What Am I Doing At Church?

It's quiet.

I stand there, in the dim auditorium, waiting quietly. I'm trying to still the thoughts that keep cluttering my mind, "did I start the crockpot? I wonder if she'll scream the entire time she's in nursery? I really need to catch them after the service and ask them...." Fighting for a quiet soul. I am about to join something cosmic. Something eternal. Something massive.

Quietly, the music begins and truth flashes across my mind.

There. In my row. At our tiny church, I'm ready to leap into a symphony of praise.

As I sing, my voice is shouting eternal truths about an eternal God, my finite voice is joining others. Countless Christians, in different churches, neighborhoods, states, countries, continents, are praising God in a glorious, multi-language cacophony.

I cling to promises, gripping my hands together, struggling to remember these truths are true, and I join saints through the ages who have bled, and fought, and died in faithful belief in the true character of their God.

I raise my hands, and my small gesture joins the shooting stars, the towering mountains, and the whirling galaxies as I proclaim that my God is king.

When I sing, shoulder to shoulder, joined with people in our church, we are not one tiny meeting. We are part of the massive, eternal church of Christ. And together with all the saints, we are shouting into the darkness of this world, "Our God is glorious! Our God is worthy! Our God is King!" And into the darkness, a glorious light shines forth.

Because when I get up on Sunday morning. When I rush through getting ready. When the kids won't eat their oatmeal, and I can't find a pair of tights without a hole, and my coffee isn't ready in time, and there are classes to teach, and rooms to set up, and people to help....

I forget what I'm doing at church.

I'm joining a massive symphony of praise to my God.

May the brilliance of God's glory radiate from us.

"Great and amazing are your deeds,

O Lord God the Almighty!

Just and true are your ways,

O King of the nations!

Who will not fear, O Lord,

and glorify your name?

For you alone are holy.

All nations will come 

and worship you,

for your righteous acts have been revealed."

At The End of a Week {Technology Fast Update}

It's done.

I'm wrapping up day 5 of my technology fast.

And I think my brain has turned to tofu. Or exploded. Or melted.

I'm not sure...

Well, if you read this post then you know that I've ventured into 30 days of minimal technology. I've turned off Instagram, Facebook, Netflix, Hulu, and Pinterest. I'm still writing/blogging and using the internet for email and meal planning (I've shaved more than $20 off our weekly grocery budget just by planning strategically! (and relying heavily on beans, rice, and a sad lack of goldfish crackers.))

At the end of a week, here are my thoughts:

1. Doing the dishes, folding laundry, and general household tasks are boring. When I can't flip on "Rehab Addict" or (let's be honest), "Friends," these tasks become very mundane. But guess what? Without the shows, they also go much faster...

2. My brain has atrophied. No, seriously. I have a "job" that allows me a large amount of mental freedom. Because of our current social media obsession as a culture, I can fill large amounts of that mental freedom with other people's news, updates about my life, and general flitting from one topic to the next. Mental discipline has gone out the window. At the end of day one, (day ONE, mind you!), my brain was exhausted. All it wanted to do was tune out with a good ol' Pinterest scrolling fest or some delightful old sitcom (Hello, "Murder, She Wrote.") My brain was tired of being engaged all day. I didn't even do anything crazy strenuous. I'm letting myself "get stupid" because of a consistent lack of mental discipline!

I mean, come on! Who wouldn't
want to share this precious sibling love?

3. It's hard to not share happy moments of my day. I love my life. Love it. And I want to post pictures of my cute children and our happy play times. I also made homemade "Chick-fil-A" chicken nuggets (without using grains and deep fried in coconut oil), and I really, really, REALLY wanted to tell someone. Turns out, brining is the secret to those delicious nuggets.

4. Purity is hard. I'm working my way through the gospels, looking to "behold my God," and this verse clung to me with a persistence and a severity that can only come from the Holy Spirit: "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." As I venture deeper into these thirty days, I'm becoming increasingly aware of how hard it is to remain "pure" when I fill all of my time with external influences. There is nothing wrong with TV, but too often the shows are full of bad language and sinful situations. There is nothing wrong with Facebook, but it can lead to comparison and wasted time.

