I came home yesterday to find this little bag sitting on our front porch:

My first thought was:  “Who is Melba McFadden??”  And why is the gift only for Russell and not me?!

So, then I opened the card (Russell didn’t mind) and this is what I read:

Hi there,
Just a small token to say “thank you” for helping me put my leaf bags on the curb.  I really did appreciate your help.  I hope you have a blessed holiday season.
Sincerely yours, Melba V. McFadden

And then I opened the bag to see this:

Melba McFadden gave Russell a scarf!!!  Just to say thanks for helping her move her leaf bags to the curb.  Is that not the sweetest thing ever? 

Someone wise encouraged me the other day that instead of continuing to ask, “Why, Lord?”, I should begin to ask, “What do you want my response to be?”. 

It sounded easy enough but in actuality was far more difficult than I first anticipated.  To cease to ask why felt like giving up without a fair fight.  Don’t get me wrong- it’s not as though I will never ask that question again.  There is undoubtedly a time for that.  A time to wrestle like Jacob did.  In fact, I wrestle all of the time with the Lord- but it only gets me so far.  There also must be a time to surrender your own understanding, to accept His plan, and to respond.

As I was sitting in the Prayer Room this morning, I finally came to that place where I laid down my lack of understanding and just spit it out, “Well, what do you want my response to be then, God?”  It only took a few seconds before I knew.  The answer was in the same verse God had given me last week.  That was what He wanted my response to be.  He gave it to me ahead of time so that I could start to pray that way.     

“I will put my trust in You.  Here am I and the children whom You have given me.”  -hebrews 2:13

Without thinking twice, I started to edit the verse in order to apply it to my own situation.  “Here am I and the children whom You have not yet given me.”  But before I finished my sentence, I suddenly realized how mistaken I was. 

I started to feel that ache again… and I remembered, we have been given a child.  I saw him on that ultrasound screen.  He was real.  As real as ever.  And that image will be forever engraved in my mind.  For that was the only glimpse I will have this side of Heaven.

So I started again, “Here am I and the children whom You have given… and taken away… for now.  For he was never ours in the first place.  He was a gift.  A blessing… that we were chosen to conceive and then love for as long as You planned.  And if You chose only a few months… then….. thank you.”  There, I had said it. 

And before I knew it, my posture went from sitting back, arms crossed, eyes on my navel…. to such peace as I whispered again, “Thank you, Jesus.”  And just like that, I went from the teenager who assumes their parents are out to make their life worse to the little girl running into the lap of her Father, burying her head into His chest, needing Him to comfort her.  And then I sensed His whisper back to me, “I’ve been here all along… just waiting for you.”

Here’s the ever-processing, always analyzing side of me at its best…

The reality of miscarriage is that it just plain sucks.  I didn’t realize this as it happened to those around me, even ones very close to me.  I didn’t understand their sadness and why it seemed to linger so long. 

But now, I do.  This sadness, though at times it feels sharp enough to take away my breath, mostly surfaces as a fog.  It feels a bit like a cloud that is just always there, no matter which way I look.  To be perfectly honest (even at the risk of revealing how spiritually weak I really am), I feel stuck.  I feel like I was blindsided.  I feel like “it’s just not fair”.  And most of all, I feel like I just don’t trust the Lord as much as I used to.  This subtle distrust has disguised itself like a poison and I don’t realize the profound effects until I’m in a situation where I find myself having the choice to trust again. 

Oh, how I wish I could just ‘get over it’.  Move on.  Be grateful for what I’ve been given.  But then I wake up and remember that I used to be pregnant.  I walk through my day and interact with pregnant women, pregnant friends, and then all of the emotions come flooding back.  Why, Lord?  Why didn’t you step in?  Why didn’t you heal?  And the most haunting of them all- “Why did you give us this baby in the first place… only to take him away?” 

About a week ago, I woke up from a dream and the verse Hebrews 2:13 was running through my mind.  I couldn’t recall what the verse was and soon forgot about it.  Later that night, however, I remembered and instantly reached for my Bible to find the verse.  Instantly, as I read the words, I crumbled.  I don’t remember ever reading the verse before that night.  I didn’t even fully understand the context- but the words- they were like arrows from Heaven and they pierced my heart:

Hebrews 2:13-  “I will put my trust in Him.”  And again, “Here am I and the children God has given me.”

It’s quite an obscure verse- certainly not the one that comes on the Hallmark cards specially made for women who have had miscarriages.  But it was just what the Lord was saying to me. 

I will learn to trust again… not because I can muster it up on my own- but because God is trustworthy.  I will learn to trust Him with the children He gives or withholds.  I will wait on and contend for the promises that He has spoken over my life.  As I was praying the other day, I sensed Him saying, “I will prove it to you again and again and again that you can trust me.”  Waking up from the dream with this verse heavy on my heart was evidence that He really is a relentless God. 

 

This time last year, I was meeting my little nephew for the first time:

And look at him now (with his sweet dad)…  just one year later:

photo courtesy of jess lucia

This picture proves that not only do I have the cutest nephew in the world… but one year can fly by so fast.  With tomorrow being the wonderful holiday of Thanksgiving, it forces me to think about all that I am truly thankful for.  It forces me to live with a grateful spirit- even if just for a day.  Oh, how I wish I lived that way every day.  I wish I viewed everything given to me as a blessing.  I wish I focused on all that I have instead of all that I don’t have.  I wish I could replace my selfishness with thankfulness. 

