Light the Oil

Often when I get the urge to write, it is because God has shown me something or reminded me of something in relation to where I am at that moment. I am a lifelong educator in our public schools in Texas and have always felt it is my calling. There are times when it is not an easy task and things seem like I am going through a dark tunnel trying to convince those around me to follow.

 Most of my career, I have had this sense of urgency to pour belief into others (students, parents, staff) until they finally believe in it themselves. The young lady who had never once passed a STAAR (state mandated) test, but I knew she could do it; I poured and poured and poured belief into her until she believed it and passed it for the first time in 9th grade. The young man that had such excellence inside him but was wrought with a family life that was unstable; I poured belief, and love, and hugs, and told him how proud of him I was at every step until he became proud of himself and believed he could break generational curses. Thousands of students have crossed my educational path in my career and there are so many stories. There have been parents at their wits' end with the teenage nonsense that does get better but feels like it will last forever. There have been colleagues that just felt like they were not making a difference and wanted to give up. There have been times when I have had to fight through stress, being completely exhausted, overwhelmed, and beaten down, and I have wanted to give up. But God keeps calling me back to this mission field. God keeps restoring my belief and my resolve to pour that belief into others. 

 I wish I could say that every story and every connection ended like these, but we all know that is not true. People give up. People sometimes don't believe; not in you' not in themselves. People can also be cruel and work against you for their own selfish reasons. However, the one thing I think that sabotages greatness more than anything else is the acceptance of what is in the moment; the lack of hoping or believing that anything greater even exists. We tend to look around and get comfortable with what is already there. And don't get me wrong, it is probably good, and at one time maybe even great. But we let it sit there and collect dust and cobwebs and say, " look what we have, when in fact it really is what we had and the shine is wearing thin, the excitement is fading, and the belief in greatness is dwindling. 

What is great in a moment is not necessarily what is great in the next moment. True greatness and excellence comes from continuing the pursuit, continuing the dream, continuing reaching for more, improving ourselves, and pouring belief into others. We must dust off the old and carry the torch into the dusty rooms to see the greatness.

 Currently, I am in a small district at the helm of a middle school campus that I dearly love. It is full of some of the most amazing kids you have ever met and they are hungry for greatness. It has a staff that wants to pour belief and love and hope into kids daily. We are not wealthy, but greatness is here. Excellence is here. Pride is here. Most of the families of our students are also hungry for greatness and excellence, but they've been through a lot and are nervous about the future. 

There are a lot of people in our community that have settled for the greatness of old and have stopped believing that new excellence or greatness is even an option. Our kids are so amazing. They want excellence, but they do not have any idea what that even means. We (educators, administrators, parents, students) are working hard to bring that desire and that drive to our campus and to our district.  Sometimes it feels like we are crawling through a very dark, scary tunnel, with spiders, and cobwebs, and people behind us telling us not to go there, but we know the light of greatness and excellence is just ahead, just under the dust if we are brave enough to push through. 

 While I was pondering the differing attitudes and the pervasive belief around me of being comfortable (almost complacent) with where we are, God reminded me of a scene of movie that my own daughters and I used to watch. In the movie, National Treasure (2004), Nicolas Cage is a treasure hunter and believes that he will find this amazing treasure if he continues the search. There are people who work against him throughout the entire movie. Some of them selfishly want the treasure for themselves and fight against his success at every turn. Some think that what he is doing is inherently wrong and therefore work to stop his pursuit of the treasure. Even his father has written him off as "crazy" and pleads with him to stop this pursuit. But he continues his quest, pouring his belief that there truly is treasure just around the next corner, through the next scary tunnel; that his search is not in vain.  He even rallies a few close supporters who work with him because he has poured his belief so strongly that they begin to believe as well. 

In the scene that God used to speak to me, Cage and his small group have survived near death experiences, have crawled through crypts and catacombs, discovered spiral staircases that are deteriorating and that go deep underground and finally entered a room of old treasures. It is a dusty, dark, cobweb-filled room with some really cool old treasures buried beneath the filth. Cage is carrying the torch to light the way so they can see the treasures around them. The team thinks they have reached the pinnacle and are so excited to have finally found what they were looking for, but they are missing the potential for excellence, just beyond their view. Cage is still looking around, still anticipating something even greater, and notices a vat of oil. Using the torch, he lights the oil to light up a treasure room beyond their imaginations.

We must continue the pursuit of greatness! Future generations are counting on us to light the oil for them, to pour belief into them, to show them that excellence is not something to be attained, but to pursue. We are charged with being torch bearers. There will be those who give up. There will be those who call us crazy. There will be those who fight against us for their own selfish reasons, but if we persevere, if we follow our calling, if we continue to show up and fight for those who are hungry for excellence, if we continue to lead with the torch, eventually we will be greeted with a vat of oil to light and the world will see the difference it makes. Do not give up. It may be dark. It may be scary. The treasure room is just ahead. Carry your torch high, pour your belief in others when they need it, and light the oil. 

 Blessed more than I deserve, Stephanie

Good Junk and Transformation

 

I was thinking about how God views us "down here" on Earth the other day while at the movies. (I still have that residual imprinted idea of  Heaven being "up" and Earth being "down here" and Hell being "way down below" left from childhood.) 

Movies have always been something that Trey and I enjoy together. Don't worry gentlemen, I am not usually the sappy, chick flick type. In fact, I really enjoy drama, suspense, mystery, and action movies. We haven't had the occasion to have a night out in a while, so the other day, Trey and I took advantage of our daughter having plans and went to watch Transformers: Age of Extinction. 

I'm not here to give my review of the movie or anything like that. I will say it was typical of the Transformers movies, with a new family and new pretty girl. The action and special effects were as good as always, so we enjoyed the movie. The funny thing is that there were several quotes in this movie as well as in the former movies that hit me with Biblical correlations. The one that just really stuck with me on this day was:

"I'm asking you to do what I do. I'm asking you to look at all the junk and see the treasure. You gotta have faith in who we can be." (Tranformers Age of Extinction 2014)

 

I just loved that wording, "look at all the junk and see the treasure." You see my Grandpa May was a collector of what he affectionately termed "good junk." He had a garage, house, barn, shed, and basement, full of anything from old fire hydrants to the original version of a hide-a-bed sofa to tools and so much more! He had rotting carcasses of his original Studebaker and a Mach 1 that were hidden by overgrowth and trees. My Grandpa saw treasure in the junk, a trait that was passed down at least three generations. 

