Mailboxes Deliver More Than Mail

        This Mama operates like clockwork on most days.  I schedule myself back to back, leaving little room for margin.  Margin means more time to get more done.  I am a to-do list oriented Type A personality that attacks each day with a plan and purpose.  If I can crash into bed having checked off many tasks on my to-do list, it's been a good day!  Fulfilling and exhausting all at the same time.
        Even though my long to-do lists are generally serving others, this Jesus-Girl can often miss those moments to just breathe in God.  My mind and heart are always three steps ahead of my feet; calculating my next move for precision.  Last week, our very creative God interrupted my to-do list and wrote His own to-do list for my day.  He sent me a very important message, stamped with His thumbprint, and placed it in a neighbor's mailbox.
        My morning had been rush, rush, rush as usual.  I had just picked up my son from school and was heading home for the 20 minute "layover" before heading back out the door to pick up my daughter from her bus stop.  "Mama's Mini-Van:  Moving and Serving Precious Cargo."  However, I hit a detour on my way home when traffic was rerouted near the schools for a car that had caught on fire.  Unnerved by the drama and anticipating the delay of my daughter's bus, this Mama's anxiety began to climb.  I slowly maneuvered through the detour and was finally on my way to the bus stop.  What I had failed to calculate was the icy bend in our development that sent "Mama's Mini-Van" sliding out of control.  After taking out a neighbor's mailbox and newspaper box, my van quickly came to a stop, sideways in the road.  My first thought, "I don't have time for this!"  God's thought:  "I have a message for you in that mailbox and I didn't want you to miss it."
        Of course, no one was home after many knocks and bangs on the door.  During my frantic phone call to my husband, he gently reminded me this was not a crime scene, therefore I was permitted to leave and head to the bus stop for Jillian.  She did not have to be stranded at the bus stop, causing a dramatic meltdown; I was enough for him to handle at the moment--no need for more "casualties".  He would meet me back at the neighbor's house to assess and begin the mailbox restoration process.  In all of God's grace, Mama's van was not damaged; just her pride......and her to-do list.
        Between the bus stop and our ride back to the destroyed mailbox, I was able to have a conversation with my children that was part of God's message in that mailbox.  I did not want to return to our neighbor's house; I was embarrassed.  My kids were able to hear my heart and then see me do the hard things.  Take responsibility when its easier to walk away.  In that window of time, our neighbor had arrived home to the large skid mark that removed part of her yard, two flattened poles, and the mailbox laying haphazardly in her driveway.  As I (profusely) apologized and my husband made plans to restore her property, our neighbor's words caught me off guard--"That was very nice of you to come back."  Nice?  She wasn't expecting anyone to return and take ownership of the destruction.  I could have ignored the consequences of my actions and thus would have met her expectations.  How sad that that mindset is the norm in our society.  We were able to show her a different set of standards that are lived by.  Her mailbox held more than just mail that day.  God delivered both of us a message in that mailbox.
        My to-do list that day certainly was not to collect "mail" from God in our neighbor's mailbox.  But our creative God used that "detour" to speak to me, to my children, and to my neighbor.  My children witnessed Mama doing hard things as the Bible commands us to do.  My hubbie was able to come to my rescue; a much needed opportunity for our marriage.  My neighbor was able to see faith in action; a contrast to the world's mode of operation.  I'd say God's to-do list held much more valuable tasks than mine did.  God used a mailbox to deliver much more than mail to this Jesus-Girl.....
             

My Story...for His GLORY!

This past week I gave my testimony in Leaders Council at Community Bible Study.  God has done AMAZING things right before my eyes and I wanted to share with anyone that may need a glimpse of what God can accomplish in anyone's messy life.....

~3 Minute Testimony~

Billie Jo Marker

          My vocabulary has always included God.  I was blessed to grow up in a home where my family lived by God's Word.  It wasn't always pretty and was dysfunctional through many seasons, but always grounded on God's principles which produced an ever-present faith. 

