tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87299496297386650022023-11-15T05:03:44.215-08:00Unglamorous MotherhoodMelissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-14941006043496264372010-02-04T16:34:00.000-08:002010-02-04T16:35:00.061-08:00I'm on the move...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span">Join me at my new blog...</span></span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"><a href="http://www.melissabrotherton.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span">http://www.melissabrotherton.com</span></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
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</span></span></div>Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-48681017264615810622010-02-02T14:28:00.000-08:002010-02-02T14:28:30.654-08:00Life is a highway...<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_njEFPObY3M0/S2im9sUe25I/AAAAAAAAANw/IBE70NcqO_U/s1600-h/road.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_njEFPObY3M0/S2im9sUe25I/AAAAAAAAANw/IBE70NcqO_U/s400/road.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Mapped out routes. Destination guides. Planned itineraries. These things make my heart happy. I like to know where I’m going, how long it will take and what I will do once I’m there.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I don’t know about you, but God doesn’t always work that way with me.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Right now I’m in one of those times where I have no map, destination or plan; and it’s driving me crazy! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I graduated from college last spring and this May Josh will graduate. We are at a place that most people expect some sort of transition; I expected some sort of transition. We moved here three years ago so that Josh could finish Bible College and become a licensed pastor. At least, that was our goal. Now that the goal is within sight, I’m wondering if that was God’s goal. By that I mean that there is no transition in our future (other than that of adding another child to our family – but that’s nothing). God’s not moving us; nothing in our life will change, except we won’t have homework.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Recently I was challenged with the idea that the <a href="http://blog.dayspring.com/2010/02/the-rest-of-your-story-18-what-about-your-goals.html">goal is not what’s important</a>. It’s more about the journey. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This is a foreign concept for me. I am a goal-oriented, task-focused person. I want to check things off my to-do list. I don’t mind a few detours along the way, as long as they’re scheduled and they don’t take too long.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But this idea of the journey takes the focus off the goal and instead highlights the importance of the steps. I was reading in Exodus today and I realized that if I were an Israelite woman stuck in the desert with Moses I probably would have been smited. I would have been one of the ones questioning his leadership abilities and grumbling that we were walking around directionless in the desert. I admire leaders with a plan, with goals, with vision for the future. I know I would not have gotten the concept that the journey in the desert has a purpose.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This thought is a challenge to me and to my very nature. I’m still processing it and learning to look around and discover what God has for me “en route.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Are you someone who savors the journey or do you lean more to the “set your sights on the prize” catagory?</div><!--EndFragment-->Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-18490701052817812012010-01-28T14:33:00.000-08:002010-01-28T14:33:53.161-08:00Where Can I Get Spiritual Cosmetic Surgery?<!--StartFragment--> <br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_njEFPObY3M0/S2IPTZkTqnI/AAAAAAAAANk/5ewy_4_ygZA/s1600-h/main-new3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="378" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_njEFPObY3M0/S2IPTZkTqnI/AAAAAAAAANk/5ewy_4_ygZA/s400/main-new3.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Photo from www.weightlosscenters.com</i></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">If you live in Southern California you’ve probably seen this woman. We see three or four of her billboards when we drive Josh to work. I’m not going to get into a discussion about this procedure…the only reason I mention it is because I’ve been thinking a lot today about the non-physical things I wish I could fix about myself with a cut here or there.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">There are things in my personality that make me cringe and I think, “Life would be so much easier if only that were gone/different/better.” I get frustrated about it for a couple of days, maybe even a month, and then I move on. I’m looking for a quick fix because I get easily distracted and get tired of waiting for results.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Today I was reminded by a <a href="http://blog.dayspring.com/2010/01/the-rest-of-your-story-14-.html">blog</a> I follow that my focus shouldn’t be removing those parts of myself, but instead allowing God to work in me to bring me nearer to what He intended me to be. Psalms 139 assures me that God formed my inner being and knew me in my unformed state. He skillfully wrought me and all my days are already written in His book.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The things about my personality that frustrate and discourage me don’t surprise God. He’s not surprised, but He does want to work in me so that those things become blessings to others and tools for His kingdom. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">So, instead of editing myself I need to hand the red pen over to God and realize that He won’t get distracted or tired of waiting for results. He is able to work a change in me that is more permanent than the quick fix I’m looking for. This trust in His loving ability to bring about a change for good in my life is what makes me not only willing but eager to hand over that editing tool to Him.<br />
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</div><!--EndFragment-->Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-84535020128324796892010-01-25T15:21:00.000-08:002010-01-25T15:21:48.437-08:00Help Wanted<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">How often do you tell people, “I’ll be praying for you” and then forget completely about it once they’re not in front of you? I know with me it happens more than I’d like to admit. I sometimes wonder about my faith in prayer because of how infrequently I remember to place the cares and concerns that weigh me down into God’s hands. It’s like prayer has become a last resort: “Well, I guess all I can do is pray.” It’s like a “Hail Mary” pass in football. I don’t really expect anything to come of it but I might as well try.<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">Growing up in the church, attending a private school for most of my school years and then graduating from Bible College I have memorized a lot verses concerning prayer. These are a couple of the ones I hear most often among Christians:<br />
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</div><blockquote>“Is anyone among you sick? Then he must call for the elders of the church and they are to pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord; and the prayer offered in faith will restore the one who is sick, and the Lord will raise him up, and if he has committed sins, they will be forgiven him. Therefore, confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another so that you may be healed. <b>The effective prayer of a righteous man can accomplish much.</b>” James 5:13-16 (emphasis mine)</blockquote><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><o:p></o:p><br />
