution or an official goal for 2011.  I'm just going to take things one day at a time and keep plugging away at the things about myself and my life that I want to work on.

What has been your history with resolutions? How do you feel about New Years Resolutions?

Wait... What? I'm NOT in Control??

Sort of a stream of consciousness post here, as I'm still working through this realization and what it all means.

I may be just a little bit of a control freak.  While I don't always know the best way to do things, I tend to think that, in the moment, my way is correct.  I don't know what it is that makes some of us feel the need to control most aspects of our lives, but I feel really anxious when I feel out of control of a situation.  Luckily for the people around me, I usually remain pretty calm while I try to take control, but I know this part of my personality has been frustrating for Spencer, among others. 

I tended to take the lead in group projects in school... which made me dislike group projects because I wanted things done a certain way and would become a little anxious about how someone else would do things.  I was passive about it, not sticking my neck out too far, not putting up a fight, but internally I'd be grumbling.

I am the type of person who needs to know what is coming, what is in the near and not so near future.  I need to have a plan in order to feel secure.  I couldn't just go to college and get a business degree and figure out what I would do later, I went to college for very specific career paths (which resulted in a few track changes and a few credits wasted) because even in high school the thought of not having a plan made me uncomfortable.

Here's the thing though... very little of my life has gone according to my plan.  I always knew I wanted to get married and have children young, but my husband and I were blessed with an amazing baby girl long before we planned to get married.  I originally thought I'd be a paralegal, and when law class bored the heck out of me I changed my plan to being a sign language interpreter.  I really enjoyed that career track, but my plans have a way of changing on me.  We had our daughter, I gave daycare a shot at a daycare center because I had always thought it might be a good fit for me, and I suddenly realized that the whole sign language thing was not the right job for me but could be a wonderful background for this new job that I love!

I planned on having our second child a couple years after Sweet Pea was born, but that wouldn't be the case.

I could go on and on about how my plans change and how every time they do I feel really nervous about it until I realize that the new road was exactly where I needed to be.  I plan and plan and try to control things around me, but it usually doesn't work out how I want it to.

So I'm beginning to realize that, get this, I'm not in control of my life... or anyone else's for that matter.  I can do my best and plan and try and work but I'm still not the one in control.  I can trust that God will take care of us and trust His plan for me, but until I truly accept the fact that I have NO control over the big picture of my life, then how much can I really be trusting Him?  I feel like I've been saying and believing that I trust Him to handle things, but then I struggle against His will and try to take control.  It sounds absolutely ridiculous to say that I've been trying to control things despite His plan. 

God has shown me again and again and again how very different our plans are and how much better his plan is than mine, yet it's taken me all this time to really truly come to this understanding.  I'm struggling with it, and trying to reflect and be still and understand this.

The idea that I'm not actually in control of my life is both freeing and terrifying.  If I can't control things, then anything could happen at any moment, including bad things.  But if I were in control of my life, I could lead myself and my family down the wrong road.  But I know that God is in control and will lead me where I need to go if I just let Him.  That's not to say that I think I can just sit back and float along.  I think I need to pray, and listen to what He's putting in my heart, and follow that the best I can.... and truly trust His plan for me.

Momma Getting Fresh with Santa?

I could tell you more about being sick, but I just coughed up some nasty stuff so I'm going to change the topic for a minute.

You're Welcome.

It's Christmas season, my favorite time of the year when I'm not stressing out or freezing my hiney off!  This means it's also time for Christmas music, and time for me to cry at nearly every other one.  The classic Christmas songs make me instantly reflect on a time 2000 years ago.  A time when a tiny baby was born in the most modest of birthplaces.  The fact that I know that baby grew up to teach us about God's word, the kind of life we should strive for, and because humans can never live a sinless life he would eventually die so that our sins could be forgiven and we could join Him in Heaven, brings tears to my eyes often.  Sounds like a Savior to me!

That said, not all Christmas songs have that effect. 