          I recall learning Bible story after Bible story which created an inquisitive mind full of questions that needed explanations.  My Sunday School teachers were faithful to increase my understanding and build my foundation on Jesus.  I made my way through school gaining courage and boldness in my faith each year; carrying the label of "Jesus Freak" with me as I chose to write papers on God and live differently than most of my friends.  No swearing, no school dances, no unbelieving boyfriends, no pop music, no monetary extras, no popularity.  While my girlfriends were writing "Dear Diary", I was journaling "Dear Lord" and pouring my heart and prayers onto paper and up to God.  He was my Rock, my Savior, my strength, and my guide as I grew.  By high school my heart for Jesus and others must have been evident, because my graduating year I received the Senior Superlative of "Most Caring".  I pray this "Jesus Girl" is remembered for my love for God that I shared with others.

          Life quickly blew by with youth group, jobs, dating, internships, college, and of course falling in love and marrying Willie.  He shared my love for God and we built our home on the Lord as we followed His will and lived by His Word.  Times were tough and we survived many transitions, but God's fingerprints were everywhere and His Hand of protection always on us.  He was faithful, even when we were not.

          Two children later, we found ourselves operating in the comfortable "Auto-Pilot" mode.  Routines and a certain degree of laziness pushed  church attendance and God into "an emergency only" status.  If we wanted to sleep in on Sundays, so be it.  We'd make it next week, as long as we could find our Bible Sunday morning.  Life was comfortable.

          The unexpected death of Willie's father began a shattering domino effect of crisis' that spiraled our family into deep heartache and tragedy before we finally landed softly in God's loving arms.  God tripped our "Auto-Pilot" mode into "Survival" mode and we quickly learned the stark contrast between the world's darkness and the Lord's Light.  Childhood abuse confronted, family betrayal, lies, endangered children, lawsuits, false testimonies against us, estrangements, and evil of many degrees, became our reality by no consequences of our own.  We needed a life line back to God and quickly!

          I clearly remember one morning crying out to God, "I can't breathe, I'm lost, and I'm drowning."  He spoke in my heart and prompted me to call a friend who had talked about a CBS Bible study she attended.  I knew I needed to get plugged back in to God's Word because my battles were bigger than I could fight, but not bigger than my God.  God quickly connected the dots and I began to soak up His Word through CBS; no longer drowning in life's injustices, but floating by God's grace and protection.  I participated very little that first year in CBS, because by soaking up and not speaking up, God began a healing process in my soul that changed my life and changed my heart.  The God I had known since a child, rescued this "Jesus Girl" and drew me back to His side.

          True to His Word and Sovereignty,  God intervened and rescued our family out of the evil pit that fought to consume us.  He made us a brand new creation by doing away with all things old and providing all things new.  A new home, a new community, a new job, a new church family, new friends, new ministry opportunities, a new foundation on which to raise our children, new hearts inclined towards Him,  a new love for our Jesus, and a renewed Hope for our broken souls. 

          When asked to share my testimony, I think how boring it would be because I had no dramatic past or conversion since I've known God since a little girl.  But as a lifelong believer, God took what man meant for evil and turned it into something VERY dramatic and life-changing. 

          From ashes to beauty we were restored.  From "Auto-Pilot" to "Jesus Take the Wheel" we surrendered.  This girl's testimony now has it's drama!  I can't help but chuckle at the sense of humor God has. 

          This "Jesus Girl" grew up knowing Jesus, but now I get to spend the rest of my life loving my Jesus--my Rescuer, and serving Him with all of my heart as He leads me, stretches my faith, and chisels me into the woman He designed me to be.  Jesus stole my heart and longs to steal your heart too! 

"Jesus answered, "I am the way, the truth, and the life.  

No one comes to the Father except through me." "   ~John 14:6

God is just waiting to make you His "Jesus Girl" in your 

beautiful story......Your Story for His Glory!

