Sometimes I get kinda bummed out.
I'm a stay at home mom, which is fabulous, (did I really mean "fabulous"?) but sometimes I get antsy because I would like to be more involved in things. I have a desire to give of myself, to be apart of something. This blog stems from that part of me- the ideas and the desires that I feel are very real, but my world can some days consist only of cleaning butts, wiping noses, and picking up the same toys for the fifteenth time.
Last year while I was still working, we started giving to Missions beyond our regular tithes. I had a little post-it note to keep track, and on it I would record each payment. A mere thirty dollars a month from me but it took care of one missionary family in the field for a month. Last June I quit my job to be a full time mom and I wasn't sure how much wiggle room beyond paying our monthly bills we'd have, but I kept thinking about that missionary family. None of our bills are even under $50, much less $30 a month! Even when we had to tighten our belts a little and maybe I had to do without a little something here or there, I strove to make sure I had that little bit to give to them. It's really not that big of a stretch if you try a little.
At the end of that first year, I pulled out my post-it note and showed my husband and the kids. They weren't impressed with the paper, it was crinkly and had "mom writing" on it. (Oh, hold back your enthusiasm, everyone please!) They looked at it for about two minutes with nothing short of fake half interested amusement. So, I started to tell them the story behind all those entries I'd scribbled down through the year. (enter the "mom-knows-best voice" here) Though I am the one that wrote out the checks, our whole family supported another family just like us. Somewhere in the world this mom and dad not so much unlike us, along with their children, were able to live and reach other people who needed Jesus badly. Our $30 out of each month's wages, an amount that you would easily pay for a new shirt or on a night at the movies or even could easily double or triple in going out to a nice restaurant, instead was entered as a down payment in the Kingdom of God by OUR FAMILY.
I could see my boys' eyes begin to light up as they realized the possibility of what we did together. What did these missionaries accomplish with our support? Did people get saved? Did hungry children get fed? Maybe our missionary family was in a country where Christianity is illegal, and they're handing out Bibles incognito and holding underground church services? (Woo-hoo! Score one for THIS mom for making missionaries sound a bit like James Bond.)
I also explained some "God Economics" to them, that even though we are not physically "in the field" like these missionaries are, because we supported them any blessing they receive will also be ours because we prayed, believed, and supported the cause of Christ through them.
Yeah, I get kinda upset sometimes because I can't do more for people. But there are people who are in the direct position to be helping others, and if the only thing at the moment I can do is to give them some of my resources, it is better than nothing. All the time I get calls from St. Jude Children's Hospital or the American Heart Association, or Cops for Kids or whatever. These may be very valid charities, yes, but I highly doubt they are giving the direct assistance that a missionary in the field can give. In fact, these associations hire full time staff at salaries I will never see and even call centers to make their calls for them, and honestly I'd rather not pay somebody's salary to call me and ask for money. It is our duty as Christians to help the needy and those that need to hear the gospel and until those needs go away, supporting missionaries both monetarily and through my prayers will continue to be my charitable focus.
If you have never considered supporting a missionary, I would most highly recommend it, no matter the amount. Giving through your local church is easy or if you don't have a home church, make sure you do your homework and that the missionary is genuine. Seriously, you won't miss the money and the blessing outweighs any sacrifice to give. When you stop and think about all the dumb stuff we waste our money on (coffee to go, fast food, or that bad haircut a month ago), it might be nice to know that SOMETHING was a good investment.
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Thursday, May 29, 2014
All For This (More of my original fiction)
We first met when she was a little girl.
She came to my house one time with her momma. The family was on hard times, her daddy left them all alone. Who could do that? Leave her pretty young momma with two little ones both under age six? My heart went out to them. I remember her sitting downstairs coloring pictures with some other children. She didn't know it then but I couldn't take my eyes off her. Her clothes were wrinkled, her hair held a damp stale smell of cigarette smoke, but I knew I loved her. She was shy and quiet, and she kept trying to hide her face from the other kids, afraid they'd see the fear and the tears well up in her eyes. I was not easily intimidated and so we became friends.
