One crafty, shady dude

A question was recently brought up in a small group I attend, and it's had me reeling and searching for answers ever since.   A fellow groupie asked

"Can Satan hear our thoughts?"

Instinctively my answer was a resounding OF COURSE!  We've all battled those negative, depressing, want to sleep til tomorrow thoughts.  That has to be Satan, right?

But then, the more I broke it down and the more I talked through it, the more I became to understand that he actually cannot.

Then how the h-e-double hockey sticks does he have such an evil impact on us individually and culturally?

As the infinitely wise DJ Lance Rock says, "Ah-break it down"  (if you get that reference you're allowed to keep reading, if not, well youtube yo gabba gabba then I'll let you come back) 

Think of the person who knows you best.

Picture their face.

Got it?

For me, it's my husband, R.  Husband R knows me inside and out.  So much so, that he can consistently tell you my next move.  Throw me in a particular situation and he could accurately predict how I'll respond.  Ask him what's the one thing you could do to drive me bonkers and he'll have you traipsing across my newly mopped floor with your "grassy I just mowed a wet lawn" shoes.  It's possible he knows that from experience.  My point is, he doesn't just know me, he knows me.  But can he hear my thoughts?  Nope.  Can he read my mind?  Golly gee, I hope not.

Now, plug Satan into that example.  But magnify his abilities by infinity and give him the ultimate goal of making you the worst most horrible furthest away from God person that you could possibly be.   And he has unlimited resources with which to do that.  And, on top of all that, he's your worst nightmare mixture of creepy and clever.

He watches you're every move.  He can predict how you'll respond.  He knows what drives you bonkers.  And he uses that.  He's so good at it that he actually appears to be reading your mind, but he's not.  He's just incredibly crafty.  And I don't mean in the scrap-booking, home decor kinda way.

Recently I experienced the most head on direct attack from Satan that I have ever experienced in my entire life.  It had to do with our finances and the fact that we tithe and I don't work full time.  I just kept having these little thoughts creep into my head, "Stop tithing, think what you could do with that money.  Put Avery in daycare and go to work, she'll be fine and you'll have a real paycheck."  Both of these things are against what I believe God has called me to do and I was really struggling.  And I kept thinking to myself, fight it, this is Satan, he's taking over your brain.

But now I know he can't do that.  So just where did these thoughts come from?

Well, earlier that week Satan broke my garage door, well really I backed into it but it's because I was busy (which is Satan's number one way of getting in between us and God) and not paying attention.  That cost $500.  If Satan is so clever and knows so well what will set me off, then he knows having to shell out an unexpected five hundred bucks will do it.   The first thing I did was call Rob and tell him how upset I was and how we didn't have the money to fix this.  I asked all my friends to pray over our financial situation. I called my sister and angrily complained vented.  Guess who was listening....

Yup, you got it.  That crazy, crafty, clever, shady dude.

I just put weapons of warfare in his arsenal.  Armed him to take me down.  With my words alone, I gave him the knowledge that attack me financially and he could stand a chance at separating me from God's will.   He didn't implant thoughts into my head.  He didn't take over my brain.   He just listened.  For information from my own mouth, which, coincidentally flows from our heart, which the Bible plainly tells us is deceitful, without the help of the devil. 

So what happened?

Other things that cost money began to fall apart.  The garbage disposal broke, I got sick and had to go to the doctor, the dish washer quit working properly, gas prices went up.  And I began to think those thoughts, that if I changed the way I was living, to align myself with what the "world" would want me to do, that I'd have more money.

Look, I don't really know if Satan was hiding in the bottom of my garbage disposal with a screwdriver jabbing small holes into the bottom of it causing it to leak, but I do think he has the power to effect things like that.  Which in turn effects my thoughts.

Matthew 15:18-19 says  "...but what comes out of the mouth gets its start in the heart. It’s from the heart that we vomit up evil arguments, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, lies, and cussing. That’s what pollutes."  - The Msg

Notice it doesn't say that Satan pollutes.  It says what's in our heart pollutes our mouths.  Which Satan hears and has the power to use against us.