Take "I saw Mama kissing Santa Clause" for instance.  When I was a little kid I remember being confused as to why it was a cute song.  Why would people sing a song about a mom kissing another man... while the family sleeps... on Christmas eve! 

I guess to me it was a cutsie song about a married woman getting fresh with an old bearded man, not a cutsie song about some forthcoming bedroom role-playing scene!

Come to think of it, either way, that song disturbs me.

Conclusion of Our Story of Grief and Joy

If you haven't been following along, you'd probably want to go back and start from the beginning.  Click here to start with Part 1.

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When my last post ended I was over 39 weeks pregnant, and very excited to meet my little baby!  And to find out if I'd been growing a boy or a girl for the past 39 weeks!

On October 24, 2006 I went to my OB appointment while a friend watched my daycare kids and Sweet Pea.  My appointment was at 10:00, after doing all the typical checks, my nurse practitioner told me she'd try to strip my membranes so I could maybe go into labor... this time she was able to do it!

I had already been having strong contractions (like serious contractions... real labor contractions that just weren't becoming speeding up or growing progressively stronger, but strong enough to wake me up) about 20 minutes apart for a solid 33 hours, so I knew it would be soon.  I had told my NP that I hadn't been sleeping at night, so she gave me a couple pills and told me to go home, send my daycare kids home, find someone to watch Sweet Pea and take a long nap so I could be rested up for labor. 

No nap would be had though, because on my way home (about a 20 minute drive) my contractions started picking up, and when I got home I started timing them.  By the time I got home at 11:00 my contractions were 7 minutes apart and I called all the daycare parents to pick up the kiddos!  At 12:30 they were in the 5-7 minutes apart range and I called the hospital, and was told to come in!  Our hospital was a good 30 minutes away with no traffic, so we weren't going to wait around for the 5 minutes apart mark.  I called Spence and told him, "It's time!" and he hurried home.  All the kids were picked up very quickly since I had called them at 11:00, and everyone was out of the house by the time Spencer got home and grabbed some last minute things.

On the way to the hospital my contractions had gotten really strong and I was getting very impatient while we made our way to the hospital... all I could think of was one word... "Epidural" and the sooner we got there, the sooner I'd have an anesthesiologist in the room!  We were all set up in PETU to be evaluated at 2:15 in the afternoon.  My water broke in PETU, but it wasn't a gush and they weren't sure it had broke until much later.  But I had felt something pop down there, and when I told the nurse that, she said it was probably water breaking, and that we would get me to a room.

At 3:30 I was moved to a Labor/Delivery room.  After waiting entirely too long, I finally got my epidural at 4:15, felt one more contraction, and was then pain-free!  The next few hours of labor found me the most relaxed and comfortable I'd been in months thank to that wonderful medicine! 

About 3 hours later, and after a short nap (epidurals mean you have a good chance of actually taking a nap during labor... Thank you Mr. Anesthesiologist!!) I was 10 cm dilated and ready to push!

I started pushing at 7:33, and I told them to have the doctor ready because my first child had been born after only 11 minutes of pushing, so I was ready for this to go pretty quickly.  While I wasn't feeling any pain at all, I could feel the pressure, and when I heard the nurses and doctor telling me things like, "That's it!" I would just keep pushing like I was. 

I could barely even feel the baby crowning, and after having a worn off epidural with Sweet Pea believe me.. that's not a fun thing to feel!  I could feel that she was there, but no pain.  After pushing for 21 minutes, our baby came out and was handed right up to me on my chest, that's when I saw she was a GIRL!

I don't think there is anything as amazing and precious as holding your baby in your arms for the first time!  They wiped her off as best they could while she stayed on my chest, and without even thinking about all the stuff that covers a newborn baby, I was kissing her little forehead... I had waited long enough for that!

It was a very emotional moment, and while I was completely exhausted I was blown away by how long we had waited for this very moment.  By how much we had gone through to get to this very moment, holding our child in our arms after waiting 2 1/2 years, after losing three babies, after all those tests and ultrasounds, and constant worry, and sleepless nights, we were finally holding her, memorizing every thing about her, and thanking God for this miracle!

