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31st Day

My 31 day challenge has come to a close.

I'll miss this. I've been inspired to think, to remember things and explore ideas that have been floating around in my head. I've enjoyed the conversations that started. I've looked forward to seeing how many people are reading--so many more than I would ever guess! I loved watching one post get picked up by Tim Challies and go around the world.

I've realized that I had a lot more in common with friends than I knew. I've felt like, in small ways, God was using me. I've enjoyed applying my mind for more than trying to guess why the baby is crying. I've poured out my heart. I've written things for my kids. I've loved every minute.

I'll be lauching a new blog in a few days. I don't know if I'll be able to write every day. But, I want to try to keep this routine going. I think it's good for me.

Most days when I sit down to write I stare at the blank screen with no clue what I will say. But, something always comes to me. And God has spoken to my heart through my own words. That seems wierd. But, it's true. I don't know how to explain that. But, I feel closer to Him after this month.

Thank you, all of you who have read. You have blessed me.

I Did It My Way

I have a tendency to do things the hard way.

When I try to do something, whether I'm cooking or cleaning or crafting or sewing or just doing regular everyday things that must be done, I take the most moutainous, treacherous, dark and lonely path to accomplish the task. It's generally because I don't have the proper tools, ingredients, or materials.

And the reason I don't have those things is because I'm cheap.

Yes, I said it. I don't just appreciate a bargain, I revel and wallow in a bargain. I just wait for people to compliment my clothing so I can tell them how little I paid for it. I feel giddy when I outsmart other people who are paying "too much." I wear contact lenses for six months that are meant to be worn for two weeks. (And, by the way, the rest of you are getting ripped off because they can TOTALLY go six months. With only the occasional eye infection.) I'm using blush that broke apart a year ago (the crumby pieces work fine), wearing shoes that hurt my feet (they were on clearance), and waited until I was on the verge of pneumonia to go spend $25 at the doctor the last time I was sick. My kids know that if we're not at Goodwill, we will shop the 70% off rack. But, that's only really exciting if there's an extra 40% off. I'm telling you, it's a sickness.

So, I'm making my own Halloween costumes and it's been difficult because I bought just a little less fabric than the pattern called for, a little less trim, just knowing that I would somehow fudge the numbers to make it all add up in the end. My scissors won't cut, I'm working with ten straight pins, and I wouldn't buy the $7 pattern cutting board that would've made this task so much easier. And, I've waited until the day before.

See what I mean? The hard way. The cheap way. It's my way.

But, I suppose in some sense I am trying to make up for the fact that I don't work outside the home. My cheapness keeps money in the family account. And it just makes me happy in some strange, twisted way.

The next time you see those cute Justice jeans on Adelade, keep in mind that they didn't come from that adorably overpriced spot in the mall. They came from Goodwill. And, if these costumes turn out cute, appreciate how much sheer determination went into making them without the proper materials.

And if my eyes look a little red the next time you see me, just keep in mind that I do things the hard way.

The Political Post

Political seasons are interesting.

Political seasons since Facebook and Twitter are just downright fascinating.

I guess in the past people really didn't have a platform for broadcasting their political views. All they could do was give speeches or talk about it around the water cooler. Now all you have to do is type a sentence or two and hundreds of people that you know or used to know or have never even met get a clear picture of who you're voting for and which issues matter to you. I've seen lots that I agree with and some that has shocked me and a few that have just made me roll my eyes. We try so hard, don't we?

To seem informed.

To seem intelligent.

To seem worth listening to.

And, a whole bunch of much smarter people than me have chimed in through the centuries about how God fits into all of this political craziness. But, here's my political philosophy, in a nutshell:

God is in control.

Yes, we should be informed, use the minds God gave us, search the Scripture to decide where we should come down on the issues. We should vote. We should care.

But, we shouldn't worry.

He knows who will win. He knows how the future of this country will matter to eternity. He's not fretting about Mormons or Democrats or Republicans or Muslims. He's not afraid for America. He has plans that we don't know.

Plans to glorify Himself.

Plans to point the world to Christ.

Plans to win.

Yes, God wins. Not political parties. Not countries.

He is the victor.

