Tag Archives: God

The Shift.

Posted on by under Uncategorized

Knock knock. I’d ask if anyone is home, but I know the answer. This feels like opening a squeaky old door, timidly entering a long-lost room with cobwebs and old dreams scattered underfoot. I didn’t come here with the intention of writing anything; quite the opposite. After trying three passwords to find the correct key, I found my way back in and started digging back, back, back to that first blog post. The one I wrote sitting on my bed after church that January afternoon almost eleven years ago. I had no idea it had been that long. I didn’t remember the time of year and I didn’t remember my pastor’s sermon (sorry, Brian); I only remembered that it had spurred me to do something with the gnawing I’d had in my gut to give writing a go. So I did, and a decade later I’ve unwrapped them and decided to go from private to public in this space once more. This isn’t about me becoming a “blogger” again, I may not scribble anything else here for another decade. But today, it’s about me making space for what feels like another blank page I’m calling “The Shift.”

A lot has happened from thirty-six to forty-six. No more children (I read on my about page that I longed for gangs more than two…I honestly never remember having that thought. It’s funny how time erases some things.) Most everything else on that page still rings true, though. I’m a walking-talking oxymoron in many ways and still more than perfectly imperfect. Then there is Jesus. My Jesus who I felt so close to when I wrote on that new blank page. My Jesus who I served as well as I knew how for so many years…until I didn’t. My Jesus who never left me or abandoned me even when I abandoned Him. My Jesus who has been drawing me back closer and closer this past year. And now, the shift.

I don’t know what it means. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know where He’s leading, all I can see is His hand through the fog. And I’m at peace with that because in the fog with God is all the Light I need.

You’re welcome to poke around these old halls of mine; though I’ll ask for your grace in what you find. I don’t remember much of what I wrote, but I know it was important to me at the time. This space helped me grow in many ways, hopefully as a writer, but also more than that. In these words I hashed out who I was, who I had been and who I was becoming. In the past eleven years I’ve learned there’s beauty in it all, most especially the ashes.

xx,
m

Worth the Wait.

Posted on by under Daily Walk, Faith

I sat in that scratchy blue seat at the airport with a mindful of hopes and dreams as deep and wide as the blue sky and snow covered tarmac that stretched out before me. I had interviewed well…I thought. Really seemed to connect with my interviewers…I thought. Had a chance…I thought. One of three people to be flown to Kansas City to interview, I knew my chances were at least better than one in a million. One in three to be exact. Surely God was lining all of this up in my favor…I thought.

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I prayed diligently before flying out for the interview. I enlisted other prayer warriors in my life to pray diligently. I did not want this job, if God didn’t want me to have it…I thought. My specific prayer was that I would not get a job offer if God didn’t want me in the position. This was my fool proof attempt at not having to make the decision myself. Never sure of my own abilities to make a decision. It was the simplest way I could see my way out of this. Or my way into this.

A lot hung in the balance. We had one child, not sure if we wanted another. This job would be much more pay and I could already see the addition to the house I had been dreaming of. If not a new house altogether. That stack of dog-eared Log Home Living magazines were going to come in handy after all…I thought. This job would also mean much more time on the road and away from my family. But my husband was ready for the call…I thought.

Well, God did answer my prayer. Just as I had asked Him to. I didn’t get a job offer. He did exactly what I had asked him to do. Not give me a choice. He made the decision for me. This was what I wanted.

But it was not what I wanted. I wanted the job offer.

Even though I said I was “fine” with it…I wanted the job. I wanted the money. I wanted the prestige. I wanted the job. But I didn’t get it.

And because I didn’t get that job, I stayed in my previous job. And a year later I got an unexpected bonus, when nobody was getting bonuses. And God gave me repeated opportunities through that job to connect with people and share His Gospel. People I would have never had the opportunity to meet had I taken that other job.

The other job would have also brought many temptations that I would have had to stand up against. I see that now. I see a lot now that at the time I didn’t see through the veil of “want.”

And because I didn’t get that job, a year later our family expanded with the birth of our baby girl. Which undoubtedly wouldn’t have happened if I had gotten the offer…and accepted the other job. And I would have. Because in my gut I wanted it that bad.

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And to look back now and realize I would have traded her life for a job that would have taken me further from my family, and from my God…makes me weep. Weep for who I was then. And who I am now. And how blessed I am that God made that decision for me.

