Handprint of God on the small of my back.

Ebenezer

2011-12-19T13:04:00.000-06:00

At Christmastime, the name “Ebenezer” is a familiar one. Most associate the name with Ebenezer Scrooge, the villain turned protagonist in Dicken’s “A Christmas Carol.” Few, however, know the origins of that name, nor have they truly connected its meaning to Christmas. In the seventh chapter of 1 Samuel in the Bible, we find that once again, the Isrealites had turned away from their God to worship false idols. Samuel had called the people to turn back to the Lord, and as they were worshipping God, the Philistines, a large, powerful enemy of Isreal’s, drew upon them to attack. But the Lord was with his people, and granted the Isrealites a victory, against all military odds, over the Philistines. Samuel raised a stone as a monument and named it “Ebenezer,” saying “even through this, the Lord has helped us.” It is easy to see how this name, then, is perfect for Scrooge. When given the chance to look back on his life, he is reminded of all that he has been brought through. God’s people are most often called to do two things: repent and remember. Turn back to God, and remember everything he has already done for you.

This year has been our Ebenezer.

Many of you already know the extent of our trials from this year. Unemployment, financial hardship, and the deaths of some dear friends have all been very hard battles in the recent months. Yet against all odds, we have been carried through safely. We can look back upon this year and see the Lord’s hand in our marriage, our home, our families, and through the love poured upon us by our church. We have wanted for nothing. We have been reminded throughout the year of His unfailing love and abundant blessings. Two delightful children, a safe home, and a community of family and friends are among the greatest gifts. But the promise that we have not been forgotten or forsaken has been the greatest of all.

Hence, Christmas. A time when we remember that we have not been forgotten or forsaken. A time to be reminded that He came back for us. We weren’t left to our own helplessness. He came back to make all things new. Or, as one of our favorite books says, “to make all of the sad things untrue.” Yes, there is still sadness and brokenness, for now at least. That’s why we raise Ebenezers: to look back and say “hither by thy help I’ve come.” We are so grateful for each of you for walking through the greatest of joys and the deepest of sorrows with us this year. So, celebrate with us the coming of our Lord, who came as a baby- as one of us- to be the ultimate monument saying “I’m here with you. I won’t forget you. I will not leave you. See how far I’ve brought you? Behold, I’m making all things new.”

Most Joyfully,

Andrew, Lindsey, Isaiah, & Evie Murphy

Unlovely

2011-11-04T23:58:00.000-05:00

I laid on the bed, crying over the stain on a shirt.

I had just heaped every feeling of inadequacy on the head of my husband.
I blamed him for my discontent.
I brought up every sin he had committed against me in the past year.
I hurled all of my pain at him, and made it his fault.
I felt unlovely, inside and out. I blamed him for my ugliness.

So I cried. Folding laundry, I discovered the damaged garment, and cried bitterly over the unloveliness that pervaded my life. My heart. My body. My home.

He laid down next to me, trying to comfort me. I only heaped more blame on him.

Slamming the door behind me, I retreated to a bath. Time to sit and think. More like marinating in my ingratitude and spitefulness.

A gentle knock on the door. I covered myself in shame.

With a simple, "I love you," he sat down beside me, and began to wash my hair.

As he poured the warm water over my head and shoulders, working his fingers through my hair, I could feel the hurt and blame wash away.

He said nothing, just kept at his work, washing away the dirt and the bitterness.
He took all of my words, all of my blame, all of my bitterness, and returned them with affection.
With each touch, a feeling of gratitude, forgiveness, and repentance filled me.

His love made me lovely once more.

It is I.

2011-10-21T17:06:00.003-05:00

One of my favorite moments in Christian literature comes from a personal story of St. Augustine of Hippo. Prior to his conversion, Augustine had led a life of rebellion and promiscuity. There was one mistress in particular that he greatly struggled in escaping. Despite his draw towards Christ, giving her up proved the greatest challenge of his conversion. Until one day. (Isn’t that single word the essence of the Gospel? Until.) One day he passed his former love on the street. She called to him. He kept walking. She called again, “Augustine, it I!” Turning, he replied, “But it is not I.”

Jesus makes all things new. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”

I struggle with this, daily. Despite the redemption I’ve seen in my circumstances, my family, or the world at large, I doubt. I can see the big picture sometimes more clearly than I can see recreation applied to my own heart.

The other night, we had new friends over for dessert. Every word that came out of mouth was critical, correcting, or harsh. I could hear myself screaming inside, “What are you doing? This isn’t you!” I was so downcast later by my failure for the evening. I was an old creation.

I think this is why we dread seeing past friends, and even family. We fear being remembered for what we were, not seen as who we are. There are more people than I care to admit that I wish I could whisper, “I’m so sorry. That’s not me anymore.” And for them to actually believe it. And for it to actually be true. There are so many to whom I want to say, “it is not I.”

But this is the Gospel. We are daily being recreated. We are daily being made new. I cling to this in my greatest moments of weakness and failure. He promises to make me beautiful. With each refining fire, my oldness is being burnt away by the passion of his love, and the goodness of his character. And one day, I will be new.

We’ve been talking a great deal about the new heavens and the new earth: when Christ returns, and everything is restored. No going back. No oldness creeping back in. No decay, nor danger, nor demise. One day, I’ll be naked and unashamed. Vulnerable without fear. I’ll be more myself than I’ve ever been.

And then, when I meet you in that glorious city, I’ll introduce myself, and the words, “It is I,” will be completely true.

Creating in Chaos

2011-09-26T14:01:00.000-05:00

Imagine standing on a hill and looking behind you at the path by which you've come. The scene you see is desolate, and you can clearly see now the treacherous mines you came so near to stepping on. This is how I would describe the past year for me and my husband.

This year has been marked by loss, death, unemployment, and struggle. We feel singed from the bombs that have gone off around us, but not burned. There are many passages in scripture that refer to a refiner's fire, or a burning purification. Perhaps that is what this year has been to us.

We have learned to cling to the only constant in this life- and that is the person of God. I was tempted to write "the promises" of God, but his promises flow from who He is. One such promise, rooted in His person, is the provision of community. The flock of Faith we worship with has been a tremendous source of comfort and support. The Church outside of Birmingham, be it our friends or family, have been such a beautiful reminder of the huge story we are mere characters in. But what a lovely story it is.

This past weekend we attended a conference largely focused on sub-creation. Sub-creation being the reflection of a creative God in His image-bearers. If we are all made in the image of God, and he is a Creator, is it not then logical that by human right, we each are all creators, too? We mostly take it literally in the arts- creating scenes, or stories, or songs- but there is also a creativity in making beauty out of chaos. And that's what we feel right now.

Last night we acknowledged that this time of unemployment has been the best thing that ever happened to our marriage. A trial that sends many into divorce and abandonment, Christ used to infuse beauty into our lives. We are encouraged to find the glimpses of eternity in the unlovely, and to paint with grace a beautiful scene of redemption and restoration.

Getting Dirty

2011-03-15T10:37:00.001-05:00

A few weeks ago, we had our annual Outreach Conference at church. The speaker used a great illustration that has really resounded in my heart. He talked about how, as a boy, when playing team sports, he would try to get his uniform as dirty as possible. He wanted the sweat, blood, dirt, grass stains- everything on his uniform to show that he had given every effort he had, and that he had really played the game. He was ashamed at the end of the game if his uniform was clean.

He went on to explain how much we, as the Church, all to often have clean uniforms at the end of the game. We live in comfort- and not just physical comfort- but spiritual comfort. We live and worship with those who look and think just like us. We give minimally, not sacrificially. We serve when it is convenient for us, and in contexts where we're comfortable. When we die, we'll stand before the Father with clean uniforms.

But what if we played the game and got dirty? Gave sacrificially of ourselves and our resources. Worked, worshiped, and dwelled with those who think and look different than us. Got out of our comfort zones. Sweat. Bled.

We've forgotten who Christ really was. In doing a study on Mark over the past year and a half, it's been eye opening to see what Christ truly said and did. Who he prioritized (the outcast and hurting) and who he condemned (the self-sufficient religious). And he didn't stay in his comfort zone.

He got himself killed.

In reading David Platt's Radical, I've come to realize how much I truly have bought into the American Dream. The mindset that this life is about my comfort. I've got my heaven ticket punched (thank you, Jesus, for that), and now it's smooth sailing until I reach heaven.

Nope.

I'm called to sweat. Bleed. Cry. Suffer.

Right now, my uniform is squeaky clean.