Therefore, let's not get too upset if this election doesn't go "our" way. It will go God's way. And He will do with it whatever is best.

Do you trust Him?

Blogaholic

Well, I'm only three days away from the end of this 31 day challenge. I have had so much fun doing this! I can't believe how encouraging you all have been. My blog passed 10,000 views last week, and that absolutely blows my mind. Just knowing that I can write something and someone can instantly read it on the other side of the world is amazing. But, what I really love is just knowing that my friends are reading.

While I've spent many days sitting in front of the computer with no clue what to write, my daily blogging has become a habit that is actually not as difficult to maintain as I imagined. In fact, I think I'm hooked.

I've been working on setting up a brand new blog that should be up and running in the next few days. I really hope you'll check it out! I know not every day of my blogging is a total winner, but I do appreciate you reading. The challenge of writing every day has been really good for my mind and heart.

Thank you so much for your kindness! I'm excited about launching my new blog this week!

Dear Heart: Please Hush

Tonight I was telling my English-teacher-turned-administrator mother-in-law about someone's poor grammar. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, she playfully corrected the grammar in my sentence. We laughed about it, but I thought about how often my critiques of people end up making me look foolish.

You would think I would stop criticizing people.

So many times when I open my mouth and speak, I regret it. The Bible tells me that what I say is a true reflection of what's in my heart. So, I should consider my own harsh words about others as a clue that my heart is ailing.

Sure, people drive me crazy sometimes.

Sure, people occasionally wrong me.

Sure, people can be exasperating.

But, I drive people crazy sometimes.

I occasionally wrong people.

I can be exasperating.

Can I expect more grace from others than I am willing to extend myself? My words can be tools that spread the love of Jesus or they can hurt others. It is so obvious to me which one is the better way.

I pray that I will learn to be quiet when I feel complaints about others bubbling up from my heart. Thanks to my awesome mother-in-law for the gentle reminder that I'm not perfect. She is the best.

And her grammar is impeccable.

Sweet Mysteries

Last night I heard a woman tell the story of her life. I sat and listened as she told one tragic detail after another--just when I thought it couldn't get worse, it did. She told us with tears about all kinds of abuse, loss, and difficulty.

And I was struck while she spoke by how little hardship I've experienced in my own life. I can't help but wonder why I have been spared tragedy thus far while she and many others have endured so very much. It seems unbalanced. It looks unfair. Yet, I know that at any moment I may be faced with my own troubles to bear.

She said something during her story that really resonated with me. She said that both the bad and the good in this life sift through God's fingers. And, I know that's true. He is in control. And He knows why things happen. I suppose that should be enough for us--just knowing that He knows.

Because what He does is whatever will bring Him the most glory. So, maybe when we face tragedies of all kinds, we should try to be thankful that we are in a position to shine an especially bright light on our devotion to Him. At a time when the world would expect us to walk away, to curse God, to doubt His love and His goodness. When we are in the hot seat, our faith endures and we bring glory to Him as the world looks to see that He carries us through.

And, as we struggle to find this one way that a bad situation brings Him glory, He sees the many, many other ways. Things that happen on Earth and in the spiritual realm that we will not see or understand until we meet Him face to face. Those things, whatever they are, have brought me comfort during my few dark moments. The unknowns. The mysteries of God's glory. All the time, but maybe especially during hard times, we are a part of those beautiful, glorifying moments.

God is so good, even when life is bad. I want to remember that. I want to live to bring Him glory.

Oh, Sew You Didn't!

I'm sewing today. I guess that should actually read I'm attempting to sew. My sewing is more like a blind woman throwing needles at a dart board that is 200 yards away, behind a haystack, in pouring rain. I sort of just close my eyes and go for it.

My motto in sewing is third time's the charm, because I generally sew and rip out and sew and rip out and sew and rip out before I figure out how it goes. I've been doing that today. I'm making Halloween costumes, and I attached Sawyer's first spider arm three times before I finally got it. The first time I sewed it the wrong direction. The second time it was too long. The third time, (Hallelujah!), I got it. And I felt accomplished. Forget about the fact that three more arms need to be attached today. By the time I sew and rip those out three times apiece, I'm on schedule to finish by about six tomorrow morning.