</div><blockquote>“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and petition with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6-7</blockquote><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">But it’s almost like they’ve become catch phrases to me instead of powerful reminders of the importance of bringing people and situations before the presence of God. I still struggle to understand the balance between praying for what I want to happen and praying for God’s will to be done. Ultimately I always want God’s will to be done…but what if His will doesn’t cause things to turn out the way I expect them to? What if His will doesn’t make any sense to me? <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">I know in my head that God’s will for us is perfect and that He works out all things for the good of those who are living according to His will. It’s the living it out and turning to Him that isn’t always so easy. This weekend I really struggled with it.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">This is my Grandma Bev:<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"> <o:p><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_njEFPObY3M0/S14YbQtOddI/AAAAAAAAANQ/jEePyVYuxtE/s1600-h/16753_197993436791_557326791_3546978_7418662_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_njEFPObY3M0/S14YbQtOddI/AAAAAAAAANQ/jEePyVYuxtE/s320/16753_197993436791_557326791_3546978_7418662_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></o:p><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">She is one of the most important people in my life…and right now she’s in the hospital. She has myelodysplastic syndrome, which is a fancy name for pre-leukemia. According to the American Cancer Society, this is a condition when the blood-forming cells in the bone marrow are damaged.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">Ten years ago she was diagnosed with a different form of cancer – one that had no documented survivors. After surgeries, radiation treatment, chemotherapy, changes in diet, blood dialysis and more my grandma beat all the odds against her and went into remission. Late last year, during a regular check-up with her cancer doctor they discovered that her blood cell counts were dangerously low. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">For the last few months she has undergone chemotherapy treatment, blood transfusions, painful bone marrow biopsies and feared going into public because of her inability to fight off disease and infection. She has already had multiple hospital visits and her current hospital stay length is undetermined – they won’t discharge her till her white count is 500; it’s at 48 right now. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">Being 1500 miles away it’s easy to forget the severity of the situation. During her first bout of cancer I lived with my grandparents. I was there to sit with my grandma during the day. I was there to talk with my grandpa about his fears and concerns and confusion about what the right treatment option was. I was there…<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">Now I’m in another state and the cares and needs of my own family, pregnancy, home and life here distract me from what’s going on. Plus I know that she’s well taken care of by my family in Washington and her doctors. Her admission to the hospital last week brought it all to the forefront of my mind once again. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">I wish I was there. I don’t want to feel useless. I want to fight alongside her. But I can’t be. So I pray…<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">This is one of those instances that my only reliance is on prayer. That’s the only thing I can do to help. That and to write this post so others know what she’s going through and can join me in praying for her. Here is a list of prayer requests that I would appreciate your prayers for:<br />
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</div><ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">That her body would begin to produce enough healthy blood cells so that she can leave the hospital and be considered a candidate for a bone marrow transplant.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">That the bone marrow transplant, once allowed, would go smoothly and that her body would accept the donor marrow. Her brother has been determined a great candidate and they’re both just waiting on the green light from her doctor.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">That she would be able to endure the difficult recovery process following a bone marrow transplant: 1 month in the hospital and 3 months living near the hospital so she’s accessible for the constant monitoring necessary after the transplant.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">That she and my grandpa would feel peace regarding the decisions they’re making, along with their doctor’s help. That they would have hope for the future and a full recovery. That they would not be overcome with discouragement, fear, hopelessness or depression in the face of all the difficult statistics and information they are constantly receiving.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">Lastly, for my family in Washington who are doing so much to support and take care of my grandparents as they’re dealing with this illness. For their relationships, finances, personal health, and the other responsibilities they have to deal with throughout their days. </li>
</ul><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">Thank you for your prayers and support for my grandma and I am believing that God can and will heal her from this just as He did before. Like the father in Mark 9, I’m crying out to God: “I do believe; help my unbelief.”<br />
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</div>Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-68811756537835836402010-01-22T17:00:00.000-08:002010-01-22T17:00:23.578-08:00Undivided<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_njEFPObY3M0/S1pJc319riI/AAAAAAAAANI/Q9MfFoNzVig/s1600-h/leaky_faucet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="312" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_njEFPObY3M0/S1pJc319riI/AAAAAAAAANI/Q9MfFoNzVig/s400/leaky_faucet.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Mommy. MOMmy. MOMMY. Mommy. MOOOOMMMMYYY.”<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">It’s one of the clichés of parenthood. The constant, incessant, non-stop, persistent - do you get the point - nagging of a small child’s voice.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">I remember before I was a parent, sitting with people who had children and wondering why they didn’t pay attention. How were they able to ignore that gnat-like buzzing in their ears?<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Then I had my own children. It’s easy to acclimate to sounds. I live across the street from a parking garage and, for the most part, have tuned out the sounds of cars coming and going outside my window. Like this, my children’s pestering has become the white noise in the background of my everyday life. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">On occasion I’ll be in the middle of something and one of my kids will attempt to get my attention. The funny part is when Josh is there; he hasn’t become quite as inured to it as I have. After a minute he’ll say, “Melissa! Aren’t you going to answer them?” I fully intended to respond; I just wanted to finish what I was doing first.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Today God showed me that I’ve been treating Him the same way. There are times during my day when I feel the Holy Spirit’s prompting:<br />
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</div><blockquote>"Sit down and read your Bible."</blockquote><blockquote>"Pray about that."</blockquote><blockquote>"Put on worship music instead of those kids’ shows – it will help with your peace of mind."</blockquote><blockquote>"Call that person."</blockquote><blockquote>"Spend time with Me."</blockquote><blockquote>"Melissa. MELissa. MELISSA."</blockquote><ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc"></ul><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And I brush it away.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">I hear You. I’ll get to it in a minute. Ok, you’re right, just let me finish this first. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Even when I do respond, I’m not giving Him my undivided attention. I’ll turn from doing my devotions to reprimand the kids. I’ll be thinking of all the things I need to get done instead of concentrating on my prayers. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The thing is…it’s not for His sake that He wants me to focus on Him. Reading my Bible, worship, prayer, and down times all correct my perspective, strengthen me, encourage me, show me His love, grace and mercy. It’s good for me to remove myself from ME and recognize how small and insignificant I am compared to Him and His plans. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b></b><br />
</div><b><blockquote>“…blessed are those who hear the word of God and observe it.” Luke 11:28</blockquote><br />
</b>It’s time for me to take God out of the background and pay attention when He speaks. He knows what is on my to-do list, but He also knows what’s more important.<br />
