Monday, January 23, 2017

Does Love Trump Hate Toward Trump?

Woman tweets for someone to be "kind enough" to assassinate Trump.

Kentucky woman tweets for someone to be "kind enough" to assassinate Trump.

**Edited: In the name of transparency, the edits are in gray text.**

So, I just read the above about 10 minutes ago. What you are about to read is raw footage, right here, friends. **I have added two links on this case for anyone who doesn't love The Blaze. Just to verify the information isn't "fake" and all, since that's a thing, too.**

I imagine this young lady has learned her lesson and I hate that she lost her job over a social media rant, but this is not ok. This is a reflection of the heart.
These "death wishes" (I do not think it is a credible threat) by people who claim that "love trumps hate" and that we should #bekind is as hypocritical as it gets. 

I have heard so many people who tout "love" say, "I wish he'd just drop dead already." I heard this about our former President as well, but the overwhelming hypocrisy here is the love/hate rhetoric. 

As a Christian who believes in a real place called Hell, I do not rejoice EVER when a person dies without Jesus. I have NEVER wished death on anyone-not those that have left me with scars, not the worst terrorist, or abuser. (No, I did not even celebrate the death of Bin Laden.)

To hate to the point of wishing another person to die can, in no way, be loving or kind. 

Truly, this isn't specifically about Trump. This is about checking our own hearts- mine included- in what we wish or pray for others.

“Have I any pleasure in the death of the wicked, declares the Lord God, and not rather that he should turn from his way and live?”
Ezekiel 18:23 ESV

 If you truly believe someone is wicked, wouldn't you hope for his or her heart to change? Rather than wish her to die in her wicked state? Where is the love in that? 

Wednesday, October 26, 2016

My Secret Identity

Do y'all (over the age of...mmm...thirty-eight or so) remember that show? My Secret Identity? I'm pretty sure it was too cheesy for even Netflix to pick up.

Moving on....

The past couple of weeks (or months, I don't really know) I've been described as a few things, sometimes by other people, sometimes it's the voice in my head.
I've read it in blogs, heard it on the news shows,
that if I believe one way, I must be _____.

We've all got labels, wanted and not.
There are titles we wear proudly, and others we just wear.
Cause they might be true.
Some of them we wear because we just can't seem to shake 'em.

They can be adjectives to describe our God-given personality,
the darkest parts of us, or the stuff in-between.
You know: the good, the bad, the ugly.

If we hear them long enough,
they could become the totality of who we believe we are.
The sum of us.

Wife
Mom
Homeschool Mom
Type A (winking at my friend*)
Fat
Goodie Two Shoes
Crazy
Spaz
Organized
Confident
Super conservative
Fake
Opinionated
Foul
Ridiculous
Emotional
Christian
Not a Christian (It's an election year)
Loud
Bad A** (actually, I said that one. Ha!)
Sinner (Nobody can out-sin me.)
Racist
Pretty
Homophobic
Medicated
Evangelical
Evangelical Conservative
Tough
Teacher
Manic
Contradictory (If nothing else, this.)
Vain
Bigot
Depressed
Too much
Too little
Legit
Awesome
Over the top
High strung
A hot mess

Oh, there's more. No doubt.

Some of these are spot on.
The rest have probably been spot-on at one point or another.

Of all those labels and adjectives, there's the one that I have the most difficulty remembering:

I am free.

Free.

If you are reading this, and you call Jesus "Lord",
you are free.
You are free from the box that someone wants you to fit in.
You are free from the past.

Easy to say.

I am free from condemnation.
By God's grace that can only be described as scandalous,
I am free from my sin.
I am free from others' sins against me.
I am free of labels.
I am free to change my mind.
I am free to repent, to change direction.
I am free to serve.
I am free to love.
I am free to give.

So are you. We are free.

We are free to belong to the One who made us and
loves me even though He knew we would reject Him.

We are free. We are free because Jesus of Nazareth set us free.

Yes. It's cheesy.
But, the pic is mine so no one will get mad at me.

Free indeed.

You don't even have to keep it a secret.
*Smile*

Thursday, November 12, 2015

The F Word.

Photo Cred: My Spouse. 
While watching a movie, I heard a word that caused me to cringe and look at my girls. You know. I wanted to see if they'd heard the word.
They did.
And they know how I feel about it.

