Courageous or Cowardly?

"I don't feel like I started well. I want to finish well."

This statement reflects my sentiments as I think about things like courage on this Memorial weekend and the men and women who have bravely served this country to defend our liberties and freedom.

The line comes from the powerful movie, "Courageous."

I think about wars, present and past and the real battles that we fight every day in our country, in our families, and in our minds.

I think about the opposing forces and often look down at my feet to see which side I'm standing on, moment by moment and I realize how cowardly I can be.

Just like the cowardly lion, "You're right, I am a coward! I haven't any courage at all. I even scare myself!"

Boo!

He reveals again his personal insecurities in song, "I'm sure I could show my prowess, Be a lion, not a mouse, If I only had the nerve."

Elisabeth Elliot's husband was killed along with 4 other missionaries in Ecuador. She said that her life was controlled by fear. Every time she would start out to minister, she was controlled by fear. Finally one day a friend asked her, "Why don't you do it afraid?"

I heard this story listening to Joyce Meyer and it resonated a lot with me because I have a lot of fears I am dealing with right now.

Fear of failure.
Fear of success.
Fear of finances.
Fear of the unknown.

I've rolled it all around in my head, thinking about fear and thinking about courage.
And I determined that I was going to move forward, and do it afraid.
"Fear Not!" God said, "For I am with you."

I think about it when I'm driving in my car, blaring K-LOVE, listening to Casting Crowns sing,

We were warriors on the front lines, standing unafraid

But now we're watchers on the sidelines, while our families slip away...

Where are you men of courage, you were made for so much more..

Let the pounding of our hearts cry, we will serve the Lord.

There are a lot of folks that gave that movie terrible reviews.
My guess is that's probably because it hit a little too close to home.
We looked at the widescreen and saw how compromising and cowardly we can be.

Great. Now I'm hearing Kenny Rogers singing, "Everyone considered him, the coward of the county..."


For me, I walked out of that movie wanting to do better for myself and my family.
And yes, I honestly wondered, "Where are you men of courage?"
I wondered if I could ever find a man of courage like that, doubted it, and determined to be a little more courageous myself.

And I'm trying. Truly.

I sincerely do want to live without the Fear Factor!

Back in bible times, it says in John, that no one had the courage to speak favorably about Jesus in public, because they were afraid of getting in trouble....

Interesting. I'm kind of a trouble maker. :) Trouble makers unite!! United we stand, divided we fall.

We are told in Philippians to stand together with one spirit and one purpose, fighting together for the faith... and not be intimidated by our enemies.

On the yellow brick road of life, I want to escape victoriously from the wicked witch of the west and the evil flying monkeys!!

Were those things scary or what???

I want to stroll through a field of poison poppies and knock the big brass knocker on the door with boldness.
I don't want to be like the cowardly lion who said, "I'd better wait for you outside."

I really do want to see the great and powerful "Oz."

Because I believe it's true that there is "no place like home."
But this not my home.
And I wouldn't be caught dead in those blinged out ruby slippers!

Lord make us courageous!

Happy Fun Girl: I Really Love Your Peaches!

Happy Fun Girl: I Really Love Your Peaches!: ".....wanna shake your tree."  - Steve Miller Band. "You may freely eat the fruit of every tree in the garden." - God. "You may especially...

I Really Love Your Peaches!

".....wanna shake your tree." - Steve Miller Band.
"You may freely eat the fruit of every tree in the garden." - God.
"You may especially eat from the two, 30 year old, peach trees in my backyard." - Me.

Notice that I didn't say freely?
It's gonna cost you.
A limb or two.
At least.
I strongly dislike pruning. I don't like to do it, and I don't like having it done.
I don't like doing it to my trees, I don't like having it done to me.
(I do not like green eggs and ham!) Sorry.
It started to get a little sing songy there for a minute.

My peach trees are some of the oldest in town that I am aware of.
They are the first to bloom faithfully every February, and the pink and red blossoms are spectacular!