So, here are a couple of things I am so thankful for… in no particular order:

 

my best friend who lovingly puts up with me

pumpkin spice lattes

an incredibly thoughtful and fun-loving family

a plethora of new skills due to renovating a house

the opportunity to travel to beautiful places

this spiritual greenhouse that happens to be in kc

enough said

 

the best friends a girl could ask for

Russell and I have this ongoing argument discussion about the definition and usage of the word, “couple”.  He adheres strictly to the belief that ‘couple’ means two and only two under all circumstances.  I, however, use it more loosely.  For example, I wanted to title this post, “just a couple of thoughts”.. thinking that ‘a couple’ would grant me atleast 3 or 4.  After all, I don’t think that I’ve ever only had 2 thoughts.  I’m a woman…. and an ENFP.  Only having two thoughts is basically illegal.  Nevertheless, here’s a couple more than a couple…

1.  Something a bit crazy and a bit exciting is going on around these parts.  Though God’s presence is always with us, it seems to be a bit thicker recently when we’ve been gathering together.  Though He always loves to heal, we’re seeing an increase in the number of people being healed.  Though He always cares about our hearts, we’re seeing hundreds upon hundreds night after night that are being set free from addictions, oppression, lies, etc.  I don’t have much of a grid for what is happening but even the analytical and skeptical side of me knows without a doubt that something bigger is happening… something beyond us.  IHOP has shut everything down during the evenings and has been holding nightly services from 6pm-midnight for the last 2 weeks.  You can watch it online at www.ihop.org.  However, this is my disclaimer.  Watch it with an open heart and open mind.  I have to tell myself this every night.  God cannot be contained and we cannot reduce His ways to evangelical, Western Christianity ways.  He is GOD…. and sometimes, He chooses to offend our minds in order to truly reveal what’s in our hearts. 

2.  If you want to watch a quick testimony from one night last week, click here to hear Brent’s testimony!

3.  Two weekends ago, I stood beside one of my best friends as she pledged her vows to her soon-to-be husband.  I LOVE WEDDINGS!!!!  I love watching the groom as he watches the bride walking down the aisle.  I love watching the bridesmaids trying to hold it together.  I love the vows.  I love the hymns.  I love when they are pronounced man and wife and everybody cheers!  I just love it.  I loved watching Martha be completely in her element and I loved seeing the way that Ron looked at his bride- with such adoration and delight.  Another highlight of the weekend was getting to spend time with the new Hagerty’s kiddos!!  I have never seen kids so full of joy… or so well-behaved AND hilarious!  I laughed and laughed and laughed… and then cried some when I thought about the love of God as He rescued them and placed them into the Hagerty home.  Take a look at their cuteness:

Don’t let them fool you… they aren’t camera shy in the least!

Eden Meskerem:  4 years old and such a ham (takes after her momma)

Caleb Asnaka:  2 years old and as sweet as can be

4.  This is two months overdue… but is too sweet to not comment on.  So, I turned 25 a “couple” of months back and because Russell was scheduled to work that night, two of my girl friends, Krista and Katie, were going to take me out for my birthday!  They showed up around dinner time, blindfolded me, and drove me downtown.  After parking, we walked for what seemed like forever until we arrived at our destination and they took off my blindfold only to find Russell and the most romantic candlelit dinner table…. in my FAVORITE park!  It’s the one that reminds me of Charlottesville (the only place in KC, mind you, that reminds me of Charlottesville).  Loose Park is very sizable and so he found the perfect spot… and then carried everything down from his car (including the table on his back).  What a man!  Isn’t he the best?!

Grief is such a strange process.  It encompasses a little bit of every emotion, it seems.  The past few weeks have been full of confusion, deep sadness, anger, hope, disappointment, and more sadness.  Some days, to be honest, I didn’t really want to get out of bed and face a world that kept on moving while everything in me wanted to turn the clocks back and do it again, do it differently.  Other days, it was almost as if I had forgotten what had happened. 

Still some days, I am overwhelmed with knowing the goodness of God.  I have long reduced the purpose of suffering to an opportunity to impact others or even to the opportunity to grow in character.  Though the Bible validates each of these purposes, I am beginning to believe that there is something more profound about suffering.  I see it like an escort taking my hand and walking me (though at times it feels more like a dragging of sorts) into the very presence of God, right in front of Him, unable to look any other place than deep into His eyes. 

And there I find myself in the most vulnerable place I have ever been.  I have long wondered about the expression of God in the face of suffering.  What does He think?  What is He doing?  What is He saying?  How can He just “sit there”?  Is He crying with me or is He apathetic to my aching?  The answer changes everything. 

Jesus said that those who mourn are considered blessed, for they shall be comforted.  I have always wrestled with how to view suffering as a means to blessing.  I can’t say that I would ever choose it for myself or for another.  But, I am learning to embrace it when it comes… and in the embrace, I have actually started to feel a little bit of that blessing that Jesus promised.  It’s mysterious.  It’s hard to articulate.  It seems too good to be true at times, but it’s real.  I know it for a fact.

Russell gently continues to point out that it has been over a month since I last posted.  I have wanted to sit down and write many times… but was patiently waiting until September 21st to share the good news. 

