Round and Round

1 These are the words Moses spoke to all Israel in the wilderness east of the Jordan—that is, in the Arabah—opposite Suph, between Paran and Tophel, Laban, Hazeroth and Dizahab. 2 (It takes eleven days to go from Horeb to Kadesh Barnea by the Mount Seir road.)
3 In the fortieth year, on the first day of the eleventh month, Moses proclaimed to the Israelites all that the LORD had commanded him concerning them. 4 This was after he had defeated Sihon king of the Amorites, who reigned in Heshbon, and at Edrei had defeated Og king of Bashan, who reigned in Ashtaroth.
5 East of the Jordan in the territory of Moab, Moses began to expound this law, saying:
6 The LORD our God said to us at Horeb, "You have stayed long enough at this mountain. 7 Break camp and advance into the hill country of the Amorites; go to all the neighboring peoples in the Arabah, in the mountains, in the western foothills, in the Negev and along the coast, to the land of the Canaanites and to Lebanon, as far as the great river, the Euphrates. 8 See, I have given you this land. Go in and take possession of the land that the LORD swore he would give to your fathers—to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob—and to their descendants after them."

Once you get past trying to pronounce all the names in this passage (I just call everyone George and all the lands Main Street…it makes it easier to read, and still gets the point of the passage across), there is some really deep stuff in here. I was going over this passage last night after we read about it in Bible study. The book we’re doing is from Joyce Meyer. If you’re familiar with her at all, she’s very profound in person, but her Bible studies can be quite shallow. We’ve debated over whether they’re for new Christians who she thinks just need the basics (I beg to differ) or whether she is challenging the reader to dig deeper on their own for the meaning behind the points she puts forth. I personally choose to believe the latter, being one to give the benefit of the doubt.

At any rate, she was discussing the “wilderness mentality” that kept the Israelites from entering the Promised Land. Reading the passage, we see that they took 40 years to make a journey that should have taken 11 days. Why? Basically, they wandered in the wilderness afraid to face the giants that loomed in the land they were heading toward. Many times the Israelites complained and even wished they had stayed as slaves in Egypt because they at least knew what they were dealing with. Even though God was visibly with them, giving them shelter, shade, food and everything else they needed for 40 years (what grace!), they talked of going back and fighting the Egyptian army because it was at least more familiar than what lie ahead – and therefore less frightening. I don’t want to give the story away, but it turns out in the end, they only had to face 3 giants. Hardly seems worth putting off victory for 40 stinkin’ years! But fear of the unknown does that. Imagine being willing to stay a slave to your past for 40 years because you fear taking that step to move forward.

How many of us do that? How long have we wandered in the wilderness of our minds and our lives, walking around and around the same mountain because we are afraid to face a giant or two? I read through my blogs and see how I am still carrying stuff with me in a wilderness mentality. I am not going back into my Egypt, but I am not letting it go so I can enter the Promised Land, either. I still talk all the time about my past as if it still has anything to do with my future. It does not. Sure, it got me where I am, but it no longer has anything to do with where I’m going. I am claiming it now, with God’s help. I have dwelt at this mountain long enough.

I am free!

I’ll say it again.

I AM FREE!

I Who Know Nothing (Part 2)

This is a continuation of the blog on MySpace (myspace.com/dbackbarb) about posers (hence, part 2). I confessed having been labeled a poser in Jr. High when I decided I wanted to belong to a group of people. Now, I know all about being myself, thinking for myself, not following the crowd and all that. In fact, the crowd I wanted to join was one of the most unpopular, least represented in the school. It was probably not the best group of character traits to associate myself with, (I could have done without smoking and scaring small children…jk, no kids were harmed), but I found that out later.