All this sewing and resewing would be easier if I had any tools that I actually need to do the job. For instance, a pair of scissors that will cut fabric. Mine (which are clearly labeled SEWING SCISSORS: DO NOT USE on the handle), have apparently recently been used to cut duct tape or maybe toast with jelly on it or maybe already chewed chewing gum. Because they're sticky.

A seam ripper is a really handy tool for a ripping out addict like myself, but I vaguely remember Adelade using it to prop up a doll tent or to torture some poor stuffed animal while playing vet. I never saw it again. So, I've been doing all this ripping out with a kitchen knife. Now you'll understand when I'm missing a couple of fingers when Halloween rolls around. No, it's not a clever costume.

Despite all of my handicaps and lack of ability, I am really enjoying this little detour from my regular routine. It'll all be worth it when my kids are sporting their awesome costumes. If they hold together until the end of the evening on Halloween, I'm declaring myself Queen of the Ignorant Seamstresses. I'll wave and wave like I'm the Grand Marshall of the Sewing Parade, and maybe no one will notice that I'm missing a few fingers.

Noah: The Scary Version

Chad and I have talked several times through the years about how strange it is that the most horrifying event in human history has become such a sweet and fuzzy children's story. Noah and his ark are plastered all over church preschool areas, baby bedding, and children's Bibles. There's even a funny children's song that says:

"God told Noah to build Him an ark-y, ark-y
Build it out of Gopher bark-y, bark-y..."

Strange, isn't it, when you think about the terrifying nature of the story? The earth was populated by descendants of Adam and Eve. They had turned their backs on God, and God decided He was just going to get rid of them and start over. But, there was that one fella, Noah. He was faithful to God. And he and his family were saved.

I know we usually focus on the big boat and all the animals and imagine what that must've been like, traveling on that huge floating menagerie all over the earth. But, I can't help but picture what it was like on the ground.

Families, moms and dads who loved their children, babies, toddlers, teenagers, grandparents. They had mocked God. They had decided they didn't need Him. Or maybe they were just indifferent and placed higher priority on other things. Whatever the case, they were down there, living life, thinking they were right, probably believing they were good people.

Then the rain started.

And, at first maybe they weren't that worried. But, it kept coming down. And soon there was no place for it to go anymore--all the valleys of the earth were full and the water began to rise. Imagine the moment when the waters could no longer be held back. When parents and children knew that disaster was upon them. Panic set in. Moms and Dads clung to their children and their babies' cries rang in their ears. In that moment, don't you think those parents wished they had chosen another path? When the terrified screams of their children rose up. When their little ones were asking for help and the parents knew there was nothing they could do. They had made their choice, and it led to this moment. And their children were paying for it.

How often do we consider how our devotion to God (or lack of devotion) will affect our children? Do we send messages that other things are more important than God? Do we rely on our own goodness to guide our kids to the right path?

I pray that we act now, before the storms of this life pummel our kids. We have to be real about devoting ourselves and our families fully to God. It's too late for us to help them once they're already drowning. We will have missed our chance.

The good news is that God can do anything. But, we have a responsibility to prepare our kids for a life that is about clinging to Christ, not some flimsy liferaft that the world presents as acceptable. Nothing the world produces will hold up against the storm. So, do this: take your kids to church. Teach them about the love of Christ. Live your life to show them that He is the most important thing. Then when life's storms hit them full force, you will have no regrets, knowing that you did all you could to throw them the life-saving Truth.

The Pros Have It

When I first started to realize that I was in love with Chad, I totally freaked out. I remember making a pro and con list about being his girlfriend. I mean, how romantic is that? I was sitting there listing all the bad things about him that I could think of and only came up with two:
1. He might be a democrat.
2. He is opinionated.

I was worried that his extended family were democrats and that he would wake up one day and decide to vote the big D. At 20 years old, this was my big concern. Nerd alert!

Number two came up because during college he had a talent(?) for writing contraversial letters to the university newspaper. I actually think he only wrote two, but the second led to a meeting with one of the college administrators who responded with some wise words: "I wouldn't give a nickel for ten 20 year old boys." And, on the surface Chad was the ultimate poster child for twenty year old boys who would give old men a headache.