Last Monday, Russell and I went into the DR’s office for our first ultrasound.  That’s right, we discovered in the beginning of August that we were pregnant.  We were going to finally be told a more definitive due date based on the ultrasound and then we were going to shout the news from the rooftop.  As we sat in the office, the technician began to explain what we were seeing on the screen.  “This is the sac,” she started.  “And that, there is your baby.  But, I’m so sorry to tell you that there is no heartbeat”. 

The next hour was a whirlwind and I don’t remember much of it besides trying to hold it together.  But as soon as we stepped out of the office, into the pouring rain, we both lost it.  There are no words to describe the pain we are feeling…. the aching…   It feels like something was just stolen out of our arms and we are powerless to do anything about it. 

For the short 5 weeks that we knew that we were pregnant, I felt more of the favor and blessing of God than I have ever felt in my life.  I felt like I had just been given the best gift in the world.  And just like that, the tides turned, and now it all feels like a bad dream. 

“But the good news is that you were able to conceive!  There will be more!” some people say, with the best intentions.  But, this one…  This one was the one that I wanted.  This one was the one that I fell in love with.  This was my firstborn.  This was the one I would talk to when I would wake up in the middle of the night and when I couldn’t fall back asleep.  This was the one that I would think about all day long.  This one cannot be replaced. 

This one was real.  I know because of the process of miscarriage that my body is now going through.  I know because of the contractions, because of the pain, because of the blood.  There is nothing pretty about death.  It’s not what we were created for. 

I’d like to tell you all about the wonderful things that the Lord is doing in the midst of this trial.  But, to be honest, I’m just struggling to keep my head above water right now.  There will be stories to tell.  There always are.  There will be a testimony that will come from my own lips.  But right now, there’s just a lot of pain and confusion and wrestling.  And I feel OK about that. 

Hope deferred makes the heart sick… and my heart feels sick right now.  The good news is that there’s a second half to that verse.  I can’t testify to it yet… but it’s there… and it’s true.  And one day soon, I will write a post all about it.  I will promise you that.

Contentment. 

This simple little word has been my challenge for the past several months.  I almost feel as if the Lord keeps whispering to me, “Will you choose to be content?  Am I enough for you?”

A quick trip to dictionary.com defines contentment in the Bible as: 

-a state of mind in which one’s desires are confined to his lot whatever it may be

But what if this “lot” isn’t what I thought it would be?  What if it isn’t what I thought I was signing up for?  What if it’s really stinking hard sometimes?  What if it’s lonely?  What if it’s frustrating and confusing? 

And what if this lot is exactly what the Lord has sovereignly whipped up and placed in my lap just to teach me the all-important lesson of how to be content in all circumstances.  Would that make it worth it?  Would it be worth it to learn contentment now when (let’s be honest) life is relatively easy in this part of the Western Hemisphere?  Would it be worth it to learn it now instead of later?  I have a sneaky suspicion that life as we know it is going to get a bit more rocky.  Scripture calls it “shaking everything that can be shaken”.  If that’s the case, a tiny part of me is screaming, “Shake me now, Lord!” so that I will be prepared for the shaking later. 

Contentment isn’t easy.  But, it’s a choice.  It’s not as simple as looking at the glass and calling it half-full.  It’s deeper than that.  It’s rooted in knowing what we deserve and yet rejoicing in what we have been given.  It requires the belief that this world and therefore this life is not all that there is.  It’s a challenge… and I’m determined (though albeit with hesitation) to learn the secret that Paul proclaims to have learned. 

“I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty.  I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.”  -philippians 4:11-12

It took almost three weeks of being away for me to realize something crucial.  Get ready.  This is profound.

It is better to be in the will of God… 

Better than what, you may be wondering.  Better than anywhere.  Better than with anyone.  Better than any place.  Better than anything.  Better than everything. 

It may not be easy.  It may not be comfortable.  It may not be what you anticipated or even desired.  But it is better. 

It requires submission.  It requires blind trust.  It requires sacrifice.  It requires surrender.  But it is better.

And if you choose to disobey… you may just get swallowed by a whale.

 

Here’s what I have been pondering lately:

1.  Paul says that we ought to be content in all circumstances.  He commanded us to rejoice always.  I’m not very good at this. When things are hard in my life, I tend clam up, cry a little, and wallow a lot.  At the root of it all, I see myself trying to hang onto the expecations that I have for my life.  I cling to what I think my life should be like.  Even in my moments of surrender, rarely do I feel content.  Rarely do I rejoice.  I consent, but I do not rejoice.  So, what does it look like to rejoice, even in pain?  Was Jesus rejoicing on the cross? Was He content in Gethsemane?  He wasn’t putting on a facade of Christian “happiness”, that’s for sure.  He was deeply yielded and submitted to the will of His Father… but content?  Rejoicing?  I need to keep searching this out.

