All posts by Jeff

Has John Piper ever NOT hit a homerun with any book he’s written?  I tell you, the guy amazes me.  If ever I need the truth, the real stuff, the perspective that takes me away from the fluff of our cultural Christianity and back to the truth of God’s Word, it’s him (and the Bible, of course!).

You’d think I’d turned into Jeff for all the dabbling I’m doing in different books–that is not my character. I’m a serial monogamous reader, Jeff is a polygamous reader.  (I stick with one book to the end then move to another, Jeff reads about 10 at a time…all stacked on the nightstand by our bed).  At any rate, I opened up a book of Piper’s called The Hidden Smile of God, a book about the fruit of affliction in the lives of John Bunyan, William Cowper, and David Brainerd.  Bunyard and Brainard I was somewhat familiar with, but I hadn’t even heard of Cowper.  But listen to this hymn, perhaps you know it, written by a man whose life was filled with grief and sorrow.

Deep in unfathomable mines

of never failing skill,

He treasures up His bright designs

and works His sovereign will.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,

but trust Him for His grace;

behind a frowning providence

He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,

unfolding every hour;

the bud may have a bitter taste

but sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err,

and scan His work in vain:

God is His own interpreter,

and He will make it plain. 

Behind a frowning providence, He hides a smiling face.  Be encouraged today by the hidden smile of God. 

If you’re just now joining this blog family, it may seem a little silly, but to those of you who have followed this journey over the past year, I think you understand why I’m truly celebrating.  Today marks one year of blogging at karipatterson.com.  So why is this so significant?

The Journey

About 13 months ago, my husband, son and I left our wonderful home, friends, and job to move in with my parents so that we could finish seminary.  It had become impossible for Jeff to work full-time, go to school, commute 1.5 hours each way to class, and then even begin to think about being a husband and father.  I knew there was no way I could finish my last full-time semester of classes without lots of childcare, and the idea of driving 1.5 hours to my parents’ house, dropping Dutch off, then driving another hour to school, take classes all day, then retrace the 2.5 hour drive again was just crazy.  So, we decided to take a leap of faith and rent out our house, sell 3/4 of everything we owned, saving only very special or sentimental furniture and belongings, and moved into my parents’ house.  We would then just live on our savings, with little part-time jobs as TAs and tutors to help with tuituion costs, and pray that down the road God would open up another door to walk through when the time came.  At that time we figured Jeff had 2 years left, but we only had enough savings to live on for one year…so we decided to go for it for a year, and then pray that God would open up a door for him to work, hopefully in a ministry setting, and finish school, since by then I would be done (except for one class) and we wouldn’t have the same time stressers. 

The Challenge

A month into this new situation, Jeff realized that without having a home, I would soon go crazy. As a wife and mom, my home is my outlet, my identity, it’s how I express my heart and love and creativity.  I loved being a stay-at-home mom (and student) and thrived on having people over, opening up our home, and practicing hospitality.  I loved finding creative and inexpensive ways to decorate, organize, and beautify our home.  I was passionate about creating a calm, serene haven for Jeff, where we could hide away from the world and be a family.  I knew this was risky, letting go of all this, knowing that it was probably a pretty big part of my mental health, but I really felt like this was what God had for us.  So Jeff, in his loving wisdom, spent $13 and bought me karipatterson.com, insisting that I take all my creative energies that I used to pour into home, and channel them into writing, which was my first creative passion anyway.  I knew nothing about blogging (and still don’t), but it quickly became an amazing way for me to articulate my heart, share my thoughts, struggles, insights, failures, and victories, and forced me to be thinking creatively. 

The Result

I wish I could say I’ve come through this past year with flying colors.  Honestly, I’ve more limped through it–failure interspersed with occasional victories.  It’s been a rough year.  And I wish I could say I’m writing from the other side now, looking back, but I’m not. I’m still in it.  We’re praying God provides a job now so we can move out and prepare for the birth of our second child.  I am still struggling with being here. I feel like I die a thousand little deaths each day, of pride, of control, of identity.  But I feel like significant things have been birthed through this blog–insights I’ll carry with me forever, stories I even hope to revise and put into book form to share with our children, raw journal entries that expose the desperate states we travel through on this journey of sanctification. 