He was a passionate about things. He had long hair, a rock band, and a great collection of thrifted clothes. He was funny. His professors loved him despite his 20 year old boy status because he was a nice guy. And, of course, he is the smartest person I had met then or have met since.

The pro list was long. I used up the whole front page of my paper and moved to the back. It was obvious that I was madly in love with him. And, even my reasonable self couldn't come up with enough reasons to deny it.

I ran across that list many years later and had to laugh at myself. I was so cautious. So nerdy. I was so dependent on my own reasoning skills, and hoped that they would trump my undeniably out of control love for this boy. But, there was no hope that would happen. I was blind to Chad's flaws as he was blind to mine. We chose not to see in each other what might be problematic in the future. We forgave shortcomings because we were so in love with all the good things about each other.

And, I've decided that's the key to a happy marriage. Let love overshadow those flaws that come out every once in awhile. Focus on what is good about your spouse and forget about what is bad. Chad and I have accepted so many things about each other that once drove us crazy (especially him, poor fellow), and we are letting love shine brighter than the glaring faults that could distract us. It's not easy to do every day, but it is a day by day choice.

If I had to make a pro and con list about Chad today, I could probably come up with a few more cons. After all, he is so good at Bible Trivia that I am almost refusing to play him anymore. But, I can honestly say that there isn't enough paper in our house to list all the things about him that I admire, love, and cherish. I've watched him grow as a man, a husband, and a father. He has taught me so much about God's love. He has given me three little mini-Chads to live with and for. God really protected me from my own ignorance when I had no idea what I needed or wanted in a mate.

I'm convinced it's God's grace that makes us such a good match. We are imperfect. We mess up. We argue. We laugh a lot. And, the good in our marriage comes from Him. What a miracle that in this world filled with sin, inside once wicked hearts that have been redeemed by Christ, this kind of love can live and endure and extend to three other little dolls who are loved by no one else in this world they way they are loved by us. This love grows and grows as years pass. This love is real. As real as a pro and con list. But, better.

A Room for Two

Today my friend shared one of those "Keep Calm and Carry on" signs, but his said, "Keep Calm, They're Almost in Bed!" So funny. I have to admit, I'm almost never sorry to see my kids hit the sack. They have kid-busy days, and by the time bedtime rolls around, I am kid-busy dizzy! I'm ready for a little quiet and for a little conversation with the grown-up I live with.

But, a wonderful thing has happened since Adelade and Sawyer moved into the same room. When I put them to bed, I get to listen to their whispers and giggles as they discuss whatever little kids discuss at the end of the day. They almost always have stuff they HAVE to say to each other when the lights go out. And, even on nights when I am forced to get them quiet, I really hate to do it, because they seem so close, so intimately acquainted in those moments in the dark of their cozy little bedroom.

I recently heard them talking about God. Yes, they were working out some kind of child-sized theology in their little sanctuary for two. I'm glad they have each other.

And, when Adelade gets annoyed because Sawyer keeps asking for a drink or when Sawyer gets mad because Adelade is reading by flashlight, I smile and think that someday they will remember this time as one of their most fun experiences, way back when they shared their space, their air, their thoughts, their everything. Back when they snored through the night side by side. When they woke up every morning giggling. When playing together was their most important goal of the day.

What happy times! Blessings come in all shapes. This one came in the form of a tiny house, a little room, beds gifted by grandparents, and sleeping. When the sleeping happens next to one of your favorite people, all the more reason to thank God for His goodness.

The In-between Years

Adelade has outgrown Disney princesses. She doesn't want to wear poofy dresses to church anymore. She thinks Dora is for babies. Sesame Street is out of the question. She likes to carry a purse. She is dying to wear my shoes.

All signs that my first baby is growing up. But, this seven year old in-between-ness is actually one of my favorite phases of parenting so far. She is in this magical stage of being a fairly independent, fun, reasonable human being who also loves holding my hand in public. Who still likes to sit in my lap even though her feet are almost touching the floor. Who loves playing with dolls and putting on shows and who is begging to get a kitten.

