Three things you can easily accomplish while blow drying your hair…

imageApparently when God made me, He anointed me with a little extra oil because it shows up in my hair…every day. And not just a little oil. You could run a small slip and slide down my scalp by the end of the day. And I know it’s not the healthiest option for my hair, but I have to wash and blow dry it EVERY morning.

I figure I may as well make good use of the time. So I’ve devised a few ways of making the morning blow-dry a bit more interesting.

1.  I’ve taken up oil pulling. When I first heard of oil pulling I thought they had to be talking about a new method of refinishing furniture. Bit that’s not it at all. I you Google oil pulling there is an infinite amount of information, but supposedly small miracles will happen in my mouth and body when I swish coconut oil for 20 minutes. And what better time to do it than while held captive to the blow-dryer.

2. I dry my hair in sections with around brush. It takes a while, but it cuts down time with the flat iron, so it’s worth it. For each section I dry, I use that time to pray for a different person. Different people every day: friends, family, leaders, clients from work, basically whoever God puts on my heart. By the time I’m done I’ve prayed for at least 4 people.

3.  I meditate on scripture. As I’m praying I keep in mind the verse of the day from my Bible app. I think and pray about what it might mean to them and what it means to me. I also think about how I might put His Word into action throughout my day.

So there you have it. Three things that make my blow-dry time productive and way more enjoyable! Try one, two, or all three of them next time you dry your hair.
Love, hugs, and happy hair drying to all!

Child-of-God self…

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The Life-Light was the real thing: Every person entering Life he brings into Light. He was in the world, the world was there through him, and yet the world didn’t even notice. He came to his own people, but they didn’t want him. But whoever did want him, who believed he was who he claimed and would do what he said, He made to be their true selves, their child-of-God selves. These are the God-begotten, not blood-begotten, not flesh-begotten, not sex-begotten. (John 1:9-13 MSG)

Not blood begotten. Not flesh begotten. Not sex begotten. But God-begotten. I love how Eugene Peterson translates this passage.

There are days when I feel anything but God-begotten. There are also times when I wonder if my children might be alien begotten or begotten in the wild animal kingdom and somehow transplanted into my life. They can burp loud enough to rattle the walls and suddenly don deaf ears when I ask them to do something, but regardless of their behavior, I know they are begotten of Kevin and myself, and I love them dearly.

Maybe that’s why I love John 1:9-13. Even when I imagine God saying, “seriously, that cannot be my child”, I know all He really cares about is that I choose Him. That I had at least one moment of God given lucid awareness where I said, “yep Jesus, I choose you to be my King, my answer, my grace, and I want to follow you.”

And because I want Him. He makes me into my true self. The self He designed me to be. Not the fleshy mess you see in front of you, rather a self completely cleansed and perfected by the blood of Jesus. My “child of God” self. He has made me more than I can be on my own and less I of a mess than I actually am. He sees me. All of me. Yet the lens is shifted by the reflection of the cross so that all is made new. Brokenness is now blessing, love casts out fear, and I am God-begotten. Born again out of the flesh and into new life.

So what does this mean? I don’t have to walk in shame and neither do you. If you want Him – If you choose Him – You are made over by the power of His blood and no longer your self but your child-of-God self. Moved out of the dark and into the light. Isn’t that glorious!?!?

 

All of me cannot contain all that is Him…

Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart. Psalm 37:4

It’s difficult for me to accept. But it’s there. In front of me. Ripe for the taking. This delight in the Lord.

It’s mine to have. Available. Just pick it up and take it from Him. No need to feel guilty because He has more. There is more and more delight in Him. More than I could ever possibly take or understand. It’s there. Ready.

Unlike things I might take from others, there is no payment needed.

I’m not one who easily accepts gifts. Not because I don’t like them, but because I feel unworthy. If I take this from them, how will I ever repay? It’s wrong unless I can give it back ten-fold. But not with Jesus. A gift ripe for the taking but one that will never be repaid.

How do I quite take possession of that? What does it really look like to hold the fullness of my salvation, of His resurrection, completely in my hands. How can I even begin to accept a gift of this magnitude?

And the desires of my heart. I have wanted so many things. Throughout the years there have been boys, and affections, things that have vied for my time and respect. Things that demand my energy. Yet they pale in comparison to this mercy He gives. The gift that literally never stops giving.

All of Him is fully available to all of me.

Fully available, overabundant love and blessing on my life…right here, right now.

I take His delight. He gives me more. The desires of my heart…Lord let me not cease to linger with you. This is my hearts desire.

I pick up delight, you pick up where my humanity fails. You are what makes me alive.

Crushing…

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As the file cabinet came crashing down in my office yesterday, I wasn’t crushed. At first I tried to hold it up, but then I knew I just needed to get out of the way and let it fall. The weight was just too much. Four large drawers filled to the brim with files. Heavy thick files. My weak arms simply could not bear the weight. And after it fell, I just stood there and cried. Could anything else go wrong today?

My coworkers helped me push the cabinet back up and into place. Everything inside the drawers was fine. It seemed the only damage done was to my ego. All I could do was cry, and then laugh at the craziness of it all.

But as the day went on I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The image was burned into my head. Three drawers of files open. I had shifted too much of the weight. And over it went. How did I not know this would happen?

“But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.” Isaiah 53:5

I barely got my foot out of the way. If I had moved even a split second slower and I would likely be in the hospital with a crushed foot. But I wasn’t. And the contents of those drawers. Files filled with stories of human brokenness. The weight of it all was so symbolic I could not deny that even in this ridiculous display of my own clumsiness Christ made a way to show me His love for us. All of us. Drawers of problems, pain, homelessness, filled to the brim and overflowing. Humanity comes crashing to the ground. The weight of it all is crushing. And yet He moved all of us who choose to allow Him to take our place out of the way while He was crushed, fully crushed, under the weight of it all. That we might be set free. And by His wounds, we are healed.

“We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.” 2 Corinthians 4:8-10 NIV

He became our sin and death that we might have life. My own heavy drawers of sin wiped clean in Him. And I wish He would wipe clean the drawers in my office. The drawers of hurt and pain that seem to much for any human being to bear. But I trust and know that He will. The trials and suffering are only temporary, and I pray He allows me to be a light for others. The weight is crushing. But Jesus is alive.

Pajamas…

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Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up. James 4:10

As I sit here sipping warm milk in my jammies, things couldn’t be better. Sure it’s been a stressful day. I just now got my workout in. The house is a mess and things are in disarray, but none of that matters in this moment. Because right now I am making the choice to sit down in my warm home, on my cozy couch, and relax.

Pajamas. They don’t seem like much. They aren’t going to solve the worlds problems…and neither am I. But tonight, on my heart, are pajamas.

Specifically pajamas the homeless women I work with do without. Even if they had a few extra dollars, they couldn’t buy pajamas, because they have to many other things requiring their precious, often minuscule, income. How often do we put them on without even realizing pajamas are a privilege!

So…I’m looking to start a ministry. Doing what you ask? Collecting pajamas, not for homeless kids, though they desperately need them too, but for homeless women living in shelters. Women who usually arrive with nothing more than the clothes on their backs. Pajamas aren’t going to solve their problems. But pajamas that are prayed over, and handed to a woman in the name of Jesus, just might point her in the right direction…

So I’m trying to figure it out…how to do this whole non profit/ministry thing…and do it the right way. Will you join me in prayer as I choose to believe God is going to go big with this dream He has given me?

It’s simple. It’s pajamas. For women who might have lost everything else that brings them comfort…but just maybe a small love offering might lead her to the hands of the Savior.