 I have a few treasured items from the good junk piles. Grandma sent me a slaw shredder that my great grandmother brought from Germany to shred heads of cabbage on to make her coleslaw. I have a few old aprons and a bonnet and a cool tin pie pan, as well as a couple of old glass bottles. When we were cleaning things out after my Grandpa passed away, I found the title to his Studebaker and check stubs from his first teaching job of just a couple hundred dollars a month. I didn't keep all these things, but the treasure of each of them was not lost in my eyes. It was endearing to me to see things that he had kept, albeit a little overwhelming that he seemed to keep so much. I sensed the stack of junk before my eyes was a treasure of his yet to be unfolded. 

 

We live in a fallen world. We are faced daily with so much junk that sometimes, it is difficult to remember that human beings were created in the likeness of the creator. Turning on the television just this week, I am reminded of poverty and terrorism, impending war and hate crimes, crimes against children and elderly; it is overwhelming. Even more personal, on a weekly basis, I have dealt with hurt, betrayal, dishonesty, and just plain meanness. My initial craving is to respond in a way that is neither Christian nor lady-like. I am learning that these are opportunities for growth and learning. 

 

Somehow in the midst of the junk, God sees His treasure. He looks down and every heart that is His shines brighter than the junk in that person's life or the chaos that surrounds it.  Every heart that he is pursuing is a treasure untold and undiscovered. What if I had the same view of others? How would that change my worldview if I simply tried to see others as precious treasures instead of whatever it is that I am viewing them at the time?

 

The immature, annoying young lady who insists on using her body for attention would no longer irritate me, but I would see her as a treasure not yet polished. The person who lives a life that I feel is detrimental or against my beliefs would become a heart that God is chasing after and my heart would break in prayer for their rescuing instead of disdain for their entrapment. The rude, bitter woman at the checkout would become someone who needs to be shown an amazing love like my Savior's. The child whose mother was so desperate for him to have a chance at a better life, she thrust him into the hands of a stranger to take him to a destination unknown would be a treasure unfolded that God wants me to help. The homeless man who hasn't bathed in weeks would remind me of my own filth covered by the blood of Christ. The list could go on and on.

 Or let's get a little more personal. How about the friend who suddenly deleted me from Facebook with no reason, or the person at church that hurt me deeply and doesn't seem to care, the  family member who turned their back in my desperate time of need, the former boss who did not respect me, the kids from junior high school whose mean words still ring in my ears; they are all still treasures of God. Now, please don't misinterpret what I am saying as an insistence that all severed relationships should be restored completely. I believe that I can love others in spite of the hurt they have caused me only through God's grace and strength but that does not mean that I should disregard the common sense He gave me and allow the same relationship as before every time. Sometimes, the best thing for everyone involved is to love from afar; it is about not allowing the hurt caused to be the one thing you see when that person's name comes up in conversation. Instead you pray for God to work in their life and heart as well as your own. 

 I am personally working on learning to let God have the hurt and instead of immediately going to a place of hurt or anger when I see them, I am reminding myself that God treasures their hearts. If I want a heart like His, I must see the treasure he sees.

Matthew 6:21  "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

I need to rest in the awesome power of our God to change hearts, to grow people, and to love the unworthy. I mean, how much has He done all those things for me and how self-centered have I been thinking I somehow deserved it above someone else? God is endeared to us in the treasure hunt. Thank goodness, in the midst of my junk, he still sees the treasure beneath the grime and dust! I am not worthy of His gaze, much less his affection and yet I am chosen, I am loved as a princess of the most High God! If I am to understand even a smidgen of the enormity of that, then I must grasp the idea that I am not the only one! How can I disregard God's highest creation simply because of poor choices they have made; have I not made poor choices? He sees me in the midst of my chaos and finds the treasure buried by all the junk. But for the grace of God, I would be a rotting carcass lost in the weeds beneath a tree somewhere like those old cars my Grandpa had. 

God is sifting through the junk and finding the treasure that lies deep beneath the surface. I am working to be less critical of others and to let go of hurts from the past. I am eternally grateful that our God is continually working on me. 

 

Philippians 1:6

"For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus."

 Blessed More Than I Deserve,

Stephanie

When We Walk With the Lord...

I am not a runner. One look at the only pair of athletic shoes I have owned in the last 10 years should be enough to convince you of that statement as fact. Just in case though, I will repeat myself: I am not a runner.  Maybe I could be a runner or even should be a runner, but even when I was much thinner, pre-mommyhood, I have never really enjoyed running. That being said, I know a lot of runners. My sister-in-law loves to run and was recently lamenting over being sidelined due to an injury. My brother-in-law also runs "just for fun," a concept I have never quite grasped.  A friend I used to teach with would go to a math conference and stop along the way for a "scenic run" at some random location. (which I never understood) A friend from high school even has a facebook page all about running with her. I often joke that I will run in two scenarios: 1) if my child is hurt or needs me, I will become the Flash and 2) if I am being chased by something or someone incredibly terrifying with a weapon of mass destruction. Other than that, I am not a runner.

From the outside looking in, I envision running as a very personal time; a reflective time. Most people I know who run spend an inordinate amount of time getting their shoes just right, adjusting all the supportive gear and then setting the distance counter and getting the music ready. They usually pop in the headphones, look off into the distance with determined focus, and take off on a self-reflective, internal journey that is as equally about solitude as it is about being physically fit. They seem so focused on the run and not so much on whatever is around them. This seems to be especially true if they are in some sort of race or event.

Now walking, walking is different. Walking I can do! When people go walking, they often go together in pairs or groups and it is much different; more communal.  Even when people run "together" they really don't seem to do much talking, it appears to be more about a pace or an end goal. (Let's be real honest here, if I tried to talk while running, I would likely get a word in every six or seven huffing breaths and sound like Tarzan having a heart attack!) Now if you are a runner, and I am way off, please don't chastise me- this is just my take looking from the outside. When I try to pinpoint the difference between walking and running, I immediately have this idea or feeling that walking is more intimately connected with someone else where running is more introspective.

