Yes, I really just said that. Shocking? Refreshing? Thought-provoking? Well, it’s not really my idea. It’s a song by Gungor, a Christian group I absolutely love. And while I didn’t think I thought God was a white man with a big white beard and long, flowing robes, isn’t that what I’ve been shown all my life? And that Christ is blue-eyed with soft, dirty blonde locks? You see, it doesn’t really matter what God looks like. Only, it does. It does matter when we start thinking that God belongs to us. And by us, I mean whatever race, nationality, color you are.
It also means he loves those whom we hate. Oh, you don’t hate anyone? I do. I hate pedophiles. Should I? According to the way of Christ, no. And I’m working …
Raise your white flag. See what happens. (image from: http://kevinmartineau.ca)
How do you know, Cat? How do you know that God has heard you and answered you? How do you know to accept his answer if it’s not how you’ve envisioned the answer or what you actually wanted the answer to be? How?
What an excellent question, asked on a recent post I made about deciding whether or not it’s time for me to go back to work. It’s one I asked myself MANY times before finally jumping off the fence, and onto the unfamiliar turf of full-time at-home parenting. For several years, that’s right, years I’d been sitting on the fence, only to jump back off and run in the opposite direction. But something, always something, would put me back on.
Is this really God? Or my …
There it is. My pride and shame. (But mostly, my pride.)
It’s funny how things work out. I’ve long dreamed of seeing my name in print. And I mean real print. The kind that comes hot off the press, and leaves a pulp and ink smell on your fingers. The good stuff.
Today, that happened. I received a package in the mail from MennoMedia. Inside, were two issues of the February 2013 issue of Purpose, a monthly periodical used for worship and personal devotions. Opening up the cover, I saw my name. In the table of contents. Even though I was well aware I’d submitted an article, and that it had been accepted, it still took awhile to process. Was this for real? Yes. Yes it was.
And while my heart swelled with pride, my head …
Keep yourself on a leash. (At least most of the time.) image from snapphase.com
“Doing what needs to be done, when it needs to be done.”
This is perhaps the simplest definition of discipline, but it’s often not a simple thing to do. (We’re talking self control, not discipline for children.) Until recently, I considered discipline to be a “dirty” word. People who followed a routine, stuck to the basics, put one foot in front of the other, seemed, well, boring. These are the Ned Flanders of the world. Always neat and tidy, never disorganized, often cheery. And that’s the thing. The most disciplined people I know seem…happy. They may lead super busy lives, just like the rest of us, but they seem calm. They rarely lose their keys and …
I’m taking this study to heart. (image from training.rightnow.com)
Tomorrow, I’m doing something radical. I’m logging out. Of everything. No Facebook. No Twitter. No blogging. No social interaction, except with my flesh and blood family and friends. It will be hard. Very hard. You see, I love social media. Can you tell? 😉 I love logging into Facebook and seeing what kind of shenanigans my friends are up to. I love surfing my Twitter feed to see which gems I can RT. And I love to write. Most of all, I love to write.
But sometimes, a little birdie perches on your shoulder and says, “take a break.” Or in my case, it was a guy named Chip Ingram who wrote a small group study called “Balancing Life’s Demands.” In it, he describes how we’re …
Dear mystery woman, I’m sorry. (Image from dailyshame.co.uk)
Friends, something has been bothering me for awhile. Nagging at my conscience, my gut. It’s about a picture I posted on my Facebook page. A picture of a young woman at Starbucks who appeared to be wearing only her underwear (or very, very short shorts). To be honest, I wasn’t making fun of her. I was simply amazed and confused. We just don’t see things like that very often around here. So then, I wrote a blog post, about how she was probably a good mom because her young daughter was dressed appropriately and she was treating her to a yummy breakfast. Still, something felt off. I don’t know this woman. I don’t know her story. So, I’ve removed both the photo and the post. Perhaps that …