This morning I was prompted by Joel Olsteen's daily devotional to grow where I'm planted.
Some days I feel like I am developing root rot, or just plain bore disease and have nothing left in me to Bloom!

I'd much rather just enjoy the blossoming and skip over the pruning part of the whole growing process.
But, I know that it's a necessity if I want to have big, tasty, juicy fruit.
Perhaps I can just buy a five stick yellow pack of gum for a quarter, and call it a day?

I have tons, and tons of peaches on my trees right now and I can't get to them quick enough.
Some are large and some are small...
Some they stay and some they fall...
(Oh gosh, I'm doing it again.)
Truly, they fall about 12 feet down and smash on the ground!

The butterflies are enjoying the nectar far more than I am enjoying the stench that reminds me of wiping down the bar after a bunch of drunk college girls, who kept spilling Fuzzy Navels all over the place, while flirting with the bartender.

Okay, I've spilled a few too, but now it's just stinking, rotten fruit laying on the ground.
Now, I have to maneuver around the fruited land mines while trying to get to the good stuff without stepping into sticky, squishy, peach pulp that gets stuck between my toes!

I think they call that toe jam?

I wouldn't be having as much of a problem with all of this if I had pruned better earlier.
Yeah, I plucked a few here and there.

'Cause I'm a picker, I'm a grinner...


There were cluster upon clusters of peaches and I know they are supposed to be about a hands width apart to form large, luscious fruit. They don't like overcrowding apparently anymore than I do.

But I just couldn't bare to do it. I am not the Master Gardener! Who am I to say which one to pluck?
I kept thinking that maybe they would all grow into mature fruit miraculously, some other way.
Maybe this would be the year that the branches would be strong enough to hold the heavily weighted limbs?

They needed to be cut away before the season began, and I knew it, I just didn't do it.

Jesus, in John 15, makes a distinction about two different types of pruning.
There is either a cutting back or a cutting off.
"He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn't produce fruit, and he prunes back the branches that do bear fruit so that they will produce even more."


Fruitful branches are cut back to promote growth. God sometimes disciplines us to strengthen our character and faith. But branches that don't bear fruit are cut off at the trunk not only because they are worthless but also because they can often infect the rest of the tree. (Tyndale's NLT New Living bible footnotes)

Interestingly, it goes onto explain that "fruit" is not limited to soul winning, but sometimes refers also to joy and love.

"I'm a lover..."

I need to stay attached to the life giving source, which is God in order to produce good fruit.
Juicy Fruit!
And sometimes, I have to allow the painful cutting back of certain things for new growth to continue.

"and I'm a sinner..."


As much as I wish I could just chop dead wood and limbs with one fell swoop of a trusty ax, most times I have to use a dull, blue hand saw that has very rusted blades. It's a painfully slow process.
Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth....it seems to take forever to cut back.

"You didn't choose me, I chose you. I appointed you to go and produce lasting fruit, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask for, using my name."

Mmmh? Lasting fruit?
As in....a long shelf life?
Cool! 'Cause I canned too!
Whatever I ask for?
Here goes then, "In Jesus' name, get me out of this Jam!"

"And lovey, dovey, lovey dovey, lovey dovey all the time...."
You just went made the "wrah wrah" noise didn't you?

Happy Fun Girl: How to Stay Alive at a Cake Walk

Happy Fun Girl: How to Stay Alive at a Cake Walk: I love pie. I love cookies and I love cake. And Ace of Cakes! I want to have my cake and eat it too. Who doesn't? My friend Cindy remi...

How to Stay Alive at a Cake Walk

I love pie.
I love cookies and I love cake.
And Ace of Cakes!