2.  My Small Group leader challenged me the other day to not let Charlottesville become my ‘Egypt’.  Ouch.  I felt a wave of conviction shoot through my body.  Listen to Isaiah 31:1- ”Woe to those who go down to Egypt for help, and rely on horses, who trust in chariots because they are many, and in horsemen because they are very strong, but who do not look to the Holy One of Israel nor seek the Lord.”  Translated into my current circumstance, I entertain (daily?) thoughts like, “If I were just in Charlottesville…” and “Things would be different if we were back in Charlottesville.”  In my unsettledness here in Kansas City, I often think that simply moving back to Charlottesville would solve my problems.  Then I would be able to rejoice and be content!  But oh, what a tragedy it would be to move back prematurely, before God is finished with us here.  Charlottesville isn’t the solution to my unsettledness.  Jesus is.  Truly.  And I have a feeling that God is on a mission to convince me of that. 

3.  Speaking of missions, at our most recent all-staff meeting, Mark Anderson, international director of the YWAM crusades, shared with our staff some astounding statistics.  Mark also serves as the president of Call2All (call2all.org), a “worldwide movement calling the church to a renewed, focused collaborative effort to fulfill the Great Commission”.  Did you know that many of the heads of top missions organizations are stating that it is probable that the Great Commission will be fulfilled within our lifetime?  This obviously has profound implications… but is also incredibly exciting!  Let it be so, Lord! 

So, Russell and I will leave tomorrow for a trip back to VA.  Stay tuned for some thoughts on the road…

june 30, 2007 was an incredible day.  here are a few reasons why:

 

I can hardly believe it’s been 2 years already! 

To my best friend in the world– I love you and am so excited for the rest of our lives together.

Russell is wanting me to unpack my last post a bit but that will require vulnerability– something that I only like to offer in doses. 

First dose:  My desire for a vocation.

I hear it all the time.  “So, what are you doing at IHOP?”  “What are you going to do afterwards?”  These questions have been getting under my skin and as a result, what once was gratitude for what the Lord was doing IN me has now become an unsettledness with what the Lord is doing (or seemingly not doing) THROUGH me.  I find myself scouring the craigslist jobs page, wanting to find ’something to do’.  Afterall, I have talents and gifts and passions, right?  I even have a college degree.  I have experience.  I have dreams.  I have a longing to make an impact.  And I’ve been telling the Lord this– just in case He forgot.  Then one day, in the middle of one of our informative sessions, I felt like He whispered to me, “Impact me.  Impact my heart.  Would that be enough for you?”  Needless to say, the tears started flowing.  In my eagerness to impact the world, I have forgotten the joy, the value, and the privilege of impacting His heart.  I don’t need a new vocation.  Rather, I need to learn how to be content in all places, at all times, with all people as I pursue my true calling- to know Him.

Second dose:  My desire for a vacation.

Well, if I could just take a vacation, then I’d be fine.  I just need to get out of this place.  I just need to lay on the beach.  I just need rest.  I just need some fun.  But why is it that after every vacation, I find myself wanting another one, as if the first just didn’t suffice.  Why is it that at the end of the weekend, I feel less prepared to start the upcoming week than I did on Friday afternoon.  Why is it that my “Sabbath” is more often an excuse to have a selfish day to myself?  My desire for a vacation, for the upcoming weekend, and for my next Sabbath are rooted in my desire for rest.  But, I have a sneaky suspicion that my idea of rest is pretty different than what God intended.  I have a feeling that His rest is rest that I can attain in the middle of my busiest day, in the midst of a crowded party, and while I’m running from one meeting to the next.  The writer of Hebrews advised us to “be diligent to enter that rest”.  I’ve also heard it said that we can “strive to enter that rest”.  Entering it?  I thought rest “happened” when we exited everything.  What does it mean to enter it?  Again, I have a feeling that we can live in that rest– that mothers of 8 and CEO’s and med-school students can live in it.  I have a feeling that it has something to do with abiding. With communion.  With “practicing the presence of God” like Brother Lawrence said.  I have a feeling that it costs something, requires something, and demands something.  And I have a feeling that when I enter into it, suddenly, I won’t feel the overwhelming desire to leave for a vacation. 

Third dose:  My actual need for breakthrough.

It’s a common saying around the Capps household.  “You don’t need a break.  You need a breakthrough!”  While this concept is pretty self-explanatory, I will say that I have been learning a lot about my role in contending for a breakthrough.  Ultimately, it’s only the Lord who can make it happen.  But I have a role, too.  Lately, I have been having to remind myself constantly of the Truth.  It isn’t a passive thing.  Just like the David commanded his soul to praise the Lord, I have been speaking the Truth outloud to myself.  “He is good.  He satisfies.  He is enough.  He never fails.  His love is better than life.  In His presence is the fullness of joy.  He is worth it.”  Over and over again, I have been speaking it over myself.  Maybe it’s just me, but I am realizing that when I do this, some of the dullness in my heart is being broken off.  You see, my heart is easily deceived.  It often forgets.  It loves to wander.  And it has been known to rebel.  And I just can’t have it doing that… not if I want breakthrough.  So, I am taking charge and I’m not taking no for an answer and I’m feeling a bit like Jacob who refused to give up until he saw the breakthrough.  It’s laborious- but hey, God never said that it would be easy.  But He did say that it would be worth it.

So, that’s that.  I don’t need a break… I need a breakthrough!!

i’ve been telling russell that i need a vocation.

he’s been telling me that it doesn’t matter what my vocation is.  my calling is to pursue God.

i’ve been telling him that i need a vacation.

he’s been telling me that i need a breakthrough.

i’m slow to admit it… but i think he’s right.  as augustine once said, “our hearts are restless until they rest in thee.” 

restlessness is the epitome of what i’m feeling.  the next trip, the next job, the next friendship, the next meal, the next nothing will cure my restless heart.  resting in jesus.  that’s the cure.

