If you have never run in an actual race before, you are missing out.  The atmosphere is so full of energy…everyone is in a good mood…you all have a common love of running, so even though you haven’t met before, you feel like family.  When you run the race, the street is lined with encouragers, smiling, clapping, shouting “You got this!” or ” Way to go!”  And the finish line brings such a feeling of accomplishment, as the applause fills your ears and you catch eyes with strangers who are truly proud of you.  And don’t forget the free food at the end, and the awards.  I am hooked on the race scene.

Since having Jack a year ago, it’s been a challenging road to recovery with running.  Lots of aches and pains..my pelvis yelling at me on every run.  After each run, I would know how much of a victory it was to have completed it,  and often would wish others could understand how hard it was for me.  Nevertheless,  I’ve kept going, hoping it would improve with time. On October 15th, I endeavored to run the longest race of my career thus far, the 10 mile Run For Hospice road race in Greece, NY.  The marathon relay back in September had inspired me to push my limits a bit, so I registered for this 10 miler.  When race day came, it was cold and rainy, and I left while it was still dark,  with my friend Hillary Brower, to attempt my biggest feat yet.  Derek couldn’t come because he was home with the little kids, as big girls Grace and Joye each were gone to their own sports events.  So I was on my own.

As Hillary and I stood at the start line stretching, I scanned the other racers running this 10 miles, and had a scary realization…they all looked like hard core runners. ” Oh no”, I thought, “I might actually come in last.”   When running 5k’s (3.1 miles) the crowd is filled with all kinds…some winners, and some beginners, but this 10 mile crowd was lacking the usual ” I can probably beat that lady” type people.  I am not a fast runner, never actually contending for any awards.  I’m a finisher.  But I am competitive, and getting last would not be good. I started wondering how this one was going to go for me…

Bang!  The gun went off, and off I went. And that was the last I saw of Hillary, who is one of those hard core types.  Soon we were met by the huge 5k crowd, who would start 10 minutes after us, lining the streets, shouting the usual encouragements.  And it filled my tank…only 9 1/2 miles to go.  I can do this!

The first 5 miles were fine…I ran almost all of it with a kind, 68 yr old man named Bob.  I was able to keep my normal 11 minute mile pace with no problem and easy breathing.  It was windy and rainy, and by mile 7, I had lost Bob, and started to hit a wall.  People passed me as I struggled to keep going, one foot in front of the other.  By mile 8, it was mind over matter.  There was no one running near me..just me and my Lord. And then God sent Dave.  He was a 57 yr old man, who had been behind me the whole time.  He came up along side of me and we looked at each other, seeing a common struggle…and I said, ” Hey, how about we finish this race together?”  He said, ” Sounds good to me!”  So we leaned in, and just kept going. Mile 9…had been running for almost 2 hours…almost there, and we rounded the the final corner for the last quarter mile.

I was longing for that finish line, for that feeling of accomplishment and sense of common pride amidst my running family.  And then I saw it.  The last stretch and the finish line were empty.  Not a soul was there.  No clapping.  No shouting.  No proud eyes.  Only the one guy who had to beep my race number to log my time.  And he looked annoyed.

Dave let me finish in front of him, a true gentleman, thus letting me finish third to last (one lady had hurt her knee while running).  And when I realized that it was just he and I, standing in the mud underneath the finish banner with the clock reading 2:01:52, I turned, and hugged him, thanking him for staying with me til the end.  I had just accomplished the hardest feat of my racing career, and no one saw it.  I wanted to burst into tears.  I sort of held it together, and began limping the quarter mile back to the food and awards tent (where everyone else was).  I had taken so long to finish my 10 miles, that the awards for the 5k were already going on, and to top it all off, most of the hot food was gone.

As I have thought about this whole experience, I have realized that I was focused on the wrong audience that day.  My Father in heaven was there at that finish…SO proud of his daughter.  He knew how hard I had trained, and how difficult the race had been for me, and He was beaming with pride and full of encouragement.  How often, especially as moms at home with little ones, do we do incredibly difficult things, with no applause or acknowledgment.  We live unseen lives, and need to remember that our God sees, and is a rewarder of those of us who seek Him with our lives.  And He doesn’t leave us alone…He sends Dave, aka the Holy Spirit, to walk (run) with us as we persevere.