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</span></span></div>Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-63381404285870076542010-01-21T17:01:00.000-08:002010-01-21T17:01:23.630-08:00Can I have a do-over?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_njEFPObY3M0/S1j4yFV_mPI/AAAAAAAAALw/jgiYBOLV0yg/s1600-h/paper-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_njEFPObY3M0/S1j4yFV_mPI/AAAAAAAAALw/jgiYBOLV0yg/s640/paper-1.jpg" /></a><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">One of my favorite things is a blank piece of college-ruled paper. I love the possibilities that it holds. I envision the sentences I could write, the lists I could create and the crispness of the dark ink on the bright paper. Then I start to write…and it doesn’t look quite the way I imagined. So, I crumple up the paper and start over fresh.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Today is a day I wish I could crumple up and start over fresh.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">I yelled too loud…said things I shouldn’t…and took out my personal frustrations on the kids. Every parent has those days, I know, but that doesn’t make me feel any better. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">I left the kids in their room because I knew I was about to lose it and didn’t want them to see me crying. After a couple minutes of sobbing (mine, not theirs) I called them out. I knew I needed to apologize for the way I acted. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Instantly Elijah climbed into my lap and gave me a hug, saying, “Mommy, we super-super forgive you.” Then he wiped a tear from under my eye…which just made me cry all over again.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">In the spirit of my New Year’s Resolution I’m not going to beat myself up about this. But, I do know that I wasn’t doing my best right then and I could have handled it different. So…<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Thank you God for my children and the blessing that they are to me. Please help me to be a more patient, selfless mommy to them and to remember to always apologize when I make a mistake. Remind me of how lucky I am to have them and to be able to stay home with them. In Jesus name, Amen.<o:p></o:p></i><br />
</div><!--EndFragment-->Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-64642340747989527262010-01-16T10:59:00.000-08:002010-01-16T10:59:53.217-08:00"Once upon a time..."<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_njEFPObY3M0/S1IMmz91qiI/AAAAAAAAALo/35quT4RPByg/s1600-h/BESTDREAM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_njEFPObY3M0/S1IMmz91qiI/AAAAAAAAALo/35quT4RPByg/s640/BESTDREAM.jpg" /></a><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">This morning my daughter, Cora, “read” us a story from the Bible. It mostly consisted of “a little man named Mike” battling it out with “crocodiles, alligators, monsters, and bad people” in an “apple house.” In the end the monster ate all of the people, except Mike his brothers, sisters and kids. Josh and I were trying hard not to laugh at her as she told us this fantastic, random tale of woe. We didn’t want her to stop because she thought we were making fun of her.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">This Saturday morning scene got me thinking about imagination. When I was little I could stay in my grandparent’s pool all day coming up with stories about being a mermaid and having tea parties on the pool floor. Or those times when I would play in our backyard with the neighbor kids and we’d pretend to be princesses and pirates and “the mom.” When did my ability to believe in the extraordinary disappear? Slowly as I matured I started feeling like it wasn’t ok to think about what could be and instead started planning for what seemed to be.<o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The Bible tells me in Ephesians 3:20 that God is able to go abundantly beyond what I could think or imagine. Not to take the verse out of context, Paul writes in the verses before about his prayer for the Ephesians that they would be strengthened in the Spirit and able to comprehend the love that Christ has for them, which surpasses knowledge. Paul closes the chapter by saying that all of this power, knowledge, love and action is for the furtherance of God’s glory. <o:p></o:p><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So, does my reluctance to ask or imagine the implausible from God come from a lack of knowledge of Christ’s love for me? As adults too often we’re afraid to wish and hope for things; to dream about what our future could be. The responsibilities of life take over and our focus becomes paying the bills for the month and hoping to retire someday. <o:p></o:p><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Although it has become somewhat diminished, my natural tendency is to think about, plan for and dream of what’s next. I still think about what could be, but not always with the expectation that God will allow it to happen. I’ve lost the inkling of how much Christ loves me – which is enough to make my seemingly impossible dreams become a reality. <o:p></o:p><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Not to go to the other extreme, I don’t see this verse as a promise that God will make whatever I think up happen. I do see it saying that if I have strength through the Spirit and a relationship with Christ the things I ask and imagine will be small compared to what He has for me. So here’s a few of the dreams I feel like God has given me over the years, listed with a hope that He will actually bring it to fruition:<o:p></o:p><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Work as a missionary in France.<o:p></o:p></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Have a retreat center that provides a free escape for people in ministry to prevent burnout.<o:p></o:p></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Write and speak more.</li>
</ul><div class="MsoNormal">But not all of my dreams are for me. These are the ones I have for Josh:<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Have the ability to play and share the music he’s written with others</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Live in a house at the base of the mountains by a lake…hmm this one seems to fit with my retreat center dream. :) </li>
</ul><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So what dreams do you have that feel like they’re too much to hope for?<br />
</div><!--EndFragment-->Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-14036801192671630652010-01-11T17:53:00.000-08:002010-01-11T17:56:10.062-08:00Slightly Late New Year's Resolution<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_njEFPObY3M0/S0vWmNGWXvI/AAAAAAAAALg/HJdCuB7a7TE/s1600-h/PinkBalloons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_njEFPObY3M0/S0vWmNGWXvI/AAAAAAAAALg/HJdCuB7a7TE/s640/PinkBalloons.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">It’s that time again…when everyone lists the things that they don’t like about themselves and want to change.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So, what’s it gonna be for me this year?<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Lose weight…well, that’s not possible until after June because of the small child growing inside of me. But, I could always eat healthier and exercise more. <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">How about commit to spending daily quiet times so that my relationship with God increases? That’s a good one…but what I don’t need more of is guilt, which would be the inevitable result of that resolution because realistically a pregnant mother of three small children isn’t guaranteed a “quiet time” each day.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Ok, what’s next? Be a better steward of my finances…that’s usually at the top of the list. That’s something that I’ve been working on, of necessity, since I quit my job and became a full-time stay-at-home mom. I clip coupons, make a budget and actually end up saving a lot -- $100 at my last grocery trip. So I think I’m doing ok there. <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So what do I feel like my resolution for this year should be? <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>I’m going to cut myself some slack. <o:p></o:p></b><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">For those of you who don’t know me that well, I am a perfectionist. Constant feelings that I should be doing more or doing better plague me. So, this year I’m resolving that I am doing good enough.