Devotion.  It is the word that I keep coming back to.  What a word to be characterized by.  I so long to be devoted to Jesus.  To me, devotion encompasses wholeheartedness, surrender, and reverence.  To me, devotion requires a lifestyle change. 

As I have prayed for a life of devotion, I am learning about the process.  It’s highly unlikely that I will wake up tomorrow and suddenly be filled with devotion.  Rather, it is a journey.  In my life, it has often started with dissatisfaction.  Time and time again, I find myself dissatisfied with life as it is and that dissatisfaction produces a hunger inside of me.  As the hunger increases, desperation is born.  Like a person deprived of food, I become consumed with longing for something real… something other than what this world has to offer.  I become desperate for the living God. This desperation is not a respecter of my time or my energy or my plans.  This desperation drives me to fervently pursue Him.  And as I reorient my life around the goal of seeking Him, I find myself suddenly feeling rather devoted to this pursuit of Jesus. 

What does that mean in simple terms?  I see it like this:

Dissatisfaction –> Hunger –> Desperation –> Fervent Pursuit –> Devotion

Want to know the truth?  Most of the time, I find myself stuck between dissatisfaction and hunger.  But, I don’t want to stay there!! 

“It is the impassioned pursuit of God that changes us.”  -Bob Sorge

Slowly but surely, I am being changed in this process.  It is not the attainment of devotion that changes us.  Rather, it is the pursuit.  It is the journey.  It is putting one foot in front of the other and not giving up… and that, I am determined to do.

I came across this “definition” of what it means to “die to yourself” and wanted to share it:

 

Dying to self… here is what it means.

When you are content with 

any food.

any offering.

any climate.

any society.

any rainment.

any interruption by the will of God – that is dying to self.

 

When you are forgotten or neglected,

purposely set at naught.

When you do not sting and hurt with the insult or the oversight,

but your heart is happy at being counted worthy to suffer for Christ — that is dying to Christ.

 

When your good is evil spoken of.

When your wishes are crossed.   

Your advice disregarded

Your opinion ridiculed and you refuse to let anger rise in your heart

or even defend yourself,

but take it all in patient, loving stride — that is dying to self.

 

When you lovingly and patiently bear any disorder, any irregularities, or any annoyance.

When you stand face to face with waste, folly, extravagant spiritual insensibility

and endure it as Jesus endured — that is dying to self.

 

When you never care to be referred to in conversation

or to record your own good works 

or itch after commendations.

When you truly love to be unknown — that is dying to self.

 

When you can see your brother prosper and have his needs met

and you can honestly rejoice with him in spirit

and feel no envy nor question God

while your needs are far greater and in desperate circumstances — that is dying to self.

 

When you can receive correction and reproof from one of less stature than yourself

and can humbly submit inwardly as well as outwardly,

finding no rebellion or resentment rising up within your heart — that is dying to self.

“all man’s empty promises lie broken at Your feet… still You have never broken one”.   -luke wood chorus-

in a culture where we are often measured by what we can offer…  i’m feeling pretty small.  it’s been said that the prayer room here at IHOP is like a spiritual greenhouse.  most days, however, it feels more like the wilderness to me.  most days, it feels more like the threshing floor.  and slowly but surely, i am giving in.  not giving up… but giving in.  i don’t have any blossoming ministry.  i don’t have a tangible calling.  i don’t have much to show for the last two years, atleast not on the outside.  “so, what are you doing there in kansas city?” i have been asked. 

want to know the real answer?  the one that i don’t say that often because i prefer not to scare away the person asking the question…

dying.  that’s what i have been doing. 

and there is nothing pretty about it. 

this week?  it’s dying to my striving.  i love to think that i actually have something to offer.  i love to think that i’m devoted, that i’m faithful, that i’m “sold out”.  but truth be told, i’m pretty weak.  i’m pretty unfaithful.. disloyal.. and rather complacent.  i make a lot of promises to God.  and i break the majority of them.  there is nothing more painful than staring your barrenness directly in the face and not being able to do anything about it except for hitting your knees. 

but then, right in the middle of the tears and snot (yes, there has been snot), God has been whispering to me.  He doesn’t wait until i clean myself up.  He doesn’t wait until i keep 5 promises in a row.  He whispers to me when i feel the dirtiest… when i feel the weakest…  and He has been telling me that He loves me.  and He’s been telling me that He’s proud of me. 

there is no one like Him.  and His love.. truly.. is better than life.

I have been studying the ACTS devotional model that Bob Hartley and Bob Fraser have published and I wanted to post a couple of points that have been stirring me.

“If you fight the battle for a lifestyle of prayer, you will win victories in every other area of life.”

“We [Christians] have wrongly defined our mission — we are not called to be moralists — we are called to be epistles of Christ, presence carriers.  Otherwise, we are no different than Buddhists — good moral people with a philosophy.”

“If you are ever dissatisfied, it is because you have forgotten your true calling… to know God”. 