I desperately want to see God. I want to behold his glory. I want to learn how to shout his splendor into the universe and join the cosmic symphony of adoration.

And my weary brain is slowly, dimly, beginning to grasp the fact that I've been allowing the world to clutter my life much more than I realized.

Elizabeth Wynne {Happy 1st Birthday!}

Elizabeth Wynne.

Your name shouts "God is abundant." You are daily proof of His unceasing love and creativity. We can't believe our "wynne-some" little lady is a year old!

A year ago, at this time, I was waiting for contractions to become more consistent. My heart was so ready to meet this little lady who so surprised us with her coming. Through a roller coaster of fear and physical trials, it was not easy to "grow" you. You forced your mother to her knees before she even saw your face. And God taught me the painful lesson over and over, "My God is enough." Your beautiful birth story was a picture of God's love and faithfulness.

Now, our sweet baby is ending her first year. If I thought time went quickly with the first baby, that's nothing compared to the second. By the time my **fictitious** seventh child finishes his/her first year, I'm going to need Dramamine just to keep from getting dizzy!

Character {at age 1}

{Less than 1 month}

"Betsy-Boo-Boo," as she is affectionately known, is a remarkably happy, contented baby. She loves people, and seldom fusses or whines. That being said, when she's convinced that something is wrong, she reacts as though she is dying. Her reaction to early bedtimes is the most vehement, and her sobs would make any theatre connoisseur proud. But her volatile moods are few and far between (and usually reserved for when Daddy is present).  Her general state of contentedness lets her play with one toy for hours and remain calm when there's nothing to entertain herself with. She sits quietly, loves books, and delights in watching the antics of her brother. This contentment also sometimes transfer to indolence, and wee Bets is not always fond of hard work (like rolling over, sitting up, or crawling). Each physical milestone has been a battle because of her proclivity for lying still. (No, don't worry, there's not anything actually wrong. She just loves being still!)

{3 months}

Bets is a quick study when it comes to obedience. She learned what the word "no" meant with less than five repetitions! She's very quick to respond to verbal correction and doesn't require a lot of repetitions to learn what is expected of her. She is very docile and obedient (although more creative in trouble-making than her brother was!), and her parents are incredibly thankful for her tender heart and her desire to make Mommy and Daddy happy.

And she does make us very happy. Laughter is very common when Bets is present. She is already a dynamic "story-teller" with crazy facial expressions and flailing arm movements. She will react to different sounds and sights with over-done drama. She will watch other people's faces and attempt to mimic their facial expressions. Our darling comedian already uses her flexible face and big blue eyes with great effectiveness.

Milestones {at age 1}

{6 months}

As mentioned above, physical prowess is probably not in our daughter's future (although we would be delighted for her to surprise us!). Bets does a "sea-turtle" crawl on her belly and can cover a lot of ground rather quickly. This morning, just in time for her birthday blog, she propped herself up on her knees and rocked back and forth. She's also gotten fairly good at "standing" when supported by Mommy or Daddy. Can't wait for the little sea turtle to turn into an official crawler. Mommy is ready to kid-proof the house again!

While perhaps not fond of physical endeavors, Bets is incredibly verbal. She does different voices, sings, and "talks" all day. She growls, blows bubbles, and makes silly noises with her tongue. Bets said her first word at 10 1/2 months of age (it was "uh-oh!" produced with huge eyes and a big round mouth) and has since added "no," "Dadda," "hi," and "I love you." (Very social words from our very social Chicken Little).

Favorites {at age 1}

{6 1/2 months}

Because of her easy-going nature, Bets doesn't seem to have a large amount of strong opinions. Our easy-going girly is really okay with letting her brother dictate his favorites, and then going along with him.

She loves her new "Cinderella" Little People toy, and gravitates towards all Little People in general. (She loves to carry them around as she turtle-crawls from one room to the next). Bets loves books and enjoys joining her brother in anything that he is playing with.