Our finish lines are never empty.  We live not for the praises of man, but for the glory of God above, who is our Biggest Fan.  Let’s run our races with our heads held high.  And remember to listen for the One who says, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.”

So, I guess you could say that I was a Goodie Two Shoes growing up.  I had a great family…Mom and Dad loved each other, never fought,  my siblings and I never even bickered much.  I never swore,  drank, always did my homework, went to church, was never even tempted by the party scene when a teenager, though most of my church friends dabbled in it.  I wanted to please my parents.  Never dated (until Derek) and was a virgin when I got married.  Never got in any fights in school…was always the one stopping them.  I think you get the picture.  When it came to all the “outward behavioral sins”, I just didn’t do them.  And you know how you can only know your own experience…only fully understand what you went through and how you think…I didn’t understand others who were drawn to those kinds of sins.  All I knew was,  I wasn’t.  I was proud of the fact that I was a good choice maker…that I walked the straight and narrow, and did what pleased the Lord.  And I thought the Lord was proud of me too.

This mindset began to give me problems, however.  When others would fall into sin, or worse yet, if they did something that hurt me, I would struggle with thinking I was better than they were (even though I knew I shouldn’t), because “I wouldn’t do that”.  And honestly, I WOULDN’T!  So it left me confused at times, knowing that the Scriptures say that ” all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” and that “our hearts are desperately wicked”…we are all supposed to be on the same playing field, desperately needing God.  But I would always come back to the thought, ” But I wouldn’t do that.”  ” I love that person,” I would think, “so therefore I would never hurt them like they hurt me…why did they do that to me then?  Do they not love me like I love them?”  It made forgiveness an elusive concept.  I would say I forgive them, and wait for the hurt to go away, but it wouldn’t.  I just couldn’t seem to get over the hurt.  No matter how many times I prayed and asked the Lord to help me forgive, I kept hurting.

Until God brought me into His classroom.

One day, I was crying my eyes out, extremely frustrated about some of this pain that wouldn’t leave after being wronged.  And like a light bulb, He gently revealed to me this stronghold in my mind, and began to peel back layer after layer…I had thought, that if I did everything right, that life should just work, and that I wouldn’t be treated poorly or be severely wronged.  He began to show me that that way of thinking did not glorify Him and His work in my heart, but glorified me and my amazing choices.  Like I was responsible for all the good in my life.  Then the Scripture rang in my head..” Every good gift, and every perfect gift comes from above, and comes down from the Father of Lights” (James 1:17)  All the good in my life was from Him.  For whatever reason, HE kept me from a life of sin.  HE blessed me with the ability to obey.  HE was responsible for every good thing I could think of, and therefore, He gets the glory.  I had unknowingly been committing the sin of the Pharisees…self-righteousness.  And it was all because I hadn’t fully understood my depravity without Christ.  The story of Simon and the prostitute in Luke 7 always bothered me… “He who has been forgiven much loves much, but he who has been forgiven little, loves little, ” said Jesus to the good guy.  Now I see that that  Scripture means that those who are saved out of a life of sin find it easy to love Him and are so thankful for His mercy toward them.  But the Goodie Two Shoes may have a harder time loving the Lord, because they think THEY have something to do with their goodness.  Now that I see that I have had NOTHING to do with my goodness, but it all has come down from HIM, forgiveness flows.  I am finally free from that pain.  I am not afraid of someone hurting me anymore.  Do your worst, world!  My God has redeemed my sick heart.  I will no longer be like the dude in that parable in Matthew 28 that had been forgiven a huge debt  and was choking the other dude for a buck .

I am so thankful for my Teacher, and for this lesson, though painful and humiliating.  There is much freedom for me, and true worship for Him, when I embrace the fact that goodness is a fruit of His Spirit ( Galatians 5:22,23), not mine.

(School bell rings)

Time for my next class.