Now, an aside: Scripture doesn't condemn prosperity, happiness, joy, or wealth. Ecclesiates is clear that there is a time for dancing as well as mourning, for weeping and for laughing. Even Christ's first miracle was replenishing the wine at a wedding feast. But that's not the whole picture. So often we take the weekend without the workday. We take the joys of the Christian road, but not the responsibilities.

And yet, I'm so encouraged by what I see the Father doing in His Church. Ministries like Mission Birmingham, and Advance Memphis. Schools like Restoration Academy. Homes like the Lovelady Center. Loving the unlovely, and therefore learning our own unloveliness. Adopting the orphans and the fatherless out of gratitude for our own adoption into the Kingdom. Reaching past racial and cultural boundaries.

And I want in on it.

When I meet my Father face to face, I want to have a dirty uniform.
I want Him to say, "Well done, my child. Well done."

Evelyn

2011-03-05T13:32:00.002-06:00

So, this blog has not yet had it's due post on the newest addition to our family:

Evelyn Christine

"Evelyn" means "life" and " Christine" means "follower of Christ. Her verse that we've put on her birth announcement and painting is John 10:10-
" I came that they may have life- and have it abundantly."

Already she is such a delight. She fills our home with such a quiet joy. Already, at such a tiny age, she has a spirit of peace about her, and an elegance that rivals that of royalty.

Isaiah has adjusted well. We had a tough week after my mother went home, but since he has become quite fond of her and loves to bring her blankets and play with her dainty little hands. She adores him and the feeling is quickly becoming mutual. She'll gaze at him with her big blue eyes, and he has a special gentleness that he seems to reserve only for her.

One golden son, and one silver moon.

One blazing with joy and energy.
One glowing with peace and beauty.

Praise God from whom all blessing flow.

Living again.

2011-03-05T13:15:00.001-06:00

Like many bloggers, I hesitate to write because I'm afraid I have nothing worthwhile to say. Yet I've come to realize that I enjoy writing- and that I should write for that sole reason. I've tried to divide myself among blogs as well. One for my family, one for my passion for creativity, and one for my thoughts. And yet, I'm one person made of many components, so why should my online expression be anything otherwise?

With that brief introduction aside, I'll get to what I'm actually thinking.

So, lately, Andrew and I have become huge fans of the musician, Andrew Peterson. A few months ago, (my) Andrew expressed the desire for (and I quote), "Christian music that doesn't suck."

Poetic, yes?

Well, we've found it. That and so much more, for with Andrew Peterson comes the Rabbit Room- an online forum of Christian artists intent on promoting creativity in the Kingdom. And not trite, contrived concoctions, but genuine, soul stirring works of music, art, lyric, stories, etc. Much like modern day Inklings.

This discovery has catalyzed a small revival in our home- a desire to allow the Holy Spirit to work through us creatively, not in formats or formulas that we find comfortable. I've found myself being dug out of my "safe" mommy rut- of using my children as an excuse to hide from my fears of being mediocre. Have I not been listening to my own sermons? Creativity is about the process, not the result. And the more genuine the process, the more beautiful the result, yes?

So I'm singing again.

I'm cooking again (this week we're having Doro Wat- an African stew, rather than my safe casseroles).

Hopefully, I'll be teaching music again next year.

I'm reading poetry.

I'm writing.

And most of all, I'm looking away from the mountain of spit-up stained laundry, and trying to see a glimpse of the Kingdom within the four walls of this home.

I have this vivid picture in my mind of who I could be if I stopped hiding- if I looked at this life as an adventure- as a journey home, rather than a waiting room. I want to love without abandon, reach out without fear. Live without inhibition- guided by the love of my Abba. I want to feel the warmth of His pleasure on my face, and bask in His goodness. I know there will be darkness. This past year has held much of that for me, yet rather than shying away, I want to press through, holding fast to the promises set before me.

I want to dance along the path.

And to quote Peterson, sing along as well:

"We sang a hymn to the rhythm of the river that flows
Down from the mountain of the Holy Ghost
And into the souls of those
Who know His name."

Care to dance with me?

Home

2010-12-23T09:21:00.000-06:00

We're not moving!!!!!!!

Andrew turned down the job.

At first we struggled with being happy with this decision, but as we have continued to watch circumstances with this job unfold, it truly wasn't the right time for our family to make this sort of move.

I finally feel like I can rest in my home again. Not to mention having the freedom to get the house ready for Evie's arrival in a few weeks!!!

Perfect Weakness

2010-11-15T11:47:00.003-06:00

So I'm back to my original thoughts.
The other was worth a try, but not true to my current status.

You see, about a month ago, Andrew came home and dropped a huge bomb into my life.

He'd been offered a job.

Out of town.

Out of state.

Unexpectedly.

At the time, 26 weeks pregnant.

This may not seem like a huge deal, and from the outside looking in, it isn't.

But from the inside, it truly felt like I was running around in a war zone, searching for pieces of familiarity. I went though denial, business, then grief.

And now, for the past three weeks, we've been waiting. What seemed sure is now tentative. And what seemed dreadful, now seems desirable.

One of the hardest things about this possibility is the revelation of my own idols and my great weakness. I never realized what comfort I took in my home. These four walls have become such a part of me- filled with personal expression, memories, hurts, and dreams. I had no idea I would cling to it so furiously.

Among my other comforts reside my doctors (OB and pediatrician), my grocery store (seriously), my favorite restaurants, etc. I feel as though I have been grasping on to everything familiar, and largely insignificant, and holding tight with clenched fists.

Lastly, and most significantly, I have found that my church has been one of the greatest treasures I would regret leaving behind. These men and women have become our family. That may sound trite, but it's very true. Except for one uncle, we have absolutely no family in the area. These men have become brothers and mentors to Andrew. These women have been sisters, friends, aunts, grandmothers, etc. to Isaiah and me. These children, nieces, nephews, and cousins. We eat together, pray together, worship together, and play together.
This change has caused me to become so thankfully aware of the blessing of the church.

And most importantly, of the Church eternal.

At the beginning of this ordeal, one sweet sister put me in touch with a dear friend of hers in the new city. We know absolutely no one there, one of the larger sources of my anxiety. But through my contact with this mutual friend, I have begun to see the Church in a much broader sense. This friend has already provided me with doctors, mothers groups, and prayer partners in the area. I have come to so very joyfully realize that we have family waiting for us there. We just haven't met them yet. In the process of finding peace, this has been the greatest comfort.

Don't you just love how Christ established his people?

As I mentioned before, not only has this move revealed my idols, but also my great weakness.

Weakness in the form of severe, paralyzing anxiety, raw emotions, and great entitlement.

I'm now in my second year of Tim Keller's study on the book of Mark, led by an incredible woman from my church.

One of the biggest themes in Mark is Christ's desire for our complete and total dependence on him. His power is made perfect in weakness, and to paraphrase Keller,
asking Him for a little help is repulsive.
He requires total surrender, total obedience, and child-like faith.

I've known this for quite some time, but the practice of it has left me joyfully broken. In embracing my weakness and lack of control, I have found such peace. I never really was in control to begin with, and having been stripped of that illusion, I have been able to breathe more freely and walk with open hands.

As for the job, what seemed very certain is now somewhat tentative. It hinges on a phone call. We may be moving in less than a month, or not at all. With sweet baby Evelyn 10 weeks from arriving, I'm eager to know which city I'll be calling "home."

But for now, I'll be perfecting my weakness.

Failure

2010-09-15T23:07:00.000-05:00

I'm reading through "Waking Up Grey" by Jennie Schut right now, and found these thoughts to be quite insightful, and encouraging to me.

We have a saying in our family for projects that don't quite turn out the way we hoped...
Arts and Craps.

I've had many such flops in my short days, and will continue to do so for many years...
But Schut has such beautiful words about this:

"We need to be careful not to interpret our "wrong attempts" as a mistake of calling. Your calling is where your passion lies. God has given us desires for our callings. It is not helpful to measure advancements toward your calling by success and failure. We are not after results. We are after the journey. It is the process that God brings beauty to; the end product will only be as beautiful as the process has been."

"Our creative process must have its origin in the presence of God. The Audience of One is the most significant audience there is. When we begin to believe that God has ordained any creativity that flows out of us, we come to a deeper understanding of that process. Not only does He sanction the creative process, He is causing it to happen."

I love this. My failed attempts are worth it simply for the attempt. I will always fail- in mothering, in music, in art. It will never be perfect. But I am mothering in the name of the One who parented me. I am singing in the Audience of the author of music himself. Why should I dare to think that even my most excellent offerings are anything near worthy?