Maybe that is why there are so many old school gospel songs about walking with God. Being a music lover, I am also one of those weird people that will hear a phrase or see something and immediately the line to a random song pops out of my mouth. I've even been known to rewrite the lyrics in a goofy way to fit a certain circumstance, much to my daughter's embarrassment. Several popped into my head while contemplating the idea of walking with God.

"Just a closer walk with thee....grant it Jesus is my plea...daily walking close to thee...let it be dear Lord, let it be." 

" When we walk with the Lord, in the light of His Word, what a glory He sheds on our way..."

Or my very favorite (in Anne Murray's silky voice):

" ...and He walks with me and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own, and the love we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known."

I have sang many times in the past for various churches and at different events and one song that I used to love to sing was based on the scripture Isaiah 40:31.

" But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will mount up with wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not be faint." Isaiah 40:31 (NIV)

During the intro to the song, I would always quote this scripture so that the people hearing me sing would know where the song originated. Something about the way the verse read, however, always seemed strange to me. Why would someone only grow weary when they were running but would faint from walking? Why would walking even be listed with flying and running, which seem to be much more physical? Maybe I am just gifted with an incredibly strange mind, but this verse always struck me as oddly worded.

Fast forward to my current thoughts about walking versus running. In my time with the Lord today, I was given a little more insight about maybe why it is worded this way. It always seemed strange to me because I was thinking in the literal, physical sense and not in the spiritual heart sense of the scripture. In the Bible, there is verse after verse about walking with the Lord or in the light or by love and faith. Here are just a few:

Genesis 5:22, Genesis 6:9, Deuteronomy 10:12, Joshua 22:5, Jeremiah 7:23, Micah 6:8, 2Corinthians 6:16, Ephesians 5:2, John 8:12, John 11:9-10, Galatians 5:16, 1 John 1:6, 2 John 1:6, 3 John 1:3 and my favorite 3 John 1:4

 "I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth." 3 John 1:4 (NIV-emphasis mine)

If you take the time to look up and read these scriptures, you will see that "walking" is regularly used to describe our spiritual relationship with God and how we mete out this journey, so-to-speak, that is before us. Walking is used to intimate the connection we have to the Lord and by that connection in Him, the connection we have to one another. 

Likewise, there are also many scriptures that use the word "run" in them. Most are not metaphorical in their context until we get to Paul's writings of the New Testament. Paul used the terms "running the race" more than once to give the readers of his letters the visual concept of stretching, working and persevering for the sake of the gospel of Christ. Read for yourself the words of the apostle to those he cared deeply for and mentored:

1 Corinthians 9:24-26, Galatians 2:2, Galatians 5:7, Philippians 2:16, and Hebrews 12:1 (the author of Hebrews is unknown but thought by most to be the Apostle Paul)

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us" Hebrews 12:1 (NIV - emphasis mine)

Here is where my thoughts on Isaiah come to the forefront. If we look at the wording in Isaiah as a physical description of only growing weary while running, but growing completely faint from walking, the context is strange. However, if we switch gears and think spiritually, for me it shed a completely different light! What if "not growing weary" really means we will persevere spiritually in this race we are running; we won't give up or give in to entanglements of sin. We will retain a staunch focus on the end goal and become less aware of the struggles around us. If we place our hope (some versions say "trust" or "to wait on") we will be given the extra measure of grace and strength that allows us to continue to push through the tough times and the missteps and the drama that is here on this earth! Now that is something worth getting excited over! 

So what about that weird wording regarding walking and being faint? You may think I am silly, or that this should have been something a seasoned Christian would have realized a long time ago, but honestly, it just came to me today. I always took the verse in Isaiah to say that we will be able to handle life's ups and downs with God, which it does, but it is so much more intricately woven into scripture than just that simple concept. For a long time, the simplicity was enough for me, but I now crave a deeper understanding of the Word. 

In my reasoning, the wording " they will walk and not be faint..." is speaking completely about our hearts. God does not want our hearts to grow faint. His desire is that our heart beats strong and deliberately for him. He does not want us to grow bored with our relationship with him or to place it on the lower half of our "to do" list. He wants that relationship to grow and become stronger every minute of every day. He doesn't want the "flash in the pan" type of relationship with us. The scary part, for me at least, is that it is our responsibility to build the relationship between God and ourselves. He has already laid out everything and will always be standing there waiting, willing and ready to complete the work, but we have to determine to do the work. 

When Trey and I walk together, despite the main idea being to be healthier and in better shape, we usually hold hands, it is just natural for us. (Truth be told, we hold hands a lot and I love it!) Walking with my husband is very intimate, personal and enjoyable. It is not something I have to persevere at doing. It is a time, that afterwards, I feel more closely connected to my husband than before; more bonded. It is spending time together even for just a few minutes with no agenda, no list, no ulterior motive, no drama, no end goal other than to get back to the house, the starting point, together.

How much could we strengthen our connection to our Savior by simply walking with Him like that; even just once a day? I don't mean doing a lesson in your Bible study because you don't want the girl beside you on Wednesday night to see how blank your pages are. I don't mean going to God in desperate prayer because you need a situation to be settled or healing for a loved one. I don't even mean singing to a favorite praise song that comes on the radio. I don't mean reading the online devotional and skimming through the scriptures because you feel guilty if you don't. I am talking about a deliberate, planned, no agenda, no ulterior motive, no end goal other than to get back to our starting point, our first love, of our walk together.

 I think our walk would be much improved. I think our hearts would beat for our Savior loud and clear. I think our relationship with Him would improve. Don't get me wrong, I think we should still sing spontaneous praises to him. I think we should definitely bring him our heartfelt pleas for help and deliverance. I think we should do our Bible studies or devotions and if it is out of pure selfish desire to not look bad or from guilt, then I think God can use that time to speak to our hearts regardless. I am just saying that hanging out with God, talking to Him about everything, placing your hope and trust in Him,  holding His hand, that is when you will fall in love and your heart will not grow faint. 