I am still one of her favorite people.

But, her world is growing. She has friends and teachers and, believe it or not, she even has boys who are paying her a little more attention than I would like. I am trying to stop and breathe in each moment that she would rather sit with me than sit with her friends. I try to burn into my mind the image of her reaching out to hold my hand while we walk. I want to remember the way she walks up to me with outstretched arms and simply says, "Hug." I know these days will come to an end, sooner than I can even admit to myself.

And she has already had a few rolling-the-eyes, glaring-in-disbelief moments, though they have been few. When I see that side of her coming out, I think of three year old Adelade, who, believe me, gave me a run for my money on more than one occasion. I figure I will have to deal with that iron-willed little attitude again in a few years.

But, right now. Right now is just beautiful. She amazes me with her insight and challenges me with her faith. I am loving watching my first born, my "original baby," as Chad calls her, grow into an original young lady.

Isn't it wonderful, getting to know the people that you birthed? Then my baby, now my companion, someday my friend. I feel blessed.

A Searing Letter to My Parents

Dear Mom and Dad,

I am writing to let you know that as I've grown older I've realized that I missed out on a lot of things in life because of your archaic parenting philosophies. I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but you deprived me of lots of things.

First of all, you didn't buy me a new car when I turned 16. In fact, you didn't buy me a car at all! You made me drive that disgusting work truck that Dad bought VERY used in the 80s. I started driving in 1993! Because you did that, I now drive a used car that has peeling paint on the hood. Are you aware that the driver's side window doesn't even roll down? And, I am actually PROUD of this car? I love it and feel spoiled because it has a sunroof? You made me that way!

Another thing. You made me come home before midnight. Do you realize how much fun I missed out on just because you couldn't sleep when I wasn't home? Do you know how many opportunities to get in trouble passed me by while I was sleeping in my bed late at night? And now, here I am, a grown woman, with no exciting jail story to tell. Your fault!

You know what else? You took me to church all the time. I mean, all the time. I never got to sleep in on Sundays, you sent me to all these Christian camps and enrolled me in Vacation Bible School and took me to Christian concerts. Do you realize how little chance you gave me to get diverse religious teachings? You didn't expose me to all the world philosophies and let me choose my own path! You passed your faith right down to me! And, now I'm married to a pastor and our kids love church. You are very much responsible for this turn of events.

Are you catching my drift yet? On top of all this, you spent loads of time with me and took me camping and carted me around on vacations and fed and clothed me. You played board games and taught me to sing and made me love music and bought those piano lessons AND those art lessons and let me try out for cheerleader (even though you knew I didn't have a chance) and let me be dramatic and listened when I talked too much and only got slightly annoyed when I stood between you and whatever you were trying to look at in the grocery store. You laughed a lot and made me feel important. And because of all these things I grew up happy. Do you hear that? I had very little teen angst to work through! You robbed me of my chance to be miserable!

And, the real kicker is that because of your crazy, passe child-rearing ideas, I am now trying to be the same type of parent to my own kids! So, the vicious cycle is perpetuated!

I hope you're happy with yourselves. Maybe someday you will realize what an impact all of this deprivation has had on my life.

Sincerely,
Your daughter

The Underwear Under There

I think when Sawyer starts kindergarten his most difficult adjustment will be wearing clothes every day.

He is just an underwear-only sort of fellow. He gave up pjs about a year ago. If we don't go anywhere in a day, he will hang out in his underwear all day long. If we do go somewhere, he strips down as soon as we walk in the door.

We live in a church parsonage, so we have our fair share of drop-in visitors. You might think that he would be in a panic when he hears the doorbell, scrambling to pull on some shorts, at least. Nope. He strolls on out like nothing's out of the ordinary and chats with our company. He loves to dance, eat, play video games, watch TV, pretend he's a dog, clean up his room, read books, and color in his skivvies.

I used to try to get him dressed by lunch. It's the principle of the thing, I thought. He should learn that civilized people wear more than just tighty whities during the course of their day. But, then I decided he's got plenty of years to join polite society. He should be able to enjoy these special days of Underwear Heaven.