“We tell others Christianity is not a religion, it is a relationship — but most have little relationship.  We tell others Jesus loves them — but most rarely experience his love ourselves.  We tell others Jesus brings internal peace — but most cannot find peace themselves.  This makes us prtenders if we try to give to others what we ourselves to do not possess…  We are fools if we think with an empty, barren spirit we will accomplish the work of God.  The world smells duty-fueled Christians and wants nothing to do with it.”

What if part of being prepared is actually feeling unprepared?  Could the feeling of “There is no way that I can do this” actually be pleasing to God? 

I’ve been feeling that way pretty often as of late…  In over my head.  Unknowledgeable and naive.  Unable.  Inarticulate.  Unprepared.  Simply not ready.

But what if God smiles over me feeling like I cannot do it?  What if in reality, He has just been waiting for me to acknowledge that I cannot do anything without Him?  What if He is that good Father who lets their child try it on their own again and again until they realize that they just can’t.  It’s just not working.  And then they run into His arms, feeling a mixture of shame and frustration, and He just holds them tightly and whispers, “Let me help you”. 

Will I let my pride keep me from that place?  Will I cling to my self-sufficiency to the extent that I miss the opportunity of being held?  Or will I admit what He already knows:  I cannot do it without you.  Please help me. 

 Truth is- I just have no idea how to wire an electrical box, Russell is doing errands, and I desperately need His help. 

Ok, ok, so this isn’t about an electrical box.  But, I couldn’t resist. 

1.  “10,000 lesser problems are solved when we come into a right understanding of God.”  -AW Tozer

2.  My schedule is about to change!  For the last 1.5 years, I have spent the mornings/early afternoons in the Prayer Room.  However, for a number of reasons, I am switching things around… and I am going to be spending most evenings (6-10pm) in the PR.  I have always been a night person and I am looking forward to a little change of pace!

3.  Lyrics to sum up my heart right now: 

“I’ll take my cold, cold heart.  I’ll take my unrenewed mind.  I’ll take your word in my hand, and then I’ll give you time to come and melt me.  I can’t even love you unless you call my name.  I can’t even worshp unless you anoint my heart.  I can’t even want you, unless you want me first.”  -misty edwards– “do what only you can do”

For a strong-willed, independent, and deceived into thinking that I can be self-sufficient individual, the Lord is so graciously and tenderly showing me that apart from Him, I can do nothing.  Coming into this understanding is everything but comfortable and fun.  But I am learning, ever so slowly that He has a part and I have a part.  My part mainly includes assuming a correct posture.  His part is to reveal Himself and cause my heart to come alive.  I’ve never been more grateful that He is so faithful with His part. 

4.  The house… oh the house… the refiner’s fire in this season of our lives!  However, the end is in sight!!  With only a handful of “big” interior projects remaining on our list, we’re thinking that we may even be able to start on the exterior by the end of the summer! 

5.  Today marks the 10 year anniversary of the Prayer Room-KC.  I wouldn’t be where I am now if it weren’t for those who labored in prayer night and day during those first several years.  Nowadays, it’s typical to see 300 intercessors in the room with a very talented worship team on stage leading the room.  Back then, they used to say that if you could fog a mirror, you could sing on a worship teams.  Many nights were spent with 1-2 people in the room, with one being the worship leader.  To what do we attribute the “success”?  Incredible marketing?  Successful fundraising?  The right people and the right place?  Not so much.  What has happened in just 10 years can only be attributed to the notion that God is doing something corporately in this hour of history.  He is raising up a prayer movement to come alongside the missions movement so that the gospel will be preached to the ends of the Earth, so that His Son will be able to return, so that the Church will be awakened and united, and so that justice will be released.  We are living in an exciting time, I assure you!

well, maybe I won’t sing a song.  Anyway, I am invading my wife’s blog. That’s right, this is Russell.  For an odd second I bet you thought Eliza Joy was posting about herself The reason I am doing so is because I think that everyone, especially her friends, should hear how awesome she is. Now, if you know Eliza Joy, that is readily apparent in many ways. However, I want to brag on what you don’t always see – her determination, especially with our house.  Sometimes my wife laments that she wishes she had a little more perseverance or self-control in some areas(Eej could be one of the more open and honest people I have ever met).  But the house is one area where I have seen amazing growth and strength in this area that she perceives as a weakness.  Before we moved in, I would consider it a fair statement that she wasn’t very knowledgeable or handy when it comes to home remodeling. That may sound a little rough, but it is true. Swinging a hammer, cutting drywall, texturing ceilings, etc, were not things she had done much, if at all. Heck, I hadn’t too much either. This week will mark the 7 month anniversary of remodeling. Perhaps anniversary isn’t the best word since that usually connotes a celebration to most people, but I guess each day brings us closer to completion, and that is cause for celebration. Anyway, at the start, I had my doubts. I am happy to report that those have been relieved. So here is a list of things that my wonderful wife has learned and/or accomplished since we bought the house:
- Tiling (She did much of the kitchen, hallway, and both bathrooms!)
- Drywall – cutting it and screwing it in
- Drywall mudding and sanding
- Painting (she painted probably 80% of about 14 rooms, including taping every one)
- Cabinet and Chair assembly (She put together all the kitchen cabinets, bathroom vanity, and our dining room chairs)
- She sprayed and scraped every ceiling in the house, removing the old ‘popcorn’ texturing
- Wall and Ceiling Texturing (again, every ceiling in the house, plus a couple of walls)
- Mounted and hung curtains (very tastefully I might add!)
- Broken up old tile for hours with a mini-sledge hammer
- Helped install new doorknobs
- Seeded and put down hay in the back yard
- Pulled up hundreds of staples from the floor where old carpeting was
- Hauled cabinets, old appliances, huge loads of old tile, drywall and lumber
- Removed enormous wooden beams from the ceiling in the family room
- Painted the fireplace, which was not your normal painting job
- Purchased, picked up and moved numerous really heavy Craigslist items (corner hutch, dining room table, fridge, stove, dishwasher, dressers, bed, boxes of tile)
- Helped me take a couple of tons(literally) of concrete to the landfill (and just a couple of days ago smashed some up with a sledge-hammer!)