Hears the really fancy equation I've worked out in my mind

bad things happen just because that's life + you complain and yell loudly about it = Satan hears you and has the power to make more bad things happen

See, wasn't that fancy?

The takeaway is that you have the power to keep Satan out of your life.  Through focusing your heart on things of God.  Do this and your mouth will reflect the things of God.  And instead of Satan being able to use your words to tempt and corrupt you, he'll be sent running away like the wicked witch of the west screaming "I'm melting, I'm melting."

At least that's how it plays out in my head.

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It's all in the Handler

As we all know, the Olympics started this week.  And I must admit something to you.  I'm not that into them. 
I can hear you gasping. 
Shush it. 
I'm trying to type. 
Look, I get it.  Athletes train for their entire lives to win a circle of gold tied to a ribbon.  I'm sure it's exhilarating, really I'm not trying to be sarcastic.  But, I just don't get anything from watching them. So I turned the channel.  And as you would expect there wasn't much on, willing to compete with all you diehard Olympic viewers (pun intended.)  I finally settled on a dog show, I honestly don't even remember the name of it, but I like dogs so I watched.  It was an agility contest, you know, the kind where the dog runs 1,000 mph through tunnels and up ramps and over jumps, yea that one.

Tyson and I have even dabbled in it.

One of the dogs, lets call her Rosie (not her real name) messed up big time.  Rosie got lost, she couldn't figure out where to go next.  She recovered quickly though and finished the course but at the cost of a lot of points.  No way for her to win I thought.  But apparently in this contest each dog gets to go twice.  Rosie gets to go again, yay!  Who needs the Olympics with Rosie in action??  She completed her second course flawlessly and while I didn't watch the entirety of the show to see if Rosie won, I did catch an interview with Rosie and her owner.  The reporter asked in so many words,  "You had a fantastic run just now, what happened in the first heat?"  And her owner said "It's all in the handler. She doesn't know the course, I do. She's waiting on my cue, looking at me, asking 'Where do I go? Where do I go?'" 

How many times have we, like Rosie, gotten lost, only to be given a second, third and fourth chance, to try again where we first failed?  And how many times has God given us those chances?  Each new day is a re-do for me.  With every morning comes another shot at doing things right. Because that's the kind of God we serve. A God of mercy, forgiveness and grace.  And each day, we have a choice, do we navigate the course, aimlessly, on our own, or do we look to our Handler, with cherished uncertainty?

The difference is obviously, that Rosie is a dog following orders and her handler let her down. Rosie was doing as she'd been trained to do and was looking for direction. She didn't get any.  

Our God will never let us down.

He's always there ready to give us direction.

He will, without a doubt lead you through your course and across that finish line.

We just have to purposefully watch for his cues.

Intentionally look at him and ask, "Where do I go?"

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I lost my child, my mind and my cookies (almost)

In that exact order too.

It was terrible. Awful. 

We had just walked up the long pier from a lovely few hours spent at the beach when the terrible awful (phrase stolen from "The Help") happened.  There was a crowd of people standing around at the top of the pier waiting to use the showers/hoses. It wasn't like Concord Mills on Saturday morning crowded, but lets just say there were a ton of people hovering around trying to get sand out of who knows where. Seriously, why hasn't anyone invented a bikini bottom that doesn't fill up with so much sand that it looks like you've had an accident in your drawers?  Ladies can I get an amen?

Oh, back to the terrible awful, right.

Husband R heads off to the bathroom to change clothes while toddling A and I wait for our turn to rinse.  I'm not very good at sitting and waiting.  If I'm not being productive I feel like I'm wasting time.  So toddling A and I head over to the one square inch of open seating and I throw the beach bag onto the bench and begin organizing.  All the wet things in a pile and all the dry things in a pile.  Grab a beach towel, wrap all the wet things up and stuff them in the bag.  Grab the dry things and...toddling A?  Toddling A??  TODDLING A??? 

Child lost.