The real upside is that I have SO many pictures of him doing different things in his underwear, I'm going to be able to make a fantastically funny slideshow to embarrass him someday. One of my favorites is him, in his underwear, riding a spring horse. On the back porch. Hey, we do things CLASSY in this family.

Underwear and bare feet he's cool with, but for some reason he feels totally humiliated when he has on underwear with shoes. Go figure. So, in his most natural and happiest state (underwear only), he is missing BOTH of the criteria to get into even the worst convenience stores in town. That's my boy!

So, when August rolls around, I won't have to give him pep talks about making friends or behaving himself or getting up early. Our only real issue will be his insistence that he should wear nothing but Thomas the Train underwear on the first day of school. Don't worry, I think he'll adjust. He will be able to function wearing clothes every day. And no one will ever know that he is doing his homework every afternoon in his drawers. That's just between you and me.

A Strange Way to Nominate Your Husband for President

In every family, there should be one person who doesn't mind cleaning up vomit. Single people, this is seriously something to consider when choosing a mate. Some important questions to ask your boyfriend or girlfriend:

Do you like going to movies?

Do you enjoy traveling?

Do you want children?

How much experience do you have cleaning up barf?

I never asked that question of Chad when we were dating. Oddly, it never came up in conversation. But, boy did I luck out! God blessed me with a vomit cleaner. I knew I had hit the jackpot when we taught middle school together in Nashville. When a kid tossed his cookies anywhere in the building, Chad was the go-to guy to mop, wipe, and disinfect it away.

Our kids have a special talent for losing their lunch in the middle of the night. As the mom, I get to comfort the child, give him a bath, wipe away the tears. As the man with the iron stomach, Chad gets to clean up the mess. It's true that he usually gags all the way through his task, but he gets it done.

This is just one of the many reasons I love him.

I'm thinking that asking the all-important puke-cleaning question might be a good way to find responsible employees as well. After all, if you have an entire staff full of people who are committed to cleaning up that kind of mess, you have a group of good, humble workers who will go all out for you in the worst of times.

Someone should ask the presidential candidates this probing question. I can just see it now. Townhall debate. A young girl stands boldly with her microphone: "Mr. President, if someone vomited in the White House, would you be able to clean it up?"

No? Sorry, you're just not our man.

In short, you can trust a man who cleans up vomit. I'm so glad I live with one of those fellas.

Chad Edgington for President!

Picture Perfect

We just had family pictures taken. Letting someone take pictures of me is not my favorite thing in the world to do. I look at the picture, and I usually hate it. The advent of the whole digital picture thing has basically meant that most pictures of me have ceased to exist because I delete them for one reason or another.

But, then I discovered the world of REAL photography. Not just snapshots, but talented photographers who have all these great tools for erasing your flaws, brightening your lips, making your eyes amazingly beautiful shades of seafoam green. They can remove wrinkles, erase freckles, and basically make you look like a million bucks. I get pictures of myself back from these magicians/artists and I am totally wowed by my rock star appearance. And then I remember.

That's not what I really look like.

Really, in the world of Facebook does it matter? I can put those pictures up and everyone will think I'm aging well. They'll nod in approval as they observe that, yes, Melissa is holding up ok after all these years. And, if I run into them sometime, they'll be surprised that I don't look quite so refreshed, quite so bright and youngish. Maybe they'll just think I'm having a bad day. Honestly, if I could put nothing but professional pictures of me online, I would be pretty happy with that. I like putting my best (and sort of false) foot forward to make you believe that I really don't have bags under my eyes because I have a five month old. And a four year old. And a seven year old. I like it when areas of my body that have taken a hit through all these pregnancies are craftily cropped. But, it's not reality.

And, I've got to tell you the truth. The same is true of my faith. I work really hard to make it look like I have my heart in order. I try to leave an impression that will make you think, yes, Melissa is really walking with the Lord. She is depending on Him, looking at her circumstances with spiritual eyes, letting nothing but pure and noble thoughts enter her mind. I want you to look at me and be inspired. I want to look like a great wife, mother, and Christian.