Self Image:

Our society is so screwed up.  The female images we see all around us are seldom real…if the picture hasn’t been airbrushed or altered by a computer, the woman has usually nipped and tucked and added a cup size or three.  These images are EVERYWHERE.  If I get groceries, I am greeted by Jennifer Aniston, Angelina, and the new faces I haven’t learned yet.  If I want to watch Transformers, I am asked to share my evening with Megan Fox wearing daisy dukes.  The mall?  Victoria’s Secret.  Internet?  Pop up porn stars on the right hand column.  Video games?  If a woman was actually built like that, she would break in half at the waist from the sheer weight of her chest.  You get my point.  I know often people talk about how hard it is for men to live with all this, but I think it is hard on us women as well.  I made a joke the other day about being tired of looking like Greek art…you know, the round, white statues of women with baby bellies and sagging breasts.  But honestly, I think the Greeks were onto something.  They understood that life’s natural seasons bring changes to our female bodies, and that our version of beauty should change along with it.  As much as I know having my six babies has been God’s plan for me, when constantly bombarded with “the standard” (that’s what I call the “perfect” female body type), there are days that I struggle.  I truly believe that there is beauty in committing to motherhood, nursing little ones, and not always having time to wax my eyebrows and straighten my hair…inner strength and servant-heartedness are gorgeous.   But my frail humanness shows from time to time when I hear of another guy leaving his wife for a younger, less worn out model…one who’s breasts have never nursed a child nor who’s belly has ever stretched to house one.  The liar whispers..”You never hear of a man falling for a pudgy mother of six, do you?  You aren’t what is beautiful…”  This is when I need to close my eyes, and ask my heavenly Father to remind me of what matters, and how He views me.  I love the line in the Delirious song Our God Reigns that says, “God didn’t screw up when He made you…He’s a Father Who loves to parade you.”

Now,   I have seen this go the other way, and have seen women take no care of their bodies, and give no thought to how they look, and expect their husbands to be ok with that.  I don’t think this attitude pleases the Lord either.  I started running a few years years ago because I wanted to do my best, to be, and look my best in this season of my life.  I’m not in denial of my age (38), but I am not going to use it as an excuse to be unhealthy or unnecessarily unattractive.  I love my husband, and it honors and blesses him when I do my best.

Roles:

This is a hot topic.  I blogged years ago about jumpers and suits, and that God ultimately looks on our hearts.  There are so many ideas within Christendom, as to who women are supposed to be.  Many have viewed me, with my six kids, homeschooling, and strong husband, as a weak-willed, subservient, bare footed and pregnant woman who doesn’t think for myself or have any desire to do anything outside the home.  The truth is, I am doing what my Father has asked me to do, and it might not be glamorous, but it is obedience.  He has called me to focus on my family, and to do my best to raise up godly children who will kick some butt in this world.  As my children grow, and I see my Gracie turning into a beautiful, confident, young woman who loves her Lord and can’t wait to challenge the godless attitudes  of the age,  God reminds me that the fruit of the womb is a REWARD.  Seeds turn into fruit.  Hard work ( and often unseen work) pays off.  I’m glad I haven’t felt the need to validate myself and my spirituality by chasing this ministry or that position, and in turn haven’t neglected what God asked me to major on.  I will let people think what they want.  My husband is a servant leader in this home, who cares for me and listens to what I have to say.   And I love serving him and my children, because my obedience in the end will glorify my Lord much more than if I toured with Point of Grace or ran my own ministry.  Oops, I said it.

Understanding the grace of God, and living in view of the God side of the gospel, has brought a level of spiritual confidence into my life that alluded me for years.  As you can see, it’s not that I don’t struggle at times.  But I know who I am.  I will not be moved.  My Father calls me beautiful, and He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him.  I will remain in a place of listening to His voice, and obeying it…seeking Him.  I choose to believe this Truth, and to do my best by His strength to live in this society as a woman with her head held high ( even though other things  might sag. )

“…we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.”

I’ve been chewing on some different facets of God over the last few months…having been schooled in the ‘Father’ aspect for a good while, I realized that I couldn’t camp there.  There’s the fearsome side of Him that Ananias and Sapphira learned of a day late, that I needed to take a look at.  I was reading Romans 9, and it hit me…we Americans are a very fair people.  And I had equated what I deemed as fair, with the right thing.  Not so in God’s realm, if you read Romans 9.  The theological debate over the evil in this world…it has raged for years and years.  I have struggled with many “Why God?” situations throughout my life.  But I found a new peace when I read vs 20…” Who are you, oh man, who answers back to God? The thing molded will not say to the molder, “Why did you make me like this,” will it?”  It was a side of God that makes many uncomfortable…the side that hardened Pharaoh’s heart, and favored Jacob over Esau.  But if that side of God exists, it does answer a lot of questions.  And frankly, I found it comforting to just be the lump of clay and let the Potter be the Potter.