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Wow! That’s hard to write. Now I feel like this is an excuse to not grow or improve. It’s not that. I just want to have a realistic view of what I’m capable of in this time of my life. <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Since I started writing a year ago I have noticed a theme in what I put out there for others. Almost everything I write is related to some sort of change that I want to make in my life. Don’t get me wrong, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I think that the Christian life should be one of perpetual growth and improvement.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">However, the Christian life is also one of grace. Too often I focus on the things I’m supposed to do and the person I’m supposed to be. While I believe that all of the prompts towards change in my life have been from God, I think that the guilt and shame I feel accompanying them are not.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I’d like this year to be a year of grace for me, one where I acknowledge my inability to do everything and be everything. This has already begun as a result of the <a href="http://theunglamorousnessofmotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/11/finding-strength-in-dependence.html">sickness</a> I experienced in the first trimester and I know that what I’m capable of physically and mentally is only going to diminish as my pregnancy progresses. After that, of course, I’ll have a new baby to add into the mix of an already crazy household.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>So that’s mine, what’s your New Year’s Resolution?<o:p></o:p></i><br />
</div>Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-86952884151526240142010-01-05T22:16:00.000-08:002010-01-05T22:16:50.793-08:00Something to Say...<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">My goodness! Has it really been a month since I last posted something here?! I knew that it had been awhile, but that’s embarrassing. At this point I’m sure those of you who were reading this have stopped checking in…<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Part of the reason I haven’t posted anything in a while has been my current pregnancy. For a good three weeks there I was pretty sick and didn’t have the energy or ability to do anything other than lay on the couch and moan. But, here I am 16 weeks pregnant and, for the most part, the nausea has passed. I’m also feeling a renewing of my energy now that the 1<sup>st</sup> trimester is over and done with.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">To be honest though, the main reason that I haven’t posted anything here, or really written anything at all, is plain lack of inspiration. I started this blog to write about the experiences and insights God was giving me as I went through my daily life as a stay-at-home mom. My main goal was for it to be an outlet for me and a way to feel like I’m interacting with and contributing to adult society.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">A few years ago I wrote a piece for Radiant magazines’ website about “essential distance.” The idea behind it was that all Christians go through times where they feel separated from God and that instead of feeling guilty we should embrace them as opportunities to realize how much we need Him and that we should use them to strengthen our walk with Him. I likened it to my marriage and how in those times when I feel distant from Josh I strive to return to a place where communication is open and frequent. I feel like I’m going through a time of “essential distance” with God right now and have yet to come out of it. I know God is there; that He hasn’t moved. My receptors just seem to be down. <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">My times of devotion fall flat. My prayers seem to be bouncing off the ceiling back at me. My spirit is left feeling dry and empty. I am set adrift and feel lost. <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This is the main reason a month has gone by with nothing said…I have nothing to say. However, just as I realized years ago, this time of distance and silence from God is pushing me to remove the barriers I’ve allowed to grow between us. There are distractions that I have given higher priority to in my life than my time with Him. There are lies from the enemy that I have let myself believe.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This “essential distance” is now a catalyst to break down those barriers, remove those distractions and disclose those lies. This isn’t something that I can do on my own or through sheer will power. I believe that God was allowing me to choose my path, while still holding me in His hand, and has revealed these things to me now that I’m feeling isolated from Him. He is, and always has been, right by my side. He was just letting me exert my independence and discover once again just how much I need Him in every area of my life. <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So now comes the hard part of breaking through the silence and working my way back to God. But, isn’t something worked for valued more than something dropped in your lap?<br />
</div><!--EndFragment-->Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-42295377812911042462009-12-07T10:24:00.000-08:002009-12-07T10:24:35.314-08:00Finding Balance<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Lately God’s been talking to me a lot about balance. I think it all started with the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e5MOFQctZtc">Target Commercial</a> leading up to Black Friday. The commercials featured two sisters preparing for their Black Friday shopping. One sister was manic about Christmas and needed everything to be perfect and better than anyone else. The other sister was more laid back and lazy about it. As I watched those commercials I found that I identified with both. I feel the tendency to be perfect and make everything a competition lurking inside me. But, I also find myself laughing at that impulse and feeling like it’s all too much work.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">This isn’t the first time that I’ve discovered this tension within myself. I seem to spend my time on one extreme end of the spectrum or the other; never able to just rest myself on the fulcrum between. I’m overly social – having to spend every night with friends. Then I become a hermit and don’t want to leave my house or see anyone. I become indulgent and spend way too much money on going out to eat, shopping and splurges. Then I become a tightwad and won’t spend a cent on anything or anyone. I commit myself to spending daily time with God and find myself drawing closer to Him and growing in my knowledge of Him as I have meaningful times of devotion and worship. Then I’ll go weeks…months…without opening my Bible. <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">This inability to find a middle ground is unsettling at the least. I understand that there’s a natural cycle to life…an ebb and flow to our routines and habits. But does it have to be so extreme?! I don’t believe it does and I feel like God has shown this to me to help me learn to find my center in Him and find balance. <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">James 1 speaks against being double-minded. James says, The man who doubts “should not think he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all he does.” (v 7-8) Now James is talking specifically about someone who doubts when they ask God for wisdom, but I feel like this correlates to what God’s been showing me. When I allow myself to live at extremes I am unstable and double-minded in how I’m living. I don’t expect that there won’t be days where I feel more social than others or have more consistent times of devotions than others. What I feel God’s calling me to is to make them “days” that are different instead of whole periods of time. <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">So, instead of identifying with both Target sisters because I can be each of them at different times, I want to find the middle ground between the crazy, perfectionist and the lazy, just-get-byer.<br />