I look behind the bench, behind every single person there, no toddling A.  I begin yelling, "Has anyone seen a little girl in a purple bathing suit?"  Crickets...really, everyone just stared at me.  So I ask again, "HAS ANYONE SEEN MY BABY?"  No answer, I think one old lady with no teeth shook her head.  I give her some credit, I guess.  I run down the ramp towards the beach, I run the other way towards the parking lot.  I scream in at Husband R. "I can't find Toddling A, really I can't you need to get out here."  To which he replies, "I'm in my underwear!"  Great, just great.  My baby is missing and my husband is in his underwear.

Mind lost.

30 seconds, that felt like 900 hours, passed. Panic sets in.  Then I hear, "Is that her?"  And sure enough, here comes Toddling A, toddling, as she does, out of the women's bathroom.  She was terrified.  Less from her disappearance and more from the insane expression plastered across my face. I ran over to her, scooped her up and told her to NEVER again leave mommy's side.  She replies "Toddling A scare Mommy."  Nicely put my child, well done.

Cookies, almost, lost.

I held back the vomit and the tears but not the shaking.  Husband R, finally, fully clothed comes back out and gives me a sarcastic mother of year award.  I refuse to accept this award and we hurriedly and embarrassingly rush off to the car.

The terrible awful happened on Saturday, so I've had two days to replay the scene over and over again.  Where did I go wrong?  What can I change so this never ever ever ever happens again?

I was so concerned about standing around and not being productive.  I was focused on my beach bag, not paying attention.  And it's not like any of that really even mattered.
  
The moral of the story?

Get distracted by the insignificant and you'll lose sight of what's important.

So yes, from now on, there's less of the trivial things and more of Toddling A.  Less laptop and tv and more kisses and dance parties. Less feeling like I always have to be doing something and more sitting around snuggling. Not only do I never want to literally lose her again, but I also don't want to miss any of her growing up.

Who care's if my dry towel gets soaked by my sopping wet, sand filled bikini bottom anyways...

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Not really feeling the magic, Mike

I like facebook.  I can't deny it.  I like seeing pictures of my friend's babies, not so much pictures of their dinner (please stop), but I like keeping up with my friends.

Lately, though, I've been disappointed.  

Not in facebook itself.  But disappointed in the things I'm seeing pop up in my news feed.  I bet you, today, if I took a poll of the most popular thing being displayed on my home page, you'd see two words.

Magic Mike.

And I want to scream. Like wild banshee, red face, toddling A caliber scream.

I realize a lot of my friends on FB aren't Christians and not that that excuses them, but I can cut them some slack.  It's the friends I know that follow Christ and want to be Christ-like that make me shudder.

For those of you who aren't aware of this Magic Mike, it's a movie (being released today) that IMDB.com sums up as "A male stripper teaches a younger performer how to party, pick up women, and make easy money."

And there are Christ followers who want to see that?? 

***enter sound of my mind being bottled...err...boggled***

Kay.

Let's just dive into this..

Magic Mike is inspired by the true story of actor Channing Tatum, who himself plays the role of this so called Magic Mike.   I haven't seen this movie but I know from other movies that Channing is an attractive person.  I'll give you that.  But going to see a movie where he strips and picks up women just seems dangerously close to porn.  Don't get me wrong, I know this movie isn't porn, and go ahead and call me a prude for comparing this movie to it, but really I think this movie and porn are going after the same desire.  

Lust.

I'm convinced the person walking into the theater to watch this movie isn't saying "what an interesting young fellow, I'd really like to know more of his life story."  No, the people walking into the theater to watch this movie want to see Channing and his friends take their clothes off.  That's lust.

  

"Jesus made it clear that when we give in to lust, it is akin to the act itself. It makes no difference whether you know the person or not; lust is not tied to relationship." - Pastor James White 

Pastor Jim also says "Sin of any kind desensitizes your spiritual life. Continued exposure to a sin such as pornography is like shooting novocaine into your soul. It deadens you and grieves the Holy Spirit in your life, forcing Him to withdraw His utmost filling in a way that diminishes His power and presence in your life"  (you can read the whole post at Church and Culture)

I am a sinner, that's no secret.  I mess up daily.  But I try tremendously hard to not willingly and knowingly deaden my soul and separate myself from the Holy Spirit.

