Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from 2015

All Things New

I couldn't go to sleep. I was wide awake at midnight and if you know me well, you know I usually fall asleep around nine. I read, caught up on some shows, and finally turned everything off in order to try and get some shut eye. The moment I shut my eyes, my mind began racing; of course. I decided to pray for two reasons. First, I know some people are hurting in a big way right now and they need big prayers. Second, prayer makes me sleepy. Maybe there's a calming peace that washes over us when we pray. Either way, I knew I needed to talk to God. I began praying for the victims of Saturday's storms. Tornadoes whipped through North Texas so fast and with such vengeance, the storm chasers I follow on social media could not keep up with posting the warnings. People lost everything: their lives, their homes, their pets. I started praying for peace and hope and then I started praying for the church. As I was praying, I realized that the very words I was speaking were exactly w

Bold

And Mary said, "My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for He has been mindful of the humble state of his servant." Luke 1:46 I had just finished helping with Grady and Wyatt's school Christmas parties. I headed over to Jackson's classroom and helped set-up for his party. I had a few minutes to spare before the kids came back, so I checked my phone. I was surprised to see a missed call and voicemail from Scott. We usually text throughout the day rarely talking on the phone. Plus, he knew where I was and usually doesn't call or text me when I am at the boys' school. Somehow seeing that missed call, I knew something wasn't right. I listened to the voicemal. "Hey Meg, it's me. Something interesting just happened. Give me a call back. Love you!" His voice didn't sound steady like it usually does. I tried calling back to no avail. I tried again. And again. And again. I had completely forgotten that he was drivi

Wave Maker

It's no secret that I LOVE a good project. Scott and I dream of owning a ranch house and some property one day. I joke that we'd be great at doing a big renovation but we may not make it out alive. We've been through two big construction projects building our house and redoing our backyard. To say we hit some bumps in the road through the process is an understatement. My friend was baffled by the crazy stuff we've gone through. I told her I was beginning to think it was me. I do not always wear my Sunday best when dealing with contractors. I try but man, it's tough. All this craziness had me wondering if we were really having construction issues or I was just being ridiculous. Are you making waves in your life blaming others or life circumstances instead of taking ownership? I despise conflict. Truly, I do. I would rather have a smile on my face than a fist in my hand. I am wired for peace not conflict. However, like most people, I have had my fair share of issues

Muddy Boots

My eldest was acting mopey. He said his throat hurt and couldn't go to school. Thinking he may have strep or some other sickness, I kept him home even though he didn't have a fever. About an hour into our morning, he came into to ask me where his shoes were and told me he felt well enough to go to school. Off he went to school magically feeling like a million bucks. He came home from school happy and healthy but then the dragging and mopey behavior started. We were all outside playing, Grady and Scott throwing some baseballs, when I noticed Jack slip inside. I went inside and asked if he wanted to go on a walk. We like our walks together and I thought it might cheer him up. We started out on our usual route when I asked him if he wanted to cut through the fire road. The city built a small road that cuts through the pasture that divides our neighborhood with the next one. The road is fenced off with a "No Trespassing" sign. You can easily unlatch the gate (it need

Everything's Gonna Be Alright

I am a freak-out girl. Drop some bad news on me, tell me big change is on the horizon, or give me a tornado warning and I become all kinds of crazy. My dad will tell you of many moments when I would fall on the bed in a slump crying about whatever was ailing me. He would patiently listen to my woes and cries. He would then tell me to take twenty-four hours to process whatever it was I was struggling with; everything is a little lighter the next day. I learned to instill the "Randy 24" and allow myself some time to freak out and then breath. I still have a tendency to go into freak-out mode. Even in all my faith, I crumble. I was driving the other day reminiscing about those lovely moments of complete and utter lack of self-control and the loss of all logic. I gawked at myself a little ashamed. Surely I should have matured enough in life and in my faith to not freak out as much in adulthood. While I have settled down a little, I still have my moments. What I have learned fro

Peace on Earth

Peace on earth. Good will to man. We here these words a lot during Christmastime. Peace. Good will. It's the common theme this time of year. Yet this world seems to crush peace and good will with its brutality. The Earth trembles at peace; cowers at good will. Life is brutal. Life is also beautiful. Glennon Doyle likes to refer to life as "brutiful." That couldn't be any more evident today. Another tragedy filled our TV screens this afternoon. Many of us gasped at another horrific crime against beautiful innocent people. We begin ranting about what could've, should've, would've. We attack and support one another all in the same breath. Brutiful. Life is brutiful. What do we do with these gut-wrenching calamities? How do we respond? Become numb? Blame the government? Blame the crazies? Create new laws? Curse God? Let's talk about God. Can we get one thing straight when it comes to Him? While He can stop and do whatever He wants, He doesn't force

Parent Fail

Scott and I are blessed with some pretty good kids. Generally, they listen and respect authority, they do well in school, and are overall healthy thriving boys. We broke up the occasional spat over someone taking someone else's toy or being in someone's space but, overall, they got along...until about a year ago. Goodness gracious Lord Almighty! What on earth happened? All of a sudden our days are filled with sending kids into their own corners to cool down. And you might as well throw self-control out the window because everything is a race or competition so you better get out of their way when they enter church: CHURCH PEOPLE. We had a marvelous week off together last week. I love having time off together. I really do. Time is so very precious to me and I like to breath in these moments together because they fly by. However, by Thursday (Thanksgiving), the sweet obedient children turned into WWF wrestlers who suddenly lost their hearing. They could not, for the life of them

Self-Critic

Since I was a kid, I have always loved to write. I had countless journals and would doodle all day long. I remember in sixth grade I wrote the first and last name of the boy I had a crush on over and over again on the brown paper cover of my book. I love words. They litter the walls of my home. My dad once said to me that he saw me writing a book someday. I thought he was crazy. Although I am a wordy person and love to write, I am, like most people, my own worst critic. I don't hear or see the value of my words. Most of the time I see the numerous grammatical errors and passive voice. I remember meeting with my professor when I was writing my project for my masters. The theme was the same at each meeting: the content was great. I just needed to work on grammar and passive voice. I haven't changed much. I still like to talk passively and flip back and forth from present to past tense. It is who I am and I know I am flawed. The past two weeks have wrecked me a little inside. Th

Ben-Oni

When life seems in disarray, I clean. I need time to process the atrocities of our time. I can't wrap my head around the crazy things that occur in our world daily. I need time to breath and the way I do that is by cleaning like a crazy person. I've been like this since I was little. As long as the world around me is in order, I feel better. When the throw pillows are in there place and you can see the vacuum lines on in the carpet, my soul settles down. Monday came and I was feeling uneasy. The world was in chaos, my husband was on a plane to DC, and talk of middle of the night storms with embedded tornadoes had me reeling. So, I did what any sane person does when life seems completely out of your hands, I vacuumed, did laundry, and organized the play room. As I cleaned the crumbs off the floor of our kitchen, I prayed. I cried and I prayed cleaning the mess leftover from a family that is loved and cared for. I was reminded in that moment that while I may feel like everythin

Is Christmas Really Christian

All this talk about Christmas and keeping Christ in Christmas got me wondering: Is Christmas a Christian thing or of Pagan origin? Turns out, it's both. I started looking into the meaning and origin of the word Christmas. I enjoy looking at the meaning and origins of words. It brings life to the word and helps me understand it better. Christmas derived from the Old English word Cristemaesse which literally means, "Christ's mass." If you want to go even deeper, Crist (Cristes) is from the Greek Khristos which is a translation of the Hebrew Masiah (Messiah) meaning "anointed." If I have royally confused you, hold tight. I haven't even gotten started yet. The first Christmas celebrated took place around the middle of 4th century Rome. Romans had been celebrating Saturnalia (think a festival celebrating the winter soltice/return of the sun) around the time we celebrate Christmas present-day. The thought here was to incorporate a Christian holiday alon

The Real Deal

Things are about to get real here on this blog. I text the following words to a friend: "The boys are insane. Seriously. I took them to the dollar tree to get stuff for our Operation Christmas Child boxes and literally want to pound my head against the wall. I wish taking them to do stuff like that (service project stuff) was all sunshine and rainbows and everyone was happily skipping down the aisles truly understanding what it means to give and have a servants heart. But noooooooo...no. We play with plungers and ask for every ding dang toy and then act like wild banshees who have never been let out of their cages. For the love of Peter, Paul, and Mary." Y'all, parenting is no joke. I like to post the cutesy pictures of my boys sweetly snuggling by my side but real life doesn't always play out that beautifully. Don't get me wrong, we did have some fun picking stuff out to give and I did laugh when they were playing with the plungers. However, when I got home I