And I’ve met so many of you.  I know this blog is still small beans, but my goal is not numbers–my goal is that through writing my own life, and prayerfully a few other lives, would be changed for His glory.  I started out averaging 2 readers per day (myself and Jeff!)…today we’re averaging 60. I share that because that makes me praise my Father for His goodness and grace, for Him providing a bridge for me, with others, while I’m stranded out here with no car, in the boonies. 🙂

And what I really want to say today is THANK YOU.  Thank you for reading, for cheering me on, for adding comments, disagreements, challenges, confirmations.  Thanks for joining me along the journey, for not throwing up your hands in disgust when I stumble, but for chugging along with me on the road.  I pray that this year is filled with God’s supernatural abundant grace on our lives–that we’d be changed into His likeness, from strength to strength.  Thanks for reading. 

I’m really excited to have another opportunity to speak at a Women’s Retreat, in about a month, this time for my beloved church where Jeff and I each attended for 5-7 years before and after we were married.   It’s been four years now that we’ve been gone and often I reminisce of our sweet days there.  It’ll be a treat and I’m so thankful for this opportunity. 

I don’t want to give away all that I’m talking about (just in case you might be there!), but something I have been chewing on lately, that’s related, is the idea of trusting God for something.  I hear this a lot, along with believing God for something.  I’m trusting God for and then name a thing that we’re basically just really wanting.  I’ve caught myself doing this a lot–right now I’m trusting God for a job, for a place to live, for money to cover the cost of our baby, etc.  And I think that is really fine, I mean those are the things that I’m concerned about and we’re supposed to lay our cares before the Lord and trust Him with those things.  But I think there might be a subtle difference between trusting God with something and trusting God for something.

For example, if I’m trusting God with our living and job situation, it means that I’m trusting that whatever the outcome, His grace is sufficient and His character demands my faith and trust.  If I’m trusting God for a job, a house, etc. then I’m placing my own expectations on what I think God should do. It’s like I’m subtly twisting God’s arm saying, “Ok God, here’s my faith, now do what I want you to do.”  I’m afraid that I do this way more often that I even realize.

In Scripture, I think we have a few examples that can give us clarity.  First, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego.  They were about to be thrown into the fiery furnace and they trust God with their heated circumstances: “Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from your hand, O king.  But if not, let it be known to you, O king, that we do not serve your gods.”  Basically, they’re saying, We’re not only trusting God for deliverance out of the fiery furnace, we trust God with our situation and He is God and can do whatever He pleases. 

Of course there are plenty of situations in Scripture where God speaks a promise and then His people believe Him for that thing.  Abraham believed God (sorta) for a son.  But even he faltered because again, when he started only focusing on believing God for something instead of trusting God with His circumstances, he started to build up expectations, which then led to the son of the flesh, Ishmael. 

Maybe some would say that my faith is faltering these days.  Perhaps. But I think it’s more that I’m finally starting to realize that believing God for something is really nothing more than making a wish list, then slapping a holy-sounding word like “belief” or “trust” on it to make my dreams come true.  The sad part is that I think this is the cause of so much of our disappointment with God.  I for one feel a little worn out, I feel like I’ve had one too many disappointments this year and I’m a little tired of it altogther. But I think it’s because of this, trusting God for something instead of trusting God with something.  I won’t lie, I still despearately want a job for us and a place to live and some semblance of normalcy.  But as best as I can, I’m setting my heart to not just trust God for the fulfillment of my own desires but to just trust God. Period. 

Here it is, me being brave.  Some of you know that for about 8 years I’ve wanted to write a book entitled The Sacredness of the Mundane about glorifying God in all of life.  The problem with such an idea is that I’ve been thinking about it for eight years.  To be fair, part of the process is allowing God to write the book in me before I pour the book out of me, but I feel like lately I’ve just been putting it off because it’s far easier to just punch out blog posts and keep things failure-free. 