The process, written of in the Scripture at the top of this page…so often I have jumped ship before it was  complete.  I have blogged in the past about my hoper being broken…I just hadn’t reached the end of the process.  And what I am realizing is, I had omitted the uglier parts of God, and therefore found myself angry with Him when it didn’t seem fair, when He was favoring Jacob or hardening Pharaoh.  Recently, two families with 8 children in my area have lost their fathers…one to cancer and the other to a traffic accident. That is just plain hard to swallow.  I heard yesterday that a local woman lost her dad on Friday and her brother on Monday.  How could God do this?!?, right? My heart breaks for those left behind.  But let’s be careful to not be so focused on His favor for us (which I needed to learn), that we leave out the God Who might “demonstrate His wrath to make His power known (Rom. 9:22).  Without that side of God being part of our picture, we are left hopeless in trial.  We doubt His love for us, or His Goodness. But this amazing God, Whom I should fear, loves me.  And that is why hoping in Him…the total Him… does not disappoint.  Because nothing can separate us from the love of God (Rom. 8:35).  I am beginning to have that overarching understanding.  He loves me, no matter what He chooses.  No matter where I might fit in His tapestry of life, He has a plan to make His glory known in this world.

Well, there you have it.  Deep thoughts from a mom who lives mostly on the plain of trying to decide which detergent to buy.  May the Lord continue to teach us who He is, whether we like it or not.

So I have this sweet little boy named Jackson Whitefield that I spend most of my time with these days.  He was born on Sept. 10th, at 2:04 am, after 10 hours of normal Heidi-ish labor, the day before my 38th birthday.  He has medium brown hair ( to say he has hair is a stretch ), and dark blue eyes that will most likely turn brown, just like all my other kids.  Man, I was really pulling for one Frank Sinatra in this bunch, but it’s looking like I’m 0 for 6.  Oh well.  No biggie…he is perfect as perfect can be, and that is yet another reason to praise my God.  6 healthy kids.  I am one rich woman.

They say the first three months are the toughest when you have a baby…survival mode, hang on for dear life.  I’m almost outta the woods, as he will be 3 months on Dec. 10th, and I’m currently still alive.  I think the hardest thing for me is the messy house, and the constant wrestling within me about when and when not to ask for help.  The kids have such full schedules with homeschooling, gymnastics, chores, instrument practice, play times with siblings, etc, that I don’t want to bother them during their (what should be) focused time.  And then if they actually worked hard and got it all done, do I want to hand them a baby the second they put down the pencil?  Yeah, see?  Not the easiest answer. So anyway, Jack and I, we hang out a lot, and frankly, I can almost feel his security growing…his confidence that Mama will always hear his cry.  Maybe I’m delusional, but some have commented on how confident our older girls are, and something inside of me wonders if it all started when they couldn’t understand.  I’ve never been one to hurry up and make them sleep through the night, so I more often than not, go nurse them when they cry.  When I do let my babies cry out of necessity (dinner does have to be made), I’m more comfortable doing it with them near to me, so they can still see that I am there.   I’ve been called a softy, and other things, but I don’t care.  I’m just doing the best I can to raise my kids to be secure people.  And who knows, maybe I’m onto something.  If not,  and they are playing me like fiddles, then oh well.  I got to spend lots of time with my babies.

I jogged throughout most of my pregnancy, and started up again as soon as I could after Jack was born.  I had grand delusions that it would be easier physically to get back into it due to the pregnancy running, but alas, it’s been a hard road.  I continue to press on a couple miles at a time, even though my pelvis complains.  The baby weight hasn’t really budged either, which is a first for me.  It usually whittles away little by little due to nursing, but not this time.  But that’s ok.  I am determined to jog it off eventually, even if it takes longer in my old age.  Wish me luck this Saturday…I foolishly signed up for the Jingle Bell 5k Run for the Arthritis Foundation in Brighton.  Races do get me out there when the weather or my laziness would keep me inside.  It should be fun, in a twisted sort of way.  My goal?  Keep going until it’s over.  I’m not sure if I will even look at the time sheet for my time.

My hubby just appeared from his office…time to eat ice cream and connect for a bit.  (Ahh you say, now I see why the baby weight isn’t going anywhere…)  Chao, amigos.

How ’bout a few fun quotes and moments from the kids.  We’ll start with that.

Reese (4) and I were having a discussion about what it will be like for him to be a big brother to a little brother.  His eyes lit up and he said,”  I’ll have to teach him how not to miss when he goes pee!”  Funny, I thought.  Reese doesn’t have that down yet.

Audrey( not quite 2) is sleeping in a big girl bed now, and we are still adjusting to it’s newly-found freedoms.  Last night, I put her to bed around 8:30, and went to my usual spot down the hall in the living room…the computer.  At 9:14, I heard footsteps and some banging.  So I peeked around the corner, only to see that she had retrieved the bench from the bathroom, brought it over to the light switch in the hall, got up and turned off the hall light, got down, returned the bench and got back in bed.  Apparently, that hall light was not to her liking.

Reese and Audrey are obsessed with catching moths right now.  Many get in the house due to our A/C units, and they wouldn’t want it any other way.  All too often, though, I hear squeals of delight, followed by Reese crying.  Interpretation:  They found one, Audrey “caught” it, and proceeded to mash it between her fingers, and Reese mourns.

Cool testimony:  I recently had a discussion with our family doctor about Esther’s struggles with some elements of speech.  She is 7 now, and was still unable to say the ” r ” sound.  He told me that I really needed to contact my school district and look into some kind of speech therapy for her.  I had gotten as far as getting the info packet from them last year, but never followed through, hoping that it would work itself out.  Anyway, after this conversation with Dr. Picca, I prayed and asked the Lord to do a quick miracle for my Esther, so she wouldn’t have to go to therapy and risk getting labeled this or that.  Just days later, Esther was telling me all about a cartoon she had watched in which there was a boy named Thor.  She kept talking, but my ears stopped hearing what she was saying because I realized she had just said Thor…properly!  I stopped her mid-story and exclaimed, ” You just said the ” r ” sound right!  You said Thor!  That is the sound that you haven’t been able to figure out.  Now just move it into all the other ” r ” spots in words and you’ve got it!”  And that’s exactly what she has done.  She almost looks for words to say with r’s in them, just to hear herself say it right.  Thank You Lord.  That is just plain an answer to my prayer.  Now we have to work on Reeth.

It’s been fun as a Mom lately, with my older two girls, Grace ( 12 ) and Joye (10).  We have an understanding, that whenever they think a guy is cute, they have to tell me.  It is my way of staying intimately involved in the workings of their hearts, and therefore helping them maneuver through these crushes that will come and go.  Far too many young teens and preteens find themselves worshiping romance and boys in our culture, and I’m not gonna stand around and let it happen under my nose.  Anyway, I always know what’s coming when they come giggling up the stairs, often one prodding the other to spill it.  I won’t embarrass them and tell you all who the recent flames are, but I am always encouraged when they come to me.  I will be the watchman on my wall.

Audrey is convinced that my pregnancy-produced outy belly button, is indeed, part of the baby.

A few nights ago,  Esther, who sleeps on the top bunk above Audrey, told me that her little sister scared the daylights out of her.  Esther was just falling asleep when Audrey scaled the end of the bunk, and popped her head directly over Esther’s face and said, ” You seepin?”  Esther had to help the mischief  queen down and put her back into bed.

During this past winter, we had a bird seed bell hanging just outside our kitchen window, so we could all enjoy seeing birds of many kinds.  One day, Esther said, ” Look Mamma, it’s a trashy!”  She meant a junco.

Kids are the best entertainment this world has to offer.   I really am grateful that I am able to stay at home with my children and be a first-hand witness to their development.  Yes, some days it’s hard.  Like tonight for example…I made blueberry muffins with some of our freshly picked blueberries, and while I was on the phone, Audrey grabbed the Ziplock bagful, and put it on the kitchen floor.  Then proceeded to mash some of them with her toes.  Esther and Reese just watched the show.  *Sigh*  But is it all worth it?  Have I ever regretted having my 5 kids?  No.  Never.   Each one is a unique blessing.  It’s hard work, growing kids, just like my vegetable garden is out in my yard.  But the fruit of my labors is matchless.  It was just today that Audrey said, ” I wuv you, Mamma,” unprovoked, for the first time, randomly, as she was walking down the stairs.  And that, my friends, goes a long ways.

I hope these stories make someone chuckle. But most of all, I hope they inspire you all, that children truly are a gift from the Father.

I have officially stopped jogging…did my last mile last Saturday and my last 5k the Saturday before that.   That is a sad thing for me.  Running has been great physical exercise, but even more than that, it has been my “me time”.  Just me and my Ipod.  Frankly, I’ve had more intimate times with God wearing spandex than wearing church clothes at times.  Quiet times are practically impossible to come by in my present season.  Wow…just as I was about to type the words…my life is one of constant interruptions, my almost 2 year old comes strolling out of her room saying, ” Mamma, my go potty.”  It’s 9:49 pm.  I put her to bed 45 minutes ago.  Well, there you have it.  Exhibit A.  A mother’s life is not her own.  And frankly, I wouldn’t want it any other way.  I love my children so much, and I know that some day the silence will make me cry.

I’ve gained more weight this round so far than any other pregnancy…go figure.  This is the only time I have  jogged through it.  Makes total sense to me.  I know what some of you are thinking.  “Does she weigh more than Derek, you think?”  Honey, that ship has sailed.  I passed him months ago.  I’m only 6 lbs from my record baby weight (with Grace) and I have almost two months to go.  Wow.  This could be one large number.  Honestly though, I’m not too worried about losing it after he’s born, and I can thank my beloved running for that peace of mind.  I will enjoy running it off.  But looking at numbers that large can, at times, mess with your mind.  Especially when hormones can bring those days of smallness…that’s what I call it.  When self confidence is running low, and all the blemishes look big.  Come on ladies, you’ve been small before, right?  ( What a paradox…me feeling small!) Anyway, it’s days like this that make me so thankful that I have a God that understands.  He made me this way.  He created the hormones ( question # 2 on my ‘What to ask God when I get to Heaven’ list…Why were hormones a good idea?!?) , He knew my belly button would never recover after baby number two, He planned for women to gain weight while carrying babies to sustain both of us, and created us to nurse our babies and therefore knew our breasts would no longer look like magazine covers…He designed this whole ride, so I believe it is good.  He created mankind and said, “It is good.”    This is what my spirit knows, and this is why I am bruised but not crushed.  I have down (small) days, but I ultimately trust that it is good.   Not to put Derek down in any way, but I know that men can never really understand this process…sometimes I wish they could.  But God understands.  And I can lean on His embrace and His love, and know that He is proud of me as I lumber around, housing His choice servant for a while.

One other element I’ve had to battle this round is the fact that people have issues with large families.  I noticed it a lot  while on vacation…being in hotels and restaurants with our five kids and a protruding midsection…dude, we were a freak show!  Comment after comment, stare after stare.  I swear, if I hear ” You got your hands full!” one more time…It saddens me that our culture has such little value of children.  I think there are many reasons for this switch.  Accepting abortion in one’s mind can’t deepen one’s value of a child…all the “don’t spank or even correct your kids or you’ll crush who they are!” teaching has caused many a poor child to be what one would call…um… brats.  And why would anyone want too many of those?  They drive us crazy!  And gosh, how can women have successful careers if they have more than one or two kids?  That brief hiatus alone might cause her to miss a rung or two on the corporate ladder.  Oops, wait a minute.  I’m losing my balance trying to step down off my soap box.  All this to say, I have needed to burrow into the chest of my Heavenly Father a lot this round, due to all the negative stuff that has been flung at me.  Once again, children were His idea.  The fruit of the womb is a reward.  That’s what He says.  So that’s what I believe.  And frankly, I have 5 amazing children that are no less than rewards, running around my house.  The proof is in the pudding. (Oooo, pudding sounds good right now.)

So, I suppose I’ll leave it at that.  When I’m this big, I get small.  And then I remember that He is big, and to Him, all of this is small.  So as I grow this small man, whom He has big plans for, I can rest in His big arms, and know that it’s all not that big of a deal.  I will keep praying that the pain will be small, the hours of labor will be small, my endurance will be big, and that he is not so big. 

Life is busy here in my world.  I am desperately trying to finish up school with the kids, tend to my gardens (flower and vegetable), keep up with the house, we’ve been traveling a lot which means doing lots of laundry, moving bedrooms around to prepare for Baby boy, painting bedrooms, feeding humans 3 times daily, getting kids to gymnastics and piano lessons, jogging, potty training a 22 month old, trying to stay on top of the character development of 5 little ( some not so little anymore!) people…oh yeah, seeking the Lord about His new venture for us: starting a church…all while growing a human inside of me.  Sometimes, it just makes me shut down to a degree.  I often have people wonder why I don’t like them, cuz we never seem to find a time to get together.  I guess those who still call me friend are those that have learned that I’m not usually trying to find things to do in my spare time.  I would love to go to Tim Horton’s and talk over a hot drink and a fruit explosion muffin.  But at the moment, I’m just not organized enough to make it happen.  Life happens without me planning it, and I do my best to keep up.  I had a friend suggest recently that I should get a “life notebook” in which I write down everything important, so that it’s all in one place.  I think I just might try it.  The Good Lord knows I need help!  And I believe that He is working self discipline in me…it’s a fruit of the Spirit.  That is the only reason I don’t collapse under condemnation and defeat.  I believe that He will finish the work He has begun in me.  My only hope is that I have a friend or two left by the end of the work!

With this new idea of planting a church on the forefront of our minds, Derek and I have been doing lots of soul searching and clarifying of what our beliefs are.  At times, I almost laugh at how interested I am about theology now.  The old Heidi, back before the Lord graciously opened my eyes to His wonderful grace and sovereignty, didn’t have a clue and was truly happy about that.  The basics were enough for me!  But now, I LOVE talking about truth and the gospel and the righteousness I have in Christ…the place the Lord has brought me to is such a peaceful one.  Even amidst the chaos of my life, there is a rest that sustains me.  And that, my friends, is the proof in the pudding.  If the gospel doesn’t work in every day life, then it’s not the gospel at all.

We’ve been talking a lot about women’s roles and the different views present in the church today.   I have had some express concern that I am not involved enough in ministry and have somehow ended up in a life that confines and supresses me.  Well, all I can say is, “the Lord is my Shepherd,  I shall not want.  He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.  He leads me beside the still waters.  He restoreth my soul…He guides my path in righteousness for His name’s sake.”  He has led me here, and what joy there is to walk in the path that brings glory to His name.  I am so thankful that He constantly works in me a contentment for the call and role he has called me to as a woman.  I am not confined.  I am hemmed in by my loving Father.  I love my children, and love my husband, and love the life He has given me.  I walk through the doors of public ministry that He opens.  (Sometimes He has to push me through.)  But my main goal is to be faithful to nurture my 5, soon to be 6 disciples and to love and care for the wonderful man of God He has given me.  It’s simple.  And I like simple.

This renewed blogging venture will be fun, I think.  For me, anyway.  I’m getting more honest in my old age, so time will tell how fun it will be for anyone else.  Much grace to all who find time to read this.  His grace is sufficient, for when I am weak, I am strong.

Ummm…do I sign my name here?  I can’t remember. 

I’ve recently had several conversations with various people about finding God’s will for their lives.  For some it was the, “I’m graduating in May and I don’t know what to do with my life!”.  For others, it was difficult situations that left them feeling like they couldn’t possibly know which decision would make things better.

I remember the feeling of being a senior in high school and hoping that somehow, I would choose the right college…the one God wanted me to choose…it seemed so mysterious, bordering on impossible to really know.  I made it easier on myself by only auditioning at one school…I had been taking french horn lessons with the professor at the Crane School of Music (SUNY Potsdam) during my senoir year, so I just did what seemed obvious, and planned to go to Potsdam State.  I had that tiny thought in the back of my mind, “Am  I missing it?  Should I be looking into different options?”  I went on a missions trip that summer, and one of the other girls on my team was going to Wheaton College.  I came home, two weeks before I was supposed to leave for Potsdam, and told my parents…”I think maybe I should go to Wheaton College instead.”  My mom was a little frustrated, to say the least, and through a series of conversations, quelled the new thought and set my path straight again.  It had been a very spiritual atmosphere on that trip, and I thought that God was answering that tiny thought that had been in the back of my mind with this other option.  Because we all were in a spiritual frame of mind, I thought it just might be God.

