The Fish Tank

Being that it is Holy Week, our family discussed the happenings of this week over dinner. A recurring question from our discussions was: Why do we call it Good Friday? If Jesus suffered and died, why is it considered good? Our five year old had a tough time with this concept. In his innocent mind, good looks and feels right; things are kind and happy not bloody and painful. For the past few weeks, months really, I have written down "upside down thinking" in my Bible and my journal. As I studied Scriptures and read devotions and books about Jesus, I kept coming back to upside down thinking. Everything Jesus did was completely opposite of the way we operate. His love, relentless and open. His sacrifice, unfathomable. His life, admirable. Good Friday did not seem very good all those years ago. People wailed and cried suffering in their own right watching their friend be put to death in the most extreme and violent way. Their perspective was right in front of them: the One wh

There are things I know about Christianity. I just know. They are things I have taken in over the years, learned, and begun to understand. Sometimes, however, they sit in my head and get stuck there. I know these things, I know them to be true, but, they don't always make it to my heart. While I know them, they don't become a part of me; I don't let them reassure me. In my quiet time today, I read the following: "You can feel secure, even in the midst of cataclysmic changes, through awareness of My continual Presence. The One who never leaves you is the same One who never changes: I am the same yesterday, today, and forever." Jesus Calling The moment I read that statement, consistency in chaos resonated in my brain. I know God is never-changing. I know that I know that I know. Just as I know the sun will rise each day, I know God never changes. I also know that there is peace in that knowledge. There is power and victory in knowing that God never changes. He i

Funny how God works. I was sitting here completely distracted by other things when I have a list a mile long to complete. The time was not wasted, though. In my distraction, I came across a video post by an author I follow named, Glennon Doyle. While there's some things I do not agree with, her foundation of loving others and loving ourselves is paramount. I was thinking recently about forgiveness. I am one to forgive others easily. Own your stuff, apologize, and I forgive. I don't hold a grudge. I won't remind you of your wrong doing. But, BUT, I have a really hard time forgiving myself sometimes. I beat myself down and deem myself worthless. Why is it so easy for me to forgive others but not myself. "Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you." Ephesians 4:32 Ephesians 4:32 talks about how

Dear Life Group, For so long I was in search of "our people." You know, those go-to people that are your tribe; the ones who stick with you even when you royally mess up, hurt feelings, say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, need a good laugh, an escape from reality, and the like. I tended to compartmentalize our life group. I thought of our group as a separate entity from all my other relationships and I was wrong. You guys are our people. Almost five years have passed since our first awkward encounter. Who could've predicted what we have now after that interesting blind date kind of meeting. We kind of just ended up together and never looked back. The moment the realness was laid out on the line that first meeting, I knew we had something great but I didn't know how great until this past year. We have been through a lot together over these five years. Babies being born, home building, vacations, birthdays, social outings, loss, and suffering. It wasn't u

No Doubt exploded onto the music scene in the early 90s. The band was huge where I grew up because they were from the area where I lived. It was fun to watch a band who played small venues around town make it big. I can't forget blaring "I'm Just a Girl" from the speakers of my 1989 Volkswagon Fox with the windows down. It was one of my favorite songs way back when. My dad and I were talking a few weeks ago. He was asking about my writing and what I was going to do with it. He told me I needed a tag line: something that sticks with people after they read my words. I told him I had one at the top of my blog: Life is a journey. Talk about it. His words, however, made me think more about this tag line. One of my very favorite things is hearing people's stories. There is so much to gain when others share their life experiences. We all know that life is a journey not a destination and while we may experience similar situations, the way we deal with and handle them

The world lost a great man yesterday; an American hero. My Grandpa Buz passed away. He was a decorated soldier; a WWII fighter pilot and POW. After the military, he went on to spend the next thirty years as a LA fire fighter. He decided to spend his retirement as a security guard. The man didn't steer away from risky jobs. While he most definitely had a decorated past, he's always just been my Grandpa Buz. I have fond memories of my grandfather. He was actively involved in my life. I would go to their house often having tea parties on their stairs and playing in their pool. My grandpa would let me climb on his shoulders in order to flip off of them into the pool over and over again. I am sure I completely wore him out, but he never showed it. He was always there to support me and I always always knew he loved me. Grandpa Buz was a humble man. He had incredible stories about his past that he would tell with such grace. He was proud of his service but their was always a sense