Because He ordained them.

And as my favorite verse says, "He makes everything beautiful in its time."

Even me.

one day

2010-07-06T10:46:00.005-05:00

Dear Isaiah,

This morning, your daddy tucked you in bed next to me as he started getting ready for work.

I love these mornings. Watching your little chest rise and fall, your sweet red hair sticking out in all directions, your mouth open with a slight baby snore.

You flip over, bright eyed and ready for the day. Sometimes you climb on my chest and pepper me with those open mouth kisses you've become so fond of giving.

You have the best laugh in the world. High pitched, joyful, and completely uninhibited.

Always smiling, and usually chirping or gibbering to yourself as you play.

I pray you keep this un-jaded joy for many years to come.

I love the games you invent with yourself. Tossing toys into each other, chasing balls, or placing favorite things in secret hiding places. You are all boy, and so very much like your daddy.

This morning, you fell over and bumped your head. Music was playing, and as I scooped you up to comfort you, our swaying turned into a dance. You on my hip, my hand on your back, you smiling as we twirled and dipped.

I cried. I don't know why, but my thoughts went straight to your wedding.

One day, we'll dance again. You'll be taller than me.

You will have pledged your love and faithfulness to some lucky girl.

Already, I'm preparing you and myself for that day. I long for it and dread it at the same time.

I know it seems far off, but you were born seconds ago, it seems, and already a year has passed.

I'm looking forward to hearing what you have to say. To watching you play your first tee ball game.

To teaching you music, hearing you sing, and rejoicing over every little accomplishment you make.

But for now, I delight to feel your heat and weight in my arms, receive all the kisses you can give, watch you taking surer steps, and bask in the symphony of your tiny voice saying "mama" whenever those dark hazel eyes shift in my direction.

No doubt you will be a gallant little boy and a very fine man one day.

But I'm so honored, in this moment, to have you as my baby.

All Things New

2010-06-09T12:15:00.002-05:00

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.

It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;

It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil

Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?

Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;

And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;

And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil

Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;

There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;

And though the last lights off the black West went

Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs-

Because the Holy Ghost over the bent

World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

"God's Grandeur" by Gerard Manley Hopkins

We serve a God of restoration. You see, he created a perfect world.

Order. Beauty. Harmony.

He created man in perfect relationship with him. He created woman, to perfectly compliment the man. The man's work was fruitful. No thorns.

And then we ruined it. We decided we didn't need God. We could do it ourselves.

Humanity, and all of creation along with it, suffers for that decision.

But what happened next? The Father sought out his children in the Garden. He didn't leave them. He didn't forsake them. He came and found them.

And he promised to restore them.

That's the theme of the entire Bible. God bringing his people back to Himself.

Look around. No matter your worldview or religion, you can tell that all is not right with this world. Things are broken. People are broken. Creation itself if groaning for restoration.

Behold, I am making all things new.

That's the Gospel.

He came back. He didn't leave us. He forged a path back to Himself.

And one day, He's coming back to get us.

Morning is coming, and all of creation will be restored.

Even me.

There Forever Stay

2010-05-06T21:51:00.005-05:00

There is nothing I love so much about summer in the south as driving alone in the evening, windows down, with the thick summer night pouring in through the windows.

I love that smell. It's a deep, rich fragrance that permeates the air. One of my sweetest memories is of driving along winding country roads, surrounded by the warm thick fragrance, with nothing but lush greenery and fireflies around me.

It reminds me of Eden.

I think one of the reasons we are so captivated by beauty is that our souls long to be back in the garden.

A dear friend once was speaking about Eden, and read the passage in Genesis that mentions God walking in the garden in the cool of the day. Then he stopped, and in his deep southern drawl, said, " You know- that's what I imagine Heaven to be like. God walking in the garden in the cool of the day."

I've been thinking on heaven a lot lately. I'm so excited about seeing the tree of life. The ESV comments that it reappears in the New Jerusalem , its roots watered by the living water from God's throne, its fruit a constant source of nourishment, and its leaves bringing healing.

How I long to be there. He's there.

But He's here, too.

Jesus tells us that the Kingdom of God is at hand. The old has gone, and the new has come.

His followers initially took it to mean a literal, tangible kingdom.
But he meant himself.

The fullness of the kingdom of God is our midst, just like the heavy fragrance that surrounds a southern summer. It hangs between the seen and the unseen.

But I still can't wait to see.

I imagine a huge wedding feast in the Garden. A giant banquet table shaded by the tree of life. Colors we have never seen. Notes we have never heard. Tastes and scents uncomprehensible.
Light pouring through the leaves, as he sits us down to feast on his fullness.

There we will walk with him in the cool of the day.

And there forever stay.

My Song

2010-03-15T12:32:00.005-05:00

The other day, I was at the grocery store, standing in line with Isaiah, when the man ahead of me kind of hit on me. I was flattered, and a little bashful. It's kinda nice to have someone pay attention to you- especially after you've had the reverse-makeover of having a baby. After we talked and he helped me load my groceries on the conveyor belt, I thanked him and told him to have a nice day- hinting that our interaction was over.

I've been pondering over how good it felt to have his attention.

But also, what motivated me to end our brief meeting?

My motivation was the security in my love for another, and his love for me.

You see, Andrew loves me so very well, that I don't need the affections of another.
That man couldn't offer me anything I didn't already have.

Of course, this ties in to other thoughts and convictions in my life.
I went on a women's retreat a few weeks ago, and the speaker used this illustration (which I'll paraphrase).

I'm sure you're familiar with the sirens from Greek Mythology- how they lured sailors to their deaths by drawing them to rocky shores through their irresitable songs. What I had never heard before was how two different mythological figures, Odysseus and Jason, were able to resist their songs, but with two very different methods.

Odysseus wanted to hear the song of the sirens, and ordered that his crew stop their ears with beeswax, yet had himself bound to the mast of the ship with open ears. He told his men that no matter how much he begged, not to release him. The crew did as he said, and when they neared the area where the sirens dwelled, Odysseus strained to escape to the sirens, and the crew bound him all the tighter. After they were far from the sirens and their songs, their ears were unstopped and Odysseus was unbound.

Jason, however, took a much different approach. Knowing that he too would pass by the sirens, Jason brought Orpheus along on the journey. Orpheus was famed for his incomparable music. None could match the beauty of his voice or his lyre. When Jason's ship neared the islands of the sirens, he instructed Orpheus to play his most beautiful songs. Orpheus played, and the sirens sang. But the music of Orpheus was so beautiful that the songs of the sirens held no appeal for Jason and his men. They sailed safely past.

These myths are a powerful illustration of how we view the Gospel. Some treat the Gospel as ropes that bind us away from temptation and death. We are tied down and unable to fall prey to the traps of this world. The speaker of the conference however, proposed that the Gospel is much more like the songs of Orpheus. The beauty of Christ, and the love and life He has to offer are so much more beautiful than anything the world can tempt me with.

I was able to walk away from the attention of that other man because I can rest in the love of my husband.

So much more, I can walk away from the false pleasures and promises of the world because I have tasted the goodness and fullness of my Jesus.

In Christ alone, my hope is found. He is my light, my strength, my song.

Love.

2010-02-04T15:40:00.005-06:00

Valentine's day is right around the corner...so this word is thrown around a lot these days.

Love.

All the definitions I could find had to do with feeling, desire, preference, etc.

But it's so much more.

One of the leaders in our church said a few weeks ago during a discussion:

"Every person is made in the image of God. Every
person. How much different would our lives look if we treated people
like they were made in God's image?
I think that's a pretty good start to a better definition.

If we look at the Scriptures, we learn more- that love is patient, kind, slow to anger, never provoking, forgiving, sacrificial.

Not so fuzzy, huh?

Even more, it's the greatest commandment: "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment, And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbors (all others) as yourself."

How about you stick that on your valentines this year?

"I will be slow to anger with you."
"I will forgive you even before you ask it."
"I will sacrifice my wants for your own."
"I will get over my pride and pursue you."
"I will treat you as one who bears the image of God."

Not so easy.

But it's so very important.

Ready? This one's going to hurt, too:

Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so
that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought
to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us.

This ties in with another thought that's been on my heart. What is the mark of a true Believer?

Well, as this passage clearly indicates...it's love.

Not knowledge.
Not maturity.
Not good works, good reputation, or anything else we can "do."

The calling card of a Christian is the way we treat others. The way we talk about others. The way we think about others. If God, who is love, truly abides in us, then that should bear the fruit of kindness, patience, gentleness...i.e. love in our lives.

Slap that on a hallmark card.