About 4 or 5 years ago I came to a place in my life where I wanted a new identity. Granted, I haven’t exactly been a head-banging freak for all these years in-between, though I still enjoy my 80s metal. I just knew I needed something more; I needed to connect with something bigger than the things of the world that have not been faithful, fulfilling, or comforting in my life. I needed a relationship with God. So, I began seeking. I started out by asking others, who I knew already knew Him, to pray for me. At that point I was still an outsider. I started collecting little trinkets; first there were angels, then things with encouraging scriptures on them. Those made me feel better, but they didn’t make me a Christian. I started saying a little prayer here and there – mostly for something I wanted; I didn’t know how to pray, and I rarely remembered to anyway. It’s when Scott proposed and I felt a pressing urge to get married in a church that we started looking for and found the church we currently go to. I didn’t even buy a Bible until we had been attending for almost 4 months.

Since then, I have found the most awesome identity I could ever imagine. It’s not based on wanting to be around certain people, though I love the people at my church. It’s not based on following the mainstream. Being a Christian in today’s world, especially in my generation, is not easy. In fact, it’s almost like swimming against the stream. Like I should have realized in the 6th grade, it’s ok to love something. It’s more important that it’s a part of me than that I’m a part of it. Does that make sense?

Yet, there are still people who might call me a poser. No, it’s not the members of the church. At least not the church I go to. Maybe some others, but I’ll get to that point in a minute. See, there’s so much to knowing Jesus Christ. People dedicate their entire lives to learning, studying, and figuring out what it means to live like Jesus. And nobody has all the answers, except for God Himself. There are some answers - the Bible is full of answers – just not THE answer to ALL the questions we have, at least not that any earthly being has been able to figure out. If anyone says they have, they’re a liar.

So why are there so many people out there who expect me to have all the answers? The very day we get our Bible, like the day I put on my first homemade rock t-shirt, there are Jimmy Kings lining up to berate us with questions: “If you’re Christian, why do you sin? If you’re supposed to live like Christ, why do you hate certain kinds of people? I bet you can’t even name all the apostles.”

Here’s the deal. Life’s a journey. Everyone stumbles. Only One was without sin. Christian or not, it’s something we should all strive for, but no one – I mean NO ONE will achieve it. Being Christian isn’t about being perfect. It’s about knowing and loving God and honoring Him for everything He’s done for us. I love and honor my earthly father, but I’ve let him down so many times. I know he forgives me…yes, even for smoking in the bathroom. Even for sneaking t-shirts with skulls on them to school. Even for going to that concert in Tampa and getting stuck in Thomas’s van on the side of the freeway over night. He forgives me because he loves me unconditionally. How much more does God love me? It’s hard to imagine, as a parent myself now, but it’s true.

So am I a Christian poser because I don’t know everything? No. I’m still learning. And I will be for the rest of my life. And I’ll get things wrong. Should I not say anything until I get it right? Absolutely not. That wouldn’t be me.

Rough lyrics

I've struggled with writing Christian lyrics. Before it was easy - broken hearted country songs are not as difficult as the the Dixie Chicks make them out to be. But writing for God, well, that's pretty intimidating. What can I say that would be honoring enough? Or that hasn't already been said a hundred times? I finally decided it's kind of like praying...just say what's on my heart and God will be pleased. It doesn't mean I'm going to get rich and famous from it; my treasures surely lie elsewhere anyway - I've figured that much out by now. So here's my first somewhat attempt at a song. It doesn't rhyme or even have any meter, it's just a flowing of my thoughts:



Sweet baby in the manger
You came so You could know me
That this world could know You in the flesh
And follow in Your footsteps
Hear Your words
See Your love personified

I love You for You died
I love You for You rose
I love You for You live forever
To be my Lord and Savior
Mighty Redeemer

Though You knew they would condemn You
You brought Your message to the world
The very sinners who needed You to bleed
You carried Your cross before them
Still with love and mercy for their souls
As the hammer struck the nails

I love You for You died
I love You for You rose
I love You for You live forever
To be my Lord and Savior
Mighty Redeemer

The tomb could not contain You
The stone was rolled away
By the power of Your victory
By the awesomeness of majesty
Your promise lives forever
Let every tongue confess

I love You for You died
I love You for You rose
I love You for You live forever
To be my Lord and Savior
Mighty Redeemer

Satan Carries a Shrimp Fork

I posted a bulletin on MySpace about a little mishap I had. It involved stepping on a shrimp fork and puncturing the bottom of my foot. It's a long story, but the result is a little blood blister 2 days before I leave for a mission trip with our church youth group. We're going to the Navajo reservation in northern Arizona, and I'm very excited. In fact, the only thing I'm not looking forward to is having to wear close-toed shoes for the entire week. Ah, the sacrifices we make...

