October 1, 2009
Are You Transparent?
I want to share this with you because this was when God called me out. Literally. He basically stripped me of the image I had been portraying and said,
"Get honest. Stop acting like you have it together when you don't."
Neither does anyone else. Not one person. Oh, but God has it all together. And I quickly realized that being transparent completely sets you free. Raw honesty is refreshing in a day and age where the church puts on a happy face rather then tearing their clothes in grief, donning sack cloth and praying with complete surrender. We hear, "How are you?" and respond with "So blessed!" What is not being said..."I am doing the polite, nicey thing asking how you are but I really don't care to know" and the response withheld is "I am dying inside and I am petrified that anyone should find out."
So now I try to be honest. Even when it's hard. I find out from others that I often say what others are afraid to say. Well, good. Because even in my honesty, I blow a huge sigh f relief knowing others fall way short of the mark right along with me.
So here is the devotional I wrote and shared in front of a large women's bible study about 5 years ago. This literally was penned from the most High God because I was told me later many came away blessed. As was I...
The devotional starts out with a question...
Do you want to be a window or do you want to be stained glass?
A window can be viewed through on both sides. You can see in and you can see out. When it is cleaned, it sparkles. It opens us up instead of closing us in and it is revealing and transparent.
Stained glass is beautiful and intricate. It is full of color and often will tell a story. It is sometimes whimsical, sometimes reverent, often delicate and easy to shatter. But you can’t see through it. You can only look at it. There is an image on either side but it’s not transparent.
For a long time, I have been a stained glass window. I have wanted people to see my life for what I want it to be and not what it is. I have an amazing husband and family. Fantastic friends. My home is cozy and spacious. My church has so many people who love Jesus Christ and want to wholeheartedly serve Him. My life looks great. It is great. I should be content. But what do I live for? Where does the joy in my life really come from? I often wonder..
Can I get it through decorating my house?
Maybe cooking and slaving over an extravagant meal.
I know! I‘ll throw a dinner party that no one can compete with.
Maybe I'll buy that designer bag with the name brand all blinged and big so people will know my pricey purchase.
Maybe I could even get involved with 1 or 2…no…3 or 4 ministries at church and show people how spiritual and holy I am.
God, that’s what you want. I know it is. That’s what I will do. And for a while, it worked. And although those things are not inherently wrong, my heart attitude was. I even thought I could convince God.
The bible says if you humble yourselves before the Lord, He will lift you up. It always amazes me how humility draws us closer to God. It amplifies our inadequacies and deficient righteousness. It reveals our need for God instead of a habitual attendance to Him. Oh, how I need God.
Here is a most recent story that has shattered my stained glass window...
This story is about my husband and he has given me permission to relay this to all of you in hopes that you may be blessed and so that we can show our absolute NEED to be real before the Lord.
Last week, my husband came home to confess to me that he had put us into 11,000 of debt.
Now, that may not be a lot to some but we are both young and that is everything we had. He used up our savings without my knowledge trying to cover up our debt. His job was not allowing ends to meet which was also why he used up our savings. He was ashamed but full of pride because he never told me, asked for help, or most importantly sought God for answers & direction. When he came home to tell me, I was hurt and felt betrayed. My mind was screaming and I wanted to tell him what I really thought about him. But I kept praying this prayer...
"God, be my words, be my words."
Finally He gave me words to say but my next prayer was...
"Get the words off my tongue."
When I finally felt I could say it, I told him,
"I love you and I am with you every step of the way."
He broke down and cried like I have never seen anyone before. He seemed so shocked by that kind of grace and quite frankly, so was I.
God, was that me?
NO, BELOVED. IT WAS ME.
As the week went on, I kept discovering different areas of our finances that had been depleted. It was devastating. All the money given to us for our wedding. Savings we have had since we have been married. Gone. One day, I found myself in the shower crying out to God
“70 x 7! 70 x 7! You require me to forgive 70 x 7! HELP ME!!!!!”
Oh, the pain. At one point I cried out to God over and over,
"I did not do anything wrong. I did not do anything wrong. Why did this happen? Why am I suffering? I DID NOT DO ANYTHING WRONG!"