I wish it were easier. But I'm so thankful that I have the Holy Spirit to help.

Righteousness

2010-01-20T21:42:00.004-06:00

"God loves you just the way you are, but he loves you too much to leave you that way. He wants you to be like Jesus."
Max Lucado

I'm pursuing righteousness. For the first time in my life, I am deeply concerned with the type of fruit I'm bearing.

In college, I rebelled. I didn't want to be all goody-two shoes like the rest of my friends. I wanted to be edgy. I wanted to be different.

It was a different type of self-righteousness.

But I've been convicted since then.

"Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me."

"As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct..."

"...and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the praise and glory of God."

It has nothing to do with motherhood, wifehood, etc.

It has everything to do with "walking in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace."

But please understand:

I don't want to be better than you.

I don't want to be better than him.

I don't want to be better than her.

I want to be better than myself.

2010-01-17T23:32:00.003-06:00

Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge.
I say to the Lord, “You are my Lord;
I have no good apart from you.”

As for the saints in the land, they are the excellent ones,
in whom is all my delight.

The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply;
their drink offerings of blood I will not pour out
or take their names on my lips.

The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup;
you hold my lot.
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.

I bless the Lord who gives me counsel;
in the night also my heart instructs me.
I have set the Lord always before me;
because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.

Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices;
my flesh also dwells secure.
For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,
or let your holy one see corruption.

You make known to me the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

Psalm 16

I've been reading through the Psalms. and this was my chapter for the night. It's been my greatest comfort in light of the last few weeks.

(un)Finished

2010-01-10T12:46:00.005-06:00

Andrew tells me I over-analyze things.

Oh, if only he knew, how much.

A simple glimpse at myself in the mirror has caused me to ponder and reflect for weeks on end.

Over Christmas, when at my in-laws' church, I stole away to "powder my nose" during the sermon. As I approached the sink area, I saw a middle-school aged girl fidgeting in the mirror. It shocked me how quickly I identified with her.

Boys, you may not understand this, but girls, you will likely remember the uncertainty of those years.

Everything, from your body, to your friends, to your emotions, is in a constant state of unsettling transition.

I remember all too well the hurt that comes just from being a teenager.
The wounds inflicted by my own self loathing, and the wounds of friends, boyfriends, and family.

I felt so unloved. And so unlovely. Tears are welling up just thinking about it.

Then I looked up in the mirror.
I gasped.

I was beautiful.

I know that sounds egotistical, but hear me out.

When I looked up, I saw a body that was settled- everything in place and proportionate.

I saw someone's wife. I was loved. I had two rings on my finger to prove it.

I saw someone's mother. I was capable. I was valued. I was needed.

I saw in that mirror the hopes, prayers, and dreams of my middle school self come true.

I'm still choking up.

In front of me was a woman. Finished.

Of course, my reflection hasn't stopped there. I'm reminded of God's promise to "make everything beautiful in its time," as well as the promise that "He who began a good work in you shall be faithful to complete it."

He made me physically beautiful. Finished.
He gave me a husband who constantly affirms my worth and loveliness.

If he can finish me physically, than surely he will continue to work on my heart.

I'm still that middle school girl, sometimes. Searching for worth. Struggling with ugliness.

I will be until I reach the end of the race.
But I know that at the finish line, he will make me complete, whole, and altogether lovely.

I'll probably gasp when I see that, too :)

Bountifully

2010-01-05T15:52:00.007-06:00

I want to say that winter is a time of reflection. But for me, who is constantly in a state of introspection, it seems as though all seasons bring about their own unique types of reflection.

Most people think of Spring as a time for rebirth- but for me, it's in the frosty stillness of winter. Everything is quiet. Creation is resting.

Whereas Autumn is the Lullaby, to me, Winter is the Dream.

"The early mist had vanished and the fields lay like a silver shield... It was one of those days when the glitter of winter shines." Edith Wharton

This morning was glittering at me. Not just in the bright white sunlight, but in the promises of new mercies. You see, yesterday, I failed at pretty much everything I think I'm good at...or at least supposed to be good at.

The laundry never got put away.

I was constantly frustrated at my child, and had to eventually put him in his crib and just close the door.

I criticized my husband, who works harder than anyone I know to provide for his family, for watching football instead of interacting with me.

Dinner sucked.

But this morning glittered with promise.

His mercies are new every morning.

Because of His good work in me, I don't have to be the nagging wife/impatient mother/poor housekeeper that I was yesterday.

"But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the LORD, because he has dealt bountifully with me." Psalm 13:6

Yes, He most certainly has.

Resolute

2009-12-29T14:45:00.004-06:00

I heard a statistic that most people give up on their New Year's resolutions by February 17th. Sounds about right.

This year, I'm not going to resolve to "do" anything.

But I am praying for a change in my heart that will spur on growth.

I'm "too good" for so many things, you see.

This struck me when I was at the dentist's two weeks ago. I expected an uneventful visit. I heard that pregnancy can wreak havoc on your teeth. But I'm too good for that, so it's not going to happen to me.

WRONG.

Seven cavities. SEVEN. Apparently I'm not immune to humanity.

I do this with a lot of things.

I think I can stay in shape by just eating pretty well and not exercising. Not.

I think I can grow spiritually by just talking to God occasionally, and keeping a heavenly perspective. Nope.

I think I can find patience in some hidden chamber of my heart, and tap into it without the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Not a chance.

So, I'm not going to resolve to exercise, read my Bible consistently, and pray like I believe it. There's a reason people stop 6 weeks in. We as humans cannot generate goodness. We can only channel or reflect it.

I'm praying that my Father will make a change in me, so that I will accept my need for exercise, and therefore do it joyfully; that I will delight in reading Scripture, and therefore gravitate towards God's word; that I will believe in the power of prayer, and not assume that my heart will be changed without it.

This year, I'm not going to change anything about myself. I'm asking that Jesus take away my pride and create growth in me.

Anniversary

2009-11-29T22:08:00.004-06:00

A year ago today, we found out you were on your way :)

Of all the things we're thankful for,

Most of all. it's you.

Inbetween

2009-11-16T14:01:00.003-06:00

I'm an old soul.

This has been told to me by many people over the course of my life. Even as a child- I have a distinct memory of a Sunday School teacher commenting to my mother on how "old" I was for my age.

Makes Sense.

I became most aware of this myself as a teenager. I wasn't interested in anything my peers were. I listened to different music, wore different clothes, read different books. While other girls were dreaming about their future prom dates, I was making a list of qualities for my future spouse.

So, it comes as no surprise to me that at 23 years old, I am married with a house and a baby.

A stay at home mom at 23.

I love it.

You see, my priorities have changed. I understand that some of my friends may not get it. One day, they will. Getting my child to bed at a decent hour is much more important to me than dinner out with friends. Having a few quality hours with my husband is more precious to me than girl time. It's nothing personal.

Not to say I don't need those things. However, as a mother and wife, I am called to complete and total selflessness. So, it's a sacrifice. But for the most joyful of causes.

So what's "in between" about this? Well- most of the people I know my age aren't even married. My married friends are a few years older. The ones with kids are mostly in their 30's.

I'm in between.

I'm "too old" for the friends my age, but I feel a gap in maturity and wisdom between myself and other friends with children. The kind that only comes with time.

But you know what? I'm happy. I love where I am. Hearing Andrew's key in the door is the highlight of my day. Watching Isaiah play during his bath is the best part of our evening.

All this to say, be patient with me. I may seem flighty. I may seem reclusive. Or, I may just seem uninterested. Not true,

I'm just in between.

(im)Perfection

2009-10-28T10:10:00.004-05:00

Now and then I'll catch myself under the delusion that I've got things together pretty well. You know- house, husband, baby, etc.

It never lasts long.

This past weekend was a lesson in my grave imperfection. The lesson has continued through the week as I've said so many stupid things- you know, when you're not thinking and you just say what's on your mind, not realizing that it can be taken offensively?

Yup, that's me.

And, when I care too much what people think of me (i.e. family..) I get defensive and feel the need to constantly prove my value. It's really obnoxious.

I've also done stupid stuff, too- from getting super frustrated with my baby, to ruining dinner (a hard pill to swallow, as I love cooking, and often pride myself on it...)

Point is..I'm not perfect. As much as I know it, it's still hugely shameful when I fail miserably. But, as my precious JenBush said, what a weight off my shoulders!

I can't be perfect. I don't have to be.