Everyone's Race Looks Different

This morning in Sunday School we discussed perseverance.  Hebrews offers us an incredible glimpse into the "hall of faith" heroes who ran their race with perseverance and crossed the finish line into God's Presence.  Being a runner, I love the analogy of running a race.  Training, discipline, passion, endurance, strategy, fuel, equipment, fans, and time.  All of these are needed to run a good race.  All of these are needed in the marathon of life.  Perseverance doesn't come natural.  We even have to work at persevering.  The world we live in worships self and the "you deserve the easy life" mentality.  It becomes a magnet, drawing us away from the True Compass that will guide us to the only finish line that will ever matter.

How creative is our God to give each one of us gifts and passions for our unique race?!  My race will not look like someone else's race and that person's race will not look like mine or anyone else's.  We each were created for purpose and God's Will for us is to walk with Him daily as He coaches us through each phase of our race.  Uphills, downhills, cross-terrain, heat, cold, fueled, and empty.  All seasons will be experienced over the course of our race.  He is the constant that will never change during any part of our race.  He alone is our strength in every step we pound on the pavement of life.

In our humanness we tend to compare.  My race doesn't look like so-and-so's race.  So-and-so needs to be more passionate about ________ like I am.  Everyone should _______, just like me.  We get our eyes fixed on what we think "the" race of life should look like, that when we find others not meeting our vision, we begin to criticize and judge.  Reality is, everyone's race is going to look different.  Question is, am I running the race God designed just for me?  Challenge is, do I judge other's races?

If you have ever run in a race, then you know that every runner is different.  Their journey prior to race day is different from anyone else's, they will run a race like no one else, and they will return home to running in their own unique way.  But bottom line is they are all runners.  Running for different reasons, different causes, different abilities, different goals.  But the fact that they are out there running means they are each running with passion.  When that passion for your race is rooted in God's Will, you can persevere through any obstacle and keep running the race before you.  The other runners running their own races should no longer be seen as "competition" but as teammates.  Everyone will cross THE finish line into eternity---did I run my race well?  Did I place my faith in Jesus so that my eternity will not be in separation from God?   Everyone's race looks different, but God desires that everyone runs their race with Him and finishes in His Presence.

"...and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith."  ~Hebrews 12: 1-2

Through the Lens of Our Snow Day

ALERT:  Washington County Public Schools will be closed today.

Whether received via email, phone, text, or Facebook, this announcement evokes quite the spectrum of reactions.  Opinions, back-up childcare, cancelled appointments, inconveniences, criticism, and differing perspectives all quickly bubble to the surface.  Facebook becomes littered with everyone's opinion of why or why not WCPS should or should not have made the call they did.  The backlash that the public school system receives, both "for" and "against", still amazes me.  There is only one Superintendent of WCPS and I'm guessing none of the individuals ranting on Facebook ever applied for that job.

So while others grumble and complain and scramble to make accommodations to their snow-day, this Mama counts her blessings that she is able to stay home and enjoy another day with her kiddos.  Life does not go on for us, and together we can hunker down and hit the pause button for a whole day!  I can catch up on projects and housework, while the kids can play and enjoy the freedoms a snow day brings; all of us under one roof, doing our own things while being acutely aware that "we're all home together".  The ULTIMATE snow day is when Dad works from home too.  Sleeping in, snow play, hot cocoa, board games, movies, pajamas, and books.  These are just a few of my favorite [winter] things.  When everyone is home safe in the nest, Mama is a very happy chic!  Don't get me wrong, this chic would much rather "fly south for the winter" where flip flops are required.  But if winter is here, then let it dump all the snow it wants so that home is where my heart can be, at least for one more day.  <3

Wishing more Mamas could see the beauty in a snow day--even when the kids start fighting, the electricity goes out, the library book is due, your work piles up, there is no food in the fridge, the sidewalk needs shoveled, or you're asked for the millionth time "can we pleeeeaaaase invite friends over".......