God’s reply to me?
"Neither did your SAVIOR. Yet He covered your sins and sacrificed for you."
God was teaching me sacrifice and humility. My image was shattered. My perfect persona marred. I was left with the reality that God calls me to a higher purpose then my own. I was to stand the gap for my husband and let him know that he was not alone. That WE are not alone. God was and is refining us to produce that harvest of righteousness. He was simultaneously working on us both for entirely 2 different reasons but for one purpose.
His Glory. Hallelujah.
My Lord and King was not only shattering my stained glass but he was replacing it with double paned, storm windows. He wants me to be transparent. He wants me to be strong. That is why I am standing before you today. To be transparent and show you the person that God wants you to see. Who I want you to see. Because I do not want to please men. I want to please God.
It is a journey to be real and transparent. I looked up the word in the dictionary and I was amazed by what I read...
The definition states: Having the property of transmitting rays of light through its substance so that bodies situated beyond or behind can be distinctly seen, so sheer as to permit light to pass through; open, frank, candid.
In 2 Corinthians 4:6, it says, “Let light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.” So beautiful.
1 John 1:5-7 says: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. If we claim to have fellowship with him yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live by the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.
He wants us to shed our own manufactured image and reveal the reality of who we are in Christ Jesus. Sometimes we are harder on ourselves than anyone else. But God forgives. Everything. He uses our blunders and mistakes to heal us up, lift us up, lift others up, and give up to Him the Glory He deserves.
What do we fear? Opinions of others? Gossip? Judgment? Being less than perfect? Are we full of pride? Insecurities? Bitterness? What are our hang ups?
And this is what I have realized...when I get right down to it...who flippin' cares? I have learned to just be who I am, a sinner who claims the blood of Christ, because by his wounds I have been healed. My life is a journey and not one where I will reach perfection. Just one where I will come face to face with my Savior.
When we come to God, it is a courageous surrender. We can do all things through Christ who strengthen us. We say, WE NEED YOU, LORD. He says. COME JUST AS YOU ARE.
So I will end with the same question.
Do you want to be a transparent window or just beautiful stained glass?
This was a journey that blessed my husband and I immensely! It was not without some major bumps and it took us a good year to have our marriage be on sure ground again. And don't get me wrong. To this day we still suffer the consequences. We don't own a house. We purchase used cars. No cell phone. No cable. No pedicures. No designer bags. No top of the line, up to the minute of ANYTHING. Although I am coveting an iphone. That little gadget would come in handy in a waiting room. But our marriage is stronger than ever. And we focus on what matters. Not our wants.
Hopefully, you have a better understanding of why I write at my own expense. Obviously, life is extraordinarily funny. But I also think we edify the lives of others when we just stop all the drama and begin getting down to the honest truth of who we are.
Incidentally, I asked my husband for permission to publish this post and then we both burst out laughing at the irony of me withholding this information on a post about being transparent. See? I so need to keep it raw and real.
September 30, 2009
Fat Girl Confessions
OK. Let's trrryyy...
Big girl.
Husky.
Girl with well endowed trunk area.
Thee who hath no little middle.
That's me. Most of my life actually. Which makes we laugh that on facebook, on this blog or anywhere else where I have risked my well protected vanity, I have only posted pictures where...
a. I am thin
b. I look thin
c. I have a human shield blocking any fleshy part that can be construed as "flabby."
Oh why, oh why, do I bow down to an idol of vanity? I know I do it, I am aware when I am doing but I continue to do it. It matters way too much. But I think I know the answer just like you do...
It matters because I think it matters to everyone else too.
Oh we saaaaaay weight does not matter. But I would venture to say that people are all somewhat obsessed with any area that is more fleshy then we would like. I have heard people complain of fat ankles. Or a double chin. Or chubby knees. But I so wish it was not something I thought about as often as I do. I am 20 pounds heavier than I was when I got pregnant so that makes me constantly aware. I put a box of pre-pregnancy clothes in my bedroom thinking this would motivate me. What it motivates me to do is throw my 2 to 3 sizes larger clothes on top of the box.