We got to where we'd talk nearly everyday, sometimes just sit under the pear tree in her backyard and look at the beauty of nature all around us. Everything was perfect until her mom got a job offer in another state and the distance made the relationship fall apart. It was many years until I saw her again. I was at a work Christmas party and she came in the door quickly and sat down near the wall. She didn't want any of my other friends to see her there, didn't think anybody noticed her come in, but I DID. When I entered the room, she looked up at me. I saw the fear, the sadness of a thousand lonely nights melt away when she looked in my eyes. Yes, she remembered ME!
I couldn't stop myself, I blurted out, "I want to be your Forever. I want to hold your hand and be by your side. Please, just say you will!" I extended my hand toward her. A bit forward, yes, but I couldn't take the chance that I'd lose her again.
She smiled at me and nodded. She said she'd always loved me too, but today there just wasn't time. She had to go to work now but she said she'd be back. Next week we'd pick up where we left off.
It was a pretty long week for me. I'm a counselor in a successful practice and that keeps me pretty busy. A lot of people come and go, but I just couldn't seem to stop thinking about her. She was far from perfect, but I'd give everything I had just to spend the rest of our lives together.
Finally the weekend came around again and true to her word, she returned. This time she chose a spot in the middle of a group of our mutual friends from the old days. She hadn't even glanced my way yet until my brother began to speak. She immediately turned her face toward mine. I leaned close and whispered, "Sweetheart, please. Let's not waste anymore time."
She looked into my eyes once again. I could see her love for me like before, but there was something else mixed in there, too. A hurt. A hurt big enough to kill almost every other emotion inside her. Someone so long ago had killed a part of her heart. How could she love again? How could she trust me after what HE had done to her? I wanted her to love me like she used to, to trust that I could take care of her.
She told me she'd been thinking about me all weekend, too. That she just wanted me to scoop her up into my arms and hold her like the old days under that pear tree. She knew my love was like nothing she'd experienced before. But could she TRUST me? Sooner or later I might just take her heart under my heel and grind it into the ground, just like so many others had done... Just like her FATHER. "Call me anytime," I finally said. Maybe some time to think was all she needed to heal.
On and on it went between us for what seemed like months. She never once called. These weekly meetings were my only chance to try to get her to see me for who I AM. How could she let the actions of another person have any bearing on our relationship? Couldn't she see that I would never leave her? That I loved her? Why was she blaming me for what he'd done when all I wanted to do was take her away from those past pains so we could just hang out together like the old days?
Finally I did receive a call from her. Her mother had passed away. She didn't know who else to turn to, so she called me. Others may get offended at this, but I jumped at the chance and drove into town to meet her right where she was. "My darling, I hate to see you in pain like this. Please, let me take care of you. I love you. Just say yes!" Time was running out, she needed to make a decision. I wrapped her in my arms and held her as she started to cry.
We sat like this for a few minutes, when suddenly her crying slowed and she looked up at me. "Yes, I love you", she whispered. My heart soared! After all these years, she finally said yes!
This is it. This is the day that makes it all worthwhile for me. The pain of separation that I felt from my own father, the hurt of the scorn of others, and even when my friends deserted me in my darkest hours. The joy of this moment makes all others fade away. It was worth it to get her back. The cross, the blood, the pain. All for this.
She came to my house one time with her momma. The family was on hard times, her daddy left them all alone. Who could do that? Leave her pretty young momma with two little ones both under age six? My heart went out to them. I remember her sitting downstairs coloring pictures with some other children. She didn't know it then but I couldn't take my eyes off her. Her clothes were wrinkled, her hair held a damp stale smell of cigarette smoke, but I knew I loved her. She was shy and quiet, and she kept trying to hide her face from the other kids, afraid they'd see the fear and the tears well up in her eyes. I was not easily intimidated and so we became friends.