Someone else already did it for me :)

A Story

2009-10-26T12:43:00.004-05:00

I try to read to Isaiah every day, even this early on. My favorite thing so far is the Jesus Storybook Bible. The author puts every Bible story into the perspective of Christ- from Noah's ark to Daniel in the lion's den. The introduction gets me every time :)

The Story and The Song
God wrote, "I love you"- he wrote it in the sky and on the earth, and under the sea. He wrote his message everywhere! Because God created everything in his world to reflect him like a mirror- to show us what he is like, to help us know him, to make our hearts sing. And God out it into words, too, and wrote it in a book called, "the Bible."
Now, some people think the Bible is a book of rules, telling you what you should and shouldn't do. The Bible certainly does have some rules in it. They show you how life works best. But the Bible isn't mainly about you and what you should be doing. It's about God and what he has done.
Other people think the Bible is a book of heroes, showing you people you should copy. The Bible does have some heroes in it, but (as you'll soon find out) most of the people in the Bible aren't heroes at all. They make some big mistakes (sometimes on purpose). They get afraid and run away. At times they are downright mean.
No, the Bible isn't a book of rules, or a book of heroes. The Bible is most of all a Story. It's an adventure story about a young Hero who comes from a far country to win back his lost treasure. It's a love story about a brave Prince who leaves his palace, his throne- everything- to rescue the one he loves. It's like the most wonderful of fairy tales that has come true in real life!
You see, the best thing about this Story is- it's true.
There are lots of stories in the Bible, but all the stories are telling one Big Story. The Story of how God loves his children and comes to rescue them.
It takes the whole Bible to tell this Story. And at the center of the Story, there is a baby. Every Story whispers his name. He is like the missing piece in a puzzle- the piece that makes all other pieces fit together, and suddenly you see a beautiful picture.
And this is no ordinary baby. This is the Child upon whom everything would depend. This is the Child who would one day- but wait. Our Story starts right where all good stories start. Right at the very beginning....

Beautiful

2009-10-11T15:58:00.005-05:00

One of my favorite verses-
"He has made all things beautiful in its time, and has put eternity in the hearts of man." Ecclesiastes 3:11
It was on the order of worship for our wedding.

I love this promise, because I want to be beautiful.

I want the works of my hands to be beautiful. ( I really want to be her.)

I want to sing beautifully.

I want the words of my mouth to beautiful.

I want my home to be beautiful, smell beautiful, feel beautiful. I want anyone who walks through my door to feel instant peace.

I want my children to act beautifully.

I want the love between Andrew and me to be beautifully visible in a world that undermines marriage.

I want the mediations of my heart to be beautiful.

I want for each person who leaves my presence and my home to feel beautiful as a result of something I've said, or the way I've treated them.

It's more than looks to me.

I want to be beautiful.

Alone

2009-10-03T17:24:00.003-05:00

I miss...
the sound of the door opening when he gets home.
the smell of his clothes when I hug him in welcome.
his warmth next to me as I sleep.
his voice waking me in the morning.

Andrew is out of town for the weekend, and although I've had wonderful friends keeping me company, I miss him. I can be in a room full of my favorite people, but if he's not there, I feel alone.

Co-dependent? No.

He's my best friend. Every joy and disappointment is shared with him.

I want to be where he is, celebrating with his family.
I want him to be here with me, where I can take care of him (he's sick).

But I'm thankful for this. It's easy to get busy with the baby and forget my need for unity with my husband.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

come home soon.

I AM

2009-09-21T10:43:00.004-05:00

Isaiah Andrew Murphy.
His initials are no coincidence- one reason we picked the name was the significance of the name "I AM." It's the name God used for Himself when He wanted to convey His omnipresence throughout time to the Isrealites. He was in the past, is in the present, and will be in the future. Unchangeable and immovable.

This rainy Monday morning, I decided to listen to my Nichole Nordeman CD...the song "I Am" is an old favorite- and I'm thankful to be reminded of it in this new stage. I don't usually like to read lyrics on other people's blogs..but I think this one is worth it.

Pencil marks on a wall, I wasn't always this tall
You scattered some monsters from beneath my bed
You watched my team win
You watched my team lose
Watched when my bicycle went down again
And when I was weak, unable to speak
Still I could call You by name
And I said, Elbow Healer, Superhero
Come if You can
You said, I Am

Only sixteen, life is so mean
What kind of curfew is at 10pm?
You saw my mistakes
And watched my heart break
Heard when I swore I'd never love again
And when I was weak, unable to speak
Still I could call You by name
And I said Heartache Healer, Secret Keeper
Be my best friend
And you said, I Am

You saw me wear white by pale candlelight
I said forever to what lies ahead
Two kids and a dream, with kids that can scream
Too much it might seem when it is 2am
And when I am weak, unable to speak
Still I will call You by name
Shepherd, Savior, Pasture Maker
Hold onto my hand
You say, I Am

The winds of change and circumstance blow in and all around us
So we find a foothold that's familiar
And bless the moments that we feel You nearer

When life had begun, I was woven and spun
You let the angels dance around the throne
And who can say when, but they'll dance again
When I am free and finally headed home
I will be weak, unable to speak
Still I will call You by name
Creator, Maker, Life Sustainer
Comforter, Healer, my Redeemer
Lord and King, Beginning and the End

I Am

My Son

2009-09-16T14:23:00.005-05:00

It's happening. I'm becomming one of those sappy women who laments over how fast their babies are growing.
I put away Isaiah's newborn clothes today, which he's outgrown- and cried as I tucked them away in the closet. He's six weeks old now. Wow.
He's been growing steadily since he was conceived- it's exciting when you're pregnant to see how big your baby is getting- but once they're here- reality hits- that this precious life you've sustained for the majority of a year will outgrow his need for you before you know it. I know- he's still little and very helpless- but not as little and helpless.

But it is exciting at the same time- the new things he can do. For example, after almost every bottle, he sits and smiles as big as his face can handle, and coos at me until he falls back asleep. I catch myself holding him in his sleep- just for the sake of holding him, no other reason.

The song "My Son" by Andrew Ehrenzeller has been on repeat for the past hour or so. It's always been a favorite- but God's love for me is even more tangible now that I know the lengths I myself would go for my child. Go here to listen.

Autumn

2009-09-11T15:58:00.001-05:00

I can feel Fall aproaching.
It's not just my favorite season- it's the time of year that I come alive. My cheeks get rosier, my pulse quickens, and I'm happy about everything.
I sincerely get more excited about the approach of Autumn than Christmas, birthdays, and every other major holiday combined. The smells, tastes, colors... stir something deep within. I feel beautiful because everything around me is beautiful. And this year, I get to add a warm little bundle, bound up tight and nestled against my chest to the beauty.

It's also a time of new beginnings for me. For some people, it's Spring, or the New Year- but Fall offers such a serene environment of reflection for me. As extroverted as I am, I also tend to be extremely introspective.

Andrew and I fell in love in Autumn 5 years ago..and you can count back nine months and figure out that Isaiah is actually a Fall baby that didn't make his appearance until summer.

So here's to breaking out my huge collection of scarves and shawls, drinking endless mugs of hot tea and cider, watching Andrew teach Isaiah about football (the indoctrination began last night), and snuggling with my boys on the chilly evenings.

Yes.

1 month

2009-09-02T20:46:00.001-05:00

Isaiah turns a month old tomorrow! Today, to prove how big he's getting, he did two really cool things:

1) He grabbed a toy above his head. I know, I know- doesn't sound too nifty, but this is the first super coordinated movement he's made- AND he grabbed it on his first try- how's that for hand-eye coordination?!?

2) REALLY COOL (and kind of freaky) While I was holding him, he had his head lifted off my chest (which he's been able to do since birth- except now he can hold his head up for 1+ minute at a time) while I was watching a video with music. He started bobbing his head in rhythm. Let me repeat that: MY CHILD MOVED TO MUSICAL RHYTHM AT 1 MONTH OLD. I thought I might be making it up, but he did it again for Andrew a few moments later. We would play music and tap on my belly all throughout the pregnancy, and we've been playing music and tapping on him over the past few weeks- so this is really exciting! The ability to keep a steady beat is the first builing block of musical ability- and we're already on our way at a month old.

I know most of my blog entries are really introspective- which is very much my personality, but I'd like to try to incorporate the events of our family as well from now on, I think :)

Peace

2009-08-30T12:16:00.001-05:00

New Favorite Things:

The heat and weight of my child as he falls asleep on me.

The joy on my husband's face as he plays with his son.

The fact that I feel my most beautiful these days- even with sleepy eyes, unwashed hair, and clothes that don't fit.