So here’s to you honey. Don’t be mad that I posted on your blog, okay?   Love you!

I listened to Peter Loth speak this morning.  Peter is a Holocaust survivor.  He is also following Jesus.  And his story is incredible. 

Peter was born at Stutthof, a Nazi concentration camp on the coast of the Baltic Sea.  The unthinkable was done to women who were found pregnant during those years.  Many times, at Stutthof in particular, the babies were taken out of their mothers by the means of an operation and were then used as target practice by the soldiers.  No babies surived.  That is, except for ones that were born on September 2, the anniversary that marked the beginning of the camp.  Peter was one of these babies who was born on September 2. 

70 years later, Peter travels the world sharing his story.  His story doesn’t stop at Stutthof.  Following liberation, he was abandoned by his mother and taken to Poland where he grew up in the sewers and in prisons, simply because of the yellow star that was sewed onto his shirt.  He watched his only friends executed, only to have his life spared when the woman who was raising him offered herself to the soldiers so that her son could live.  Halfway though his teenage years, weighing a mere 60 pounds, he came to America with his family (whom he was reunited with).  Having a new black stepfather and two little black sisters, he wound up in the deep south… during the 1960’s.. and the unthinkable continued. 

Fast forward a few decades and Peter was married and living in south Florida when Jesus spoke to him and asked Peter to follow Him.  It wasn’t until Peter was back in Stutthof a decade or so later, staring face to face at the pictures of the very men who ran the concentration camps so many years ago when he heard Jesus say, “Will you forgive them”?

Can you even imagine? 

If anybody has the right to not have to offer forgiveness, it’s Peter.  Better yet, if anybody has the right to not have to offer forgiveness, it’s Jesus.  And yet He was the very man who hung on a cross and whispered, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.”  Can you even imagine?  But as Peter stared at the pictures of the soldiers and wrestled with Jesus, he knew that he would not be forgiven unless he offered forgiveness.  What freedom those whispered prayers have brought to this man’s life.  At the end of our time together, he asked us all to close our eyes and to search our hearts.  Who did we need to forgive?  And what were we waiting for?  As this man wrapped his arms around a few who were weeping and as he led them in prayers of forgiveness, I could barely hold it together.  Forgiveness is a powerful, powerful thing.

you know you are remodeling when….

you wake up in the middle of the night, prop yourself up on your forearms, start to rub your eyes and are alarmed by the sudden gesture of your husband reaching across as if to protect you from laying back down on the pillow. 

“no, no, no!  no!” russell warned me loud and clear.  confused, i tried to lay back down, but he held me back… and kept saying “no”.  after a few seconds of his resistance, i started to get irritated.  after all, it was the middle of the night and i just wanted to lay down!

as the alarm sounded this morning, you can guess what the first words out of my mouth were!  well, atleast you can guess what they were going to be!  before i could open my mouth, russell exclaimed, “guess what happened in my dream last night, honey??  we were tiling the surface of the bed… and you were trying to lay down on it, but i held you back!”

you know you are remodeling when… you dream about tiling the bed. 

pictures of our tiling job from this weekend to come….

these are long overdue… i know, i know.

the view from the front of angie’s house… where our small group stayed in telluride

the top of the slopes in breckenridge

joe, garth, dave, and russell at the top of revelation bowl in telluride

4-wheeling in telluride

lauren (our generous breckenridge hostess) and her boyfriend, ryan

russell and i spent one afternoon in the terrain park (he skiied and i snapped a few shots!)

despite any pre-skiing arguments that may or may not have occurred about the trendiness of russell’s outfit, this picture proves that i am grateful for his colorful pants, or else you wouldn’t even be able to see him!

this is how i feel about colorado.  big thanks to the friedery’s and to angie…  you guys rock!

There is a song that has been on repeat in my car for the last several days.  It has to do with the simplicity of the gospel and I find myself listening to it, resonating with it, longing for what it describes, and asking the Lord for that simplicity again.  Here are the lyrics:

“Do you remember, do you remember the first time when you felt His presence, the presence of the Spirit?  ‘Cause He’s a person with emotions, with thoughts, and He wants to talk to you.  He wants to get to know you.  Do you remember when you felt His presence for the first time?  And He’s like wind.  He’s like rain.  He’s like fire.  He’s like oil.  He’s the anointed.  And some of you are needing a fresh infilling.  You are needing a touch from the Spirit.  And He said, ‘How much more will I give my Spirit?  I give generously.  I give freely.’  Are you hungry?  Are you open?  Do you believe?  Because all you have to have is hunger.  All you have to be is open.  All you have to do is believe in your heart that He will come to you.  He will come to you.  He will touch you today.  He will give you strength, renew your vision, renew your heart, your mind in clarity and understanding, in wisdom.  So if you are hungry, if you’re open, if you believe, open up your hands and receive the Spirit, receive the Spirit.  For He’s like wind.  He’s like rain.  He’s like fire.  He’s like oil.”