So I mentioned in my post that this little injury is going to make it interesting to do all the walking and hiking involved in the trip. It's really not that bad; Andrew kissed it and it feels better already. Anyway, one of my MySpace friends commented that maybe it was a message from God that I was not meant to go on the trip. I was quick to point out that God does not cause harm, but sometimes He allows it to happen to test our faith. Not that my little foot wound is comparable to, say, Job's trials, but it's the same concept. I reminded my friend that the sometimes the enemy puts obstacles in our path to keep us from doing God's work, but we have to see them for what they are and overcome them. How can you tell when the obstacle is from God or the enemy? I've always kind of gone by the thought that if it causes fear, anger, or pain, it's not God. If I have a peace that I can get over it, such as with the boo-boo on my foot, maybe it was just a little test of faith.

So she pointed out the times when, say, people can't find their car keys and know they're going to be late for work and have been told that if they're late one more time, they're fired. There's a lot of negative emotion going on there. Fear, anger, anxiety... But when they hit rush hour because they left late and are sitting on a bridge all stressed out and see an airplane hit the building they should have been in, is that from God? It's so hard to know.

Twice since the doctors told us not to get pregnant again, friends have called us with the hope of adopting a newborn. They knew a girl who got pregnant and wasn't ready to be and wanted to know if we would be willing to take the baby in. ABSOLUTELY!!! We never hesitate to say yes. What kind of Christians would we be if we asked these moms to choose life and then didn't offer a loving, secure home for their baby to grow up in. But each time, the mother did not choose to carry the baby. It's hard for us to hear that the choice has been made, not only because we've lost a potential addition to our family, but because I know how lasting the effects of that decision can be. One of my best friends made that choice in high school, and now at my age she still cannot conceive. Here she is 15 years later struggling with her choice and crying every day because of it. My question, though, is - is God trying to tell me 2 kids is where our family is supposed to be? I'm pretty sure He wouldn't use such extreme means to make his point, but it's been known to happen. After all, what did Job teach us but that God cares more for the Spirit than the flesh.

I have hope that God has a plan for me. There are obstacles that I don't understand. His ways are not mine, and I will never understand it all. After everything I've seen, though, I could never turn my faith from the knowledge that he has my best interest at heart, and that he is using me, punctured foot and all, for the exact purpose he created me for.

A Not-So-Well Oiled Machine

It has been my anti-privilege to work spend the last two hours on the phone with a government agency. Or should I say 6 offices or departments of said agency. You have to take Paper A to Office B, then call Department C to report Change D, at which time they will send you Form F....

We got one of those All-in-One printers this week. Scott hooked it up last night. He ran the print test to make sure all the ink jets were firing. The instructions then said to place the print out on the scanner, and the machine will check the alignment to make sure everything is hunky-dory.

I know a state agency that could learn a thing or two from an $80 Lexmark.

A Joyful Noise

I'm so blessed! That's not a novel statement for a mother of two wonderful children. Even when it's almost 10:30 and neither one is asleep, including the 2 year old who will probably be up at 7am begging for Cheerios and to have JoJo's Circus turned on. I just know it's worth it when I have a day like today.

