When I tell someone something of what they mean to me, I can't help it--I tear up. This always happens when I share from the place where I am really and truly Me. There's a transaction of Life that occurs when I offer the words. It's as if they are a very part of Me, containing some essence of who I am, enrobed in my innermost personality, and they carry an eternal quality. They are something given away and offered in the language of God, and yet not without blooming Life in Me as well.
I tell you that your sweet, sweet song makes my heart swell and soar and worship in spirit and truth... May you be blessed in your deeps as I have been.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
I Love This Song
"May the Words of My Mouth"
By Tim Hughes
May the words of my mouth and the thoughts of my heart
Bless Your name, bless Your name, Jesus
And the deeds of the day and the truth in my ways
Speak of You, speak of You, Jesus
For this is what I'm glad to do
It's time to live a life of love that pleases You
And I will give my all to You
Surrender everything I have and follow You
I'll follow You
Lord, will You be my vision, Lord, will You be my guide
Be my hope, be my light and the way
And I'll look not for riches, nor praises on earth
Only You'll be the first of my heart
I will follow
I will follow
I will follow You
/-_-\
/ / \
/ / \
\ \ /
\__\__/
\\
-\\ ____
\\ / /
____ \\/___/
\ \ -//
\___\//-
-//
\\
//
//-
-//
//
\\
\\
Happy Valentine's Day, Lord... XO
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Gift or Choice?
I don't get it. I've looked at this for months now from all the angles I can think of, but I cannot come to a definite conclusion.
Q. Is the determination to follow a certain path given to us as a gift, or is it the result of our own choice?
"A blend of both" doesn't do it for me. (That's always my husband's answer--a blend of every factor.) One friend said the bottom line of my lack of determination is that I fear my own unwillingness to change. At the time it sounded reasonable. Not anymore.
As I look back, healthy changes in my behavior have resulted from a profound revelation that rocked me to my deeps. The resulting change or adjustment in belief was catalyst for behavior change. We do what we believe, and believe me, that speaks way louder than just saying what we believe.
Q. Is the determination to follow a certain path given to us as a gift, or is it the result of our own choice?
"A blend of both" doesn't do it for me. (That's always my husband's answer--a blend of every factor.) One friend said the bottom line of my lack of determination is that I fear my own unwillingness to change. At the time it sounded reasonable. Not anymore.
As I look back, healthy changes in my behavior have resulted from a profound revelation that rocked me to my deeps. The resulting change or adjustment in belief was catalyst for behavior change. We do what we believe, and believe me, that speaks way louder than just saying what we believe.
Since God is ultimate guardian of my circumstances, He has allowed and disallowed in accordance with His plan for my life. I can rearrange the deck chairs all I want, but this ship is on a course set by the Captain. (Most days I’m glad of that.) The experiences that moved me toward healthy change were His arrangement, brought about for His glory to be seen through my life. I am compelled by His love. The joy and fulfillment that arise from these epic moments aren’t something I choose—they just come. If I want to want a totally surrendered life, I need motivation and vision, the kind that come from a deeps-rocking epiphany. I believe that God gifted William Wallace with a deeps-rooted determination to do what was right. Along with that gift came a Niagara of courage, strength, and heart—enough to change mere men into warriors and free an entire country.
I want the country of my own soul freed, and I cannot make myself decide to be free. I need help. I need the gift of a revelation, the kind that can only come from the One whose other worldly Love transcends my humanness, surpasses the strength of my flesh, and empowers my soul to live life as He meant me to—free, unself-conscious, with joy spilling up and over into other needy lives.
That’s the way it seems to me today. If my friend who has the tendency to overinfluence me has another go at it, I could be writing an addendum later.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Why So Insecure?
Why are we so insecure?
I just found out that someone I've been friends with for two years spent a lot of time wondering if I liked her. It all made sense when I heard that because she's called to apologize on several occasions for comments she made to me that might have been gossip, and since gossiping is not an admirable or godly trait, she called to say she was sorry. The last time she did that she added, "... because I didn't want you to not like me." I was so taken aback by that because I knew that if I were to let go and gush about how deeply I respect and admire and enjoy her, she'd probably wave me off and walk away in unbelief.
I don't think her insecurity came from something I said or did. I think that came about on her part. But she's so cute, fit, talented, educated--she's an engineer, a substitute teacher, a home schooler, and a consistent volunteer at a soup kitchen. I always thought of her as humble, selfless, hard-working, and of such golden character. If she knew how highly I thought of her, perhaps she might have one less insecurity in her life.
Now that I think of it, I remember one author (I think it's Hannah Whitall Smith) saying that the enemy of our souls doesn't care what we occupy ourselves with as long as it's not Christ. It can be a seemingly valuable ministry, the unplanned pregnancy of a daughter, a preoccupation with personal finances, or frequent thoughts of how well or how poorly we come across to others. Makes no difference to him--it all misses the mark, and that's his joy.
John the Baptist comes to mind. He doesn't seem like someone who struggled with insecurity. In fact, he seems like one of the most settled people I've ever heard of. He dressed like a caveman, ate honey & hoppers (and yuck--I don't care HOW sweet they are), and was all for the crowds switching allegiance from him to his cousin. Look at where his focus always was. And check out what Jesus said about him (Matt. 11:11)!
I want to be completely insecure about my flesh and as equally secure about the One on whom I am totally dependent. Focus our focus, Lord.