I could name many other instances in my life that didn’t happen the way I wanted them to, but looking back, I see God’s hand in them. And I’m beyond grateful for His provision and protection, despite my wants and perceived needs at the time.

Some things in life are truly worth the wait. Worth the heartache. Worth the gut-wrenching-soul-twisting-knot-producing wait.

In the end, God knows. He knows what we need. He knows when we need it. He sees the big picture. We do not. We can not.

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He saw me five years ago sitting in front of my computer and typing these words today.

He knew I was not ready to tell a story that I didn’t fully understand.

He used my tenure in my last job to prepare me for this day. All those quiet hours and tear-filled talks with one another rolling down the highway alone together. There were so many sweet moments in the cab of that Ford truck that I wouldn’t take back for anything.

And now I get to be a mom. And a truth-teller through my lens and my pen.

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And I’m in awe of my Mighty God that’s allowed it all to come to pass. And in awe of what He is making me into today. And tomorrow. And how ever many days I have left.

And to Him I give it all. My life. My family. My heart.

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He’s the only One worth giving it to. I see that now. I feel that now. I know that now.

And I have a long way to go…such a long way to go. But I’m on my way.

What awaits me at the end of this journey is going to be worth the wait.

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Worth the blood, sweat and tears it takes to get there. Worth the doubts and frustrations and fears along the way.

Worth the uncertainty. Worth the lows. Worth the highs. Worth the mountaintops and the valleys.

Worth the fights and struggles…with myself. Worth the fights and struggles…with God.

I’ll wrestle more. With my decisions, with my faith, with my existence. But in the end, my God will win. He always does.

I’ll continue to work out my salvation with fear and trembling, but I’ll be working it out.

If we belong to Him, there is no way He will not win. His ways will always supersede our ways. His will will always trump our will.

In the end…His end…will be worth the wait.

Isaiah 40:31

But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.

Graciously waiting,
Meredith

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The mule is blowing her lips.

Posted on by under Faith, Motherhood, Perfectly Imperfect, Uncategorized

My husband is full of one-liners. Spend more than a few minutes with him and you are sure to hear one. There is one I hear pointed towards me quite often and this time I said it before he could…”Yes, the mule is blowing her lips.”

And she was. That was me. The mule. Blowing her lips.

I was frustrated. Nothing really new for me, but my kitchen endeavors can bring it out in full force. This night was no exception. I have tried several times to make bread, but not often because I always end up failing. Miserably. Why I thought this time would be any different is beyond me.  I came across a recipe for the “Best Texas Roadhouse Rolls” and decided an hour before supper I could do this. I’m a woman. I should be able to make bread. Shouldn’t I?

I just happened to have a packet of “dry active yeast” (whatever that is) and I had one tbsp of butter even though it called for two, but surely that wouldn’t be a big deal. Butter and sugar had been on the grocery list, but on the way home from town the kids BOTH fell asleep, so I didn’t dare spoil a nap to stop by the grocery store for butter and sugar. It’s not like those are staples in my house or anything. I only make a gallon of sweet tea a day and cook everything in butter…with butter on top. And butter inside if it will fit. I’m southern. Don’t judge me.

I digress.  Back to the rolls. I will try to get on with the point, once I figure out what it really is.

It all started well. The yeasty-watery concoction started to “bubble” as it said it should. I warmed the milk and pat of butter on the stove to 115° using my dairy thermometer. I felt sure Martha Stewart would be proud of that little maneuver. Or Paula Deen or whoever is the latest and greatest tv chef star. I don’t have cable or satellite, so if they aren’t on PBS or Ion Life…I don’t know ‘em. I digress again.

I’m having a hard time focusing. Now we are probably getting to the point.

I’m sure the recipe I was reading was perfectly fine for anyone who has made rolls or bread or anything with yeast before. What else do you make with yeast? But I was not sure if I was supposed to “mix” and “stir” ingredients by hand or with my Kitchen Aid, which doesn’t get nearly as much use as it would like. Or my husband would like. So I used it.

The first 2 minutes of “fast mixing” were perfect. It’s when I went to “stir” the extra two cups of flour (Better for Bread flour, mind you…the expensive stuff…that’s probably 2 years old, but it’s been in the refrigerator, so that’s ok, right?) into the mix that things got a little “sticky.” I assumed to “stir” the ingredients I should use the “hook” attachment. I think that’s what it’s called. Anyway, I proceeded to do that at which time the flour exploded out of the bowl all over the counter and cabinet doors and me and down that black hole between my stove and counter, which is where that flour will stay for quite a while, I’m sure. And what was left in the bowl was a sticky, boogery mess. I think I just made up the word boogery, but it is the best word to describe it. The stuff looked and felt like a big bowl of boogers. My son agreed. And then I wondered why he didn’t want to try one after they were cooked…bless his heart.