Could it really be that simple?  All I have to have is hunger?  All I have to be is open?  All I have to do is believe?  Is the bar really set that low?  Could it really be that easy?  If so, no wonder it’s the best news in the world. 

This morning, as I sat in my car in the driveway, not wanting to turn off the song, I just let all of it wash over me as I cried away the burdens and the chaos and the struggles of yesterday.  I just want Him.  I barely know Him– but from what I do know, I just want Him.  Nothing on this earth satisfies.  No one loves like He does.  He is more real than I know and He is far better than I could ever imagine.

It’s Day 1 of our trip… and I just have an overwhelming sense of, “I miss Him”.  Don’t get me wrong.  I love vacation.  I love the idea of “getting away” and embarking on a journey.  I love to rest and to relax and to laugh and to eat great food.  I love to spend time with friends and especially with my husband.  These are all incredible blessings from the Lord.  And for those of you who don’t know, we’re spending a few days at one of Russell’s college friend’s house in Breckenridge and doing Russell’s favorite thing in the world: skiing. 

But in the midst of it all, I cannot cover up this aching that I have inside of me.  I mean, we’re living it up out here– and yet I find myself on the verge of tears because deep down, I still want more. 

I want the living, breathing, vibrant relationship with the Lord that Scripture talks about… truly.  I want to talk with Him, not just to Him.  I want to the abiding like Jesus described in John 15.  I want the communion.  I want the fellowship.  I want the nearness.  And I want to wage war against everything in my life that is hindering these very things that I desire. 

I don’t know how else to articulate it.  Maybe that’s why Scripture calls it a groan.  And somehow, that settles me right now… knowing that I don’t need a well-crafted prayer… knowing that I cannot earn this… but knowing that when I don’t have the words to say, Someone is praying for me.  Someone is contending for me.  Someone does not sleep or slumber.  Someone is watching over me, smiling upon me, loving me, leading me, and drawing me closer, nearer, and higher.  What an incredible God we have.

As of last Monday, we have owned our house for five whole months.  Along with owning, which sounds cool, comes slavery to remodeling, which doesn’t sound so cool.  These last five months have been stressful, challenging, and actually pretty exhilirating from time to time, too.  Overall, however, we’re pretty tired.  We took a friend up on an offer and are headed out of town today for some much needed rest and for some connect time between the two of us (without talking about the house).  The car is packed, three wahoos will be staying at our house, and we’re finishing up last minute errands before we get on the road. 

Stay tuned for pictures as to where we end up. 

Yesterday, February 27, was a very important day!  My wonderful father, known to many as Bob, or Grandbob, or Mr. Bob, turned 55. 

As I was about to serenade him on the phone yesterday morning, he picked up the other end and abruptly inquired, “What do you want???”… and then he chuckled, like always.  It’s just like him to do such a thing, and I love him for it.

Here’s a montage (like Bob Saget would always say) dedicated to you, Dad:

This is one proud (and handsome!) grand-bob!

I want Jesus.  The real Jesus.  Not the cultural Jesus.  Not the religious Jesus.  Not the boring Jesus.  Not the legalistic Jesus.  Not the watered down Jesus.  Not the 5′10 caucasian looking Jesus.  I want the real Jesus– the kindest Man who ever walked this earth– the Jesus who washed the feet of the very man who was about to betray Him– the Jesus who is the Lamb who was slain and the coming King.

I want eyes to see.  There’s a blind man who comes to the Prayer Room around the same time as me each day, and I often feel a mixture of sorrow and righteous anger for his condition.  But then, one day, I felt as if the Lord said to me, “Atleast he knows that he is blind”.  Just like that, my heart was pierced.  The real issue is that I don’t realize that I am blind (Rev 3:17), desperately needing God to open my eyes to see what is really going on.

I want community– not the Christian buzzword, not human fellowship for the sake of fellowship, but true community, Acts-like community.  I want to go deep with people, praying together, contending for each other, sharing our joys and our burdens, providing for each other.  I want real community- inspired by the Holy Spirit.

I want the wrong things to be made right.  I’m tired of laying hands on someone, asking the Lord to heal them, and not seeing any visible change.  I want to see a corporate release of God’s power– that is not a respecter of persons (Acts 10:34)– that shows no partiality to denomination, age, color, or intellect.  I’ll keep praying– but with the hope that an outpouring is coming… soon.

I want a lot of things– but these, in particular, were stirring in my heart this morning. 

What do you want?  I think it’s high time for us to start asking for it.

Dear Samuel August LePage,

Welcome to the world!

Our dear friends, Katie and Nathan LePage gave birth (well, ok, just Katie gave birth, but you get the point) to an adorable baby boy late Friday night.  We’ve been waiting awhile for this little one to come and so it was a privilege for me and Russell to visit Samuel and his parents in the hospital yesterday.  Both Samuel and Katie (and Nathan!) are really healthy and happy!

Here are a few pictures of the little guy: