At all times...

At 12:35, what in the world am I doing 1) awake and 2) writing a blog of all things?

1) I have no idea because I'm so tired my eyes feel like they have silly putty in them and
2) because I wanna.

I was just reading another blog by a lady whose writings are all about her family life and the loss of an unborn child (at least I'm pretty sure she died in utero... haven't gotten that far yet). I was reading along for a long time (another odd thing to be doing after midnight) before I realized that this lady is the wife of one of the guys in the Christian group Selah, which I love.

Anyway, all of that is quite beside the point, since the main gist of what's on my mind concerns more the spirit in which her posts were written. They were full of such faith and strength and even humor... and they inspired me so, especially given the mood I've been in tonight and the past few days.

To sum it up in very short order... I'm discouraged. Admitting such a thing makes me sick since, as a good friend once advised me, "Don't get discouraged... that's exactly what Satan wants you to do." I know, I know... and that's what makes me sick.

I feel a whole lot like the person who says, "I really want to be healthy, but when I want another cookie, I just can't stop myself." (p.s., I've been that person before, too, actually). So many times (I'm talking every single day... especially lately), I actually have it go through my mind all about the kind of Christian I'd like to be... I wish I had a better prayer life... I wish I could feel God's presence all the time... I wish I could just say "God" and He would be right there comforting me in every circumstance. And again... I know, I know...

David and I had gotten totally out of the habit of watching television (except Veggietales and Baby Einstein...), and we were both loving it. Likewise, we'd gotten totally out of the habit of listening to anything on the radio other than Christian/gospel or at least something quieter and more reflective/less distracting. Well, I've watched David Letterman and Craig Ferguson for the past 2 or 3 nights... and I fell out of my good radio habits a while back as well... and oh my gosh, can I ever tell a difference. I was sitting here reading that blog I was talking about earlier and had Craig Ferguson on in the background... that's sorda when it hit me...

I am such a hypocrite. I am a Pharisee's Pharisee.

Here I was sitting here reading all of these wonderfully uplifting and God-glorifying things with a bunch of garbage just rattling on in the background. And I would actually look up and laugh at things from time to time. What a telling scenario. I put on a nice front and I go to church practically every time the doors are open, but the dull roar of the world is ever present in the background of my life.

Multiple times I find myself completely disgusted over something that I see going on around me, but I still allow myself to be a part of it every single day.

I'm so glad that I serve (in my own very weak way) a God who sees the desires of my heart... because in my heart of hearts, what I want most is to be found serving Him at all times... not just when it's convenient or easy or popular or whatever. It's so easy for me to turn to God when I'm hurting; I want it to become so easy for me to turn to Him every day. It's wonderful to be able to go to Him in times of need, but I want Him to help me prioritize a bit better so I'll remember that thanking Him during the good times is just as wonderful and important.

This is a rambling thing that I've written... but it's been more for me than for anybody else, so take it for what it is.

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a poem I just wrote + some thoughts

I raise you, my Lord,
my Salvation, my Rock,
I raise you, the One who was slain.
It was my sin, those nails,
My sin, those scars,
My sin, that caused you such pain.

I raise you, my Lord,
my Redeemer, my Prince,
I raise you, oh, Conqueror of grave.
It was my soul you loved,
my soul, you died,
it was my soul that you came to save.

I raise you, my Lord,
on the wings of my prayer.
I raise you, oh, my Mighty Tower.
For the height and the breadth,
extents I can't understand,
The width and the depth of Love's power.

I raise you, my Lord,
in my weakest of ways,
I raise you in the midst of my sin.
The petition of my heart,
the plea of my soul,
O Lord, let me raise you again.


It's been a good day and I'm thankful.

I wonder and, all too often, worry about what lies ahead for me and my family. I spend far too much time considering the "what ifs" and working myself into a panic over things that don't even exist in the here and now. But sometimes, just sometimes, when I can get even an inkling of the closeness I should always have with my Lord, He gives me the sweetest clarity of mind and the sweetest overflowing of that peace that He placed in my soul... and I'm able, if only for a moment, to really feel the control that He has over everything.

If I knew there was a mansion next door with a swimming pool and big fluffy feather beds and some kind of nice spa bathtub with warm towels all the time... and cheesecake and pizza... and every other luxury you can imagine... and this mansion was open for me to use 24/7 anytime I felt like it... why wouldn't I just move in? There's a higher plane of living. And it's just there for the taking and there are 10,000 charms there... things better than pizza and spa bathtubs. How foolish of me that I should refuse to move into that mansion!

The length of my life here should be of no concern to me, only how I live for whatever length of time God grants me. I have a great, wonderful, powerful, awesome, enormous God who is
worthy of more praise than my mortal body is capable of giving Him. But I should fill up every nano-second of every day with willingness to do whatever it is that would glorify Him most and look forward to the day when He's going to make me like Jesus, so I can finally FINALLY give Him the praise He's worthy of FOR THE REST OF ETERNITY!

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