The Pains of Practicing

My daughter, Jillian, is a mini-me!  Quite often, my husband and I exchange smirks as she does something else that mirrors her Mama!  And vice-versa, our son, Braeden, is Willie's mini-me and we exchange many coy smiles as he imitates Willie just as often!  It's quite comical in our home!  Usually our mini-me's exhibit our character flaws more often than they exhibit our character attributes.  But I'll leave that ratio for another blog!  ;)

With all these snow days this winter, I was looking for something for Jillian to do.  I recommended that she practice her flute.  Her eyes lit up and she opened her case and music with much anticipation (such the drama queen!).  In all of about 20 seconds, she struggled getting her lip and mouthpiece to cooperate so that she could begin making music.  I took the flute and showed her how to roll the mouthpiece in/out to make the needed adjustments.  As soon as she heard the strong sound I was able to produce on HER flute, she shut down.  The flute was firmly disassembled, put away, and I was left with the echo "I HATE PLAYING THE FLUTE!" as she stomped upstairs to her bedroom.  I just stood there dumbfounded.

Once again, Jillian struggled with the pains of practice.  This was not the first time.  It took her much longer than necessary to learn how to ride a bike, because when practice got tough and success wasn't happening, she quit.  Practice was too painful and she convinced herself of 2 things:  1--she was always going to fail and 2--she didn't really WANT to learn anyway.  I'm sure a psychologist would have a hay-day with her!  Did I mention she is a mini-me?   hmmm...

Cross-country is another example.  When practicing got hard, I would pick her up from school and hear the frustration in her voice as the tears of "I don't want to do cross-country" ran down her face.  Mama put on her tough gloves and reminded Jillian that she made a commitment and needed to see it through.  The CC meet would soon be here and all her hard work would soon be worth it.  Of course this little pep talk fell on deaf ears.  Quitting was the only option she saw.  Even though she was excelling during practice, it was tough and just too painful in her opinion.  Her motto was becoming  "just stick with what comes easy".

Moving on to  yet another example--Dance.  Every Monday (for the last 3 years!) we repeat the same drama of "I don't want to go to dance class!"  This one totally confuses me!  She LOVES to dance, is extremely talented at Tap Dance, and LIVES for the stage and costume each May during recital season.  So why does she psyche herself out and not want to go each week to practice?  Because practice reminds her it isn't always easy.  It is painful.  Fortunately, the love of dancing is stronger than her fears (plus Mama knows her best and insists that she goes) and Jillian attends dance class every Monday night;  more often than not, leaving class with a smile.  :)

Math Facts, Reading, diving, piano, the list goes on for areas Jillian deems too painful to practice.  Oh, how I see myself in her!  The mirror is not always kind.  My mama's heart hurts for this daughter of mine who like me, struggles to see her worth in her imperfectness.  Practice means you aren't perfect and that cuts.  Why do we place such high expectations on ourselves?  We need to find the fun and pleasure in practicing and seeing growth over time.  Instead, we want it and we want it now.  Patience, or lack thereof, must also come in to play as I examine these character flaws evident in both our lives.  God loves us just where we are and yet He gently ushers us towards the improved being He can go before us and see.  We, on the other hand, want the maturity and skill without the perseverance and struggle of practice.

Thus the task of being a Mama continues and I get to take this journey with my precious mini-me.  Both of us pushing past the need to quit or avoid those things that heighten the awareness of our imperfections.  Our worth is not in our ourselves or what we can do; even after much painful practice.  Our worth is in the fact that we are daughters of the King and His love for us is so great that He lavishes it upon us in our imperfect messes.  Pushing through the pains of practicing will build character in our messy humanness.  Practice doesn't highlight the need or improvement, it demonstrates the drive of desire.