{11 months}

Food is also an area of general compliance. Baby Girl will eat anything. She loves penne pasta and also enjoys cottage cheese, yogurt and fruit. Leafy-green veggies are still not her favorite, but she will try them without too much protesting. What Bets really loves about eating is feeding herself. From day 1 of "grown-up" food, she has loved stuffing her own mouth full. It's one of the few areas in which she is incredibly stubborn: for Bets everything tastes better if she can do it herself.

Bets is also a cuddler. She initiates cuddle times. She loves hugs. And she's always happiest perched in someone's arms. If she ever crumples down onto your shoulder, that's a "Bets hug" and it means she likes you. Please don't be too excited, though. She likes pretty much everyone...

Beautiful girlie, your Daddy and Mommy pray that you will daily become more aware of your Savior and your need for Him. We delight in seeing your gentle, teachable spirit and pray that this, coupled with your joy and thirst for drama, will lead you to the only God who can give you the dramatic life, filled with joy, that we know our little chicken would love. We love you, darling.

You make known to me the path of life;
in your presence is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.
{"Bets' Psalm": Psalm 16}

Happy Birthday, Bets! We love your beautiful sunshine!

What Happens While You're Kitchen Dancing

It happened while I was cuddling my two year old, swaying back and forth in my kitchen as my dishwater turned from bubbles into greasy sludge.

I had been listening to a Revive Our Hearts radio broadcast on my iPad. Nancy Leigh DeMoss was working through Isaiah 40 and she camped out on the phrase "Behold our God." Immediately, there flashed across my mind this song from Sovereign Grace Music. I paused my good (even though we've never met) friend Nancy, and flipped to YouTube.

As soon as the opening chords of music began, Grant, my two-year old, came running from the playroom, arms upheld, crying, "Dance! Dance!"

I scooped him up, and he cuddled down on my shoulder. He didn't want a silly dance. He wanted a cuddle dance.

We swayed our way through three repetitions of this beautiful song. And as a chorus of people sang, "Behold Our God, 

Seated on His throne,

Come let us adore Him." 

I wondered why I wasn't beholding my God. There, in the silence of a mother's dream cuddle, as the music filled the room, and I procrastinated on the dishes, I realized that I rarely stop and behold my God. I don't look at him. I don't adore him.

My word for this year is "beloved." I am beloved by my God. I am treasured, precious, fought-for. When I started searching for a word to encompass my purpose this year, I went to my husband with a list of several options.

After reading them off, I looked at him, waiting for him to help me pick one. Instead, he quietly suggested, "Honey, these are words regarding things you need to do. And this whole year I've seen you strive and work and try to pick yourself up by your bootstraps. But I think you're struggling with viewing yourself as fully redeemed and precious in the eyes of your Savior. You are beloved. Do you know that?"

And I almost cried.
Okay. I actually did cry.

You see, I don't believe that. "Why would God want me? Don't I need to prove it some how? Isn't there a list of expected duties for me to fulfill? Is he going to be horribly disappointed when I mess up again? Oh, crap. I just messed up. Well, who cares!? Of course it was going to happen! I'll just keep messing up! I'm going to heaven anyway! But then again, Jesus died for me... so I should try hard. I'll prove it somehow! What duties does God want me to fulfill? I must be perfect!"

And the cycle repeats.

It's a vicious cycle. It's full of pride, shame, selfishness, and despair. It's the swinging of a self-dependent pendulum. These are not the thoughts of a woman resting in her salvation and delighting in the work set before her. As much as I may say that my salvation is through Christ alone, my actions dictate a heavy belief in works-based salvation.

And there, in my kitchen, the Holy Spirit nudged my conscience. When do I behold and adore my God? When do I stop and revel in who he is as my Savior? Perhaps the reason I'm having trouble resting in my Savior is because I don't have an intimate relationship with him. Sure, I do my quiet time. I have a prayer schedule. I go to church. I serve. I read good books.

Great. Check. Check. Check.

But do I enjoy the fact that I have free access to the God of the universe? Do I know my God?