My birth experience with Babydoll was absolutely wonderful.  My nurse was always there when I needed her, the lights were dim, the room was quiet and calm, my epidural worked like a charm.  It was so serene and beautiful. 

I was really nervous about nursing Babydoll, because that had been difficult with Sweet Pea, but she was nursing like a champ immediately!

I was completely in love.  I didn't mind waking up with her in the middle of the night to feed her, it was nice to hold her and cuddle her in the quiet hour of 3AM.  One night when she was about 1 month old, it was just me and her cuddling on the couch, I was smiling at her, she was smiling at me, and I was thinking about how much I love her and how glad I was to have her.  Then I started to cry.

I hadn't really cried yet since she was born, and at that moment it all came flooding out.  I was expecting tears of joy, but what I wasn't expecting was this.  Tears of guilt

This emotion was unexpected and I just lost it.  I started crying because I felt guilty for loving her so much, it was only because my last 3 babies had miscarried that she was even here.  I felt like I was letting them down, like I was a traitor to their memory for being so completely overjoyed to have her in my life.  And then of course I felt guilty for feeling guilty for loving her!  I just held her and cried.  It was a relatively short period of guilt, and I'm not sure how I got over it except that I knew God wanted her in my life.  I knew after 2.5 years of heartache and struggle, she was meant to be.  She was our little miracle.  I've wondered ever since then if other women have had similar emotions after they've gone through something similar to what we've gone through.  If you have, please speak up so I know I'm not alone!

All of my children are miracles to me, I am amazed when I really look at them how God has blessed me more than I could ever deserve.  How could I possibly be so lucky as to have these three children to call my own?  Except that they are not my own, they are children of God and have been entrusted to us to take care of them.  To raise them to be compassionate, gracious, polite, hardworking, serving of the Lord, adults who will go out and make positive changes in the world.  They are all blessings, but my second baby is the one who most reminds me that we were all created for a purpose.  A purpose we may never understand in our lifetime, but a clear purpose in Gods eyes.  She was meant to be here, in our family, in our little speck of the world, and I pray that one day she will understand just what a miracle she is.

The Death of a Pet

I think one of the hardest parts about childhood is when a pet dies.  When my husband, Spencer, turned 13 years old he got a Springer/Basset Hound puppy.  After an argument with his mom regarding what is an "ok" name for a dog, (he wanted Wadlo and his mom told him he should give him a real name like Spot.  Spence threw a brief hissy fit (from what I can imagine of him at 13) and said that, "Fine, I'll name him Spot."  Spot was Spencer's dog but the greatest bond was between Spot and Spencer's dad.  When it came time for Spence to move out, Spot stayed with them.

Over the years Spot became a regular at the Burger King drive-through, Super America, and anywhere else he could convince people to give him some yummy people food.  He survived climbing up a tree, eating rat poison, eating way more chocolate than it would take to take out a normal  dog, and managed to not be murdered or given away when he would eat several dozen Christmas cookies every year that my mother-in-law made to give away as gifts to local businesses.  This dog dodged a lot of bullets.  This spring Spot turned 16 years old, which for a large breed dog, is very very old.

Over the past few months Spot has been in a lot of pain, but the pain had been manageable with medication, and Spot carried on with his life with only the difficulties of being slow, sleepy, and with some degree of blindness/deafness.  This past weekend, however, he took a turn for the worse and had been having a harder time.  This afternoon he past away.

We had been preparing Sweet Pea for this day for a while, the last time a family pet died she took it very hard, sobbing everytime she saw a dog of that breed, and sobbing anytime she thought of this dog.  So we had been talking to her about how old Spot was getting, how he's in pain, and that pretty soon it would be his time to die.

Just last week she told me that, "Pretty soon Spot is going to celebrate his last day alive, and then it will be his time to go."  Little did I know at the time just how accurate those words were.  When Spot died today, she was over at my in-law's (they live down the street) and was told, but didn't see his body.  I wasn't there to see how she took the news, but she seemed very ok about it when she came home an hour later.  Preparing her for this day had helped a lot.