I want to have my cake and eat it too.
Who doesn't?
My friend Cindy reminded me earlier today that life is not always a cake walk.
Why the heck not?
My life more accurately reflects Kitchen Nightmares, but I I really, really love Cake Walks!
Remember them from elementary school?
Those were the super fun, carnival kind of nights that the PTA put together to promote a love for education and learning.
Also, an opportunity to boost rubber duck sales used in the Duck Pond game I'm pretty sure.
I sucked at that game. This one? That one? Ugh! Which duck is the winning duck?
Typically, I picked the one that won me a roll of Sweettarts instead of the cool plastic rainbow kite that I really wanted.
Later, in my honor, my brothers would rename them, Sweetfarts. 
What a gas.

Our family always attended the Family Fun Nights.
There was Bingo, Balloon Darts, Face Painting, Fishing Pole & Cake Walk games.
Typically, we enjoyed a fun round of throwing verbal darts at one another in the white station wagon on the way there.
"You're ugly. How'd you get so ugly?"
"You're adopted. Nobody will tell the truth, but you are. You were an orphan boy when we found you so shut up!"
"Brace Face!"
"Fat Boy."
"Mom, she called me fat!"
"You are fat!"
"You're still ugly."
We weren't focused on political correctness in the 70's.
Or kindness to our siblings.
Eventually, out of nowhere, my other brother would chime in some random and ridiculous fact that none of us cared a rat's &*^ about, "You know what happens when a yellow light is changing to red? There is a mechanism that...."
"SHUT UP BORRIS! NOBODY CARES!" in unison, both parents included, dad with his Pabst Blue Ribbon breath.

My brothers especially excelled at dart throwing. Verbal and otherwise.
They also shot me in the face once with a BB gun. I have a scar on the left side of my nose to prove it.
It's much more obvious than the internal ones you can't see. :)

Inner beauty, focus on inner beauty, ugly duckling.

My mother was a true beauty. She really was.
It was always fun to walk into school with my mom who looked like Barbara Eden in Harper Valley PTA minus the gogo boots, when I myself, looked like Drew Barrymore in Never Been Kissed.
Literally. Picture it. Headgear and all.
Not exactly a walk in the park.
But hey! It's Family Fun Night and I might get a chance to win the Cake Walk.

What could be more fun than prancing stealthily in a circle while listening to, "Stayin Alive," and hoping you are standing on the right spot when the music stops?
Praying never ever crossed my mind back then. Finger crossing yes, praying, not so much.

Round Two.
You're the one that I want, you are, you are, you are...Choco-late Cake...
Honey...
I was very good at winning Cake Walks back then.
Or at least a pan of brownies.

Dear God, do not let me win the Fruit Cake!

Round and round we go, then stop, then go....musical interlude...
I always jam music in the kitchen when I'm baking.
I don't wake and bake anymore and cheery baking requires a few cups of coffee and a lot of prayer to get myself into a full on, "Rise and Shine" mode.
I'm not an early morning good mood girl without assistance of some sort.

Loud music generally helps my cakes rise beautifully.
Sadly though, I always open the oven way too early and watch it fall faster than you can say Rachel Ray or souffle.
Or pride comes before a fall.
Ugh.

For a souffle, the magic rise is in the eggs.
Mine just tends to end up on my face.
A souffle isn't a cake anyway, they're in a different family of baked goods.

And, for the record, there is no "magic rise" happening because my temperature gauge thingy is broke...
It runs way too hot and I tend to burn things to smoldering ashes.

Am I still going in circles? Is the music still playing?

I've been kicked around
since I was born....
And now it's all right, it's ok
and you may look the other way
We can try to understand
The New York Times' effect on man
I really hope AND pray my new book, Pig's Big Adventure makes it to The New York Times Best Selling List!
What a delicious recipe for success that would be!

"They brought the Ark of God and placed it inside the special tent David had prepared for it. And they presented burnt offerings...."


Burnt offerings? Check.

"and peace offerings to God. When he had finished his sacrifices, David blessed the people in the name of the Lord. Then he gave every man and woman in all Israel a loaf of bread, a cake of dates...."
No thank you, I'm full.

"and a cake of raisins." 
Oh sweet Jesus! I said no Fruit Cake!