The peace I feel with my Father. There seems to be no "me time"- including time in prayer and reading. Yet despite this, I feel His presence near me at all times- a warm and comforting arm around my shoulder as every moment of my day is wrapped up in the care of my family.

Welcome

2009-08-07T15:32:00.001-05:00

We welcomed Isaiah into the world on Monday, August 3rd at 5:40 pm. He weighed 7 lbs. 10 oz. and was 19 1/2 inches long. His first cry was the most spectacular thing I've ever heard. My labor began at around 4:30 am Monday morning, but it wasn't until about 8:30, when I woke up my mother, that I realized I was in labor. We called the doctor, called Andrew, who came and took me to the hospital (running two red lights on the way, I might add :) The doctor checked me, and sent me over to the delivery wing. By about noon, I had my epidural in (heaven) and began pushing a little after 5:00. I only pushed for about 30 minutes when suddenly, my life changed. Out came the most beautiful baby- even the nurses kept cooing and commenting over him as they cleaned him up and checked his vital signs. I felt the most tremendous relief when I held him for the first time. Andrew was incredible- he did everything right- from words of encouragment to loving touches. I couldn't imagine a prouder father in this world.
As for Isaiah, so far he is the happiest, most content baby. He only cries when he's hungry, loves to snuggle, and has eyes that could solve all the problems in this world. I'm amazed by how quickly we're learning each other. I was so worried that I wouldn't be good at this, or that I wouldn't love him enough- and all that worry was for nothing :). He's been sleeping in his bouncy seat in our room at night- I can't stand to have him out of my sight. My mother has been staying with us and has been the biggest help in the world- from taking care of the household and the cooking, to rocking him in the morning to let us sleep. I've caught myself crying several times- not out of sadness, but overwhelming joy. I have a godly husband who loves me with his whole being, an incredible and devoted father to my child, and a healthy happy baby that looks just like him. I had an easy pregnancy, smooth delivery, and quick recovery. And, for the first time, I'm grasping the parental love that God the Father has for me through all these things.

Praise God from Whom all blessing flow.

No greater love

2009-07-31T12:29:00.002-05:00

Andrew and I just got an ESV study Bible, which has been such a tremendous help in understanding the Scriptures. I already knew that Isaiah's name meant "God is Salvation," but I didn't know that the main theme of the book of Isaiah was the same thing.

"Isaiah shares with the rest of the Old Testament a high view of the mission of Israel. God called Abraham and his family to be the vehicle by which he would bring to the whole world the blessing of knowing the true God. The great tragedy of Israel was their repeated faithlessness, which hid the light from the Gentiles. God will not be thwarted, however, and in order to bless the Gentiles he will purify his people and from them raise up the heir of David."

Commentary on Isaiah 43
"God reassures his people that, for his own glory, he will ensure their wonderful resoration. Fear not. Knowing what they deserve, the people should fear, but hearing of their Redeemer's choice and promise, they should not fear. you are mine What defines them is not their guilty blindness, but the grace of the One who says, "You are mine." I give Egypt as your ransom...Cush and Sheba God's people are secured by his resolve to be glorified through their salvation. Here Isaiah plays on the idea of a ransom price that is sometimes conveyed by "redeemed."

God will move history for the sake of his people...God will go to any length and alter the history of any nation for his people's salvation."

When we picked Isaiah's name, years ago when we were dating, we were unaware of the name's greatest beauty.

Generator

2009-07-09T13:18:00.001-05:00

I need to stop trying to generate my own love.
I can't. It's impossible.
All I can do is reflect the love Christ has for me.

Almost there!

2009-06-16T21:22:00.001-05:00

Isaiah is 7 weeks away from arriving! We can't believe that soon we'll have a baby in our home.

Confidence

2009-04-14T14:19:00.001-05:00

"Theres something in the way she moves,or looks my way or calls my name,
that seems to leave this troubled world behind.
And if I'm feelin down and blue,or troubled by some foolish game,
she always seems to make me change my mind.
And I feel fine any time she's around me now, she's around me now
almost all the time.
And if I'm well you can tell she's been with me now."

My goals as a wife:
Affirm my husband's strength and leadership.
Receive his leadership, and allow him to serve me, rather than taking charge.
Nurture his masculine strengths- set him up for success in his relationship with me and his relationships with others.

You can tell a loved woman by the way she smiles- she'll glow when she knows she rests in the adoration of another. Love will make her beautiful.

How can you tell a loved man? I think the above lyrics demonstrate that confidence may be the main indicator. A man is more assertive, more confident of his actions and words when he knows he is unconditionally loved. It is my most intimate prayer that I be this kind of wife...one that can bring him assurance and affirmation by my mere presence.

Mars and Venus

2009-04-07T17:56:00.002-05:00

Lately, Andrew and I have been studying Godly Masculinity and Femininity. The texts are by John Piper and Stu Weber.

Their claims and assertions fly in the face of cultural propriety.

But they're right, I think. Very Biblically sound.

Andrew came across a quotation by G.K. Chesterton which we have both found uplifting and thought provoking:

"The greatest political storm flutters only a fringe of humanity. But an ordinary man and an ordinary woman and their ordinary children literally alter the destiny of nations.

God is Salvation

2009-03-11T02:07:00.001-05:00

We are having a son.
His name is Isaiah, meaning "God is salvation."

:)

Change

2009-02-24T21:10:00.001-06:00

This week's thoughts:

Why don't adults act like adults?
Why do I expect them to?

Andrew and I have been studing spiritual gifts in Sunday school. We think mine is mercy and his might be wisdom. I sympathize/empathize very easily, so this may be a fit. We've really enjoyed studying how/why God equips the church with these gifts.

Andrew and I made our first parenting decision this week- and the baby hasn't even been born yet! This isn't the "what kind of school will they go to one day?" talk, or a decision on how to decorate the nursery. This was reality. It was actually very unifying- to be so passionate and in such agreement about something regarding our child. We're such laid back people, it's been kinda funny to watch ourselves all the sudden care about germs, safety, travel, etc.

We find out the baby's gender two weeks from today. We can't wait! We're still debating baby girl names. I guess as long as we have something picked out by August, we'll be fine :) I'm just so eager to call this child by name.

I'm so proud of Andrew and all his hard work, both in his job and graduate school. He made a 100 on his last project for Corporate Finance!! It's been such a joy to finish "growing up" together. Even now, as I watch him study with his brow furrowed, my respect grows all the more. He has been so selfless in providing for his family.

We're reading "The Prodigal God," by Tim Keller in community group at church. Already, in the first two chapters, we have encountered such marvelous conviction. The book takes a deeper look at Christ's parable of the Prodigal Son, which Keller renames "The parable of Two Sons." Rather than focusing on the younger, wayward brother, the book takes a look at the heart of the Elder brother. If you haven't yet, take a look at this book. Expecially if you have been "Christianized" your entire life, like me. This has brought so much of my own sin to the surface, particularly in how I regard non-believers and their means of relationship with Christ.

The end.

See?

2009-02-10T13:45:00.001-06:00

I find myself simultaneously counting down the days until the baby comes and marveling at how quickly things are going.
I have a belly right now. Finally, I look pregnant instead of overweight!
I can also feel the baby moving. The books say a first time mom usually doesn't feel the movement for another 2-3 weeks, but I'm pretty in tune with my body, and I can assure you, I can feel the baby moving even as I type!! It's the strangest sensation- like the way your heart feels when you're nervous, but down in your abdomen. Another good description is a "flutter." So, if I burst into smiles for no apparent reason, and then start talking to my stomach, you'll know why.

The most incredible experience I've ever had happened yesterday.
I had an ultrasound, and the nurse took her time, and kept the ultrasound on me for at least 15 minutes (there was no one waiting for it, so why not?)
I got to see my little one's face, watch it smile and stretch and jump and wiggle!
After the baby calmed down and stopped moving, we targeted the heartbeat and listened to that for a little while. It's become my favorite sound in the world.
The nurse asked me what I did for a living. When I told her, she said, "Oh!! Sing something to the baby!!" I got a little embarrassed and said "Ok..I'll hum something." She explained that she wanted to see how the baby reacted. I didn't think the baby could hear me, but I obliged. As soon as I started humming, the baby started moving and wiggling and jumping! When I stopped, the baby stopped, and when I started the baby started moving again. I cried so hard...I had no clue that the baby already, at 14 weeks, knew my voice. The nurse just smiled really big and said, "See?"

Light & Life

2009-01-21T21:34:00.001-06:00

"What is in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."

One of the biggest responsibilities in bringing a person into the world is naming them.