No. And I don't have a chance to... My day is filled with Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, checking emails, watching Netflix. Any quiet moment I may have is sucked dry by a need to see what others are doing and look at created things rather than stopping to look at my Creator. Please don't misunderstand. In and of themselves, these things are not bad. In fact, I personally love what Pinterest has done for the creativity of females everywhere, but the fact is, I can pick up my phone and lose precious moments. I can sit down for a "short" break at my iPad and waste half of my afternoon.

And I ignore my God.

If every day is packed with his glory, shouldn't I be looking for it? Reveling in it? Teaching it to my children? Delighting in being his daughter?

So, I'm kicking off my 30 day fast.

No Facebook. No Instagram. No Pinterest. No Netflix. No Hulu. I will use the internet for meal planning and checking email ONLY. I will keep writing because I believe that it's one of the ways I become closer to my Savior, but my husband will post all future blogs for me. (He was rather surprised at this suggestion, but he really loves this "fasting" idea, so he was game.) I will use my phone for texting, taking (unposted) photos, and nutrition tracking (a necessary evil of the current tummy trouble). That. Is. All.

I'll let you know how I fill the technological silence. I don't expect it to be easy. I'm going to miss all the social and creative inspiration I love to glean from these sources. But I know I need to draw closer to my Savior. And as a stay-at-home pastor's wife/mom of two toddlers, there's not a whole lot of crazy I can actually cut out of my life. So I'm offering him this fast. I'm praying that he would take this tiny sacrifice and color it with his glory.

It's my 30 days of silence to behold my God.

Thanksgiving... a big happy picture pile! Photo Journal (November 2014}

We went home to Michigan for Thanksgiving! We drove out on Thanksgiving. Spent Friday and Saturday with family and blitzed back in over a Sunday. It was a whirlwind, love-packed trip and we all enjoyed it.

Yes. I realize it's nearing the end of January and I'm just now posting Thanksgiving pics. If you would like to come organize my linen closet and feed my children, I'll make sure the next batch gets posted more quickly.

Grandma cuddles are the bestest.

The highway out front is going through construction, so it was a perfect place to yell "BIG TRUCK!"

Grandma's vintage toy collection is impressive and super fun.

Betsy-boo is playing with a toy that I used to have in my crib.
How my mother-in-law hangs onto these things is truly amazing.

Rough housing with Grandpa!

Whisker tickles on the feet!

My careful, contented girlie, playing with her very pretty grandma.

I just love this bundle of preciousness.

We met cousin Evie! Evie is 2 months younger than Bets and could probably eat her
second cousin (twice removed?) for breakfast.

Grandma and Grandpa have a big yard that we love to explore.

Swing smiles!

I love this little man with every thump of my heart.

I got teary when I saw this picture... was my baby seriously eating bottles not this long ago?
When did she grow up!?!

Checking out the Black Friday deals with Grandpa.

Happy girlie! (Seriously. So happy. Almost always. Without fail.)

Cuddles with Aunt Sarah-Bear!

I married this man.

Birds of a feather... 

Uncle Josh was quite a hit.

Learning to play Uno.
(Or enjoying scattering cards... definitely more likely.)

They just lined up like this, so I had to get a highly awkward, 1980s-ish family pic.

Isn't she just lovely!

Selfies with Sarah! (Critical nephew/aunt bonding)

Grant discovered one of Aunt Sarah's old beanie babies... a rodent.
Mommy then **ahem** had a little bit of fun with The Rodent.

The Rodent checks the bird.

The Rodent mashes some potatoes.

The Rodent caffeinates. Thanksgiving prep is grueling.

The Rodent butters. Because Paula Dean recommends it.

The Rodent makes some green bean casserole.

The Rodent bastes.
(Okay, I'll stop now.)

Acrobatics with Uncle Josh.

An hors d'oeuvres of Catch Phrase.
I love the faces in this candid shot!

Because nothing causes more glee than adolescent photos.
(I've hidden mine, but Scott's are hung where all can see!)

The bird. Butter-crisped, of course.

Updside-down with Grandpa!

The whole fam eating dinner together.
(Please note the amazing bear prints across the wall.
My mama-in-love found an AMAZING stencil!)