Craig Groeschel, in his book Soul Detox puts it like this "As we become scarred and desensitized to what is right and wrong, good and evil, life-giving and life-draining, we lose sight of our first love. We move away from God one degree at a time."

I can't stop you from going to see this movie, but I do hope that before you buy your tickets, you'll ask yourself, "Is this right or wrong, good or evil, is this life-giving or life-draining?" 

Groeschel also says "Do you think that what we consider laughable, entertaining, or simply fun, God might find heartbreaking?"

Hmmm....

I know some of you are saying, really? You're overreacting, it's a harmless movie and all my friends want to go see it, I don't want to get left out.

And this is what I'd say to you, if you were sitting on my couch right now, "Become wise by walking with the wise; hang out with fools and watch your life fall to pieces."  Ok, those aren't my words.  That's Proverbs 13:20.  

I've watched my life fall to pieces before.  Not really keen on repeating that.

One of my dear friends, a woman who I admire with everything I have, recently wrote a blog post similar to the point I'm trying to make here, but in reference to the book Fifty Shades of Grey.  Brittney says "we completely miss the evil that is sneaking into our souls from more subtle influences. Putting poison like this into our minds, things you know aren't at all pleasing to God, will most assuredly start to take your life."

See why I admire her so much?

And she's right. 

Magic Mike, being rated R, shown publicly in a theater setting is sneaking into many souls this weekend. Poisoning minds. Taking lives.

How about "Rather than sinking into the quicksand of sin, you swim into the clean water of God's forgiveness and cleansing love." - Groeschel

That's a movie I'd pay to see.

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Rejoice in your reality

photo courtesy of rippedusa.com

Maybe it's just me. But there are days, truth be told, most all days, when I look in the mirror and see nothing but flab and gray hair (yes, me, before the age of 30, shocking I'm aware) and how my clothes fit in all the wrong ways.  I go through the list of things I WILL change.  I will eat less and workout more and scrape together the pennies it takes to consistently dye my hair.  Usually that list runs through my head while I eat my pop tart and scarf down my coffee while running out the door because I couldn't even wake up early enough to get out of the house on time, much less have time for exercise.  But if I'm literally running out the door, that counts for something right?

I grew up with a mother who was always trying to lose 5lbs and aunts, cousins and uncles who are exercise and health food feigns. The kind of people that, not intentionally, definitely not on purpose, make you feel worse about yourself and all the things you're NOT doing to "keep up."  I love my family, they are fantastic people, but their lifestyles and constant focus on their image and material things leaves a certain someone feeling a little unworthy.   And I'm not against self improvement, I know health and fitness are very important, but it's the untruths that I allow myself to believe about myself that are the issue.

We all know being prideful is a sin.  A large portion of Proverbs addresses pride and how the foolish are prideful. It's where we get our saying "pride comes before the fall."  And we work hard to not have others see us as arrogant or egotistical.

We get that.

But, this is a big BUT...(not big butt)

Did you know that self deprecation, the exact thing I'm doing when I look in the mirror, tearing myself down, is also a form of pride????

Think about it.

I am too fat. I have bad hair. I need better clothes. I...I...I...

Anytime the focus is on I, (whether "I am the GREATEST thing since sliced bread" or "I am a COMPLETE FAILURE"), and not He, you're being prideful.

“Whoever humbles himself like a child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 18:3-4

A humble person doesn't feel shame or guilt.  A humble person has a clear view of reality.

Take for example an incredibly talented singer.  It's clear that this artist is good, but yet she always says that she's not. When complimented on her skill, she replies that she was terrible and really shouldn't be a musician at all.

That's not a clear view of reality. 

And it's also not giving credit where it's due.

Her response should be, "Thank you, my talent comes from God."

That's not prideful or arrogant, that's being humble. 

"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well." Psalm 129:13-14

Every time I say to myself that I'm not good enough, I'm telling God straight to his face that what he has created, IN ME, is not good enough. That His work is not wonderful.

That's a scary road to travel.

If you're successful at your job, be thankful God gave you the knowledge to be good at it.
If you are analytical and practical, be happy God has privileged you with such a great skill.
If you are known for your ability to love and encourage, be grateful God gave you such a big heart.