Steady

Ok. Let's talk about the latest controversy in American culture: the red cup. Lord have mercy, y'all. I have two things to say about this topic. First, let me tell you how I got here. I was driving a back road to a friend's house. This road is lined with beautiful sprawling homes, pastures, farms, and a few ranch properties. I love this road. I was driving and in the distance I saw a steeple. The white structure looked stunning against the beautiful blue sky and fall foliage. That steeple literally stopped me in my tracks and got me thinking about that silly red cup. The thought that came to mind was: steady. I felt like the Lord reminded me to steady myself; to realize and understand that while I may feel like Christ is being ripped out of everything I know in my surroundings, He is still there; steady. Just because Christ isn't portrayed through the symbols of Christmas on a red cup that is sold at a non-Christian business does not mean that He is gone. He is still

The Wait

Before I could drive, I dreamed of owning a Jeep Wrangler. I would walk outside to the driveway on my 16th birthday and there wrapped in a gigantic red bow would be my very own white Jeep Wrangler. That dream did not come true. I ended up driving a 1989 blue Volkswagen Fox. I just dated myself. The car was a hand-me-down from my sister. Unfortunately for me, by the time I got it, Volkswagen was no longer making the Fox thus, they were no longer making parts for it. So, every now and again, I would get stuck along the side of the road because my clutch cable would snap and I wouldn't be able to shift. They replaced the cable with a Jetta part but it never worked properly. I am sure Scott remembers a few desperate phone calls from me in tears. I finally got another car just not my dream car: the blessed Jeep Wrangler. Flash forward 21 years later and what before my wondering eyes appears but a shiny red Jeep Wrangler. My husband had been pining over getting a Jeep for over a year. I

I Will Survive

I got home a little after noon and started making myself some lunch. I pulled out a glass plate and put my leftovers in the oven. I decided to fry an egg to put on top of my stuffed acorn squash because everything is better with a fried egg on top. As I was cooking, my cute blue plate caught my attention. I realized in that moment that I was having a yummy warm lunch on a fancy plate. The house was quiet and I was able to eat my food in peace. I didn't have to share with the little birdies who used to be at my feet begging for my undivided attention. I didn't have to stuff my face quickly before the baby's next feeding or because I was on the go. I was eating off a real plate instead of paper and I hadn't reheated my food a thousand times. What a grand moment; one to record for sure. Every month I meet with a friend for lunch. I love this girl and like to check in with her to see how life is going. She's got three young boys at home and a traveling husband. Every

Conversations

Scott and I had the opportunity to go back to our roots, California, to attend and be a part of the wedding of a friend of mine who is dear to my heart. We were able to see some family in our brief visit which was wonderful. We also had the privilege of meeting new people, like the guy who kept asking Scott if this was "his song" every time the DJ at the wedding played a hip-hop tune. On Thursday night, I got to meet a really engaging guy at the rehearsal dinner. He is one of those people that you want to get to know more than a brief conversation at dinner. He was funny and kind and endearing. He has a ton of brothers so we were able to connect with the boy-talk laughing about the antics of living in a house filled with boys. I walked away feeling encouraged and thankful that I randomly sat next to him. He was just a really cool person. Our conversation got me to thinking. This guy does not live the ideal Christian life-style that we like to confine ourselves to. In fact,

He's Not Me

It's no surprise that I am the more vocal (let's be honest, loud) one of my marriage. I knew exactly who Scott was when I decided to marry him but that has not stopped me from trying to mold him into what he is not: me. Over the years I have recklessly tried and failed to make Scott's faith look like mine. I have struggled to morph him into myself socially. And I hit wall after wall trying to get him to be on the go all the time. He doesn't thrive on conflict, nor does he pick fights with me. Oftentimes, he goes along for the ride even if he is completely uncomfortable or annoyed. We end up having talk after talk hashing out the common theme over and over: Scott is not me. It's taken me years to realize what I was doing. I don't think I was pushing Scott to behave more like me consciously. Instead, I would subconsciously expect him to react a certain way, demonstrate certain behaviors, and be excited to go hang out with 100 people he didn't know. I knew he