But, the truth is that I struggle to keep my tongue in check. I constantly war against fears and worries in my mind. I am drawn to the world. I complain and grumble. My true spiritual portrait is actually quite ugly.

HOW WONDERUL that I know an excellent artist. He painted the sky. He thought of tiger stripes and three toed sloths and rainbows. He made this beautiful world from nothing at all, and he imagined every detail of every being on this planet.

And He can take my ugly heart, stinky attitude, and rotten desires and do some extreme Photoshop work. But, it's not just an illusion. He really can change me. I'm so glad that I know a Friend who can help me look, no, who can help me BE, good. And on those days when He has a little more clean up work to do than usual, He loves me anyway.

May my spiritual portrait grow more and more lovely as time goes on. And, as for my physical portrait, praise the Lord for Photoshop!

The Pornography Problem

One of the most devastating things going on among Christians today is pornography addiction.

Did you know that some studies have stated that the average age that a child is first exposed to pornographic images is nine years old? That's third grade. Others say it's more like 11 years old.

About half of all divorcing couples cite pornography as a major issue in their marriage.

In one poll, 40% of pastors interviewed admitted to having a problem with pornography.

Two-thirds of kids age twelve to seventeen said that they regularly erase their internet history so that their parents can't see where they've been online.

So many Christian women are struggling with pornography addiction that support sites are popping up all over the internet so they can hold each other accountable.

Pornography addiction is a dark and shameful secret, and there's nothing Satan loves more than darkness. As long as he can keep Christians struggling with this sin, alone, too ashamed to come forward and admit that it's an addiction that they cannot control on their own, he keeps them in a constant state of sin, guilt, and spiritual darkness.

Meanwhile, their marriages are falling apart.

Children and teenagers are taking in hundreds, maybe thousands, of images that will plague them for the rest of their lives.

Parents are blindly allowing their kids to carry around phones that offer 24/7 access to pornography in a million different forms.

And Christians are too embarrassed to talk about it.

The church must accept the truth that many, many of the congregants who worship in our sanctuaries week after week are desperate to be free of this destructive habit. To ignore the problem is to allow this sin to continue to cripple the spiritual life of our people.

I know it's an uncomfortable topic. I know that you would rather not know who is struggling with this problem. But, burying our heads in the sand will only ensure that the problem persists and grows. Wake up, Christians! Be aware! Help your brothers and sisters! Help your husbands and wives! Be open to talking about this issue with your children, your spouse, and your friends. We must admit that this issue is real, not just among men who drive to an adult bookstore (like they used to have to do), but among men, women, and kids who are dealing with this destructive secret in the privacy of their own homes.

My heart breaks for them.

Please check out these resources if you need help:
www.covenanteyes.com
www.beggarsdaughter.com
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Cowgirls Do Cry

Today was western day at Adelade's school. She loves western day because one of her favorite things in all the world is horses. Oh, how she wishes we had a horse in our backyard! At one point I think she almost had my parents convinced that they needed to buy a miniature pony for her to visit when she comes to their house. So, needless to say, when the girl has an opportunity to dress up like a cowgirl, she wants to go all out.

We had planned her outfit. She was going to wear a plaid shirt, a red cowgirl hat (with braids, of course), a neckerchief from Katy K's in Nashville, skinny jeans, and, the cherry on her sundae, the icing on her cake--her brown suede kickback heeled cowgirl boots. Yee haw! She was going to look like a riding, roping superstar!

When it came time to slip on those awesome cowgirl boots, it was something like the scene in Cinderella when the stepsisters are furiously working to squeeze their gigantic feet into the tiny glass slipper. We pulled. We pushed. We reassured each other that the boots still fit. We tried a different angle. We checked the size on the sole of the shoe. We shoved her overgrown foot in there as hard as we could, with no regard for pain, clearly denying the shape of a foot, with that pesky heel sticking out there. But, it was all for not. The shoe simply didn't fit anymore.

Even after I had given up, she kept trying, tears streaming down her cheeks, desperately pulling on the bootstraps, determined that she would smash her foot into the boot somehow. I finally took the boots, set them aside, and presented her silver Converse sneakers. Not exactly the look she was going for. I perched that little red cowgirl hat on top of her blonde braids and watched my sad little cowgirl, with tears still flowing, gather her backpack and lunchbag and head for the door.