Then I had to tell Babydoll.  After talking about how Spot is very very old, and very very sick, and how when people get old and sick we have medicine that can make us better, but dogs can't have that kind of medicine (I just didn't want her to worry when she hears about relatives getting old or sick with a cold that they are just going to die).  I told her that Spot died today, and his soul has gone to live in heaven with Chloe (the other family pet that she remembers dying).  She was ok with that, she wasn't terribly upset, and she wants to see where he's buried.  I think it helped telling her that Spot was in heaven running around with Chloe now and he feels better there.

The only thing is that, while I like the idea of our pets going to heaven, I don't really know if they do.  Now if that's the case, then I just lied to my children about what happens to our beloved pets when they died, and will need to discuss it further when they are older and more capable of coping with such a loss, but until then it makes us all feel better to imagine Spot, and all our past beloved pets, running around among our deceased loved ones.

My question to you, if you have kids and have been in this situation, what did you tell your kids?  If you do not have kids but remember when you were a child and lost a pet, what did your parents tell you?  What do you believe happens to our pets when they die?

My Heart: Christ's Home part 2

Please part 1 of this devotional story, which was read to us at our church's Women's Retreat last weekend, before you read this part.  You can find it here.


THE WORKROOM


Before long, He asked, "Do you have a workroom in your home?" Out in the garage of the home of my heart I had a workbench and some equipment, but I was not doing much with it. Once in a while I would play around with a few little gadgets, but I wasn't producing anything substantial.  I led Him out there. He looked over the workbench and said, "Well, this is quite well furnished. What are you producing with your life for the Kingdom of God?" He looked at one or two little toys that I had thrown together on a bench and held one up to me. "Is this the sort of thing you are doing for others in your Christian life?" "Well," I said, "Lord, I know it isn't much, and I really want to do more, but after all, I don't seem to have strength or skill to do more."  “Would you like to do better?" He asked. "Certainly," I replied. "All right. Let me have your hands. Now relax in me and let my Spirit work through you. I know that you are unskilled, clumsy and awkward, but the Holy Spirit is the Master Workman, and if He controls your hands and you heart, He will work through you." Stepping around behind me and putting His strong hands under mine, He held the tools in His skilled fingers and began to work through me. The more I relaxed and trusted Him, the more He was able to do with my life.

THE REC ROOM


He asked me if I had a rec room where I went for fun and fellowship. I was hoping He would not ask about that. There were certain associations and activities that I wanted to keep for myself.  One evening when I was on my way out with some buddies, He stopped me with a glance and asked, "Are you going out?" I replied, "Yes." "Good," He said, “I would like to go with you." "Oh," I answered rather awkwardly." "I don't think, Lord Jesus, that you would really enjoy where we are going. Let's go out together tomorrow night. Tomorrow night we will go to a Bible class at church, but tonight I have another appointment." "I am sorry," He said. "I thought that when I came into your home, we were going to do everything together, to be close companions. I just want you to know that I am willing to go with you." "Well," I mumbled, slipping out the door, "we will go someplace together tomorrow night." That evening I spent some miserable hours. I felt rotten. What kind of friend was I to Jesus, deliberately leaving Him out of my life, doing things and going places that I knew very well He would not enjoy?  When I returned that evening, there was a light in His room, and I went up to talk it over with Him. I said "Lord, I have learned my lesson. I know now that I can't have a good time without You. From now on, we will do everything together." Then we went down into the rec room of the house. He transformed it. He brought new friends, new excitement, and new joys. Laughter and music have been ringing through the house ever since.