Andrew and I will name a son "Isaiah," which means "God is salvation."

The girl names are harder. I liked "Amelia," but Andrew favors "Evelyn."

Then I looked up the meanings.

"Amelia" means burden, struggle, or rival
(more optimistic sources say "hard working" and "diligent."

Evelyn means "Life."

I also like the name "Eleanor," which means "Light."

Isaiah 43:1-7

But now thus says the LORD, he who created you, O Jacob,
he who formed you, O Israel:
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name, you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
and the flame shall not consume you.
For I am the LORD your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.
I give Egypt as your ransom,
Cush and Seba in exchange for you.
Because you are precious in my eyes,
and honored, and I love you,
I give men in return for you,
peoples in exchange for your life.
Fear not, for I am with you;
I will bring your offspring from the east,
and from the west I will gather you.
I will say to the north, Give up,
and to the south, Do not withhold;
bring my sons from afar
and my daughters from the end of the earth,
everyone who is called by my name,
whom I created for my glory

I Love Jesus Christ.

2009-01-09T12:43:00.001-06:00

John Piper on what it means to say, "I love Jesus Christ."

Loving Jesus is not the same as obeying all of Jesus’ commands. Jesus said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (John 14:15). That means that obedience to the commandments is the result of loving Jesus, not the same as loving Jesus. Love is something invisible and inside. It is the root that produces the visible fruit of loving others.

So here at the beginning of 2009, I join James Morgan in saying, “I love Jesus Christ.”

And as I say it, I want to make clear what I mean:

I admire Jesus Christ more than any other human or angelic being.
I enjoy his ways and his words more than I enjoy the ways and words of anyone else.
I want his approval more than I want the approval of anyone else.
I want to be with him more than I want to be with anyone else.
I feel more grateful to him for what he has done for me than I do to anyone else.
I trust his words more fully than I trust what anyone else says.
I am more glad in his exaltation than in the exaltation of anyone else, including me.

to read the full article: http://www.desiringgod.org/ResourceLibrary/TasteAndSee/ByDate/2008/3476_I_Love_Jesus_Christ

Selfishlessness

2009-01-06T22:03:00.001-06:00

There are a lot of emotions encountered with pregnancy.

One of mine is fear.
Fear of things changing. My relationship with Andrew. My social life. My work.

But things will change. And this will be good.

Most of these fears stem out of a deep rooted selfishness. Me my, my me. I.

This pregnancy, and impending motherhood, are ripping self away.

My sleep is for another.
What I eat is for another.
The air I breathe is for another.
Soon, my body will feed another.

It's not about me, or us, anymore.

People (and by people, I mean Tim Keller) say that marriage is one of the greatest vehicles for sanctification.

True.

But I think motherhood is going to be a pretty good vehicle, too.

new life

2008-12-17T19:59:00.001-06:00

I have a little life growing inside me.

We heard the heartbeat today.

I can't believe it.

Andrew keeps telling his friends, "I'm going to be a dad!"

It's a joy and an honor to be carrying his child.

"Wee little Murphy" expected around August 5th.

doormat.

2008-12-10T22:03:00.001-06:00

i'm such a doormat sometimes.

what's the difference between turning the other cheek, and getting walked all over?

if ever i try to speak up about my hurts or emotions, even in the most genuine way, things get ugly.

i'm not perfect.
i don't pretend to be.

why do we think confrontation is so bad?

if i've hurt someone, i want to know so i can make it better.

but if i'm hurt by someone, i always make it my fault.

but excusing isn't forgiving.
i need to stop excusing people for their faults, and just go ahead and forgive them.

i need to stop excusing myself, too.

Prayer

2008-12-04T20:00:00.001-06:00

Thank You.
You know so much better than we do.
But i'm still scared.

Please give me:
faith
health
peace

Please give Andrew:
assurance
confidence
affirmation.

Please give us:
Your immutable self.
A reminder that you will never leave us or forsake us.

Help us forget about money. Physical pain. Responsibility.

Let us look for no more than the joy in the gift and the delight of the Giver.

amen.

let's try prose.

2008-11-24T09:52:00.001-06:00

Andrew has encouraged me to do more writing. I used to write a lot of poetry, and have always wanted to dabble in prose. I guess a third-person journal entry is a good start...

saturday night.

"Are you ready yet?" he shouted from the other room. "No- hold on" she cried, as she burnt herself yet again with the curling iron. Her hair was, as usual, not behaving in a dignified manner, and she had spent the last forty five minutes trying to curl and pin it into submission. She finally settled with the result, and squeezed her way into one of his favorite shirts of hers- black and lacy. "Where are my shoes?" he asks again from the other room. "In the office," she replies as she smears dark red lipstick on her lips. She wanted to surprise him- to get ready in secrecy, then reveal herself cloaked in red and black for their date that night. His reaction was adequate- not as awe-struck as she had hoped, but he was sincerely pleased. They get in the car and dash off to the restaurant, chatting about nothing in particular. He lets her order her favorite dishes, and smiles in silence as she unleashes every conviction, every desire, and every epiphany her heart has met as of late. No timid looks, no smoldering touches, no whispers of future promises. Just dinner, shared by best friends. Best friends who happen to be married.
As they dash to the symphony, she chides his driving, as usual (a favor which he heartily and good- naturedly returned the following day) and chatters excitedly about the coming performance. He returns with similar anticipation as he maneuvers through the tapestry of vehicles, pedestrians, and road blocks. They reach their seats just before the downbeat of a one movement Messiaen symphony. Not her favorite, but elegant and descriptive nonetheless.

Tonight, there will be Mozart.

The first classical musician most young children learn is Mozart. Perhaps it's his fame. Perhaps it's his prodigical childhood. It's the first name anyone will provide when prompted for their favorite composer. But to her, this is no matter of convenience or familiarity.
This is love.

According to a college professor of hers, everything Mozart ever composed was opera at its core. Tonight she could hear it. The soaring melodic line in the piano was an aria, bursting forth in unfettered jubilation, then uttering a despairing lament before returning to inexplicable joy. The accompanying symphony was a chorus, further explaining the story and under girding the emotions of the title role.
Following the intermission, the orchestra undertakes the "Heldenleben" of Strauss.
Strauss- another favorite. According to another mentor, she is what is known as a "Mozart/ Strauss soprano." Although this description is that of vocal quality and timber, to her, it is a diagnosis of the heart. She would be content to sing only Mozart and Strauss for all her days.
She literally sits on the edge of her seat as the "battle scene" in the tone poem ensues. The melodic material is passed, nay- punted from section to section. The full chords, the tremendous sound, the sensitivity of the solo violin, the sheer ecstasy of the harmonies bring tears to her eyes.
She looks back into the eyes of her love. He rubs her back and welcomes her into his shoulder, whispering a tender, "I love you," as the symphony concludes. "Just imagine," he continues, "how many more symphonies there will be."

Conviction

2008-11-18T09:27:00.001-06:00

How I Approach God When Feeling RottenNovember 17, 2008 By: John Piper

A vague bad feeling that you are a crummy person is not the same as conviction for sin. Feeling rotten is not the same as repentance.
This morning I began to pray, and felt unworthy to be talking to the Creator of the universe. It was a vague sense of unworthiness. So I told him so. Now what?
Nothing changed until I began to get specific about my sins. Crummy feelings can be useful if they lead to conviction for sins. Vague feelings of being a bad person are not very helpful. The fog of unworthiness needs to take shape into clear dark pillars of disobedience. Then you can point to them and repent and ask for forgiveness and take aim to blow them up.
So I began to call to mind the commands I frequently break. These are the ones that came to mind.
Love God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength. Not 95%, 100%. (Matthew 22:37)

Love your neighbor as you love yourself. Be as eager for things to go well for him as you are for things to go well for you.

Matthew 22:39

Do all things without grumbling. No grumbling—inside or outside.

Philippians 2:14

Cast all your anxieties on him—so you are not being weighed down by it anymore.

1 Peter 5:7

Only say things that give grace to others—especially those closest to you.

Ephesians 4:29

Redeem the time. Don’t fritter or dawdle.

Ephesians 5:16

Set your mind on things that are above. Connect all your thoughts to Christ.

Colossians 3:2

Do not return evil for evil—like when your wife or daughter says something you don’t like.

1 Thessalonians 5:15

Rejoice always, and again I say rejoice. Always. If sorrowful, keep rejoicing.

Philippians 4:4; 2 Corinthians 6:10

Give thanks in all circumstances. All. All. All.