Last night I was digging around on my computer and I actually found the intro of the book, that I’d written down in San Jose.  I added a paragraph or two and I’m posting it here, not because I think it’s awesome or that it’s the finished product, but to give you an idea of where I’m headed, and get any feedback, ideas, etc.  I’m still a little unsure about exactly what direction I’m going with it, but it will probably be around 10 chapters, each devoted to a different mundane aspect of life (work, home, family, finances, body) and how we can consecrate every detail to God to live for His glory.  So anyway, here’s the intro I found:

———–

I picked the shirt up off the floor for the fourteenth time that day and hung it back on the rack.  I wanted to cry.  What am I doing?  Just weeks earlier my life was filled.  Filled with prayer meetings, ministering to college women, Bible studies, fellowship gatherings, times of worship, retreats, and teaching of God’s Word.  In the course of a month, my husband and I, destined for the ministry adventure of a lifetime in sunny California, found ourselves out of ministry, out of work, living in a windowless cave in a foreign state, and in the midst of very foreign circumstances. 

That shirt I was picking up again was most likely a bright pink Only Nine size 3X boat-neck shirt, the kind that slips off the hanger every two minutes at my new place of employment, Nordstrom Rack.  The jarring difference between life in full-time ministry and life in full-time Bay Area Retail was disconcerting, to say the least.  Now, instead of exhorting college women to store up treasures in heaven, I was half-heartedly advising middle-aged women on which shade of navy complimented their skin-tone.  There were days in which, after hours of picking up that same wide-necked and impossibly slippery shirt up off the floor for the fourteenth time, I thought, “I know that this is all going to burn someday, but I’d actually like to be the one to do it.”

My passion, during our years serving in full-time ministry, was to exhort women that there is sacredness in the mundane.  The Apostle Paul said that “whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God,”¹ and I was convinced that it doesn’t get much more basic and mundane than eating and drinking.  Therefore, it seems logical to deduce that if Paul told us to eat and drink for the glory of God, then it must be possible for us to do all things to the glory of God.  If anything matters, everything matters.  This is the sacrament of life.  I was passionate about instilling into college women that all of life is sacred and meant to be lived out to the fullest for the glory of God.  I talked about this, taught about this, and prayed about this-and knew that God intended me to eventually write to you about this. 

When our life turned upside down in California, it seemed that my husband and I had been “shelved.”  My biggest fear, always, had been that somehow I would mess things up or miss God’s will or get in the way, and be therefore deemed unworthy of God’s use, set upon the shelf of has-been ministers, whose pride or ignorance kept them from being useful to God.  We had followed God to California out of obedience.  I knew that.  We didn’t want to move there in the first place, but sensed through months of prayer and fasting, that we were to leave our house, parents, family, friends, and successful ministry, and start from scratch in a spiritually cold and desolate city in the heart of Silicon Valley.  This made the catapult out of ministry and into the “real world” that much harder, because I somehow feared that I had “messed up” in some way, or become too puffed up with pride, or too hindering to God’s work, and He had therefore sentenced me to a lifetime of plus-sized fashions at Nordstrom Rack. 

However, God in His graciousness cleared my clouded vision, and reminded me of His love.  This passion He had instilled in me for his glory, for the sacredness of the mundane, needed to be tested, tried, and proved through the reality of life, the rains of adversity, and the worldly pressures of Silicon Valley.  What better way to ignite my heart for his glory than to send it through the very valley of the mundane, and to demonstrate, and share with you, like the cheering witnesses of Hebrews 11 that “It can be done, it can be done, this life of faith and godliness can be run.” 

Four years later, I found myself in another set of mundane circumstances that challenged my perspective even more.  Now, instead of working full-time, Jeff and I were living with my parents in order for Jeff to finish seminary, and I was home full-time chasing an 18-month old with another on the way.  I no longer even had the joy of keeping my own home, of expressing myself through the creative outlet of my house-even if all that meant was cleaning and cooking.  My identity was once more stripped away.  Now I was in someone else’s home, changing endless poopy diapers, managing morning sickness and migraines, and wondering how on earth this was for the glory of God.  At least in the work environment I was interacting with people.  Now I was just saying “no-no” for the five-hundredth time and cleaning my parents’ kitchen. 