"What did he say?", I asked.
"Nothing.", the Little Sister responded.
"What did he say?"
"The F word."
"What was it? Why won't you say it?" I was grinning. I knew she wouldn't say it.
She struggles with it a little bit.
If I'm honest, I do, too. I struggle with the thought of it paralyzing my girls.
But, we pray against it.

The quote?
"Fear will be your enemy."
-Pabble in Disney's Frozen.

The F word: Fear.
Fear, specifically being frozen by it,  is a major theme of that movie.

I don't know if "fear will be your enemy" but it is certainly of your enemy.
Fear is also a major theme of many of our lives.
I see too many people living in fear and they don't even know it.

Honestly, we don't have to look far to find something to fear:

Heights
The ocean
Spiders
Dogs
Snakes
Driving in the rain
Driving on the interstate
Flying

Then there are those social fears, the ones on another level:

Change
Isolation
Missing out
Our kids getting hurt
Not measuring up
What other people think
Not being enough
Embarrassment
Our kids failing
Our kids hating us

I'm pretty sure I have a fear of my kids having a fear.
Is there a name for that? I want to feel justified in this one, though?
Is that allowed?

Here's why I'm justified:
Fear is contagious.
Parents, we can pass that junk right on to our kids.
We have to get that.
We can pass our fear of snakes on to our kids.
We can pass our fear of dogs on to our kids.
We can pass fear of embarrassment on to our kids.

If we aren't guarding against it, we can leave an eye color, a few quirks, and a heritage of fear.

Listen. For a while, I had this thing about horses. I could reason through it, it hadn't reached the irrational point, but I was so super nervous around horses. I just knew I was going to be kicked. I'd not had an episode that I know of or anything like that. I just had this fear I was going to get kicked square in the ribs by a horse. So, ya know what I did? I put my girls in horse lessons. I had to sit in the car for the grooming & care part of the lesson, because Meghan would get right up in a horse's private business. Wrecked my nerves. I couldn't be in the barn with my child nose to business-end of that 1500 pound animal. I had to sit in the car. One time, I happened to be in the barn while a horse was on the cross-ties and reared back and came down full-force on Maddy's 7 year-old foot, then kicked her instructor in the head. No joke.
After knowing Maddy and teacher were okay, I told them,
"I have to go now or I'm going to snatch my kids out of here and never come back."
And, for whatever reason, that was the end of it.
Victory in Jesus.
I've since been nose to business-end of a horse and been just fine-- after a shower. Because gross. We've gone on many rides as a family and I'm totally good. Win.

<<Side story that is so true and indicative of my exponential crazy level: When my girls were little, I wouldn't let them watch Veggie Tales: Where's God When I'm Scared?. I swear to Cher. They had never been afraid of the dark?! I didn't want them to get it in their heads that was even a thing! End of crazy-but-true story.>>

That being said, where other people would never have a second thought about their kids on a horse, I've never had a second thought about my kids and the water. I die a little when I see "big kids"- whatever that even means- wearing flotation devices in the pool. Or when I hear people talk to a child under 36 inches about not going to the "deep end". Good grief! At that size, it's all the deep end! I don't think a thing about my girls on the paddle boards or scuba diving or snorkeling. Meghan got to see her first shark on her check out dive when she finished her scuba certification! It was the coolest!

This week, we made a major decision to allow Meghan to come back to homeschooling after beginning the year at a local (wonderful) Christian high school. She had enough school to know that home's cool. Heh. She was succeeding in all the ways, academically and otherwise. She lettered in Varsity Swim. Still, she was able to recognize how efficient she could be at home, leaving her free to pursue her interests. Once she made the final decision, she was steadfast. She owned it, telling her little friends, some of her teachers and administration. She never wavered. Fearless. And, I don't fear for her future. God's got her back more than I do. And His is the power in her. She's gonna be alright. She's gonna be more than alright. Victorious.


If fear is allowed to grow, we could live defeated.
Paralyzed.
Frozen.

We would still be loved and cherished.

Loved and cherished and defeated.
Loved and cherished and paralyzed.
Loved and cherished and frozen.

Let's not do that.

I'm going for 
loved and cherished and victorious.



Another Spouse photo.



**This is an updated post.**