</div><!--EndFragment-->Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-6732697282639344792009-11-13T09:56:00.000-08:002009-11-13T09:56:16.591-08:00Finding the Strength in Dependence<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">I hate asking for help. I hate letting people help me, even when I don’t ask for it. I’ve always been an absurdly independent person. My first sentence as a child was, “Sissa do it self.” That has made my present situation all the more difficult.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As most of you know, I am pregnant with our fourth child. As excited as I am for this new addition to our household, my pregnancy so far has taken a real toll on my body, life, and family. For the last couple of weeks I’ve been lucky if I eat one meal a day; mostly my diet has consisted of crackers and fluids. Despite the anti-nausea medication my doctor prescribed I’m spending most of my day plagued by a constant queasy feeling in my stomach. This, plus the normal fatigue of the first trimester, is making it hard for me to keep up with my stay-at-home mommy responsibilities. I’m embarrassed at the amount of TV my children have watched and, for someone who prides themselves on making yummy meals, we’ve eaten a lot of sandwiches and Mac n’Cheese. I know I don’t need to feel guilty about any of this, it’s just been hard for me to admit that I need help.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It’s always amazing to me how well God knows me and takes care of me. He provides for my needs that I don’t even ask for help with. He knew how bad I felt that my children weren’t getting to go out and play as much as before and He provided me with my neighbor, Pio, who stays home during the day with his 2-1/2 year old daughter. Pio has taken Eli & Cora over to his house multiple times in the last couple weeks. He plays soccer with Eli and has even made them lunch a couple of times. Physically I was feeling so sick and tired that I wasn’t able to even attempt the feeble protest that I normally would have felt obligated to make at Pio’s generosity. God has also provided for me through another one of my neighbors, a former missionary who I don’t really know that well. This man works the graveyard shift as a security guard at Disneyland. Whenever I see him he asks me how I’m feeling and what he can pray for me about. Every night while he’s at work he prays for people and he said God put me on his heart to pray for. I don’t pray for myself everyday, but this man I barely know is lifting me up before God on a daily basis. <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Then there’s my husband. Josh is doing so much right now, which makes it harder for me to ask him for help. I know how tired he is after work, how much homework he has to do each night and that he isn’t getting much down time for himself right now. Still, everyday before he leaves work he asks me if I want him to bring something home for dinner. On Wednesday, even though he’d been up since 5 AM, he stopped at the grocery store after his cooking class got out (10:30 PM) because he knew I was out of crackers and juice. He doesn’t complain about how messy the house is or that he doesn’t have any clean clothes because I didn’t have the energy to get to the laundry. He is patient and generous and wonderful to me.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This is a hard time right now, but I know that God is walking with me and teaching me to be more dependent on Him and others and less self-reliant. I guess I’m learning that strength isn’t always doing things on your own, it’s knowing when to let others help you. Plus, as miserable as I feel, I’m comforted by the thought that it’s all for a purpose and it’ll be over in 7 more months.<br />
</div><!--EndFragment-->Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-13195896528985010552009-10-29T16:01:00.000-07:002009-10-29T16:02:40.041-07:00Music Memories<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;text-indent: 0.5in; ">The other day I was driving to go pick up Josh from work and listening to a playlist on my iPhone. The kids were in the back seat chattering away and I was feeling mentally exhausted. The song changed and “A Long December” by Counting Crows came on. Suddenly I was 17-years-old and driving my little, blue Geo Metro. Instead of a backseat full of children, I had a group of my friends with me. We are all laughing and singing along to the song. As the song continued to play, I felt memory after memory of high school wash over me. Friends I hadn’t thought about it years, the emotions of being in a new relationship with Josh, and the carefree ability we had to go where we wanted whenever we wanted. Everything seemed young and fresh and fun.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in">Again the song changed and this time “Babylon” by David Gray brought me to my first year of marriage. The coziness of our loft apartment in Federal Way surrounded me as I remembered listening to the song while I cleaned on my day off. I could picture our cats sitting on the couches and a fire in our little pink fireplace as the rain came down outside. Our marriage was new and sparkly and it felt more like make believe than reality.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in">With a third song, “Yellow” by Coldplay, I am engaged and visiting Josh in California. We are driving down the freeway and excited to see each other after a month’s separation; what seemed like an eternity to me at the time. We are in love and excited for what the future holds. We talk about what our wedding will be like and he tells me about how this song, that I’d never heard, always makes him think of me.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in">Then, I realize something about all of the memories that these songs are calling forth; they’re all softened by time, rose-tinted. The worries, fears and stresses that I was dealing with are minimized in the remembrance of the small joys I experienced. Laughing with friends, cleaning my house and planning a wedding replace the broken relationships of high school, the cancer my Grandma was battling during my engagement and the difficulties of the first year of marriage. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in">It made me think about how I view my life now and how I’ll view it in a few years. What song will bring me back to this time when my kids are young and I get to spend each day with them? I realize that the joy of hearing them play together, the sweetness of baby arms wrapped around my neck and the excitement of celebrating their small victories will someday minimize the stress of finances, neverending household chores and being frustratingly overwhelmed.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in">I silently pray, “Dear God, please help me to recognize and appreciate the things of today as I’m living it, instead of tomorrow when I’m remembering it. Help me to have a softened, rose-tinted view of my life and acknowledge the joys that surround me.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-84682027592353269912009-10-21T14:13:00.000-07:002009-10-21T14:15:51.461-07:00I Know You Are, But What Am I?<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>It’s Christmas morning and I go to open the giant box that my mother-in-law sent us. As usual, she’s drawn little cartoons and written notes all over the outside of the box. I slit the packing tape with a kitchen knife, expecting to find a number of smaller packages wrapped in tissue paper with nametags attached to them. Instead I find…a Jack LaLanne Power Juicer. What?!</p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Now don’t get me wrong, this is a wonderful juicer. It can take whole carrots, oranges, apples, anything and turn it into a nutritious and delicious beverage. I’m sure that someone who is into juicing would have been very excited about it. I am not one of those people. I have never juiced anything in my life and it’s not something I have a desire to start doing.</p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Josh and I looked at each other in confusion. Huh? A juicer? By this time the kids are excited to open more presents, so the juicer gets set aside. An hour later, all the presents are open and it’s time to call people to wish them a Merry Christmas.</p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Janet answers the phone in two rings and the first thing she says is, “How do you like the juicer? Did you see that it came with the bonus accessory kit?” Stumped for an answer, Josh acknowledges that we saw the bonus kit and asks what made her think of getting a juicer for us. His mom explains that she had gotten one for each of his two sisters and us because they were a great way to get all your fruits and vegetables quickly and efficiently. Josh thanks her for thinking of us and then lets the kids chatter away to their grandma on the phone.</p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>So this juicer has sat, unused, in my garage for the last two years. It’s dusty, neglected, and forlorn. It’s a fully functional appliance, but I don’t see any value in it. To me it’s useless. Sometimes that’s how I feel about the gifts God has given me. You look at a newborn baby, excited at all the potential gifts that God has placed inside them and eagerly watch as these gifts come out as the child grows to adulthood. I feel like I’m a juicer. My gifts and talents, in contrast to those of the people around me, seem efficient and good for your health.