This one had my stymied. How? How can this be fulfilling, exhilarating work for the Kingdom of God?  My ministry, my home, my friends, my transportation (we only had one car), my freedom, my identity was gone, or so it felt.  How can this painfully mundane life be filled with sacred meaning?  And once again, God began to meet me.  The road was rough, and at times very dark, but He birthed life through a thousand little deaths. 

So now, I challenge you.  If God’s Word commands it, God’s Spirit enables it.  Do you long for the adventure of living a life consumed with passion for the glory of God?  Do you desire divine encounters at the grocery store or in your classes? Do you yearn for something more invigorating than another poopy diaper?  Dare to live every moment for God’s glory and see Him in all that you do.  You will never be the same, and the incorruptible beauty that will radiate forth from your life will reflect His beauty and attract people to the True and Living God who alone can save their souls.  This is the secret that will turn your life from a dreary and habitually discouraging cycle of tediousness, to a joyful and exhilarating pursuit of the glory of God.  This is the sacredness of the mundane.

A note of caution:  Stepping up to the challenge of living every moment for the glory of God causes a shift in the heavenly places and Satan to stand up and take notice.  Our adversary will not kick a dead horse nor afflict those who sit on the sidelines.  Consider Job.  Count the Cost².  If you are willing, step forward and be counted.  The glorious reward is worth any hardship, and our glorious LORD is worthy of our life.  Therefore, “be sober, be vigilant, because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.  Resist him, steadfast in the faith, knowing that the same sufferings are experienced by your brother hood in the world.  But may the God of all grace, who called us to His eternal glory in Christ Jesus, after you have suffered a while, perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle you.  To Him be the glory and the dominion forever and ever. Amen.”³ 

Today is a Slump Day.  I woke up way late, frantically manuevered getting myself and Dutch ready (Jeff leaves at 6:45am to get stuff ready at church), hurrying him along nursing, and finally making to church, pulling him out of the car to discover he was loaded with a poopy diaper.  Church annoyed me.  I know that’s really bad to say, but there are times when overly happy-happy-joy-joy people can just bug the heck out of you when you’re down in the dumps, especially when you’re really trying to seek God and be obedient and the nice neat “obey=happy” equation doesn’t seem to be panning out so well.  At any rate, we survived, and I arrive back at home, had my first cheesy bean burrito of the day, and tried half-heartedly to clean the kitchen while Dutch played with cars.

By the time Jeff got home around 1:15 I’d stuffed depressing thoughts and feelings–about how something in our life has got to change or I am going to collapse–all morning and thought I was fine then to my horror as we sat down to talk about our mornings, I burst into uncontrollable tears. What a wreck.  He did all the right things–held me, assured me my feelings were legitimate, then left me to my pounding headache and tired eyes, resting on the couch.  At 2:30 I decided something must change when my mom, Mrs. Compassion and Tender Mercy herself, said, “So why are you in a bad mood?”  I am proud to say I didn’t fall on the floor and start crying, but I realized that perhaps my down-sad-depressed-sourness is more frequent then I care to admit.

So, when I get to this point, I usually start racking my brain for a way to pull out of it. Obviously I pray, and I read through Philippians, but for me I need something concrete to get myself back on track.  Usually I turn to a book.  I sat on the couch upstairs and stared at the bookshelf, waiting for some magic title to light up that read, “How to be happy” or something like that.  What I did notice was a book that I’ve always meant to read but never happened to pull it off the shelf.  A simple book called “Teaching to Change Lives” by Howard Hendricks.  I wasn’t much in the mood to think about teaching, I just wanted to not feel so sad, but I’d just finished the last of the 10 novels I recently borrowed from the library (morning sickness gives me an excuse to read fiction), and so hey, what the heck. I opened it up.

Now obviously, it is no secret, my goal is to change lives. If you haven’t figured it out yet, that is why this blog is here.  I don’t just love to see my name on the computer screen, and though it’s therapeutic for me to write, the bigger picture is that my lifelong goal is to use writing to change lives.  That’s why I write. So, ok I thought, this might be good.