THE HALL CLOSET


One day I found Him waiting for me at the door. An arresting look was in His eye. As I entered, He said to me, "There is a peculiar odor on the house. Something must be dead around here. It's upstairs. I think it is in the hall closet." As soon as He said this, I knew what He was talking about. There was a small closet up there on the hall landing, just a few feet square. In that closet, behind lock and key, I had one or two little personal things that I did not want anyone to know about. Certainly, I did not want Christ to see them. I knew they were dead and rotting things left over from the old life. I wanted them so for myself that I was afraid to admit they were there.  Reluctantly, I went up with Him, and as we mounted the stairs the odor became stronger and stronger. He pointed to the door. I was angry. That's the only way I can put it. I had given Him access to the library, the dining room, the living room, the workroom, and now He was asking me about a little two-by-four closet. I had to give in. "I'll give you the key," I said sadly, but You will have to open the closet and clean it out. I haven't got the strength to do it."  "Just give me the key," He said. "Authorize me to take care of that closet and I will." With trembling fingers I passed the key to Him. He took it, walked over to the door, opened it, entered, took out all the putrefying stuff that was rotting in there, and threw it away. Then He cleaned the closet and painted it. It was all done in a moment's time. Oh, what victory and release to have that dead thing out of my life!

TRANSFERRING THE TITLE


A thought came to me. "Lord, is there any chance that You would take over the management of the whole house and operate it for me as You did that closet? Would You take the responsibility to keep my life what it ought to be?" His face lit up as He replied, "I'd love to! That is what I want to do. Let me do it through you and for you. That is the way. But, "He added slowly, "I am just a guest. I have no authority to proceed, since the property is not mine." Dropping to my knees, I said, "Lord, You have been a guest and I have been the host. From now on I am going to be the servant. You are going to be the owner and Master." Running as fast as I could to the strongbox, I took out the title deed to the house describing its assets and liabilities, location and situation. I eagerly signed the house over to Him alone for time and eternity. "Here," I said. "Here it is, all that I am and all that I have, forever. Now You run the house. I'll remain with You as a servant and friend."

Things are different since Jesus Christ has settled down and has made His home in my heart.


There it is.  I've read it a few times now, and it is something I could blog about till my fingers fall off, but I'm still learning and growing, and building upon my faith and understanding of Jesus, and what he wants from us.  I'm curious about what you all think about this story?  Has it effected you as it did me?  Did it make you think about your relationship, if you are a believer, with Christ?  If I'm going to ask for you thoughts, it's only fair I give mine.  So here goes:

The Study:  The first thing I think of when I reflect on that part, is the TV shows and movies that I watch.  I'm sure Jesus would be unhappy with some of the content.  And I'm ashamed to say that I don't see that area changing either, as I like my Grey's Anatomy, Chelsea Handler, Kill Bill, 300, recently Law Abiding Citizen.

The Dining Room:  the line: [  " If you want food that really satisfies you, do the will of the Father. Stop seeking you own pleasures, desires, and satisfaction. Seek to please Him. That food will satisfy you." ] says it all for me here.  When it comes to volunteering for my church and community, I fail miserably.  I tell myself that I don't have the time to do that stuff, but if I'm really being honest here, I could make the time. If I'm really being honest I would say something like, "I've got better things to do"  Ouch... that hurts to even type out!  I feel like if I stopped wasting some of my time with stuff that doesn't matter, doesn't help people, and doesn't make a real difference in the world - I would have time to do more volunteer work, and though I might miss some of the time-killers that I've grown acustomed to, I would be completely satisfied.

The Living Room:  This part speaks to me the most by far!  I welcomed Jesus into my heart YEARS ago, read my bible (occasionally), go to church (not often enough), absorb our Pastor's sermons, study my faith and grow in it, but when I really face the facts... I have neglected Christ.  There are certainly days where I don't pick up my bible (lots of days there), don't share God's word with my children, and completely forget to speak to my Lord.  I, like I said before, am so busy that I forget all about taking the time to pray.  Praying doesn't have to be a sit down - hands in your lap - head bowed - meditation, it can just be a 5 second, "Dear Lord, Thank you for my amazing family!  Please help me do your work today."  But in all the chaos of life, those 5 seconds can be forgotten about.   I am working on this section particularly!