Life IS like a Cake Walk.
And in this game, I am a chosen child of God...
I just want to win the Sinfully Delicious Three-Layer, Blue Ribbon Chocolate Cake.
And a plastic rainbow kite to fly when I'm done burning stuff.

(1 Chronicles 16...read it while waiting for your cake to rise...totally tasty!)

Live Debt Free

I admit it.
I'm in debt up to my eyeballs.
Probably all the way up to my eyebrows.
My daughter and I were just discussing the other day how desperately we both need to be "tweezed".
Not to be confused with "tazed"...that was a discussion I had with one of my other daughters. :)

Gone are the days of getting our brows waxed and pretty pedicures.
Don't misunderstand me. I'm no Paris Hilton.
I didn't even get my first pedicure until I was 40!
But, wow! when I did...

Gone are the days of walking through Target, HEB or American Eagle and not even looking at the price tag.
Needy teenager presents the item, the tag is inspected, the shocked and horrified face follows, said item goes back on the rack with an, "Ugh! We can't afford it."

Paul, the wise and wonderful apostle said that he has had plenty and he has had nothing.
He also said the key is learning to live contently with whichever situation you are in.
Okay, I get it.
I'm content.
But, I'm just going to be straight up honest and say, "Being broke is no party!"

Faith is the only thing I've got in my savings account right now.
Ditto with the checking.
In fact, the last time I checked, I realized once again how much I am in fact, "The $500.00 Debtor."

I think about my mountainous debt situation and am reminded of the first story I ever heard when I walked into a non-denominational church years ago.
The story that brought me to my knees.
I will never forget Luke 7:36, or the priceless lesson I learned from it.

"Learning to live debt free in 700 AD!!"
Just kidding. I have no idea what decade this happened in.

Here was a woman with a tainted reputation.
Uninvited, she crashes a dinner party at some religious guy's house.
Not because she particularly wanted to dine with the Dead Sea Elitists, but because she heard he was in town and absolutely had to see Jesus!

She brought a beautiful alabaster jar filled with expensive perfume and knelt behind him, weeping and wiping her tears from his feet with her hair; kissing, caressing and putting perfume on them. I get that. I would have done the same thing. I think about what it will be like when I finally do, and I drop on a dime.

The Pharisee who invited him saw this and scoffed to himself, "If this man were a prophet , he would know what kind of woman is touching him. She is a sinner!"

Can't you just imagine his disgust and arrogant demeanor?
Jesus answered his thoughts and said, "I've got something to tell you."
"Go ahead."

"A man loaned money to two people-500 pieces of silver to one and 50 pieces to the other. But neither of them could repay him, so he kindly forgave them both, canceling their debts. Who do you supposed loved him more after that?"
Simon answered, "I suppose the one for whom he canceled the larger debt."

Ya think?
I heard that story and the red button bank alarm inside of me went off loud and clear.
I am the $500.00 debtor!

For years my girls have given me a hard time for becoming emotional during worship, or just randomly out of nowhere driving down the road. I've tried to explain to them just how indebted I feel and how I know that I cannot ever even begin to repay my debts.

Not without Jesus anyway.

I understand that woman far more than I understand those in leadership who've followed the letter of the law.

I have been forgiven so, so much....and so, I love much.
Jesus paid my debts. All of them. Every last penny.

This is my favorite part of the story;
After he was done giving Simon the hard line of "Hey, Buddy...you didn't even offer to wash my feet, greet me with a kiss or dab a little canola holy oil on my head....but this woman has not stopped kissing my feet since the minute she walked in."

Jesus went on to say, "I tell you, her sins, (and they ARE many), have been forgiven; so she has shown me much love. But a person who is forgiven little, shows little love."

Then Jesus said to the woman, "Your sins are forgiven. Your faith has saved you. go in peace."

I really wasn't kidding.
Faith is all I have in my savings account right now.