Chapter 1:  “The effective teacher always teaches from the overflow of a full life. The Law of the Teacher, simply stated, is this: If you stop growing today, you stop teaching tomorrow.  Neither personality nor methodology can subsitute for this principle. You cannot communicate out of a vacuum. You cannot impart what you do not possess. If you don’t know it–truly know it–you can’t give it.  This law embraces the philosophy that I, as a teacher, am primarily a learner; a student among students…I must keep growing and changing.”

I think I kind of subconsciously knew this, but to hear it articulated so clearly made everything come into focus.  This process I am in, the painful growing process, is necessary if I want to truly communicate any truth about life and faith and growth and pain.  The reason I love love love seminary so much is that I grow!  I change and stretch and hurt and it forces me to learn which enables me to share and teach and impart.  But it goes far beyond seminary, because some of the greatest lessons are those I learn in the times like this morning, when I crumble into Jeff’s arms because I want to move out so bad it twists my guts all in knots.

So I will continue to grow.  I will grow because I want to teach.  I will grow and learn and be a student of life because I pray that somehow by the grace of God He will let me use whatever communication means possible to teach and change lives, in whatever sphere I am, whether private or public.  Oh that we will continue to learn and grow! God please help me to continue to stretch, even when it feels like I will snap in half it hurts so bad.  My bones ache with the growing pangs…but there is life happening, I can feel it.

Favorite Scene of the Day:  Dutch, sitting all by himself, totally oblivious to the fact that I was watching him.  Sitting in the shade with his pudgy little legs wrapped around a colander filled with fresh blueberries, popping them one by one happily in his mouth and smacking his lips as he savors the summer sweetness.  Bliss.

Silver Linings:  After a cloudless day, Jeff and I were lying on a beach towel on the grass while Dutch played next to us in his sand box.  A thick, puffy white cloud came rolling in, covering the sun, but the silver lining was shockingly bright.  The cloud was thick enough to totally eclipse the brightness of the sun, except for that brilliant lining, all the way around the thick cloud, almost blindingly bright.  I’m praying for silver linings this week, whatever it brings.

PS One FULL week, seven days, without throwing up and without a single migraine.  Still plenty nauseated, but no puke and no migraines makes a HUGE difference!  Thank You, God!

I am so blessed by my husband.  I don’t applaud him enough on here; and I realize how much I take for granted all that he does.  He is probably the most serving person I have met.  He is always looking for ways to make others feel comfortable, to help them with a problem, to seek out the person in the corner and talk to them.  He cares nothing for his own status, appearance, ego.  He lives what he preaches–he genuinely loves to serve, love, learn about, and live for God more than anything else in the world.  He expects so little–whether it’s dinner or a clean house; he’s content with “scraps” as he calls it (just throw some scraps in a bag for my lunch, he says). He’s just content.  And he’s painstakingly devoted to recycling–what a cool guy!  So for him I am thankful.

The latest cool thing that my husband does is that he now rides his bike to work.  He has a 1/2 time job working at our church (hence the prayers for a full-time job), so he goes in 4 days a week (that adds up to more than 1/2 time in my calculations, but that’s another story).  Our second car went kaput in December, so for 6 months we maneuvered jobs and school and life with one car, which was an adventure, but it worked.  But for his 30th birthday, generous friends and parents partnered with me to get Jeff his dream–a Marin commuter bike (which was $100 cheaper in June!).  Spendy, but not compared to a car! Then, my husband who loves to take trash and turn it into treasure, took a sturdy plastic milk crate, spray painted it matte black to match his bike, then bolted it onto the back of the bike, creating a carrier for his laptop bag and books, extra clothes, and bag lunch. Thus loaded, he pedals the eight miles to work, over the river, up the grueling Coleman hill, and into town.  He can do it in about 29 minutes each way. He makes this trip four times a week, which means that he’s riding an average of 64 miles/week!  Way to go, Jeff!  This also means that we save almost $50 a month on gas.  It might not seem like much, but it provides Jeff with awesome exercise, gives me the luxury of having a car to use if I need, and saves a little money at the same time.  It’s better for the environment as well, but Jeff’s favorite reason is that it just energizes his day.  The 1/2 hour into town gives him a chance to pray, reflect, think, rejoice.  Sometimes he listens to sermons on his ipod (with only one earplug in!), sometimes he just thinks and prays.  He says that by the time he gets to the office he’s so refreshed and energized, he’s ready for the day.  A quick change of clothes, splash of water under the armpits (at least I hope he does that, perhaps I should mention this to him), and an extra layer of deodorant, and he’s good to go!