So, I am challenging every person who reads this blog to try it for a month (30 days). Set a specific time and length of time to walk with God daily. It could be 5 minutes or an hour, whatever you decide. Choose something that is a bit scary, but at the same time not ridiculously out of reach. This is a time to grasp God's hand until it becomes natural. (The first time Trey and I ever held hands was pretty awkward, but now it is just the easiest, most natural thing for us to do.) You can have a devotional or several different ones, play some praise music, spend time in prayer or just quietly and earnestly listen for Him to show you something. I don't want to tell you what to study or read or pray about, because I am not an expert in all those things. I can only tell you that the scriptures are His intimate letter to you and if you've never read them at all, 1 John is a beautiful place to start. I love James, and the letters of Paul to the Colossians and to Timothy. Honestly there are so many places, but those are good starting places in my opinion. Just pick something and see what He says to your heart through it! I would love to hear how the 30 days are going and what you have learned along the way, so please leave me a comment occasionally! I am also committed to these 30 days, so I need your encouragement as well!

One last thing before I complete this post. If Trey and I don't take a walk one night, our love for each other doesn't immediately fall away. We just walk another time, another day; no huge dramatic guilt trip needed! Please do not beat yourself up to the point that you never step back on the path; that is counterproductive and nothing more than Satan's attempts to steal your testimony. Don't let him have the opportunity. Your testimony is the only thing he is after and he can only steal it if you hand it over. We have a duty to protect our relationships and the ultimate relationship of Savior to saved requires our utmost attention. 

So who is with me? 30 days starts now! Either comment below that you are determined to a daily walk this month or go to my facebook page and comment there. I want us to encourage and give accountability to one another! I will continue to try to post once a week whatever God lays on my heart. Thank you so much for your support and love!

Blessed more than I deserve,

Stephanie

srieper89@gmail.com
www.facebook.com/heartiscrossed

The Awakening

The other night I awoke with a start around 3 am, and sat up on the edge of the bed. As I was sitting there, trying to get my bearings, something slapped across my thigh, feeling heavy and cold, but unrecognizable. It took me a little while to realize it was my own arm! It was basically paralyzed. Apparently the way I had been laying had cut off the circulation to the brachial artery and my arm was completely numb from about mid-triceps down - so numb that I could not even tell I was touching my own leg! I tried to move my hand (and thought I was moving it) but it really was not responding at all. So I sat there for a few minutes, wanting a drink of water, but not sure whether to just go back to sleep and forget it or try to revive my right arm.

And then I felt it! Oh my goodness, the sharp, stinging of a million needles all at once centered around my wrist as I had moved my leg and my wrist had bumped it. Suddenly, I just wanted to hold my arm as still as possible to avoid the inevitable pain that was coming. As I sat there, needing to get up, but not wanting to move, I was faced with the decision to just wait for feeling to return to my arm, help it along to get it over with, or just hold it as still as possible and hope I could go back to sleep. I opted for the "rip the band aid off" approach.

I started using my left hand to move my right arm. (which in itself is very awkward) Oh my goodness the pain that ensued! You would think having two children, I wouldn't be such a wimp, but there is something excruciating about those moments when feeling returns to a limb that is asleep, if you know what I mean. I could literally feel the blood start pumping through my arm and as it traveled down my arm, leaving in its wake razor-sharp needle stabs of pain. I needed to get it over with, so I began shaking my arm like crazy. Good thing my husband is such a deep sleeper, because he probably would have thought I was being attacked by a squirrel or something, the way I was sitting there shaking out my arm! I shook and twisted and banged my arm against my leg or other arm all the while taking gasps of breath from the crazy shooting pains.

It had to be at least 15 minutes of lots of pain and writhing before it finally started to subside into a dull ache.(okay, maybe it was just 5 minutes but it sure felt longer!) At that point,  I started making a fist repeatedly to get my fingers to work again by pumping blood back into them (like they do when you give blood). Gradually my hand did not seem like it was a swollen, useless mess, but felt more normal.  I sat there recovering for a minute, almost scared to move. I think I was afraid it secretly was asleep again and if I moved, it would all start over again. Eventually, I got up, grabbed a drink of water using my newly revived right hand, and headed back to bed. As I laid down, (very carefully to be sure my arm was not tucked under me this time), a thought struck me about how similar this silly event was to where I had been spiritually lately. God ever-so-gently gave me a nudge to write again for the first time in quite a while. 

You see I love God and I love getting to know all about Him. I've known Him for a long time as my personal Savior, but I am not sure I treasured the relationship for a long time. In my Spiritual walk, I have had the many ups and downs; obvious hills and valleys of life. There have been times when I have been so close to God that I felt his breath over me and there have been times that I have moved away from Him to do my own thing (always to come running back). There have even been times where I longed to feel His presence but instead I just felt lost and confused and it took a while for me to find Him in the midst of the mess. But lately, for the last few months, I have just sort of been dull; not really close to Him, not really moving away from Him. I have been involved in a regular Bible study but have not really been pouring myself into it. I am still serving at my church and attending regularly, but mostly because that is just what I do; what I've always done. What I have not been is very connected to the relationship that I know is a vital part of my life. It is as though I have been asleep; maybe a bit numb, even possibly starting to be cut-off from the main artery.  I am not sure if you can relate at all, but I am hoping I am not the only one out there. I haven't been terrible or doing anything I would consider to be detrimental, but on the flip side, I have not been doing anything helpful or working toward building my relationship with Christ. 

Here is where God enlightened me to the connection. If we stay disconnected for any length of time, we become numb, almost paralyzed, to His work in our lives and the lives around us. It may not even be intentional. I did not set out to lay in such a way that my arm would fall asleep, but I did happen to be in a certain position and did not move from that spot, or wake up before it was numb. He cannot use a numb/ paralyzed Christ follower like He longs to do. He loves us and wants to be able to use us for the work we are designed to do, therefore He must "wake" us up! 

Trust me, an awakening is not always pleasant! In fact it is often full of sharp pains and stabs of conviction. He will use circumstances, people or whatever is around us to make staying still in our paralyzed state more painful and uncomfortable than the alternative; He wants it to be impossible for us to stay in that numb state.  Sometimes, God will even shake us violently and what seems to be uncontrollably in order to get the blood flowing again...the saving, precious blood that was given freely for our sins by His Son! 