The same faith that has saved me and the same faith that will bring his promises to come to pass in my life.
Promises like, "I am rich in every way, (though not currently reflected in my bank account)...just yet!"
I believe the word is true and I've got faith.
Then I'll be thanking Jesus, bawling all over the place, and grateful as he** that I can finally get my toes done once again!

May Day! Door knob Do-hicky or Distress Call?

A few days ago (now that I'm almost finished with this blog), it was May 1st, and in my enthusiasm to salute spring, the celebration of Motherhood, Cinco de Mayo and the last month of school, I had hoped to adorn the neighbors door knobs in true May Day fashion.

As a little girl, on this special day we would make hand made baskets out of things like Dixie Cups or paper plates and decorate them beautifully.

Next we would tie little ribbons through the top and fill each one with assorted tasty treats like popcorn (I'm a corn girl, I love all things corn) miniature candy bars, Hershey's kisses, a few little flowers we'd pick from the yard, etc...

Then we'd run around like special op agents hanging them on friend's and neighbor's doors, ringing the bell and running off to hide somewhere while we watched for their smiling faces to appear happy and surprised.

Some surprises are not so grand, but this was a fun way to brighten people's day and also a great reason for my friends and I to get together, get crafty and eat chocolate.

Many times I've mentioned it to friends here in Texas, well, probably 15 times to be exact, every year since I've been here anyway.

I'm always sadly reminded that not many people here have a clue what I'm talking about.
I was happy to see a Facebook post the other day from Connie, who apparently also has fond memories of the holiday.

I was excited to think about making my own baskets and pondering what little goodies I could put in them, but found myself quite distracted with the other kind of May Day.

You know, the one that you call out if you are in a dire emergency and in need of some assistance.
MAYDAY!
I read that you are supposed to send out the distress call three times and only if it is a serious emergency that could result in death or destruction of a vessel.

Lol! Indeed there may be death or destruction as I had the opportunity to celebrate my own three Mayday shout outs.
And although I'm not at liberty to elaborate on any of them at this point, because, well, go back and read my Duct Tape Doctrine blog that pretty much sums up, "shutting your big fat mouth" as my mom would say. :)

Mother May I?

My personal motherhood experiences are not so much gracing the covers of any Hallmark cards, though I am aware of how entertaining, yet not so endearing they would read.

Tragedy plus time equals comedy, I've recently read.

Maybe if they start carrying card stock "Jerry Springer type" sentiments...
Oh, no wait, who knows, maybe the new best selling line could be the, "No More Wire Hanger Greetings."

I may have to submit some samples of my work.

"Congratulations on not getting your butt kicked in jail!
You've always been a fighter!" 


:D


Anyway.... back to Mayday!!!
During my nine hour drive the other day, It registered in my brain that it was May Day, but I would absolutely not be making any Martha Stewart handmade baskets.

Instead, I fancied myself to be a lot like the guy standing on the bridge of the titanic when he realized with wide eyes, "Oh wow! That is a really BIG iceburg!"

I wonder if he, like me....just for a minute or two wondered what it would feel like to hit it.
The iceburg.
The reverse rudder was not working.

Will some nice mom remind me again why we celebrate Motherhood?
Am I the only one who would have been screaming, "No! Get your own wood door for a flotation device! There's not enough room for us all, you're drowning me, get off already!"

Oh sure....it started out as a walk on the water with Jesus kind of day but ended up with the distress call.
Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!

I learned in an in depth, five second study that a Mayday Relay is a call that someone else makes for you if you are unable to make the call for help on your own.

Aaaaha!! Now I'm on to something.
"Hello? Coast Guard?"
No wait.
"Jesus? Beloved water walker?"
"I'll bring you some pretty popcorn filled baskets if you promise to keep us all from drowning!"

"A shout for help brought their partners in the other boat, and soon both boats were filled with fish and on the verge of sinking." Luke 5:7

If I'm going down...the tasty fish are going with me!

Happy Cinco De Mayo a day in advance.