I am of the belief at this stage of my life, that it isn’t as hard as I once thought it to be…this hearing from God thing.  As He has opened my eyes to the facet of His sovereignty, I have slowly been able to relax, and trust that He is leading me.  The Scripture that says…”The steps of a righteous man are ordered by the Lord, and He delights in his way.  Thought he fall, he will not be cast down, for the Lord upholds him with His hand.”( Ps 37:23,24) has taken on new meaning for me.  I used to think, that if I was righteous…doing everything just right, that He would speak to me and order my every move whenever I had a question.  Now, I see that I am righteous, all the time, because of the work of the cross, so this verse is always about me.  And, because I am righteous,  the steps I take are indeed ordered by God and part of His plan.  With my old way of thinking, if the path I chose led me into nasty things, I would automatically assume that I had missed His leading.  Now, I look at that second part of that Scripture and realize that sometimes the steps He has me take will cause me to fall, but not to fret.  The path NEVER leads me outside of His hand.  That is my peace.  The pressure is off.  As long as I am surrendered to my Daddy, and not willfully choosing my own way…doing my best to submit my plans to Him, I have full confidence that I am in the middle of His will for me.  My steps are ordered by a sovereign God, and if I am headed for destruction, He will make a donkey talk if He has to, to stop me in my tracks.

He is the Good Shepherd.  I am His sheep.  He is the Architect of my life, and I know that my steps are part of His master plan.

Kent asked me to share about purity, modesty, etc.  So I threw some thoughts and scriptures down in my trusty green notebook, and Derek helped me to organize it all…here are some snippits from it.

When we truly understand our Father’s love for us, and have a true picture of how He views us, we can walk in complete security and confidence in this life, regardless of our upbringing.  And when that revelation sinks deep into our hearts, it will affect us internally, and then externally.

His love will transform us internally…all of the former devices, so to speak, that have developed over time that try to fill that need for love and acceptance, will melt away by the work of His Spirit as we surrender to Him.  If we “awaken love before it’s time” (Song of Songs 3:5), or let the love for a man become our main focus before it is God’s time, our devotion to Christ gets interrupted.  We must surrender this part of our lives to Him…in that place of surrender is where the Spirit works.  As we believe how loved we are, our love for Christ will produce that hidden beauty of the heart that Peter speaks of in I Peter 3:3,4.

“And let not your adornment be merely external-braiding of the hair, and wearing gold jewelry and putting on dresses; but let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is precious in the sight of God.”

Knowing His grace and love will change us externally…Our culture has conditioned us from childhood to focus on beauty and romance.  Come on, think about it…have you ever seen an ugly or overweight Disney princess?  And everyone of those tiny-waisted, long-legged girls “find their prince” and live happily ever after.  It is everywhere we look…” if you look like this, you will get a guy like this, and you will be happy.”  Derek and I have very intentionally warned our three girls of this trap.  We want them to be secure because of who they are in Christ, not because they have a pretty face or the right clothes.  SO, if we should not imitate our culture which worships beauty and romance, how do we dress?  Like women in bible times?  Is it time to bust out the drapery and face cloths?  No, but the word says modesty is becoming to a woman of faith.

As we decide what to wear, we should be aware of two things.  First, avoid vanity.  The reference to braided hair and gold jewelry speaks in Bible times of those in royalty, or those in harlotry.   Royalty dressed this way to be vain…to flaunt their wealth and position.  This is obviously a sinful attitude.

Second, the reason for the harlot to dress this way was to allure men.  We as women of faith should never desire to cause our brothers (or unbelieving men for that matter) to stumble over our appearance.  Yet, this is an extremely common way of living for women.  “What can I do to get that second look?”   We need to ask the Lord to help cleanse us of  the contamination of our culture, and to truly desire to please Him first.  And that will cause us to  be the most beautiful women on the planet.

I saw this quote on a sister’s myspace, and I thought it was the perfect summary.

“A woman’s heart should be so lost in God, that a man needs to seek God to find her.”