So I decided to do some more confessin.' Keepin' it real. Giving you the scoop on what I think and what I do as I endeavor to be victorious in the battle of the bulge. Maybe not victorious. No, I think I am just admitting to you some unhealthy thinking and actions.
1. I have wished, prayed, and wanted to make "Mom Jeans" cool so I could just stuff my stomach in them and be done with it.
2. I sewed an extra button on a pair of pants the other day to make them bigger and more comfy. I think they are a size 10 when I probably need a size 12 with 25% spandex.
3. When I have been watching what I eat, journaling my meals and starving to death, I have grabbed things from the fridge and eaten them standing there with my big bum holding the door open. Then, I conveniently forget to write this little snack down and not counted them it in my daily calorie intake. And I seriously believe my own omission.
4. When friends lose weight and look fantastic, I become concerned for their sudden and very possible eating disorder affliction and pray they don't have a problem. I also make them lots of baked goods.
5. I have mastered the art of standing next to people in photos. Always someone on either side of me. If this is not possible, I make sure half of me is covered up. I make sure my arms are hidden behind other shoulders. And chin up. I will try to hold a child if at all possible.
6. I love having justifiable excuses in saying I have struggled with weight my whole life, that PCOS makes it hard to lose weight or maintain and ideal weight. What I don't love to tell people is that I can eat an entire carton of ice cream and not feel ill. I feel incomplete when I have to close the bag of chips or when the plate is empty of pie. And I obviously have no wise discernment between making the decision to consume the above mentioned food or a nice apple.
7. I actually run 3 miles a day. But that actually means I run 3 miles on the particular day I actually get my lazy bum on the treadmill or outside to do it.
8. I have weighed myself and attempted to alter the pounds by standing on one foot, having my feet hang halfway off the scale, jogged really fast in place before getting on, and last but not least...go to the bathroom and go back and weigh myself to see if I lost a few ounces. Pathetic.
9. I have chosen tops a size too small, examined its stitching to see how well made it is and then stretched it until it fit. It alllllways maintains its shape and looks exactly the way the designer intended. Seriously, all I care about is that I am wearing a medium instead of a large.
10. This is so sad. When Cati walks away from a snack or her plate she will turn around, point her finger at me and say, "Don't eat it. I 'm not done." I should really feel shame that I eat her food when she walks away from it. I really should. Especially since when I do it I tell myself that we are poor and I should not let it go to waste. Or that I am saving her from perishable food that has been sitting out for awhile...like 15 minutes. The poor girl will search the whole house for the last bite of a granola bar. And I actually get up and help her try to find it. Are any of you seriously questioning my eternal security right now?
Well there you have it. I needed to confess my fat girl dirty laundry.
Now are any of you willing to join me in this vanity obsession confession time? Please tell me I am not the only one.
September 29, 2009
Two Tips Tuesday
Trapp Private Candles
Smilebox
Grab some address, shipping and return address labels. Use colored pencils or crayons (since they are light) and have them go to town scribbling, drawing, or even going for a themed look for older kids. Drawing houses, holiday or seasonal drawings, favorite things...whatever. When they are done, you just print them out on your computer. All your Christmas addresses, birthday party invitations, or just return addresses from you or just your children.
Other ideas...
- The labels can become homemade stickers
- They can be names to put on tags for gifts
- Labeling cups and belongings at school or church
- Labels for organizational purposes in bedrooms or playrooms
- Teaching about mail and giving them some fun sending letters
BONUS TIP!!! (I owe you from last week): Handy Trash Bags
I think having children can either make you less or more organized. Depends upon the circumstances or situation. I think I have improved in some areas but fall way short of the mark in others. But I have mastered a new kind of art...being more organized in anticipation of being un-organized. For example...as I have mentioned before, timeliness is not high on my list of organizational togetherness. So sometimes I am organized enough to have food already thrown together in a bag for inevitable tardiness. So the girls can have lunch in the car on the way to swim lessons, church, AWANA cubbies or whatever we are doing. While being late.