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b>I know you are…</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><b> </b></span>I look at Josh and see the creativity and gifting God has given him for music. He can sit down with his guitar and create music that inspires people, evokes emotion and worships God. If I sit down with the guitar I can play three chords and those not very well.</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I look at my friend Judah, who is the youth pastor at our church. He has a passion and a talent for art. He can create paintings that he then sells to benefit anti-slave trafficking charities. He decorates his home and office to create an atmosphere that is warm and inviting. He uses his artistic abilities to glorify God and create awareness about the injustices that occur in today’s society. If I wanted to paint a picture it would have to be a paint-by-number and no one would want to buy it.</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I look at my friend Dee. She seems to excel at everything she puts her hand to: photography, quilting, decorating, and even raising chickens. She has this personality that invites you in and quiets your soul. She is a nurturer and a mother to so many people in her life. She inspires me just by being her.</span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b>But what am I?</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><b> </b></span>Then I look at myself. I’m good at administration and organizing things. But that seems like such a boring gift. I don’t see any value in the gifts God has given me; like my juicer, I see it as useless. I see the gifts that my friends have and I wish God had given me that instead of what I’ve received.</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Someone once said to me that it’s hard to recognize the gifts God has given you because they come naturally to you. I don’t see my gifts from God as a valuable contribution because I assume everyone can do it as easily as I do. I see the things that are hard for me and admire those abilities in others. I can easily recognize their gifts, but not my own.</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Then I look once again at my husband and my friends. I look at them and compare them to me for a second time. This time I notice that the things that come easily to me are difficult for them. My husband is awful at time management and organizing things. He calls me his “wifetary.” The same is true for my friends. Where they are weak, I am strong. And it’s not just in the “boring” gifts I have of administration and organization. I find that another thing that comes naturally to me, opening my home and providing meals for people, is an area that they see as a gift in me.</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I’ve always been told that it’s not good to compare our gifts and abilities with others because we all have unique and valuable things to contribute to the kingdom of God. But I think that in this instance comparison has helped me to see value in what I’ve been given.</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>It’s like when we were selling our home. The realtor did an appraisal of our neighborhood to help us establish the value of our home. The need for an appraisal arose because no two properties are exactly alike which means that there cannot be a set measurement of value. The value of my gifts goes up, for me, when I recognize how uniquely I am designed by God.</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>We are the body of Christ and we all have different functions to perform that lead to the betterment of the body. One gift isn’t better than another; it’s just different. I began to see that the gifts I had received from God, when He formed me in my mother’s womb, were important to Him and His plan for me to have. As I look around and see the abilities God has given to my friends and family I now glorify God for the creativity He had in creating us and for the unique way He made me.</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>God knew what was best for me; what would improve the life He has planned here for me on earth. Just like my mother-in-law, He wants to provide me with the tools to better my life. My mother-in-law saw the value in a juicer because, if used regularly, it can improve your health and give you energy. To me, the juicer was useless and there were other gifts I’d like better. Although I might still also feel that way about some of the gifts God’s given me, I realize that it’s important to use them and see the value in them as well as recognize how my contributions are unique. </span></b></p> <!--EndFragment-->Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-67626641028096609252009-10-16T10:34:00.000-07:002009-10-16T10:37:00.210-07:00The Great Battle of '09<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">My house has become a war-zone! It’s me against the germs! And unfortunately, right now the germs are winning. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The last three weeks has been filled with sickness. Snotty noses, fevers, sore throats…and the kids are not feeling well either.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">When I feel like this, it’s hard for me to remember I’m the mommy. I just want to curl up in my bed with some tea and a good book and stay there. Instead, I have three children who need food, entertainment, questions answered and bottoms wiped.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Tuesday night I had a mental breakdown. I would be embarrassed for anyone to have seen the way I was acting; I was embarrassed that my husband had to see it. I threw a full-on hissy fit; there was crying, screaming and I think I actually kicked my feet. My husband took one look at me and quickly ushered our children out of the room. What was the source of my anger? The crib was broken and wouldn’t go back together. That’s it. My son doesn’t even sleep in that crib right now. But, it was vitally important to me that I fix it before my daughter could go to sleep in her room.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Much humbled, I came out of the room (after fixing the crib) and picked up our youngest to nurse him to sleep. My husband silently took our daughter in her room to put her to sleep, then (silently) came back out to finish his homework. I sat there, crying and nursing, knowing I had been selfish and immature.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">An hour later when we went to bed I apologized to my husband for losing it and I started crying again. That’s when it hit me: I’m the adult. I’m the mommy. It doesn’t matter how sick I am, and how much I want my mommy. My children are reaching the age where they’re going to start remembering things. I am the mommy in their memories. I can’t act like the child I feel inside. I need to make sure their needs are just as important, if not more important, than my own.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">So, I’m taking on the spirit of Philippians 2:3-4: </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in">“Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I know that although my mom and dad are miles away from me right now, I have a heavenly Father who sees my needs and is able to meet them even better than my earthly parents could if they were here. He will bless me, care for me, help me as I bless, care for and help my children that He’s given me…I’m really hoping we all feel better soon though!</p> <!--EndFragment-->Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-34401244340184106712009-10-05T22:56:00.000-07:002009-10-09T18:31:26.172-07:00Esse Quam Videri<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>It’s Thursday and I’m supposed to meet her at Starbucks in 30 minutes. The fear grips me as I say a quick prayer while I change my clothes and put on some makeup. Feeling guilty for not setting aside more time earlier in the day to pray and prepare, I kiss my kids and husband and head out the door.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Each week I meet with a young woman in our church to talk and mentor her. Each week I feel like I’m letting her down; wishing I were more spiritual and had more wisdom to offer her. But, she keeps coming back and seems excited for our weekly discussions. I try to steer the conversation to accountability topics: school, family, relationships, ministry, and her walk with God. I feel stiff and awkward, worried that I might accidentally slip and say something that a mentor shouldn’t say. I find that sometimes I don’t listen as well as I should because I’m desperately trying to find something insightful and challenging as a response.