And I thought about how often that life is like this. We are so filled with expectation. We have plans. We look forward to things working out the way we believe they should. We get everything lined up, and just when we think that things are about to be perfect, the darn shoe just doesn't fit anymore. We ought to be healthy, but we're sick. We should be happily married, but we're struggling just to stay together. We thought our children would make us proud, but they're embarrassing us. We were sure the house would sell, but no one's interested. We believed we were overcoming that addiction, but now we're right back where we started. We tried. We failed. We gave. We got nothing in return. And we feel like sitting down for a good cry, but we have to keep going because life just doesn't wait for us to have a good breakdown.

One thing I try to remember during those I-need-a-breakdown moments is that God is not surprised by anything that happens. Sure, we made our plans, but the Bible tells us that we can make all the plans we want to--God determines our every step. That makes me feel better. I like knowing that He sees not only what I'm going through but how what I'm going through matters to His kingdom. He sees the big picture, and He works things out for good. Always good. Even when we only see what's bad.

Well, Adelade survived her crisis. While Chad drove her to school, he convinced her that she was actually going to be the coolest cowgirl at school today because she was no ordinary cowgirl. She was The Silver Sneaker Cowgirl. She liked that. The sniffling stopped. A little smile appeared. She was going to make it. And that didn't surprise God at all.

Generations of Faith

Since coming to this church, Chad and I have had the special privilege of spending time with senior adults in our congregation. We've sat and talked with them, visited their homes and looked at their photographs, momentos of their younger days, awards and newspaper clippings. We've seen very first love notes and wedding photos and men with more hair and women with more curves, all spelled out in black and white dream-like photos and yellowed crinkled paper, carefully preserved. We've marveled that they have stacks of things waiting for us to look at. We feel honored to be allowed to see their past and hear their stories.

One thing I've learned from these encounters is that older Christians have such a faith story to tell! Many have endured tragedy after tragedy. Some have lost children, buried spouses, dealt with mental illness and children gone astray. Others couldn't have babies at all. Many have been sick--really sick--for a long time or have been miraculously healed. Listening to their stories and seeing their enduring belief has strengthened my faith.

Often we get frustrated with older generations. We criticize them and berate them for being "out of touch." We giggle when they don't know how to use technology or when they don't seem interested in popular culture. But, we are so busy acting superior that we miss the lessons that their lives can teach us. It's true that sometimes older people can be ornery, and usually they are quick to admit it, but when we learn all the ways that God has moved in their lives through the years, and when we witness a faith that has endured, it changes us for the better.

Young people would be wise to be a little more humble when presuming to tell older Christians how to be. They have endured much, and their faith remains. I feel blessed to be able to get a small taste of what that long-suffering trust in God looks like. I pray that when I am put to the test like our older friends have been, my love for God will hold fast, and maybe someday I will be able to share a long and beautiful faith story with the younger generation.

Secrets Mothers Know

1. No child ever cried himself to death.

2. "Because I said so" is a wise and complete reason.

3. When Daylight Savings Time ends, we can put the kids to bed way earlier.

4. Bribery is a necessary and legitimate part of child-rearing.

5. A period of mourning is appropriate when our favorite Nick Jr. show is cancelled.

6. Fruit snacks are more important than cash money.

7. Tools needed for potty training: cool underwear, a TV set, M&Ms.

8. We sometimes go an entire day without looking in the mirror.

9. Sleep is a non-essential.

10. Birthday parties for other people's children are a special form of adult torture.

11. Birthday parties for our own children are a highlight of our year.

12. Christmas is more fun as a mother than it was as a kid.

13. Time speeds up when a child is born.

14. Our kids are the brightest, coolest, most beautiful, and most talented.

15. The final answer to the question "Why?" is "Because that's the way it is."

16. We hope the tooth falls out on its own.

17. A wildflower presented in a chubby little hand really does make us happy.

18. Loud is a subjective term.

19. "I would never..." is no longer part of our vocabulary.

20. Kids are not annoying. Grown ups are annoying.