But every single time I don't have a trash bag. Makes me crazy. And I don't want to have bags everywhere in the car. So my idea for this is to find a nifty, zip closure bag to stuff a bunch of grocery or trash bags in and leave it in your car door or glove compartment. That way, you won't be without one. Now I just have to be organized enough to remember to refill it.
I fit 8 trash bags in this 5 x 8 inch bag. Love, love simple conveniences.
Have a fabulous Tuesday friends!
September 24, 2009
2 Shades of Pink Story: The Conclusion
Well, I can tell you I went through quite the 9 month bloom as I fondly call it. I got BIG! Gained 55 pounds in fact. I justify this ridiculous venture to a 5 year culmination of the intense desire to be pregnant and my chronic cravings for sandwiches. Which I satisfied each day with a grand finale of 2 nightly ice cream sandwiches...because they were sandwiches. So watch that belly grow...
What am I seeing here? I mean, there is a little hump sticking out but come on!!!!
Wow. This camera is awful! I need suggestions on a good camera! Belly is definitely making appearances.
Awwwww. Was so depressed I bought my first SIZE LARGE maternity shirt. I seriously think I would not fit in it now.
Hello BULLET BELLY! It literally came to point. Yikes. And I had bigger worries than my first large shirt. Sheesh...knock off the ice cream sandwiches girl and eat some sugar free jello.
OK, how was I still standing? I think this is 39 weeks. How funny is Cati cracking herself up holding her back and imitating me?
So that was my bloom. I would show you the ultrasound pics but we have all seen them and know what they look like. The 6 week one I cried because I had so many ultrasounds with no black oval with something in it. Seeing that little baby with the bigger than life heartbeat took my breath away and I cried and cried and cried. When I saw her at 12 weeks I was just so happy seeing her do a karate kid impression to the side of my uterus. I was pregnant. So happy.
September 22, 2009
Two Tips Tuesday
Shark Sweeper Vac: Not sure if that is the official name of it but I use this at least 3 times of day to pick up all of Ella's food off the floor, crumbs and whatever else the girls have put on the floor. It is fast, has about 30 minutes worth of juice before you need to recharge and light as a feather. It comes with a short handle to use it on furniture too. You just empty out the little slide-in reservoir there on the side and that's it. Completely helps me out in between vacuuming with the big vacuum.
Tip #2: Don't Start Your Weekly Blog Post the Night Before
Sorry Folks. My computer has been hit with some nasty little bug which is why I have not posted much for the last week. Still trying to figure all this out. This post has taken me one hour to write because it keeps freezing up on me. And sadly, I never scheduled this post last week due to my crazy life and now a sick child. So I owe you for next week. Until then, pray this computer and I make up and become friends again.
Happy Tuesday!
September 20, 2009
2 Shades of Pink Story: Part 7
I hear my tired BFF (who had fallen asleep on the couch) answer the phone with a sweet "Welcome Home!"
And of course, I purchased the creme of the crop, the candid, tell-it-like-it-is test that you only buy if you are darn tootin' sure it will say...pregnant. Oh, glory. Bummer that the word eventually disappears, though.
So let's pause to recap the miracle of all of this by seeing God's hand upon every intimate detail. Because of course, this is when any uphill journey makes sense. This will be fun...
- God spoke to my heart that I would conceive naturally...and I did.
- The call for the IVF study came on October 24th. After figuring out the dates, we conceived Ella 1 week later following us turning this incredible opportunity down.
- The prayer card we filled out at the church on Christmas Eve, 2006 was to see three things happen within one year's time... to have radical faith (like turning down IVF and believing God through a hopeless time), to overcome infertility, to adopt Cati). These 3 prayer requests culminated within a two week period. 1. Oct 24, 2007 we got the call, prayed, and turned IVF down the next day believing God for natural conception. 2. November 9, 2007 the adoption process begins. 3. November 12, 2007 we have a positive pregnancy test. All occurring less than 1 year later.
I so have goosebumps even though it happened to me. How can we not give glory to such an amazing, merciful, grace abounding, infinitely wise God? I so can.