The Good Stuff

We hear it. We see it. We feel it in our bones. The heart-wrenching, unexplanable, horrible, awful things unfolding in our world have taken us over. We see hopelessness more than hope. We celebrate lost lives more than victories. We see a crumbling world where God seems so very far away. But is He? I thought I'd turn the tides, so to speak, and talk about the good stuff. Maybe this will increase our hope a smidge and help us to not fret; God is still so very near. Last week nine beautiful souls proclaimed their allegiance with Christ. With a gun pointed at them knowing their fate if they give that answer, the still said yes to God. I often wonder what I would do if put in this situation. Would I say yes? I like to think that it takes supernatural power to say you believe when you know your fate is death. As horrifying as the Oregon tragedy was, these heroes spoke boldly for their faith and Jesus' name was proclaimed into millions of households when the news broke the story. T

Jesus and Gun Control

Hands. Shoes. Planes. Salt. Hand Sanitizer. Pillows. Rocks. Freon. Plastic bags. What do all these things have in common? They are all tools people used to murder another human being. What is my point? People will use any means necessary to hurt or kill another person when they are deperate. Yes, I am going there. I am going to talk about guns and Jesus and yes, I am going to talk about them in the same sentence. Scott and I arrived at the airport fairly early. When we sat down to eat our breakfast, Scott picked up the newspaper that was left behind. Yes, young techies, newspapers still do exist in print and not just online. The cover story was of course about the horrific shooting rampage that occured in Oregon. The article was interesting. The writer took the last six or so mad men who participated in a mass shooting and looked at their profiles, the weapons they obtained, and how they obtained them. The findings were not surprising. The guns were acquired legally. The men were rec

Fear Mongelers

It was a cold snowy and icy day about two years ago. I was at work and got notice that my oldest was on lockdown at school. A man had threatened his girlfriend, pulled a gun on someone, stolen a jeep, painted said jeep, broke into a few houses, and was on the run. He went through a few cities before ditching the jeep and hiding in the woods a couple miles from my son's school. This man was a known felon and dangerous. I knew my son was safe but was freaked out nonetheless. I get my littles home from preschool (they were three and four at the time) parking my car at the bottom of my driveway. My steeper-than-any-mountain-you've-ever-climbed driveway was covered in ice and I knew I needed to be able to get back out to pick Jack up as soon as the lockdown ended. I get the babies out of the car and we jam inside closing the garage and locking the door behind us. The boys were gathered by the back door so I went to shew them into the house. As I did this, I heard the garage door op

Stories

A few months ago, a friend of mine shared her story with our Bible study group. She fearlessly told her story to almost 100 women. Her journey began in a dark places and had many twists and turns; the kind that you can't wrap your head around. Her story was a compelling ride from despair to redemption. At the end, she encouraged each lady to be brave and share their story. She talked about how our stories have value and meaning and matter even if you are not fully healed. She discussed the story of the ten lepers from the Bible reminding us that we do not have to be healed in order to share our story or for our stories to have meaning. Luke 17:11-19 says, Now it happened as He went to Jerusalem that He passed through the midst of Samaria and Galilee. Then as He entered a certain village, there met Him ten men who were lepers, who stood afar off. And they lifted up their voices and said, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” So when He saw them, He said to them, “Go, show yoursel

Talk Talk

Have you ever played or heard of the game Telephone? You know, the game where you start at one end of the line and tell someone a secret in their ear passing the secret from person to person until you get to the end and see if the original message made it all the way down. I recently got hooked on a podcast called, "Serial." Apparently I was the last one on that train, but got so enthralled in the story. In 1999, a high school boy is accused and sentenced to life for murdering his ex-girlfriend. The podcast is a series of reports on the broadcaster's findings after all these years. She goes through evidence and interviews many of the key players from that time. She asks the witnesses to remember a key point in time fifteen years ago. It's like a really good game of telephone. One person says they were with someone else in that twenty minute time stamp while another completely rebukes their story and remembers a totally different scenario. Could you remember what you w