We had a family day today and went to see the movie, Zootopia. What a cute movie with a great message! Many will debate about how it has an agenda, but, if you sit back and take it all in, the movie may rush you back to your childhood. I resonated with the main character, the rabbit. She had a spunk about her. Judy Hopps was destined to be a carrot farmer but she had other plans. She wanted to be a police officer and nothing could stop her. This was me. I was bound and determined to be famous one day and no one could tell me otherwise. The world was my oyster, and I was going to tackle anything and everything that came my way. As the movie progressed, Judy moves to Zootopia: a land where every type of animal lives in peace and harmony with each other...or so she thought. Officer Hopps befriends a fox in order to solve a case. These two are polar opposites; the fox being a predator and Judy being a bunny was prey. The two end up working together facing challenge after challenge includ

My emotions churned inside me this past week. I was searching for something and looking every which way but right in front of me. I prayed and prayed and prayed some more. A friend text me the same week asking for prayer. She needed God to intervene. I responded asking her if she needed God to intervene the way she wanted or the way he intended. I felt pretty proud of myself for being so bold. Funny how I could be so easily bold with her but completely oblivious to the fact that I was doing the same thing in my own life: I wanted God to intervene my way. I sat down to talk about the book I was reading alongside a friend. We are currently reading through a book, watching a short video message on the book, and discussing our reactions each week. We both had a similar reaction: we just weren't feeling it. Even though each of us shed some tears as we talked, neither of us felt that moved by the book. We turned on the video kind of ho-hum and then our worlds were rocked. We both kept

The boys recently asked my about my teaching past. They wanted to know what grades I taught and what I thought of the kids. They asked if it was hard and if I liked to teach. Jack asked me if I wanted to teach again and I told him I wasn't sure. I let him know I was still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. He thought that was funny since I am already grown...obviously. The next day I felt blah. Nothing happened to dampen my mood. I just was. I was feeling lonely, inadequate, and useless. No one said anything to make me feel this way. It was just one of those moments. I am merely a stay-at-home mom who folds laundry and packs lunches. Am I really contributing to this world? I know raising my boys is the most important thing I will ever do, but I wondered if there is more for me. Is there something waiting for me that I am missing? Am I valuable? I realized that I find value in doing. My value, in my mind, is linked to what I do. As much as I don't want to

'But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look at his appearance or at his physical stature, because I have refused him. For the Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7 I was talking to a neighbor the other day about time. We were discussing getting older and how your perspective shifts as you grow up. One thing that we both had in common is how things don't bother us as much as they used to. It's not that we don't care. Those things that used to frustrate, anger, or paralyze me no longer have a hold on me. People are going to talk. People are going to have their opinions. People are not going to understand, not going to know the full story, aren't going to care yet develop a negative perspective of me. Thus is life. It's not that these people are bad people. Typically, they mean no harm. Somehow, it seems, we are wired to jump to a conclusion about someone based on someone else'

Politics brings out the good, the bad, and the ugly in people doesn't it? Don't worry, this isn't a political post. I don't like to go there. This is an observation that birthed out of the crazitown that is this election year. It seems the public, or shall I say the media, likes to talk a lot about the way the Christian will vote and this year is no exception. Will they stay the course on the conservative train or, gasp, pull to the left? Two thousand sixteen ushered in a dark horse. This dark horse has sent the world, and the church, spiraling. As I sit back and watch it all unfold, I wonder if we have become a churched society instead of a saved one. It's no surprise that most of my friends attend church on Sunday morning. I live in the middle of the Bible belt. Churches are found on almost every corner. When we first moved here, I thought everything was closed on Sundays because literally no one was on the roads or in stores. They were all at church. While I

"Grace. What have you done? Murdered for me on that cross." Hillsong United Merriam-Webster lists eight definitions for grace. One of those definitions looks as follows: 1. a : unmerited divine assistance given humans for their regeneration or sanctification b : a virtue coming from God c : a state of sanctification enjoyed through divine grace Of course I had to keep digging. I looked up regeneration and here is what I found: 1: an act or the process of regenerating : the state of being regenerated 2: spiritual renewal or revival I then had to look up sanctification... the state of growing in divine grace as a result of Christian commitment after baptism or conversion the Christian belief that the suffering and death of Jesus was responsible for the sanctification of all humankind Grace. What is grace? What does it look like? Are we capable of giving grace? In the Christian world, grace is believed to be a free gift given to us by our Savior. We believ