"See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!  And that is what we are!"   ~1 John 3:1

"Women and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Hormones"

You can see them on my face.  You can see them in my jeans.  You can see them in my attitude.  No matter how hard I try, I can never seem to disguise my hormones.  "Next month will be different."  It never is.  The definition of insanity is repeating the same behavior and expecting a different result.  That is hormones.  They repeat themselves with great predictability, yet I still expect myself to be able to control them for a better result.  I am insane to think hormones are controllable.  Where does that leave me?  Depressed.

For a year now I have said good-bye to the hormone "regulating" pills (hahaha) and embraced el-naturale hormones.  Surely those synthetic hormones were to blame for the repetitive roller coasters.  Guess what?  They're still terrible.  They're still horrible.  And they still repeat the misery with 100% predictability.  It's like seeing a freight train coming and knowing it's going to run you over...again.  Insane people think, "it won't hit me this time".  It always does.  Where does that leave me?  Frustrated.

I do not consider myself a quitter.  So for the past year.....I've tried diet, exercise, increased water in-take, extra sleep, "happy" pills, "water" pills, acne creams, and read too many books on PMS to count!  Yet, to no avail, have I found a defense against the hormones that continue to wage war on my body, my spirit, and subsequently my family.  How discouraging it is to be stuck--your spirit wants to be joyful, but your hormones keep sending you back to the familiar, and seemingly unavoidable pit.

As a Christian, I understand and wholeheartedly believe in the hundreds of Bible verses speaking to the condition of the soul.  God is my All and has promised to meet my every need.  Yet the struggle with the terrible, no good, very bad hormones continues.   This leads me to God, my Creator.  Hormones are no mistake on God's part.  He created them with purpose.  However, simply listing the pros of hormones will not level out the scale that is severely tipped to the negative side.  I must trust in His plan.  Heaven is promised to have no more sickness, no more tears, and no more suffering.  I believe Heaven will have no more hormones!  For all eternity!!!  So how do I function in the "now" while waiting on the "one day"?

The trial and error will surely continue.  I will keep searching Google for remedies to try and may even look into a hormone specialist (they exist, don't they?).  Either way, I will have to hit menopause at some point, right?  This hormone war can only last so long!  If nothing else, I will have earned medals for Bravery (going into public with severe bloating), Combat (fighting those monster zits), Marksmanship (poor Willie!), Purple Heart (mood swing casualties), and Tactical Achievement (evading PMS missile strikes) by the time I either get to menopause or "hormone-free Heaven"!

Imperfect Words Are Better Than No Words

Oh, how I have missed the feel of the keys clicking away as my thoughts pour onto the screen!   I am a blogger that needs to find (or rather, make) the time to indulge myself in the stress-reducing world of words.  I have always been a reader.  You can find books in just about every room in my house, every bag I carry around, and there is always one or two books on the front seat of my van.  But what I didn't realize was how not only reading words, but writing words, fills a desire inside of me too.  Quiet time to be still and dance with the words bubbling around my head and heart.

When I first started to blog, I had expectations for what I thought my blog should look like.  I wasn't even conscience of them, they were just my assumed visions.  Topics, length, editing tools, references, pictures, etc.  But over the course of these past few months, when my time has been devoted to other priorities, I thought I simply didn't have time to blog.  As January arrived and I thought about New Year's resolutions, I knew blogging was an area I wanted to strive to increase.  I wanted to blog more and possibly with regularity.  I needed a plan.  Set a goal and reach it!  Once a month?  Once a week?  This course of thinking caused me to unpack my blog expectations and I soon discovered I was placing too much on myself.  Perfection is not required.  Yet perfection has kept me from the words that bring me so much joy.  Just putting myself in front of this screen and back into the world of words has been so refreshing!  Oh, how I've missed the dance with words!

So while I remove perfection from this one tiny area of my life (perfection permeates my entire character!), I know that I can enjoy the freedom my blog gives me instead of limiting it to only those words that pass my own critical test.  It is far better for me to imperfectly blog from the heart, than to become distracted by perfection and miss the words that are never given the chance to be exhaled.