In the midst of that awakening, I can honestly say I have wanted to cry out in pain. There have been times that I felt like the twists and turns, frustrations and disappointments, were so overwhelming that I thought things would never be "normal" again. And then the awful sharp pains gave way to a dull ache as He began to clench His fist tightly around my heart to get the blood flowing again. Before I know it, all becomes right again and I am ready to be used for the work He has specially designed just for me! I just have to be careful not to "lie down" in the same way as before and become numb to His will in my life. 

That night, I knew God was telling me that I had better move myself before it got to the point that He needed to shake me awake. I smile now thinking of the image of me flopping around while God shakes the blood back into me. I know God has big plans to use me for His Kingdom. I don't know what those are, but I know I can't become dull, numb and disconnected, or I will miss opportunities to be closer to Him and to be used by Him. 

Romans 13: 

11 Do this, knowing the time, that it is already the hour for you to awaken from sleep; for now [g]salvation is nearer to us than when we believed. 12 The night is almost gone, and the day is near. 

and 

II Corinthians 4:

 7 But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourselves;

It is the hour for us to awaken from sleep through the power of God! I am excited to see how God uses His power to further His Kingdom and how He generously allows me to participate! All I need to do is stay "awake" and focus on my relationship with Him.

Blessed More Than I Deserve,

Stephanie

Lessons from Autumn

My family has always loved animals and we have had at least one pet for as long as I can remember, usually more than one. For several years we have had two miniature dachshunds. Ginger is about 11 years old and Jacob is about 4 years old. In January this year, Trey and Kaitlyn came home with the newest member of our family. She was a beautiful, terrified, nameless six month-old puppy with the saddest eyes you have ever seen. For hours she sat in the same spot and shook while the four of us tried to make her feel safe and at home as we debated on the perfect name for her. We finally settled on the name Autumn based on her brindle coloring. I will say, the term "puppy" is a little deceptive though. Autumn is half lab and half Great Dane and at six months, her paw filled my palm! She was the biggest puppy we had ever had and made our little dogs seem even smaller!




We immediately fell in love with this gentle giant. It wasn't long that we realized that she had many fears and neuroses. It took us a couple of weeks to teach her to respond to her name and to assure her that she need not cower when we would reach to pet her. She is now a little over a year old, and probably around 70 pounds, maybe more. She is such a great addition to our family and best friends with our little dachshund, Jacob. For the most part, we have worked through her fears, although some surface occasionally. She is afraid of loud sounds like the lawn mower, the vacuum or when you shake out a trash bag. She also takes a little longer to warm up to men or loud children than women. Usually with her fears, she tries to get into one of our laps or hide behind us. Just this week, a street sweeper drove down our road and she blind-sided me trying to get into a "safe" place away from the frightening sound.



There is one fear we have been working on since we first brought Autumn home: her fear of going out through the front door and walking on a leash. Now I know you are thinking that we should be glad she won't go out the front door, but this is much more than simply not going out the door. For the first five months, she would not even go near the front door if it was open and would have a complete panic attack if we carried her out to the front yard! She loves going out in the backyard and playing with our other dogs, doing normal dog things. (they play tag with the squirrels quite a bit.), but the front yard made her breathe harder, cower, whine and even get sick! Finally, Kaitlyn coaxed her out to the steps one day and then we worked our way out to the yard. We continue to work on this and she has even become more comfortable in the front yard, but she will not stay for long and has a meltdown if we shut the door preventing her from running back inside.

 

The frustrating thing for us about this particular fear is that we want to take her on walks with us. She wears a collar just fine. We even got her a harness that she seems to like. Now that we have convinced her to go outside, we thought maybe we could get her to walk two houses down to our friend's house and then back. (We are trying little successes at a time; baby steps.) It did not take long to realize the walk was not going to happen. She would drag the leash around without any problem, but the instant she felt resistance because Trey or I was holding the leash, she became the most out-of-control panicked animal with a wild, terrorized look in her eyes. Now I want you to picture this: a 70 pound dog doing the crocodile death roll in our front yard to try to get away from the dreaded leash that is attached to her collar at the nape of her neck! She rolled so fast and so forcefully that Trey literally had to tackle her and hold her down to keep her from choking herself! Luckily he had dropped his end of the leash fairly quickly or it might have even severed his hand! The leash was so tightly wound around her body and neck that it took both of us working to get it off of her while holding her still without hurting her. The minute she felt free and saw the door opened, she made a dash for the safety of the living room. It almost brought me to tears to see how terrified she was of that leash.

I was thinking about her irrational fear the other night and was struck by the most amazing question: I wonder how often God feels the same frustration with me?

Let that sink in just a moment and think about it with this perspective:

 All we want to do is to enjoy a walk with Autumn; to spend some quality time with her in the world. We love our dog. We want her to be protected from injury or from being lost to us so in our love for our dog, we need her to be on a leash to enjoy walking together. We also want to be sure she doesn't go to places where she could get into trouble. The leash is a method of discipline, a guide to help her know the boundaries that are best for her. Even if she did walk on the leash, it would never be used as punishment. If she wanted to pull it out of our hands, she is definitely strong enough to do so. Of course so far, she has yet to understand these concepts and doesn't connect and trust our love for her enough yet to overcome her fears of the leash with obedience.If she ever does, I think she will really enjoy the walk with us.

What an amazing parallel to our Savior! How many times is He trying to help us out by giving us the proper harness or leash to connect us to His hand and we begin the proverbial crocodile death roll? Even more personally, how many times has God had to "tackle" me to the ground to get my attention and then carefully try to help me untangle the mess I've made? We must be connected to God in order to walk with Him. We need His protection to walk out in this world, and with that protection we can enjoy the walk and see things we have never seen before, and yet we continue to roll; we continue to panic. At least I know I have done my own version of the death roll. Succumbing to the tight grip of fear about what in the world God is trying to do to me when in actuality He is trying to do something through me instead.  It's as though I do not trust Him at all! My mind races, questioning : "What kind of protection is this 'leash' He is placing on me?" I even fall victim to the whining and irrational behavior, and I have known God's love for a lot longer than Autumn has known ours. Not to mention, how much more does God love me than I love my dog? I wonder does His heart break when He sees how terrified I am to truly walk with Him in obedience?