We got to where we'd talk nearly everyday, sometimes just sit under the pear tree in her backyard and look at the beauty of nature all around us. Everything was perfect until her mom got a job offer in another state and the distance made the relationship fall apart. It was many years until I saw her again. I was at a work Christmas party and she came in the door quickly and sat down near the wall. She didn't want any of my other friends to see her there, didn't think anybody noticed her come in, but I DID. When I entered the room, she looked up at me. I saw the fear, the sadness of a thousand lonely nights melt away when she looked in my eyes. Yes, she remembered ME!
I couldn't stop myself, I blurted out, "I want to be your Forever. I want to hold your hand and be by your side. Please, just say you will!" I extended my hand toward her. A bit forward, yes, but I couldn't take the chance that I'd lose her again.
She smiled at me and nodded. She said she'd always loved me too, but today there just wasn't time. She had to go to work now but she said she'd be back. Next week we'd pick up where we left off.
It was a pretty long week for me. I'm a counselor in a successful practice and that keeps me pretty busy. A lot of people come and go, but I just couldn't seem to stop thinking about her. She was far from perfect, but I'd give everything I had just to spend the rest of our lives together.
Finally the weekend came around again and true to her word, she returned. This time she chose a spot in the middle of a group of our mutual friends from the old days. She hadn't even glanced my way yet until my brother began to speak. She immediately turned her face toward mine. I leaned close and whispered, "Sweetheart, please. Let's not waste anymore time."
She looked into my eyes once again. I could see her love for me like before, but there was something else mixed in there, too. A hurt. A hurt big enough to kill almost every other emotion inside her. Someone so long ago had killed a part of her heart. How could she love again? How could she trust me after what HE had done to her? I wanted her to love me like she used to, to trust that I could take care of her.
She told me she'd been thinking about me all weekend, too. That she just wanted me to scoop her up into my arms and hold her like the old days under that pear tree. She knew my love was like nothing she'd experienced before. But could she TRUST me? Sooner or later I might just take her heart under my heel and grind it into the ground, just like so many others had done... Just like her FATHER. "Call me anytime," I finally said. Maybe some time to think was all she needed to heal.
On and on it went between us for what seemed like months. She never once called. These weekly meetings were my only chance to try to get her to see me for who I AM. How could she let the actions of another person have any bearing on our relationship? Couldn't she see that I would never leave her? That I loved her? Why was she blaming me for what he'd done when all I wanted to do was take her away from those past pains so we could just hang out together like the old days?
Finally I did receive a call from her. Her mother had passed away. She didn't know who else to turn to, so she called me. Others may get offended at this, but I jumped at the chance and drove into town to meet her right where she was. "My darling, I hate to see you in pain like this. Please, let me take care of you. I love you. Just say yes!" Time was running out, she needed to make a decision. I wrapped her in my arms and held her as she started to cry.
We sat like this for a few minutes, when suddenly her crying slowed and she looked up at me. "Yes, I love you", she whispered. My heart soared! After all these years, she finally said yes!
This is it. This is the day that makes it all worthwhile for me. The pain of separation that I felt from my own father, the hurt of the scorn of others, and even when my friends deserted me in my darkest hours. The joy of this moment makes all others fade away. It was worth it to get her back. The cross, the blood, the pain. All for this.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
Where was My JOY today?
"...Do not be grieved, for the joy of the LORD is your strength." Nehemiah 8:10
This isn't just a bible verse, this is my life. Eight words, only one of which is even over four letters long. Simple at first, but you know me by now, there's just a few paragraphs more here to read before I'll let you go.
How long have you known me? Maybe a few years, or maybe none at all. When I was in high school I was diagnosed with depression. It had a hold on me for almost eight years. Eight years down the drain! Now fast forward to the awesomeness: for nearly seven years now I have been completely free. No drugs, no doctors, not even a 12 step program. Just freedom.
Every time I read this verse it always brings me back to that dark time in my life- how lost I was. But in my darkest moment of feeling like I had nothing to hold on to, I found the only thing that can keep me going. When He removed the depression so completely from my life it left a large void- a void that was intricately framed to the shape of His supernatural Joy. I have actually had people comment that I am always positive (Heh- not really true, I can be plenty negative at times, but ok!), that my smile is contagious, that I literally light up a room when I enter it. I am not trying to toot my own horn here- this is not of me! All glory is to God- this is me tooting a horn for HIM! When people say these things to me I can't help but smile- if only they knew the other "old" me!!