Jeff laughed when I told him this was our LiveDifferent Challenge because he said it’d be pretty tough for an electrician to practice this, or a mom with kids, or a meter-reader :-)…or a lot of people. I know this isn’t possible for everyone, but my husband’s devotion to ride instead of drive has definitely inspired me and I know perhaps there are creative ways we can cut down on driving and get more exercise instead.  Such as:

1. Plan all your errands so you only use your car once a week for running around.

2. Carpool.

3. If you can, ride your bike to work or take the bus. Walk to the grocery store or to the post office.

4. Trade in your gas guzzler for a fuel efficient car.

5. Instead of driving to the gym every day, go running outside or do a workout video or make up a circuit training routine with stairs, jumprope, pushups, crunches, etc.  Studies show that those who workout at home are actually far more likely to stick with a fitness routine.

These are just ideas. I know these aren’t possible for everyone, but perhaps you could sit down and evaluate your own circumstances and try to think of 2-3 simple ways that you can drive less and perhaps ride or walk more.  For us, necessity is the mother of invention.  But no matter what your situation and even if money is no object, it’s always fun to think of creative ways to LiveDifferent, even if they seem so small.  So put away those car keys, and let’s ride!

Whew! What a day!  Today was a whirlwind of doctor’s appointment, hours spent at the Multnomah library finishing our project, a quick lunch at Taco Bell (this baby must love burritos), then the “in-town-marathon” that we do once a month when we’re in the big town–Winco for a month’s worth of food, Costco (which we skipped this time), Target for miscellaneous, and Macy’s this time for wedding and shower gifts.  It was exhausting, but worth it.  We came home satisfied that we were done!

But this morning was the part of the day that reminded me why this is all worth it.  We first sat down with the billing specialist at the doctor and face facts that this baby is going to cost a lot (please Lord a job with good health insurance?!).  But then we walked down the hall and in matter of moments, the little slimy doppler rubbed around on my belly and there he or she was…swimming around on the little screen, first waving his/her hands then kicking little feet.  Within moments it was over and we were back out the door with our little sheet of pictures…which only parents (and grandparents) can really appreciate (don’t worry, I won’t post them).

But that’s why.  That’s why it’s worth it.  I guess because I needed to be reminded (again!) that it’s not about me.  I’ve prayed often that God would use me to raise up little servants who would change the world for His glory…and even though it feels like there is no grand adventure going on right now, I’m trusting God’s using this for something.  That’s why it’s worth it.

I was also so blessed today by a phone call from a dear friend. This is what blessed me–she didn’t just say, “God knows. It’ll all work out!”  or “I know exactly how you feel” (which she could have).  She just listened, affirmed my feelings, validated how I am feeling by saying that she’d be falling apart right now if it were her.  Little things like that make life work, you know? Just a friend saying, “Yeah, that sure sucks. I’m here with you. Do you want to talk about it?”  Man it blessed me.  Thank you.