Exodus 33:13 (NIV)
If you are pleased with me, teach me your ways so I may know you and continue to find favor with you. Remember that this nation is your people.”

As I thought this all over, it made me shake my head in astonishment that God never gives up on me. That what I view as a punishment so often is more of a hand of protection or simply loving guidance. The biggest realization is that I am falling short of doing my part to make the walk what it was meant to be. I know I do not read His word enough. I know I do not talk to Him enough. I know I do not praise Him enough. I know I do not share Him enough. 

I have to do my part if I want the walk. I also have to get out the front door at some point and yes, even off of the steps! I have to trust that God's ways are best even if I do not understand them and then I must act on that trust; running back to my safe zone just won't cut it. I want an obedient walk with my Master.
 Proverbs 3:5-6 (NIV)
Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.

So I am working to memorize more of the Word. I am definitely stepping out of my comfort zone by writing this blog. (I don't know if you know this, but I teach Algebra, not English, so writing is just something I enjoy doing.) I am also trying to view circumstances in my life in a different, less fearful way. I have added the three verses from this post to my memorization list for the week. I pray that I have found favor in my Savior's eyes and that He will teach me His ways so that I may walk with Him and by all means that my paths will be straight!

In our neighborhood, lots of people walk their dogs successfully. I do not know all their names or the names of their dogs, but if a dog ever wandered into my yard, I would probably know to whom it belonged. The little white poodle belongs to the grandmother across the street. The friendly galloping Wiemaraner belongs to the young couple down the street with three little boys. The old, calm blue heeler belongs to little elderly man who walks with a cane. The German shepherd belongs to the young mother with the red stroller and little boy. You see, I recognize characteristics of the owners or masters and I recognize the dogs. Again, what a wonderful parallel! I can only hope that as I walk through this life, the hand of my Master guiding me is so evident that even those who do not know Him and do not know me would know to whom I belong.

Psalm 25:4 (NIV)

⁴ Show me your ways, Lord,
teach me your paths. 

Thank you Lord for never giving up on me! Thank you for loving me enough to discipline me in a way to protect me and to allow me to become closer to you! Your consistent love and faithfulness never ceases to amaze me! Thank you for granting me insight to you through the animal you have entrusted to my care. Help me to remember to look for you in everyday moments as much as in the miracles. Thank you again for loving your children more than we could ever comprehend.   Amen

We are still working with our beloved Autumn to overcome her fear of the leash, or of walking on the leash, or whatever her fear actually is. We hope that by continuing to show her our love and a safe and consistent environment, she will learn to trust us even in a situation that causes her such terror. We have not been successful yet, but we are never going to give up. Hopefully someday soon I can post a photo of Autumn walking with us!

Blessed more than I deserve,

        ~Stephanie
srieper89@gmail.com
https://www.facebook.com/heartiscrossed

When the door opens..or cracks a little

Seinfeld was in my opinion, one of the great comedic television shows of the 90's. My favorite part of the show was always how Kramer always made his entrance: the door flings open and he slides in looking all disheveled and the rest of the cast is always surprised to see him. Here is a little 10 second clip about what I am talking about for those of you who never saw an episode (notice the brick phone hahaha!)

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HjgdTgdgDD4

I was thinking about how great an entrance Kramer made over and over again on that show last night while I was thinking about my blog post about the hallways of life. Wouldn't it be awesome if while we are sitting in the hallway, God just burst through the door and slid across the floor right to us and just stood there with one arm pointing so we knew exactly what to do? I guess occasionally He does open the door to the next step like that, but usually it is more of a crack and we have to make a move to push it all the way open. Just thinking about my some of reactions in times when God was ready for me to take the next step had me chuckling at how infantile I can be and yet also brought me shame for how I had treated my Savior. Praise God for His forgiveness and grace and that covers all my faults and missteps.

In my life, there have been times when more than one door has opened and I had to decide because God was pleased with either and could do His work regardless of which I chose. I don't know about you, but decisions stress me out. We are that family that gets in the car and Trey asks, "Where do y'all want to eat?"... silence... or maybe "I don't care." (knowing full well that if we choose a certain place it will be vetoed by the very person who doesn't care.) I will usually list a few options and then more silence. This is beyond frustrating to my poor husband who is stuck driving around town in circles until someone decides. Now granted, he doesn't decide either, so I guess he is part of the indecisive problem too. Eventually, we figure something out and go get something to eat. (we never go hungry that is for sure) Often the decision is made after someone gets fed up (no pun intended) and says "Just pick a place so I know where you need me to go!" God, I am certain, has felt that same way about me before. I can hear Him saying "Just pick one!" Why in the world does it always have to be so complicated for me?

There are other times, however (and more often), where there is not a choice between doors, but a choice to move or stay. You see so often, we get comfortable and convince ourselves that the hallway of life is the best place to be; the safest place. While I cannot argue that it is a safety zone, I can tell you that the "best" is not in that hallway. You see while we are waiting, God is getting things ready for us. He is preparing the way, setting the stage for us to step out of our comfort zone and impact His kingdom for eternity. Most people, including myself,  tend to like things that stay the same. Did you know that the word "stay" and "stagnant" are based from the same root? Stagnant: characterized by lack of development, advancement or progressive movement. Not a great thing to be and yet often we make a conscious choice to remain in the hallway; stagnant. 