I just found out that someone I've been friends with for two years spent a lot of time wondering if I liked her. It all made sense when I heard that because she's called to apologize on several occasions for comments she made to me that might have been gossip, and since gossiping is not an admirable or godly trait, she called to say she was sorry. The last time she did that she added, "... because I didn't want you to not like me." I was so taken aback by that because I knew that if I were to let go and gush about how deeply I respect and admire and enjoy her, she'd probably wave me off and walk away in unbelief.
I don't think her insecurity came from something I said or did. I think that came about on her part. But she's so cute, fit, talented, educated--she's an engineer, a substitute teacher, a home schooler, and a consistent volunteer at a soup kitchen. I always thought of her as humble, selfless, hard-working, and of such golden character. If she knew how highly I thought of her, perhaps she might have one less insecurity in her life.
Now that I think of it, I remember one author (I think it's Hannah Whitall Smith) saying that the enemy of our souls doesn't care what we occupy ourselves with as long as it's not Christ. It can be a seemingly valuable ministry, the unplanned pregnancy of a daughter, a preoccupation with personal finances, or frequent thoughts of how well or how poorly we come across to others. Makes no difference to him--it all misses the mark, and that's his joy.
John the Baptist comes to mind. He doesn't seem like someone who struggled with insecurity. In fact, he seems like one of the most settled people I've ever heard of. He dressed like a caveman, ate honey & hoppers (and yuck--I don't care HOW sweet they are), and was all for the crowds switching allegiance from him to his cousin. Look at where his focus always was. And check out what Jesus said about him (Matt. 11:11)!
I want to be completely insecure about my flesh and as equally secure about the One on whom I am totally dependent. Focus our focus, Lord.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Civil Caterwaul
This an explanation for my blog name:
Civil = Sufficiently observing or befitting accepted social usages; not rude, as in a civil reply.
Caterwaul = To cry or screech like a cat in heat; to make a shrill, discordant sound; to have a noisy argument.
There are a lot of discussions and even heated arguments in the committee in my head, so this name is a stab at finding a fitting description of those conversations. Let there be words, questions, emotions, honesty, and discord in the name of finding some answers, but let us not be rude or brutal. Everyone's fighting a battle--why be mean...
Sunday, July 03, 2005
chunk o'my heart behind...
We dropped Brett off at the Academy last Thursday. Sounds so simple, doesn’t it…
IT WASN’T.
I stayed strong through the whole thing, crying only as little as anyone else---------until we left town. Then I cried and cried and cried, all the way to Wyoming, and even after then, off and on… Kev too. Leaving one of my children behind felt just wrong. We were five, and now we were four… It just didn’t seem right. Part of my heart felt hacked off, and it was weird that a kind of mole suddenly appeared under my left eye… like a piece of shrapnel surfacing from the inside...
We went to McD's today. I told Kev I didn’t want to go to church, that I wouldn't be able to handle the questions about how it went, how it was dropping him off… He woke up with a hideous headache, and we ended up going to McD's, stopping at Safeway for hot dogs, buns, and soda. We went for a ride on their new pontoon boat which came with the new, fantastic house they bought on the river, and it was a lovely, lovely time. I always do love my time with Peggy, one of the most munificent friends I could ever know… Got some pictures, and I’m sincerely grateful for them.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Senior Week
Monday, May 30, 2005, was Memorial Day, so no school. Brett won first in the 800m at districts the week before, passing four runners in the home stretch for a PR and a berth at state (at EWU). I don’t think he’s in the house right now. I think he went for a run...
Tuesday, May 31: SENIOR AWARDS NIGHT. It was weird to see Brett stand up for honor after honor. It culminated in his acceptance of the Academy scholarship, presented by USAF Reserve Major Laine Wyrick. His name had been announced so often that when the presenter stood to present the AF Math/Science award, she said, “All together, now...” and everyone sing-sang in unison, “… Brett Mulligan…” He was a little embarrassed about it, which I found out when I commented on how eagerly he clapped for everyone. He said, “I thought I’d better!”
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Running...
The hound of rejection still lurks and occasionally even howls. Not rejection of me, but of someone whose company I seem to really enjoy when I'm with her! I can't figure it out except to assume that the enemy keeps persevering, expecting victory when I grow too weak to fight. If I face it, bark back the truth, and tell it to scram, chances are that'll be effective enough that I'll be able to go ahead and schedule another visit...
Sometimes I think that striking the balance between sanity and social obligation is a winged creature, flitting and silent, but originating from something core inside me so that I am tied to it unrelentingly. Somehow this is a Good thing. Did I mean God thing...? Maybe... He, too, takes on features of wings, silence, and a going in & out of focus, not to mention being ruthlessly tied to my core insides.
I run
and I reason.
In
and out of season.
I blink
and I'm blank.
I strive
and I sink.
I lean
and I rest.
I think
that's the test.
I go
where He's blessed.
Sometimes I think that striking the balance between sanity and social obligation is a winged creature, flitting and silent, but originating from something core inside me so that I am tied to it unrelentingly. Somehow this is a Good thing. Did I mean God thing...? Maybe... He, too, takes on features of wings, silence, and a going in & out of focus, not to mention being ruthlessly tied to my core insides.
I run
and I reason.
In
and out of season.
I blink
and I'm blank.
I strive
and I sink.
I lean
and I rest.
I think
that's the test.
I go
where He's blessed.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
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