The Work Room:  I fail here too.  I have tools that I could use to serve God, and to serve my community more, but I don't use them as much as I should.  I love children, and enjoy teaching them, and want to help lead little ones to Jesus, but I do not teach Sunday school at church.  I tell myself that when Connor is a little older and I can trust he'll go to the nursery and not cry the whole time, that I'll teach... we'll see next year if it happens.   I also love to sing, but do not sing in a church choir.  This makes me sad since I haven't sung in a choir since college, and I miss the rush of being a part of a performing choir.  Why I do not make the time to join one of the choral groups at my church I just do not know.

Overall:  I make plenty of excuses for myself, and I'm sick of it.  I've neglected my relationship with Jesus, and I want to make a commitment to Him to meet with him in the Living Room of my heart everyday, even if just for a few minutes.  I want to pray about and reflect on how I feel I can best put my skills and time to use... and follow through.  And I want to remember each time I have a problem I can't seem to handle on my own, to give it to Him and ask him help me solve it, to give me the clarity to tackle the hurdles in my life.  I also need to make a more consious effort to teach my daughters, and soon my son, the word of God and His will as I understand it to be. 

So, in the end, I am a sinner, and what a perfect time of year for me to remember that I am forgiven because I ask to be, because Jesus paid the ultimate sacrifice for the forgiveness of my sins, and that is so good.

My Heart: Christ's Home

One of the women at our church's women's retreat last weekend, read this to us.  It spoke to me, and I wanted to share this with you in case it speaks to your heart too.  It is really long, however, so I've decided to break it up into to posts.


My Heart: Christ's Home
by Robert B. Munger

One evening I invited Jesus Christ into my heart. What an entrance He made! It was not a spectacular, emotional thing, but very real. Something happened at the very center of my life. He came into the darkness of my heart and turned on the light. He built a fire on the hearth and banished the chill. He started music where there had been silence. He filled the emptiness with His own loving, wonderful fellowship. I have never regretted opening the door to Christ and I never will.  In the joy of this new relationship I said to Jesus Christ, "Lord, I want this heart of mine to be Yours. I want to have You settle down here and be perfectly at home. Everything that I have belongs to You.  Let me show you around."

THE STUDY
The first room was the study--the library. In my home this room of the mind is a very small room with very thick walls. But it is a very important room. In a sense it is the control room of the house. He entered with me and looked around at the books on the bookcase, the magazines upon the table, and the pictures on the walls. As I followed His gaze I became uncomfortable.  Strangely, I had not felt self-conscious about this before, but now that He was there looking at these things I was embarrassed. Some books were there that His eyes were too pure to behold. On the table were a few magazines that a Christian had no business reading. As for the pictures on the walls--the imaginations and thoughts of the mind--some of these were shameful.  Red-faced I turned to Him and said, "Master, I know that this room needs to be cleaned up and made over. Will You help me make it what it ought to be?" "Certainly!" He said. "I'm glad to help you. First of all, take all the things that you are reading and looking at which are not helpful, pure, good and true, and throw them out! Now put on the empty shelves the books of the Bible. Fill the library with Scripture and meditate on it day and night. As for the pictures on the walls, you will have difficulty controlling these images, but I have something that will help." He gave me a full-size portrait of Himself. "Hang this centrally," He said, "on the wall of the mind."

THE DINING ROOM


From the study we went into the dining room, the room of appetites and desires. I spent a lot of time and hard work here trying to satisfy my wants. I said to Him, "This is a favorite room. I am quite sure you will be pleased with what we serve."  He seated Himself at the table with me and asked, "What is on the menu for dinner?" "Well," I said, "my favorite dishes: money, academic degrees and stocks, with newspaper articles of fame and fortune as side dishes." These were the things I liked--secular fare. When the food was placed before Him, He said nothing, but I observed that He did not eat it. I said to Him, "Master, don't You care for this food? What is the trouble?"  He answered, “I have food to eat that you do not know of. If you want food that really satisfies you, do the will of the Father. Stop seeking you own pleasures, desires, and satisfaction. Seek to please Him.  That food will satisfy you."  There at the table He gave me a taste of the joy of doing God's will. What flavor! There is no food like it in the world. It alone satisfies.