I still have bad days. Life is still handing me rotten lemons and it's still as much of a struggle to win out. The difference is I AM winning out.
The other day when the baby got sick was SO rough- he absolutely refused to nap and then his overtired little self just would NOT give in when it was time for bed. I was so tired, I wore the stress on my shoulders and then could feel the sadness slowly start creeping in. Oh I hate tired despair! When I finally got my little dear to get some rest, I felt like there was nothing left of me, I was so wiped out. I plopped down in my chair and it wasn't long til I heard that still small voice whisper softly...
"Where was My JOY today?"
It was not condemnation, but rather concern tempered with a smile. He was reminding me of this verse. It serves as something of an inside story between God and me- a reminder of where I've been. Now, because I hold so much of His joy, He was actually calling ME Joy. Like a good friend that misses you asking, "Where was my buddy today?" (Love!)
That's the great thing about God. He never talks down to us, never belittles us. He comes right to your level and speaks in a way that you need to hear the most. He knew just what to say to help me pick my sorry little butt up off the pavement and keep going.
The Joy of the Lord actually IS my strength. It is a tangible thing with me, His Light shining through draws people like moths to a flame. I was thinking tonight about it and I realized that he was also giving me some insight here into my Purpose, how he plans to use me. I am a vessel filled to the brim with His Joy- how awesome is that? Do you have something about you that God is using or plans to use? If you do not yet know, why not ask him to show you!
This isn't just a bible verse, this is my life. Eight words, only one of which is even over four letters long. Simple at first, but you know me by now, there's just a few paragraphs more here to read before I'll let you go.
How long have you known me? Maybe a few years, or maybe none at all. When I was in high school I was diagnosed with depression. It had a hold on me for almost eight years. Eight years down the drain! Now fast forward to the awesomeness: for nearly seven years now I have been completely free. No drugs, no doctors, not even a 12 step program. Just freedom.
Every time I read this verse it always brings me back to that dark time in my life- how lost I was. But in my darkest moment of feeling like I had nothing to hold on to, I found the only thing that can keep me going. When He removed the depression so completely from my life it left a large void- a void that was intricately framed to the shape of His supernatural Joy. I have actually had people comment that I am always positive (Heh- not really true, I can be plenty negative at times, but ok!), that my smile is contagious, that I literally light up a room when I enter it. I am not trying to toot my own horn here- this is not of me! All glory is to God- this is me tooting a horn for HIM! When people say these things to me I can't help but smile- if only they knew the other "old" me!!
I still have bad days. Life is still handing me rotten lemons and it's still as much of a struggle to win out. The difference is I AM winning out.
The other day when the baby got sick was SO rough- he absolutely refused to nap and then his overtired little self just would NOT give in when it was time for bed. I was so tired, I wore the stress on my shoulders and then could feel the sadness slowly start creeping in. Oh I hate tired despair! When I finally got my little dear to get some rest, I felt like there was nothing left of me, I was so wiped out. I plopped down in my chair and it wasn't long til I heard that still small voice whisper softly...
"Where was My JOY today?"
It was not condemnation, but rather concern tempered with a smile. He was reminding me of this verse. It serves as something of an inside story between God and me- a reminder of where I've been. Now, because I hold so much of His joy, He was actually calling ME Joy. Like a good friend that misses you asking, "Where was my buddy today?" (Love!)
That's the great thing about God. He never talks down to us, never belittles us. He comes right to your level and speaks in a way that you need to hear the most. He knew just what to say to help me pick my sorry little butt up off the pavement and keep going.
The Joy of the Lord actually IS my strength. It is a tangible thing with me, His Light shining through draws people like moths to a flame. I was thinking tonight about it and I realized that he was also giving me some insight here into my Purpose, how he plans to use me. I am a vessel filled to the brim with His Joy- how awesome is that? Do you have something about you that God is using or plans to use? If you do not yet know, why not ask him to show you!