1 Thessalonians 5:18

So much for any pretensions to great holiness! I’m undone.
But now it is specific. I look it in the eye. I’m not whining about feeling crummy. I’m apologizing to Christ for not keeping all that he commanded. I’m broken and I’m angry at my sin. I want to kill it, not me. I’m not suicidal. I’m a sin hater and a sin murderer (“Put to death what is earthly in you” Colossians 3:5. “Put to death the deeds of the body” Romans 3:18.)
In this conflict, I hear the promise, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1John 1:9). Peace rises. Prayer feels possible and right and powerful again.

Authenticity

2008-11-17T08:44:00.001-06:00

I went to a ball this weekend.
Literally.
A masquerade ball- pretty dresses, decorative masks, hors d'oeuvres and everything.

I've been contemplating (as usual) ever since.

The concept of wearing a mask has struck me as disconcertingly familiar. What's the difference between wearing a disguise and genuinely trying to become a new creation?

Years ago, someone close to me accused me of being fake.
It hurt me. It struck me.
Above all things, I find myself to be absolutely transparent. Especially when I don't want to be.

The context of this comment was that I was treating someone with all the kindness I could muster, when it was apparent to the world that my true feelings were anything other than kind.

I rebelled. I tried to be "real" or more gritty. My language, my dress, my behavior, my theology- everything was affected by a pendulum swing from false purity to intentional ungodliness. And now the pendulum is swinging back to the middle- more of a balance, I think.

But still I struggle with this. In my desire to be a new creation, to answer only to God, to place my identity in Christ, to walk worthy of the life to which I have been called, am I not being fake? When I want to make a sharp comeback, but instead answer with kindness, when I want to criticize but choose to uplift, when I want to pass blame on others, but assume it instead- am I being unauthentic? I am not naturally good. I am not naturally selfless. Any goodness I proclaim has been laid upon me by the righteous blood of the Lamb.

So is my conversion a form of counterfeit- or my desire to do good despite my natural self a lack of genuineness?

obedience

2008-10-31T11:17:00.001-05:00

This year has been an exercise in obedience.
Of giving up, only to receive better things.

I left one job, only to receive something even better.

I left one church, where I knew comfort and security and personal glory, to find one where I know conviction, service, and sound theology.

I left one future plan, seeking God's plan and submitting to His wisdom as shown to my husband, and have known peace and prosperity beyond my wildest dreams.

I have turned my back on the dreams and plans others have imposed on me.

and now, I just am. Each day, without personal agenda, I get to serve in my home, in my work, and in my relationships to my delight and His glory.

I am using my voice, my hands, my heart now. I'm not waiting for someone else's dream for me to come true.

The road before me, the cross behind me.

no turning back...

of windchimes and rabbits.

2008-10-27T09:31:00.001-05:00

the windchimes in our backyard woke me up this morning.
the autumn breeze is rustling through trees.
sunlight is pouring in through the windows onto the hardwood floors.
as i sit here typing, the bunnies are cleaning each others' fur and snuggling.

yesterday in Sunday School we talked about Stewarship of time.
a lady asked about relaxation- how that would bring glory to God.

the teacher replied that thankfulness and meditation during relaxation
certainly could glorify God.
It's been a beautiful, peaceful morning.

I thank Him for the little things...

Gerard Manley Hopkins:

Glory be to God for dappled things-
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings;
Landscape plotted and pierced- fold, fallow- and plow;
And all trades, their gear tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him

Vanity, Praise, and Random Acts of Kindness

2008-10-16T15:02:00.001-05:00

Vanity:
I should be ashamed of myself. I am ashamed of myself. How could I let myself shift so off focus over my appearance, or over something that I really don't have control over? Call it culture, call it youth, call it vanity. Whatever it is, I can't let this shake me.

Praise:
I had a hard summer due to a lot of imbalance in both sides of my family. A few months ago I also found out that my Aunt and Uncle were having difficulties in their marriage. As a result of said strife, my Aunt began going to church and taking my little cousin, Paige, along with her. This is the first time, as far as I know, that Paige had ever been to church, let alone presented with the Gospel. As a result, Paige has received Salvation. Her baptism is on Sunday. I have cried tears of joy several times this week, knowing that not only is she in covenant relationship with Jesus now, but also witnessing first hand that God truly does work all things for good, and that He delights in answering the prayers of his children. Pray that He continues to work in the lives and hearts of my family.

Random Act of Kindness:
On Tuesday, I went to the post office to mail a birthday gift for my daddy. I was a little pressed for time, but decided to get it out of the way since I was already in the area. I walk in and am greeted by an unusually long line. I decide to wait it out, and take my place behind a gentleman in his late 30's/early 40's. He looks over at me and nonchalantly states," I didn't expect there to be such a crowd at 2:00." I reply, "Oh!! Is it 2:00 already?" He checks his watch, "1:53 to be exact." "Oh, good.. I've got a voice lesson at 2:30 and don't want to be late!" "Oh, you've got to be somewhere! Here, step ahead of me," he offers. He places his hand firmly on my back and ushers me in front. I politely protest and then thank him for his kindness. As we continue to wait, he receives a phone call. I can only hear his side, which goes something like," Is her breathing OK? I want you to push fluids as soon as she wakes up...and antibiotics. Make sure you give her those on time. How's the ventilator running? Ok, good...call me if anything changes. I'll be there as soon as I can. Love you, bye"

I'm floored.

Here he has somebody he loves, waiting on him, tending to another person he loves- someone who seems desperately sick. And he ushers me to the front of the line?

As I'm walking out, I thank him again. "Have a good voice lesson!" he cheerfully replies.

"How did he remember my measly little voice lesson?" I think.

I have been mulling over his kindness and selflessness ever since.

Fellowship

2008-10-12T22:12:00.001-05:00

Hebrews 10:24-25
" And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near."

It has become increasingly apparent to me over the past months how much my spirit is affected by the company I keep. Andrew and I recently moved from one church to another for various reasons, and the effect on our marriage has been paramount. We went from a church that failed to proclaim the gospel, focusing more on human relationships and civil duty, to a church where the gospel is central, with each relationship being directly affected by the grace and goodness of God. It has been manna in a time of heartache and drought.

My prayers over the summer shifted to an earnest entreaty for Christian fellowship- girls especially. I tell my friends all the time that God delights in giving good gifts to His children, yet I was blown away by how quickly and overwhelmingly He gave to me. Not only did He send new friends, but He also modified my relationship with an old friend. It is so refreshing to be among women of God at work, who are constant source of encouragement. It has been equally precious to become friends with girls my own age, many of whom are recently married as well. My understanding of my relationship to Andrew has grown, just in watching other women serving and loving their husbands.

Yesterday we spent the day with friends, including a few that are not believers. The pessimism and hopelessness of one was nearly suffocating to me. I almost cried several times out of sheer pity and shame that someone I love could be living in such desperation. He's been surrounded by the Truth for years, but refuses to drink. He's dying of thirst.
Later, through conversation with a dear friend, I realized how much my spirit is affected by the company I keep. I often thrive in an environment of non-believers, but I would quickly burn out without the sharing of a common hope with others. I treasure the conversations and prayers shared with friends and my husband.

Four years ago.

2008-10-08T09:48:00.001-05:00

Four years ago today, he took my hand in his for the first time.
Three years ago, we knew that we were meant for each other.
Two years ago, he put a ring on my finger and declared his intentions to the world.
One year ago, he made a covenant before God and man to honor, love, and protect me.

In high school, I had to write out a list of qualities for my future spouse.
Isn't it just like our Father to take our desires and surpass them beyond our wildest dreams?
He's better than I could have ever imagined.
He's my best friend.
I can't wait to see what the rest of our years holds.

Handprint of God

2008-10-06T17:26:00.001-05:00

One of my favorite musical artists is Jennifer Knapp. In her song, "Lay it down," she talks about having the handprint of God on the small of her back. I love this imagery. I am marked. I am claimed- I am spoken for. Even in the covered and unreachable, I am known.

I read this on John Piper's website, and it touched me profoundly:

Practical Compassion
When things seem hard, three truths conspire to give us peace: 1) God knows us perfectly; 2) God governs our lives and the world minutely; 3) God cares for us with fatherly concern. How does this comfort us if the sparrow still falls and if the enemy still kills the body? It doesn't, unless that mind is in us which was also in Christ.

When we have the values of Jesus, we will not need to be assured even of life on this earth. It will be enough to know that our Father in heaven loves us deeply, knows us fully, and governs us completely; and that, therefore, everything that befalls us is for our good. So don't be afraid of anything except unbelief.