We went to dinner to celebrate Bethany's graduation from the 6th grade. On the way home, we were listening to a CD of Christian songs I downloaded from iTunes. The whole family was singing along to Chris Rice's "Untitled Hymn." Scott and Bethany are pretty good singers, and they really belt it. But even over their joyful noise, I heard a tiny voice coming from the back seat: "sing to Ze-zus...sing to Ze-zus..." It was little Andrew singing along with the song, in real time, not repeating what had already been sung. I was amazed and proud at the same time. Our children's pastor is always talking about how kids "get it" at that age, even if its at their own level. Here was proof. Our little Andrew, who has music coursing through his veins (he's quite the little drummer, and showed off his break dancing skills tonight too, but that's another blog...) was singing praise to the Lord.

Personally, I have a habit of only singing if I'm alone, or drowned out by the radio or the church congregation. Scott tells me that I would sing better if I sang louder. Since I usually sit right behind the Pastor, I haven't quite had the courage to try that in church. I did give it a shot in the car on the way to Bible Study a couple of days ago. I had Third Day's "Cry Out to Jesus" cranked and I was matching the volume. My face all screwed up with emotion, I glanced to the side just in time to see two ladies from my Bible Study group in the car next to me waving frantically and grinning like a pair of Cheshire cats! Sigh...thanks, honey. Really.

Have you ever found a book in an unlikely place and known it was written just for you? I was checking out at WalMart yesterday when I noticed a rack tucked away in a corner full of Christian based books. Yes, Wally World has a section in their book aisle devoted to Bible studies and such, but here was a display (if you could call it displayed considering where it was) of books about life with Scriptural inspiration. There were books about raising children and even pets. The book I picked up is entitiled 30 Days to Taming Your Tongue.

If you know me, you know that I don't always watch what I say. Sometimes I think my "good sense" sensor was damaged during one of my strokes. I guess it's possible, but my Free Will was not. I can control the words that come out of my mouth, but sometimes I need help realizing that what's coming out is something that needs to be controlled. I used to call it, "telling it like it is" but when I stop to think about who I'm talking to or whether I would want someone telling me these things - well...

The Bible reminds us constantly to watch our tongues. They can be full of lies, hurt, gossip, slander, rudeness, judgment (one of my biggest personal struggles), complaints, accusations, and more. Like the Ring of Power, they can betray their owners without us realizing it. James 3:8 says "No man can tame the tongue" and I believe it. Only by trusting God can we accomplish anything, and this is no exception.

I'm not talking about turning into a timid or passive lackey. I will still voice my concerns when the situation calls for it. But if you notice me (shock!) stopping to think about my words before I say them, bear with me. I am working toward the goal of Isaiah 50:4 - The Lord God hath given me the tongue of the learned, that I should know how to speak a word in season.

Daily Blessings

Yesterday I went with my mother-in-law to the store and we stopped to pick up Chinese food for the family for lunch. There was a homeless man out front with all his worldly possessions packed in trash bags by his side. I began thinking about how stressed I have been about my family's financial situation in the coming year.

My husband is quitting work so he can concentrate on school and finish with focused learning in 2 years, rather than working 12 hour night shifts and only being able to take a couple of classes per semester which would last 5 long years. We are rolling his 401(k) into an IRA and withdrawing the maximum allowable without penalties based on our student status but I have no idea how much we'll be living on. We have other income, such as my disability payments that Metlife always seem to be ready to terminate at any moment. But I digress.

The important thing is that my worry stems more from losing the lifestyle I'm accustomed to. I will still have a roof over my head, a paid-off car that's only 3 years old and in very good repair. I still have a loving husband and 2 beautiful children that will have clean clothes and hot meals when we need them. In about 2 years when my husband finishes school, we will have the cushy income of an engineer. The man on the sidewalk had no such assurances. He didn't know where he would sleep or what or when his next meal will be. Seeing his great need helped me to settle in and be more at peace with the decision we have made. I wish I could have told him to be at peace with his situation, but all we could do is buy him a meal for which he was so very grateful. I pray I can remember to be equally grateful for my daily blessings from God. I am reminded of Proverbs 22:2 - Rich and poor men have this in common: the Lord is the maker of them all.