Sunday, May 4, 2014
In Those Days
(My brand of fictional writing.)
The bright bright light shining through the kitchen window.
It is still early. The cool hangs on in the air, greets my bare toes on the floor as I make my morning tea. I grab the sugar and the rays coming through the kitchen window touch my skin and warm it against the chill. Even though there's an amazing day ahead of me, a few quiet moments are all I need to prepare for it.
This feeling, this routine. It stirs something deep within. It reminds me of a long forgotten time when I was so breakable. Fragile skin like paper that warmed in the lines of sunlight streaming through that window in our old house. That sun- I thought it was so powerful in those days. Our lazy beagle would wait for me in the dining room, his own little patch of sunlight near my chair.
Oh those days! Those early morning teas meant the world to me- moments before the kids would wake and like a gong jump start me into a new day full of busyness. The memories are fading, they feel almost dreamlike now, was it really fifty years ago? I smile as I let the light play over my fingers. Fifty years?
No, actually that's not quite right. It's been much longer than that. It reminds me of something we used to say in those days- "Time flies when you're having fun". Yes, it certainly has.
A sound behind me jolts me right back into the present- a door.
"Ready to go?"
I turn around when I hear that familiar voice. My face turns upward into a smile as I see my darling husband. "Of course," I answer.
He extends his hand. I reach it with mine and feel him give it a squeeze. He smiles at me and his eyes turn soft. Those same puppy dog dark eyes that I fell in love with when we were, well, remember? Yes. The memory almost makes me laugh.
We thought we were in love then. We didn't even know what love was.
We turn and walk out the door together. Not because we have to, but because today we think it might be fun to do things the old fashioned way.
My untouched cup of tea is still sitting on the kitchen table. It makes HIM laugh but I do still enjoy going through these old motions of everyday activities- like that cup of tea- even though I no longer need such things. As my tea waits for no one its heat escapes in beautiful wisps and curls of steam, and my love and I greet the true source of that Light that was blazing through my window- It's just another day in Paradise.
Valerie Riedman
The bright bright light shining through the kitchen window.
It is still early. The cool hangs on in the air, greets my bare toes on the floor as I make my morning tea. I grab the sugar and the rays coming through the kitchen window touch my skin and warm it against the chill. Even though there's an amazing day ahead of me, a few quiet moments are all I need to prepare for it.
This feeling, this routine. It stirs something deep within. It reminds me of a long forgotten time when I was so breakable. Fragile skin like paper that warmed in the lines of sunlight streaming through that window in our old house. That sun- I thought it was so powerful in those days. Our lazy beagle would wait for me in the dining room, his own little patch of sunlight near my chair.
Oh those days! Those early morning teas meant the world to me- moments before the kids would wake and like a gong jump start me into a new day full of busyness. The memories are fading, they feel almost dreamlike now, was it really fifty years ago? I smile as I let the light play over my fingers. Fifty years?
No, actually that's not quite right. It's been much longer than that. It reminds me of something we used to say in those days- "Time flies when you're having fun". Yes, it certainly has.
A sound behind me jolts me right back into the present- a door.
"Ready to go?"
I turn around when I hear that familiar voice. My face turns upward into a smile as I see my darling husband. "Of course," I answer.
He extends his hand. I reach it with mine and feel him give it a squeeze. He smiles at me and his eyes turn soft. Those same puppy dog dark eyes that I fell in love with when we were, well, remember? Yes. The memory almost makes me laugh.
We thought we were in love then. We didn't even know what love was.
We turn and walk out the door together. Not because we have to, but because today we think it might be fun to do things the old fashioned way.
My untouched cup of tea is still sitting on the kitchen table. It makes HIM laugh but I do still enjoy going through these old motions of everyday activities- like that cup of tea- even though I no longer need such things. As my tea waits for no one its heat escapes in beautiful wisps and curls of steam, and my love and I greet the true source of that Light that was blazing through my window- It's just another day in Paradise.
Valerie Riedman
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