THE LIVING ROOM

From the dinning room we walked into the living room. This room was intimate and comfortable. I liked it. It had a fireplace, overstuffed chairs, a sofa, and a quite atmosphere. He said, "This is indeed a delightful room. Let us come here often. It is secluded and quite, and we can fellowship together." Well, as a young Christian I was thrilled. I couldn't think of anything I would rather do than have a few minutes with Christ in close companionship. He promised, "I will be here early every morning. Meet Me here, and we will start the day together." So morning after morning, I would come downstairs to the living room. He would take a book of the Bible from the case. We would open it and read it together. He would unfold to me the wonder of God's saving truths. My heart sang as He shared the love and grace He had toward me. These were wonderful times. However, little by little, under the pressure of many responsibilities, this time began to be shortened. Why, I'm not sure. I thought I was too busy to spend regular time with Christ. This was not intentional, you understand. It just happened that way. Finally, not only was the time shortened, but I began to miss days now and then. Urgent matters would crowd out the quite times of conversation with Jesus. I remember one morning rushing downstairs, eager to be on my way. I passed the living room and noticed that the door was opened. Looking in, I saw a fire in the fireplace and Jesus was sitting there. Suddenly in dismay I thought to myself, "He is my guest. I invited Him into my heart! He has come as my Savior and Friend, and yet I am neglecting Him." I stopped, turned and hesitantly went in. With downcast glance, I said, "Master, forgive me. Have You been here all these mornings?" "Yes," He said, "I told you I would be here every morning to meet with you. Remember, I love you. I have redeemed you at great cost. I value your friendship. Even if you cannot keep the quite time for your own sake, do it for mine." The truth that Christ desires my companionship, that He wants me to be with Him and waits for me, has done more to transform my quiet time with God than any other single fact. Don't let Christ wait alone in the living room of your heart, but every day find time when, with your Bible and in prayer, you may be together with Him.

 

I'll share more of this either tomorrow, along with Wishful Wednesday, or thursday morning.  The rooms of the heart coming up are: The work room, the rec room, the hall closet, and tranferring the title.

Let me know what your thoughts are so far, I'll share mine after the entire story is posted.

To jump to PART 2 click here

My Friday Night

I mentioned last Friday that I was going to a retreat at our church.  I am currently writing this post Friday night, shortly after the first night of the retreat. 

The first night was more of an ice-breaker, get to know eachother a little better, relax, play, eat, sing, and of course pray.  The night started with a prayer, a song, and a table full, and I mean FULL, of food.  There were sloppy joes, veggie pizzas, crackers with dip, fruit (including chocolate covered strawberries) and a large variety of goodies... can we all say AMEN! 

After loading my plate full of a little of almost everything, I sat back down with a table full of really fun ladies.  We all chatted, made new friends, and had a relaxing dinner!  We ate until we were stuffed and the first game started.  We played "Would You Rather", which took a long time considering there were about 50-60 women there tonight.  "Would You Rather" is a game which you have to answer completely impossible questions, like, "would you rather be in a room with 100 wasps for 1 hour, or sleep in a room with 2 rats for 1 week?"  "Would you rather go through life leaving a constant trail of slime, or constant exhast emissions?"  "Would you rather spend the day with molasses in your underwear, or gravel in your underwear?"  Some questions were funny, some were gross, and some were just plain horrifying!

After the game and a break, it was time for the White Elephant Gift game.  We chose a wrapped gift from the table, opened, and passed around them in a circle - listening to all the "left"s and "right"s in the story that was being told - and ended up with what we ended up with.... I ended up with this..

He's my new little friend, he's made out of coconuts, and he gives me splinters everytime I touch him... I may have to rethink this relationship.

Toward the end of the night, and between songs led by our wonderful worship group, one of the women (I'm so sorry, I forgot her name!!) read a devotion that really spoke to me. One of the women said she'd email it to me, as it didn't print out on their printer.  As soon as I get it I will share it with you here.  Also coming up, hopefully tomorrow, if I can put Twilight down long enough to form a coherent post, I will write about Saturday's events.

Have a great Monday!