I guess it’s worth it because we’re being used for something bigger than us.  Because when we are weak, friends come along and strenghten us, because we get to see Christ in each other.  Because we realize that all my energy is being poured into a little body who is doubling in size week by week.  Because this little child will someday, by the grace of God, praise Him and testify of how great God is.  I guess that’s why it’s worth it.  At least that’s how I see it today. 🙂

I read this in my quiet time:

Have mercy on me, O God, for I am in trouble; my eye wastes away with grief, Yes, my soul and my body! … But as for me, I trust in You, O LORD; I say, “You are my God.”  My times are in Your hand.  Ps. 31:9,14-15

This past week I’ve just felt like, “Ok, enough. I’m tired of living at someone else’s house. I’m tired of not having a steady income. I’m tired of sharing my son. I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of having no idea where our life is going. And I’m tired of people saying, ‘Oh it must be so special for you to get to have Dutch be with his grandparents all the time.'”  Yes, it is special.  Ok, but not so special that I don’t start to just want my own home!  You know?  That’s just how I feel.  Sorry. Griping here. But that’s what I was doing to God.  Saying, “Ok, God! It’s time!  It’s time now!  IT’s been 13 months…too long!  It’s time.”  And then I open His Word and there is this psalm, written thousands of years ago by David who had it way worse that me (he lived in a cave), and somehow articulated my heart.

I am frustrated. I am tired.  I am emotional.  The laundry’s not done, the bathroom is an absolute abomination (even Jeff said yesterday, “It’s really gross in here”, and everytime I open the microwave I want to throw up but don’t have the energy to get out the chisel and start to work.  My son still throws a fit when he wants a cookie, and I feel like all I do is discipline him, then he’s an absolute angel for my parents and smiles and says please.  I’m tired of breastfeeding, I’m tired of cooking, and the hope of a full-time job and a place to live seems to be getting dimmer.

BUT GOD.  That’s Jeff and my life phrase.  But God.  No matter what the above paragraph says, BUT GOD takes the train of thought on a complete 180 and turns it back to God.  But as for me, I trust in You, O LORD, even in the midst of grumpy frustration and waiting, I trust in You, O LORD.  My times are in Your hand.  He knows what’s going on. He knows I’m at the end of my patience and sweetness.  He knows I just cry to Him and say I can’t do it right now.  He knows my times. And my times, every thing and every stage and every season, is in His hands.  He knows when we will move out, and He knows what is best. And somehow He’s decided now is not the time.  So even though it feels like He’s taking a nap right now…I know He’s not.  He never sleeps nor slumbers, but is always working.  Jesus lives to make intercession for us, and He’s praying for me right now, praying I’ll not succomb to my weak and whiny self-centered self, but praying I’ll surrender (again!) to the loving care of God.  He holds my times.

Do you have something you feel like God perhaps forgot about?  Like, We’re trying to have a baby, God–don’t You care?  Or, Why haven’t you healed me, Lord?  Are you able?  Or perhaps, When will you move in this desperate situation, Father?  Are you real?  Whatever it is, I pray that we can somehow turn 180 and resolve, I trust in You, O Lord.  My times are in Your hand.  Remember this. He holds our times.

Last night, very late, Jeff stumbled into bed.  I peeked over at the clock to see what time it was: 2:30am.  I knew there was probably a good reason.  He slid under the covers and whispered, “It’s fixed.  New hard drive, all your documents, pics and programs back on it.”  What?!  I could hardly sleep I was so excited to come get my hands back on my poor little electronic friend, beaten within an inch of his life by some nasty TrojanHorse virus.  He’d been through a lot!  But my amazing husband, who loves me so much, devoted hours and hours and hours last night to taking an old harddrive out of one of his mom’s old laptops that we happened to have (thank you Janie!), and installed it in my laptop, wiping it clean basically and reinstalling everything, then putting back all my stuff on it.  What a miracle worker!

So this morning, I am on cloud nine.  I have my sweet little friend back, my tiny familiar keyboard, the freedom to write whenever a crazy hair-brained idea hits me.  I can communicate with friends, blog, play scrabble online with Cheyloe and Jeff, and finish this monster project that’s due Thursday!

So perhaps I sound a little crazy, but I realized last week just how much I love the freedom that my little laptop gives me.  It’s my way of thinking, communicating, interacting with people when I can’t always be there in person.  For all the woes of technology and progress….I’m sure thankful for my little electronic friend.  And I’m so thankful for my husband most of all, who labored for hours on end to see me reuninted with my beloved laptop.  Thank you, hon!

More to come now that I’m back online…