The aftermath.

The aftermath.

Note the abyss between the stove and counter…that flour will rot there.

Note the abyss between the stove and counter…that flour will rot there.

At this point, I tried hard not to say a bad word. I don’t think I did. But I wouldn’t bet my life on it. What’s in the well does come up in the bucket, and I’m pretty sure my well was a little dirty at this point. I was this far in it and had wasted four cups of expensive (all be it old) flour, so I was going to see these little boogers through to the end. Pardon the very sad pun.

I finished up with the instructions as best I could and ended up with some sad looking rolls. The dough did rise, much to my amazement. The rolls did bake and sort of resembled rolls. Sort of. And they sort of tasted like rolls. Sort of. My kind husband said they “weren’t that bad, but seemed to be missing something.” Well, that was the understatement of the year. But what? What were they missing? I followed the directions as best I could. I only skimped a little on the butter and my flour was only a couple of years old and I’m not sure if I was supposed to use the mixer or not and really didn’t know how to roll the dough out, but other than that, I followed the recipe to a “T.”

Boogers rising.

Boogers rising.

And in the middle of my mishap, my kindergartener decided to continue his reading practice.  A small booklet on the kitchen table caught his eye and he asked, “Mom, is the title of this book, “God. Will. Use. This. For. Good.”? Yes, son, that’s the title of that book. And yes, son, He probably will.

God will teach me something from this “Merdie Mishap” tonight. He will teach me that a recipe is not just a list of ingredients for you to pick and choose what you want to use and how much and how you want to use them. If you don’t know what you are doing, you follow a recipe to teach you. Maybe one day you can tweak the recipe to make it better and give it your own flavor. But when you are a hopeless fool, as I,  and have no idea what you are doing, YOU FOLLOW THE DIRECTIONS.

How often do I do that with God? Take just what I want from the Bible and apply it just how I want just when I want and just as I want? More often than I would like to admit.

God gave us His Word so we would know his thoughts. His ways.

Psalm 119:105 
Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.

His instructions are for our good and His good pleasure.

Proverbs 4:13
Keep hold of instruction; do not let go;
    guard her, for she is your life.

Since the beginning of time nobody has been able to get this right. I wonder if Eve or Sarah or Rachel ever blew their lips like a mule? I endeavor to believe they did. And that makes me smile a little. Surely I’m in some like company…can I get an Amen?

God knew we were not going to get it. He knew we were not going to listen. And He knew that in our sins and struggles we would HAVE to come looking to Him for help or we would never find it. In the pit, the only place to look is up. Been there. Done that.

I’m thankful that I did accept His answer to my plea for help. And that He still answers me every time I call. And I can trust that He always will.

I will probably give up on bread making. For now anyway. They make really good rolls in the freezer section that take very little time and as my son pointed out, taste much better than my homemade version.

That being said, I will not be giving up on following God’s plan of instruction for my life. Being in His word daily, I’m finding wonderful insight and truths that I’ve never taken the time to see before. I can’t imagine how getting through the entire Bible will affect my daily walk. It can only be GOOD. And surely I will mess up. Again. Tomorrow. But, He will always be there to get me back on track.

God will always get me back on track, just like my husband does when teaching our children how to ride a horse.

Sometimes he has to take the reins and show them what to do.

Then they can take the reins themselves and mirror their father’s instruction.

The Bible is God’s mirror for us into His very soul. As His children, we should know it.

To know the Bible is to know God. To know God is to the know the Bible.

To know God is to have True Life. 

Moments of blowing our mule lips will come and go. (That doesn’t sound right, but it is what it is.)

God will always be our guide, waiting for us to ask for the Lead and waiting for him to Answer.

Sometimes the biggest lessons learned come in the waiting. And then the biggest rewards come after the wait.

To any other mule lip blowers…take heart. You are not alone. Maybe we could have a contest sometime? And then again, maybe not. 😉

Graciously,

Meredith

I knew I would be able to use this photo one day. Little man is not a mule, but he’s not little either.

I knew I would be able to use this photo one day. Little man is not a mule, but he’s not little either.