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Last week things changed. God began showing me the importance of being genuine, of being me. He showed me that He created me as a unique individual to fill a unique need. This young woman didn’t ask to meet with me because I’m some doctor of theology or great spiritual leader. She wanted to meet with me because I have a relationship with her and she likes to talk with me. My feelings of inadequacy don’t come from her; they come from my own insecurities. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So, as I walked to the local Starbucks that Thursday I pushed aside the normal feelings of guilt and focused on the fact that I was about to enjoy an hour of adult conversation with no children to interrupt. I quit reminding myself that I was a mentor and needed to play that role, and instead embraced the idea of just being me.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>It was one of the best times we’d had in the nine months we’d been meeting. We laughed and chatted and lost track of time. Before we left I prayed for her about the things she’d shared, not because that’s what a mentor would do, but because I felt like I wanted to. It was so relaxing and comfortable to just be myself and not overanalyze everything I said or did.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>This plays out in more areas than just my mentoring relationship. As a wife, mother, friend and Christian I’m constantly trying to appear to have it all together. I want my marriage, family, home and relationships to be perfectly in order and ready for inspection. I’m slowly learning that people don’t want to see the perfect Melissa. The perfect Melissa seems like she doesn’t need help, advice, companionship or encouragement. I’m also learning that in trying to be the perfect Melissa I’m alienating myself from those who are closest to me. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>If I’m not being real with my husband, friends and relations how can they have an authentic relationship with me? They need to know the messes I’m dealing with, the struggles I’m having and the fears that haunt me. That way they can help me walk through it and rejoice with me when they’re really overcome, and not just covered up.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>It’s a classic example, but still poignant, to compare the way I was acting to the Pharisees in Jesus’ time. In Matthew 23 Jesus rebukes the Pharisees by saying to them, “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men’s bones and everything unclean.” I was working so hard to make sure that the outside appearance is acceptable, but I was neglecting the inside. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>My husband has a tattoo that says, “Esse Quam Videri” which means in Latin “to be rather than to appear.” He got it to remind himself that he wants to genuinely be the man of God he knows he should be, not just have the appearance of one. Taking a cue from him, I’m working on making sure that the person I present to the world around me is the real Melissa and not the perfect, fake one.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 11px; white-space: pre-wrap; "><a href="http://www.freshbrew.org/fresh-brew-fridays.html" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.websites.typepad.com/freshbrew/fridaybutton.jpg" style="width: 150px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0px;" /></a></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-86473669820884234632009-10-01T11:46:00.001-07:002009-10-01T11:46:56.760-07:00Standing in God’s Shadow<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.” (Ps 91:1)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>While playing on the playground, by children often seek areas of shade to escape the scorching California sun. In the shadow of a tree or structure they find relief in the heat and can see again once out of the brightness.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>To abide in the shadow of the Almighty means to allow Him to come between me and something else. I hide in the coolness of His presence and can see more clearly. Psalm 121:5b-6a says, “The Lord is your shade on your right hand. The sun will not smite you by day…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>These verses got me thinking about where in my life I need to seek out God’s shade. It also made me wonder about the times where I have felt like I was in darkness…could those have just been times when I was in God’s shadow, which was so big I didn’t realize what I was being shielded from? The closer you are to the shadow caster the bigger the shadow…<o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-46566558793868491942009-09-24T15:16:00.000-07:002009-09-24T15:20:53.411-07:00Double Take<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I grew up attending a small Christian school. By 9<sup>th</sup> grade my entire class consisted of 40 kids, most of whom I’d known since pre-school. Each year the start of school was an exciting time: Would there be any new students? Would there be any cute guys? </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>With each new student there was a rush to introduce yourself to them, before someone else could tell them about you. We’d all grown up together and we could tell all sorts of stories that could either be flattering or fatal. As you know, the first impression is the strongest, so that story was very important.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Growing up in a TV generation, it’s easy to forget that people can have many shades to their character. In the modern sitcom each character has their label: the jock, the funny guy, the pretty girl, the nerdy guy, the mean girl, etc. Unless the series runs for a long period of time, these characters end up staying pretty one-dimensional. This is not real life though. People can be the hero and the villain, the jock and the science-geek.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Today I was reading John 11 for my devotions and I found a description of some familiar characters that surprised me. Like my relationship with my classmates, I have been familiar with these people for some time and I thought I knew them. Today I saw a different side of their character that prompted me to look deeper into their personal histories. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>The story of Lazarus’ death and restoration to life is one that is familiar to every Sunday school child. Everyone knows how Jesus waited to heal Lazarus so that instead He could raise him from the dead. But there are people in this story who are well known for their other appearances in the Gospels: Thomas and Martha. They behave in this situation in ways that are contrary to what’s popularly believed of them.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b>Thomas</b><span style="font-weight:normal"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Thomas is the doubter. He’s the one who wouldn’t believe that Jesus had risen from the dead just by the word of his fellow disciples. He said he needed to see Jesus to believe it. Now really, who could blame him? But, after His resurrection Jesus appeared to Thomas to prove to him that He was really alive. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Everyone looks down on Thomas because he had little faith. Here in John 11, a different shade of Thomas’ personality appears. Jesus and his disciples had just fled Judea because the people had tried to stone Jesus to death. Now, Jesus tells His disciples that they are going to return to Judea, to Bethany, to go to Lazarus. The other disciples try to dissuade Jesus from His purpose, but Thomas says these faith-filled words, “Let us also go, so that we may die with Him.” (1 Jn 11:16)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Ok, so they don’t seem so full of faith, because he’s expecting that they’ll die. But, he is the only one that is mentioned as being willing to follow Jesus into death. He believes in Jesus and what He’s doing so much that he will lose his life to follow Him. That’s pretty gutsy. A lot of people wouldn’t want to be compared to Thomas because he has a bad rap as being a doubter. But I wouldn’t mind being aligned with this Thomas, because he’s willing to die for Jesus.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b>Martha</b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>What woman hasn’t worried that she’s being a Martha? Whole women’s retreats are created around minimizing the Martha in you and being more like Mary. Martha was the woman who chose to worry about getting dinner for Jesus and His entourage instead of sitting at His feet and listening to His teaching. Not only was she not spending time with Him, she got frustrated with her sister for not helping her. Thinking Jesus would support her cause, she turned to Him for help and ended up being told she was in the wrong. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Again, this is not a person most people would want to be compared to. But, as with Thomas, John 11 shows a new Martha. A number of Jews had come to Martha and Mary’s home to be with them at the time of their brother’s death. Yet when Martha heard that Jesus was coming she dropped what she was doing and went to meet Him. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Here’s where Martha shows incredible faith in Jesus, despite His not coming to heal her brother. Martha greets Jesus by saying, “Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died. Even now I know that whatever You ask of God, God will give you.” (1 Jn 11:21-22) She knows that Jesus is capable of healing anyone and she only wishes He could have gotten there earlier. Moments later she proclaims her belief even more fully, “…I have believed that You are the Christ, the Son of God, even He who comes into the world.” (1 Jn 11:27)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>How many people, having just lost a loved one, would be able to proclaim this? I know a number of people who have prayed for God to heal their family member or friend and then watched as that healing didn’t come. It’s not an easy thing to say the words that Martha said to Jesus after that happens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Depending on the situation, people can appear in numerous ways: generous, selfish, friendly, prideful, etc. You never know the impression someone could get from you after sharing just one moment of your life. I know that within myself there are two people battling it out. There’s the Melissa that is of the flesh and there is the Melissa that is of the Spirit. I try hard to keep the latter one at the forefront, but there are times where the fleshy Melissa rears it’s ugly head. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>This passage reminded me that those people who I have dismissed as being a certain way might actually be vastly different than my first impression. I need to be willing to be surprised by them and give people a second chance. <o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-34607544710654490532009-09-18T11:21:00.000-07:002009-09-18T11:24:32.490-07:00Amateur<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I feel like an amateur everything. I love to cook, but have no formal training. I love to write, but have no degree. I love to take pictures, but don’t really know what I’m doing. Everyone goes to school for these things to try to build a career in them…I went to Bible college. Does that make me a professional Bible scholar? Why is it that I feel so lost when it comes to my own walk with God then?</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">How do you tell the difference between hobbies and careers? Aren’t the people that make careers out of hobbies just the ones who defied people’s criticism of them?</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">“You’ll never make money doing that.”</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Why does the focus have to be making money? Why isn’t the main question in people’s mind: “Do you feel that’s what God’s directing you to do?”</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I feel conceited saying that God wants me to write or cook because it’s something that you have to have pride in to pursue. No one who tries to get published or start a catering business thinks they’re not good at their craft. But as a Christian I’ve been brought up believing that you’re supposed to be humble and give God all the glory.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">As I’ve gotten older I’ve come to realize that humbleness is not self-deprecation and I give God glory by using the talents and abilities I feel He’s given me.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So, I’m going to push through this period of self-doubt and believe that God can use my talents to bless others.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:#333333;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">How do you combat your periods of self-doubt?</span></span></i></span><i><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729949629738665002.post-16022575022815501582009-09-10T15:10:00.000-07:002009-10-16T12:32:36.100-07:00Oblivious<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I hate when I’m oblivious to something. There was this one day I ran into a guy I knew from college. This guy was someone I’d always felt intimidated by. He always seemed so cool to me. He was visiting my neighbor and saw me through my window. My then 2-year-old son was running around in just a diaper and I fully felt my stay-at-home-mom status. I had taken a shower, thankfully, but hadn’t fixed my hair or put on any makeup. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">My schoolmate and I stood at my door talking for about 10 minutes. During our conversation my son tried to run out the door. I caught him and held him on my hip while I finished the conversation. As I held him I began to notice the pungent smell of a dirty diaper. I got embarrassed that my friend would notice and quickly tried to end the conversation. After he left I changed my son’s diaper and put him down for a nap. I then went in my room, caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and noticed the most awful thing possible. Some of my sons diaper contents had leaked onto my t-shirt. How disgusting! I’m sure that this guy I’d thought was so cool had seen the poop emerging from the diaper and smeared across my shirt. And I just stood there like an idiot with a brown stain on my hip. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It’s so amazingly awful when you realize something about yourself that you know others already had knowledge of. Not only do you then feel embarrassed about the situation, but you feel even worse that people knew you didn’t know.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I’m sure that the guy didn’t think anything of it…because he really is a nice guy…but I hate to think that the only thing he remembers from our conversation was that I had stinky poot on me.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">So what about those instances in life when you have poopie character on you and don’t realize it? Those “aha” moments when you discover a shade of your personality that has been hidden to you but evident to others. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Until I got married I thought I was a pretty nice person. I thought that I was a loving, giving girlfriend and a thoughtful friend. Then I got married and I realized that I liked things a certain way; my way. So I spent the next few years working on my control issues and bossiness and thought I made some real headway. Then I had kids.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Just like an onion, there’s always another layer to shed of myself so that I can get closer to the person God desires me to be. The image from C.S. Lewis’ book “Voyage of the Dawntreader” always illustrates this idea so poignantly for me. He describes a character from the book who has been turned into a dragon. This character has been not-so-easy to get along with up to that point and so it’s fairly appropriate that he’s now a dragon. The character, Eustace, has a vision where he sees a lion (Aslan) beckoning Eustace to follow him to a pool. Before Eustace is allowed to enter the pool he needs to undress. Being a dragon he only has skin on so he starts to brush away at it. At first only scales fall off, then an entire layer gets peeled off. After peeling off a couple of layers ineffectively, Aslan grabs Eustace and rips down deep to remove all of the dragon skin, revealing the human body underneath.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It hurt Eustace some for this to happen, but in the end he felt much better after everything had been removed.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNoteLevel1" style="margin-left:0in;text-indent:0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This is how I picture God dealing with me. I may be oblivious to some of the things that God needs to remove from me, but eventually it will all come off. It will be slightly painful and vulnerable process, but in the end I will feel better about who I am because I'll know I'm the person God wants me to be.</span></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Melissa_Raehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.com2