Sometimes when we just won't move, God will force the move on us, kicking and screaming even. You know I am a bit of a story-teller, and thinking about that image reminded me of one of those parenting moments when I wish I could become invisible. I was at HEB ( a local grocery store) with the girls, then 8 and 4. Kaitlyn was supposed to go to her friend's house that day but we had not yet been able to reach them. As we were shopping, we ran into her friend, Caity and her mom Donna. Since we were both there, Kaitlyn just decided to hang out with them and go to their house from the store. Now, Amanda was enamored with Caity at that time and wanted to always do everything her big sister did, much to the irritation of my oldest. I explained that Kaitlyn was going to hang out with Caity but left out the part about her going home with her. We finished up our shopping and got into line. Here is where things got out of hand. Amanda figured out pretty quickly that her sister was not joining us and asked why. When I answered her, it was like I had unleashed a mighty monster in the small form of my 4 year old daughter! She began jumping up and down in the basket, screaming and crying that she wanted to go too! I was stuck in the middle of about three or four shoppers in the line for the number 3 register (yes I remember the number) and my mind was racing about how to deescalate the situation. Well, let's just say, Amanda is extremely strong-willed, and there would be no deescalation going on as long as she was not going to Caity's house. All eyes were on me in our small-town grocery store, and there were a lot of them! SO I sheepishly looked at the cashier, told her that I was sorry, picked my screaming, kicking, wailing daughter up like I was carrying a large sack of dog food and left my basket, all our groceries and walked out, feeling the eyes of disgrace as a mom follow me all the way out. I was mortified. I was also pretty angry. We got out side and Amanda (who is being held by her waist at my waist and is face-down) had calmed down to just tears, and less of a show. I sat her on her feet, still grasping tightly to my intense child. I looked at her and said, "Now, I will let you walk if you will hold my hand, but there are cars and you cannot let go because it is not safe." She nodded her agreement, so I grabbed her tiny clenched fist and took a step. Well, I am not sure if I was not speaking her language, but apparently she heard me say "dart out in front of the first car you see. I am your evil mother and you need to break free of my grasp!" because she immediately jerked away and started for the edge of the sidewalk! I hastily ran to her and snatched her back into the dog food position and she commenced to screaming and kicking again. Now not only were the eyes of the entire store on me, but the eyes of the entire parking lot as well. I luckily parked close to the entrance, so I made it to the car and opened the front driver's seat and sat her down. I had to block the door because she was intent on finding Caity and ditching me as quickly as possible. I told her to climb in the back and buckle up. (I drove a minivan and the handle of the sliding door had come off in my hand a few weeks prior, so she was used to climbing through and getting into her booster seat and buckling up.) Can you believe this little angel of mine, who had stopped screaming and was eerily calm, looked and me and said defiantly, "NO!" I was stunned. I thought we were past the temper tantrum, through with the humiliation, and here I stood, a full-grown woman who could not even get into her own car because her four-year-old refused to move! She smiled and said, "I'm not moving unless I get to go to Caity's!" So for the next several minutes we "talked", we discussed punishments and discipline for her actions, we might have even issued a few right there with everyone watching, and eventually she did as she was told and we made it home with nothing to show for our trip except one less child and a worn out mom. 

Kaitlyn and Caity (Ages 3 and 4)

Kaitlyn and Amanda (Ages 8 and 4)

I tell you this story, first of all hoping you do not judge my parenting too badly based on the actions of my child of four. (She has made it all the way to 15 now and is a beautiful, still very strong-willed, child.) I tell it hoping to paint a picture of how I know I have acted to God when He has a plan for me to do something and I just do not want to do it. Maybe I want the same plan as _____ (fill in the blank) and I pitch a fit because that seems like the perfect plan for me! Wow, do I look like an ungrateful toddler who is pitching the fit of all fits to our God? Are people looking at my Lord with disdain because of my fit-throwing, my tantrum, my lack of respect for my father in heaven? Am I like a stubborn four-year-old who refuses to budge? Unfortunately, too often, I have to say yes to every one of those questions. Even more unfortunate, God has to drag me out to where He wants me to be, often in an embarrassing position, and I am too wrapped up in my fit-throwing to notice that I could be putting myself in harm's way. I have had to beg forgiveness more than once for making my Father look bad because as His child, I acted just like this. So not only did I miss out on the blessing of walking into a new opportunity when God wanted me to, but I potentially harmed my witness in the process and made Him look bad for my actions! A lot like Jonah when he ran off, paid for a boat ride and tried to run from God! I think we often read or hear the story of Jonah and think 'he is just silly' or 'how can you run from God', when we too are so guilty of the same if not worse. 

Jonah 1:3 " But Jonah ran away from the Lord..."

Then there are those times when we are a little more passive about our defiance. No screaming, no kicking, no running into traffic, we just try to quietly say "no" or sneak our refusal in without making a scene. Indulge me for a minute with another fun story correlation from the files of parenting Amanda. 

This had to be close to the same time as the former recollection. Amanda was probably already five by now, and apparently had learned that tantrums will not reward her with her desired outcome. She was about to start school for the first time and in getting ready for kindergarten, we had purchased her supplies, and school clothes and organized her drawers and closets to make for easier mornings. Being the younger sister, Amanda had lots of extra clothes that were passed on from her sister, so she was ready. 

One day I was working around the house and noticed that Amanda had been mysteriously quiet. In my experience with her, quiet was not always a blessing, so I went to check on her. I walked into her room and saw her proudly standing with her closet bi-fold doors open wide and a neat stack of dresses laying across the foot of her bed. Not completely sure what was going on, I stepped closer and realized she was standing with her right hand behind her back. Mother's intuition (common sense) kicked in and I asked what she was hiding. Triumphantly, she brings her fist around to the front to show me the broad line permanent black marker missing the lid that was firmly grasped in her hand. Oh crap! With that, I closed the distance and hesitantly looked at the situation, carefully checking the closet doors and walls for my child's creative mark of the day. Eventually my eyes went to the stack of dresses. I was astonished! You know the mouth-open, silent, mind-spinning, astonished that you can't even think of what to say or do. I looked back and forth between her happy brown eyes and the top dress, a sweet white and sage dress that her sister had worn last Easter. She smiled, looked up and said sweetly, " I don't want to wear the dresses to school." You see, she had decided to make her mark by taking the marker (permanent marker) and across the front of at least 10-15 dresses she wrote two perfectly formed six inch letters:

NO

As I picked each dress up, my astonishment grew. I was angry, but at the same time I found it a little funny and had to suppress a chuckle as I was getting onto her for writing on her clothes. There were two dresses I was heartbroken over and I immediately told her to get the hairspray and worked to get out the thick black words. Amazingly, I did not react as poorly as I usually did and in a rare stroke of parenting genius, I handed down an impactful discipline; she wore them the first week of school "NO" and all. (sweet revenge) To this day though, I think she is proud that she took matters into her own hands with her fashion choices as a young kindergartener.