We need to quit tearing ourselves down and rejoice in our reality.

Only then can we truly be humble.

Tomorrow I will look in the mirror and see a woman, molded and crafted and wonderfully made by her Creator, not her imperfections.

And so should you.

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Breath of Fresh Air

Ride a bike 34 miles. Seems daunting. Now add 3 flat tires and a busted tread. Suddenly it seems like a "no good flat out impossible was supposed to be fun for our 5 year anniversary now it isn't why the heck did we do this?!?!?" spectacle.

But in the moments of no flat tires and beautiful scenery and husband R leaving me in his dust, my mind wandered away, thinking about how I could turn this into a blog post.

Marriage is like biking.

Or, marriage is like biking with a flat tire.

Or, marriage is like biking with a flat tire, having to stop 3 times to change it, crying, yelling and somehow by the GRACE of God finishing alive.

But all that's been played out. You've certainly read that blog post before.

So what did I learn then? Surely God didn't bring such a biking adventure just for us to dust it off and move on. Right?

The first time R's tire exploded went flat, we pulled of the trail and opened our quote unquote survival kits the bike rental place gave us.  We had a bike pump, luckily, but a hand pump, which I'm pretty sure I could have been more successful if I had just put my mouth to the dang tire and blew.  So thankfully a family with a full size bike pump stopped to help.  They were nice, albeit a little annoyed at having to slow down their trip, but they did us a huge favor by allowing us to blow up the tire in about 1/100th of the time it would have taken us with our other dinky little pump.

The second time R's tire committed suicide went flat was no less than 30 seconds after we repaired it the first time.  While inspecting the damage and mumbling a few not so very nice words,  another couple stopped to help. They knew terms about bike tires that sounded like a different language.  When asked if something was connected to the something that kept the other something from losing air I replied with "yes, but why don't you take a look just in case."  I mean who takes on biking 34 miles without knowing about the something being connected to the something?  Not us, definitely not us.  This couple was so incredibly helpful and generous.  They diagnosed the problem, patched the tire from the inside out, with their personal stash of tire patches, put air in the tire, and then wished us luck on our 14 miles to the half way point. We would absolutely have not been able to continue our trip had it not been for them.

Both families were nice, both stopped to help. So now, I could tell you the Good Samaritan story.  Rob and I definitely got passed by plenty of times with only a few stopping to help. But I'm sure you've heard that one too.

This goes deeper than that.

Most of us want to do the right thing.

But why?

Are you like the first family who stopped to help us? They knew it was the right thing to do so they did it.  But they certainly didn't hide the fact that they were inconvenienced. Yeah, ok, here's a pump, glad we could help, see ya.

Or are you like the second couple?  They too knew it was right to stop and help us.  But they went further.  They weren't going to just help, they were going to stay with us and work at fixing the problem until they knew we could make the rest of the trip.  They sacrificed they're own security (extra tire patches) to save us.  We may not have mattered to anyone else busily rushing down the trail, but we mattered to them.

Selfless.

Do you do the right thing out of obligation?  Or do you do the right thing because it actually matters to you?

This realization definitely convicted me.  I write encouraging emails and send cards and give toddling A high fives and help friends with dog sitting and pat husband R on the back and hand out money to the needy when I can.  Okay, great, good job, what, you want a cookie?   Am I doing these things because I'm simply avoiding my conscience keeping me awake at night or because I'm trying to live in light of eternity?

Eph 2:10 says "For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do."

We're his handiwork, he has prepared good things for us to do.  Let's recognize those good things, and do them not for the person in need, but for Christ Jesus.
I want to live like that.

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It's between you and God.

       People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered.  Forgive them anyway.

 

            If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.  Be kind anyway.

            If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies. Succeed anyway.

           If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you.  Be honest and sincere anyway.

            What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight.  Create anyway.

            If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous.  Be happy anyway.

            The good you do today, will often be forgotten.  Do good anyway.

         Give the best you have, and it will never be enough.  Give your best anyway.

         In the final analysis, it is between you and God.  It was never between you and them anyway.

**composition originally by Kent Keith, above quoted directly from www.momastery.com**

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