Another thing that became incredibly obvious to me. As someone with PCOS, you are pretty much subfertile rather than infertile. More specifically, it is difficult to become pregnant but not impossible. And statistics become such a discouragement. It is lovely to hear how someone with normal cycles or typical fertility odds have only a mere 25% chance at becoming pregnant due to all that is involved in the process of making a baby. And yours is less. Well, yippee for me. Always makes you look at the glass half full side of things, right? Especially since we got like 6 billion people roaming the earth. Clearly procreating is not this rare endeavor as stats like to make it out to be. Considering all the intricacies with timing and one sperm and one egg...I am sure you do not need this lesson. But. How can we get wrapped up in stats with the kind of God we serve? Because this is what I have concluded. With God, I have a 100% chance of getting pregnant. Not 25%. Not 73%.
100%.
Because it is God who gives and takes away. It is our glorious, mighty King who stitches a baby together. He still could have given us a pregnancy that may not have gone to term. But He deserves my praise and complete submission regardless if the outcome is not parallel to my heart's desire. So I had to realize it was He who decided to bless us with Ella. Only He. Not stats. Not my weight loss. Not throwing your legs up in the air like my grandmother told me to do. (I did do that but whatever). Only God.
And I praise His holy name. He made me a mother...again. He rewarded our faith. He heard the cry of a mother who wanted to carry a child within her. And He not only gave us one...He gave us two...
September 16, 2009
2 Shades of Pink Story: Part 6

Yet. I had no peace. Strange that everything seemed handed to us on a silver platter. But no, no, no peace. I thought I was nervous. Or too excited. But hubby and I talked a little that night when he came home but we prayed. We literally got on our faces before the Lord believing that within the short window of time he would reveal what we should do. As we prayed I deeply sensed God's answer and kept questioning. The answer came loud in the midst of my 87th repetition of "God is that your will?"
We raise our heads from prayer and I look at hubby. So what is our answer?
He looks almost sad as he says.."It's no." That was the answer I got too.
A week later a termination hearing was scheduled for the birth parents. The birth mother would have an opportunity to surrender her rights if she showed up and if they were no shows their parental rights would automatically be terminated. Long story short, she was not surrendering (though she showed up) and the lawyer was trying to drag it out. A few days later, she tells her lawyer she is ready to surrender and sign the papers privately.
Now understand that for the woman obsessed with conceiving, the driving force is the hope of this moment in the loo. Everything is about the moment. Last month was negative so you spend a week depressed, and then the next week you get your period, the hope begins to spark to a flame, and then...you are in the bathroom again peeing on a stick like a kid waiting for the biggest ice cream cone ever. It becomes ritual.
And you have pregnancy test taker types. Some stare at the stick the entire 3 minutes...waiting and watching. Others can just leave the bathroom and forget about it. I am the sneaky checker. I would glance over at it hoping it would not catch me do it. I would leave the bathroom only to come back to re-flush and take another sneak peek. And if you were obsessed like me, you knew all the scoop on all the tests. I knew which were the stronger ones that could detect hcg (pregnancy hormone) levels the earliest. I knew which ones had frequent false results. I was the pee stick wizard. I also confess to taking a test to a lamp to see a possible faint line. Taking it outside in the sun. And taking it apart to identify the faulty manufacturing of it since it was not revealing the positive I wanted. Or so I could better see the faintest line that my eyes would create in desperation.
So testing just became this monthly thing. So the Monday I flew home I knew I had one of those Internet cheapy tests in the bathroom. The really, skinny, papery ones. But those suckers detect early! And if there was a test in the house I was going to use it. And it was the last one. So I thought about it the whole plane ride home. And before bed, I asked the husbter if I should test. He said wait until morning since the first pee after you wake up is the one with highest levels of hcg. See, you train hubby to know their stuff too so they hold you accountable within your obsession. I said, "You're so right. That is what I will do." Then I go in the bathroom and pee on the stick. Did I mention I was obsessed?
But I forgot to sneak up on it. I just plain forgot. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and put on my pajamas. Oh, the test! It had been about 5 minutes...
There were two lines...