You see sometimes we try to sneak away and write "NO" across the beautifully cleaned and laid out plans God has for us. Not a blatant temper tantrum so much, but an assertion that we disagree with His choice. How ridiculous of us to think our choices are better than His! I think about when The Children of Israel were in the desert and Moses was supposed to lead them into the Promised Land, but he didn't want to follow God's plan and disobeyed God in front of all of them. The sealed his fate as the leader of the Isrealites; he died in the desert and they were led by Joshua instead. God meted out a discipline for Moses' blatant disobedience. OUCH...

 Numbers 20:12 "But the Lord said to Moses and Aaron, “Because you did not trust in me enough to honor me as holy in the sight of the Israelites, you will not bring this community into the land I give them.”

You see, God will sometimes throw the door open in an exciting  Kramer-like way making it easy to jump through the door. Sometimes He will allow us to chose between more than one opportunity. Then there are the times when we know what He wants, and we react in a negative way, either in a full-blown grocery-store tantrum or a more passive, quiet writing the word "NO". When our initial response is "no", God may drag us there, complete with discipline and lots of conversations, or God may find a Joshua to replace us and just let us stay in the hallway (or die in the desert) if that is really what we want. Wow, how scary is that? Similar to my last post, I urge you to step out in faith, trust that He is way smarter than we are and just go for it! God doesn't usually pick things that are solidly in our comfort zone because He wants you to see what He can do through you once you get out of the way. So here's to fewer HEB and permanent marker moments and to more deep breaths of trusting the One who breathed life into my being to know more than I! 

Proverbs 3:5-6 " Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him and he will direct your paths."

Romans 15:13 "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit."

Blessed more than I deserve

~Stephanie

srieper89@gmail.com

https://facebook.com/heartiscrossed

Organized Chaos: Can He Even See Me?

When Kaitlyn was in High School, she was part of our school's swim team. Her sophomore year was our first introduction to swim meets. If you have never attended one of these incredibly chaotic events, let me try to describe it from a parent's perspective.

First of all, swim season runs from about September to February so many of the meets are during cold weather. Kaitlyn of course rode to the meet on the team bus and Trey and I would travel the hour or more to the meet together, arriving with a couple hundred other parents and family. We were bundled up for the cold weather outside while walking up to the door of the natatorium. (until this point, I had no idea that an aqua center was called that) We would walk in, pay for our entry, and make our way to the pool viewing area. The moment we entered the pool area, my breath was taken away, not because of the awesome sight I beheld, but literally because I could not breathe! The air was heavy and hot, similar to a sauna or steam room and the chlorine in the air was so strong that it burned your eyes and nose. (Don't forget, we were wearing our winter coats, jeans and long-sleeved shirts, so, the un-layering quickly began!)

On top of the air restriction, the noise was deafening! There was always this weird echo effect, as though you were in a cave or something. Student swimmers would be walking all around the pool in their Speedos and racing suits (very awkward moments for a teacher that they all ran up to hug and say "Hi Mrs. Rieper!) and many of them had in their headphones. They all had this weird black marking on their forearm, like a tribal tattoo or something.


I am not exactly sure what each number means, but I know it was a cipher of their individual events. The noise level and crowds of people were always a little overwhelming. The "announcer" was about as audible as Charlie Brown's teacher, but somehow every time the loudspeaker squawked "Muah muah, muah mauh muah lane muah muah muah"  (usually followed by feedback squeals from the microphone) swimmers started shuffling around and lined up, ready for their race. It was and still is the most amazing example of organized chaos that I have ever witnessed. During the races, there would be cheering and coaching, and encouraging and splashing...oh my goodness it was loud in there!

As parents, we would be sitting, peering over the rails trying to catch a glimpse of our daughter. In the midst of all that chaos and craziness, it was like we had a built in homing device for our daughter and could spot her even when we were not sure what in the world is going on all around them. Often she looked exactly like the other girls around her, but there would always be something that told us that she was ours. Seeing her with her team, talking to friends always made me smile. She was in her one-piece racing suit and had waist-length hair wadded up under a rubber swim cap, but she was always so beautiful and we would just watch her. You see at a swim meet, she would have one, maybe two races that lasted less than just a few minutes each  (of the often 6-8 hour event) and were of course scattered within the other races, so we just sat there. Occasionally, we would watch another race or root for a former student that swam on her team, but more often, we spent time asking each other, "Where's Kaitlyn? When is her next race? I wonder if she is nervous. Do you think she saw us?" You see, the key here is that she is our daughter. We treasure her and her younger sister Amanda. They are precious and priceless to us. 

Similarly, I am God's precious daughter; priceless. He looks down from the balcony seats and the Bible says:

II Chronicles 16:9 "For the eyes of the LORD move to and fro throughout the earth that He may strongly support those whose heart is completely His."

He is searching the whole earth to strongly support his children! What a promise! In the midst of all of our chaos, craziness and deafening noises, He is searching me (and you) out to support me! I am a precious daughter of God! That verse should give so much hope to anyone who feels like they are in the midst of chaotic times. God has his own version of the swim meet tattoo; He tattoos our hearts as his when we make him our Lord and Savior; master of our lives. He even gives us a manual to help decipher what the tattoo really means; it is up to us to take the time to read and figure it all out. One of my favorite verses is Joshua 1:8.

"Keep this Book of the Law (the Bible) always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful."

Notice that our prosperity and success is directly related to the Word of God; what a challenge. I pray daily that God will give me a love for the scriptures so much that I would not want to put it down; that I would write them in my memory and in my heart. I pray that He would open my eyes and mind to teach me His ways and His words that I might live better for Him. Reading the Bible regularly has always been a struggle of mine and I want to be more disciplined in this area. Whatever the area for you is, ask God to place that desire in your heart to make it better; and not just a one-time desire, but a continual desire to be stretched and to grow. 

God is searching to and fro to see you and support you, his precious child, in the midst of the chaos.  I cling to this promise! Even in the chaos of my life, even when I can't see Him or feel Him, or feel like I must just blend in with everyone else around me, He sees me. He supports me. He is there to guide, comfort, love, and give me a prosperous life (on His terms.) Please don't mistake what I am saying for the "prosperity gospel." God's idea of a prosperous life may or may not include the things that we view as prosperous here on earth. May my heart be completely His and through that, may He make me prosperous for His glory and His Kingdom.

Blessed more than I deserve,
Stephanie