No child should be this skeptical of turkey.
(Now, if he's skeptical of stuffing, I'll allow it...)

I love people. Around a table. Eating. Makes me happy.

I love this clan. I'm so glad that the Allison/Johnson clan has welcomed me!
Happy Thanksgiving 2014!

Hoarding Blessings

The amount and type of blessings that we have is no less orchestrated by our heavenly Father than our sufferings and trials. I often hear people sighing about "God refining me through this trial." (indeed, I've sighed piously along with the best of them), but I rarely hear someone sigh and say, "God is refining me through this blessing."


Blessings are also designed to make me like Christ. 

When I assume that they are something I create and build for myself, I try to protect my blessings from my next refining time of suffering. But hoarding them in fear, while hoping God won't wipe out my blessings out is not only arrogant (every good and perfect gift is from above, not created by my own hard work), but it is also grossly unfair and cruel to my loving God.

Being Finite... and resting (without my sweatpants)

I talked about 2015 in glorious terms, didn't I?  And you were all so nice to speak encouragement into our family's pursuit of rest. Thank you. However, writing about rest is quite different from actually resting. With the help of my hubby, we've been exploring as a family, what true rest looks like. Why is it that I can curl up in sweat pants, pop in a chick-flick, and not cook dinner for the 17th day in a row, and still feel as though I'm not rested enough? You can tell me it's hormonal, health-related, or because I have small children.

I've decided it's because I don't know how to rest. God designed it, sure. But rest can be abused just like many other good things that God created (e.g. sex, marriage, food...). So, it stands to reason, if I'm not rested after hours of indolence, then I'm doing something wrong. And I feel that wrongness even on my most productive or most rested days.

My heart does a little strained, anxious dance inside my chest.

Paying bills. Cleaning the floors. Making dinner. Groceries. Dusting. Trying to find a stain remover that will tackle the work of an almost one-year-old and her 2 year old brother.

That's just the work here. In my house.

Then I read books. I hear the news. I see pictures.

Babies starving. Abortion numbers rising. Christians attacked. People dying without the gospel. War. Famine. Terrorism. 

And it pulls.

My heart is wrung in my chest.

All of a sudden my easy life, my sunshine-filled days, my quiet evenings at home seem too lazy. I cry out with the Psalmist "Arise, O God, defend your cause!" (Ps. 74) I want, so very desperately, to be a fighter in this war. If I had my druthers, I would have a house filled with orphans and a perpetual line of hungry people at my door. I'm no Charles Spurgeon, but I can cuddle a baby and make a pot of soup.

This year Scott and I have elected not to pursue adding more children to our family. We're trying to be faithful in our giving, but other than groceries/gas/bills, we're not spending any money. The goal is to eventually be debt-free so that we can help more children. It's a wise, short-term rest that I am chaffing against.

"Please put orphans with signed adoption papers on my doorstep!" is now one of my daily prayers. (So far, the postman just keeps bringing water bills and some highly questionable magazines meant for our house's previous owners.)

One day this past week, as the sunshine puddled in my beautiful kitchen, I couldn't handle it any more. I keep their pictures on my fridge... mommies cradling tiny babies, lonely looking orphans...* I may be waiting, but I can't forget. Two little dark brown faces looked at me from my fridge and I dissolve into tears.

"I can't! I can't! I need to help and I can't!" I cry out to my Savior.

From across the kitchen, my tiny two year old puts down his blocks. He comes over, climbs into my lap, and placing his hands on either side of my face, he says,

"You can't! It's okay, Mommy. You can't. It's okay..."

And he was right.

It's okay that I can't.

I can't control my family size, how many orphans there are, or what our ministry looks like. I can't rid the world of hunger, destroy evil, and help every person wrestling with poverty and depression. I can't even get stains out of clothing, so who am I to think that I can control anything else?

God is in complete control. And this is where I rest. That pulling, that anxiety? It means I'm not okay with my finitude. It's a form of pride. It means that I think that I can be a better god than God. And that's where He stops me:

“Behold, I am the Lord, the God of all flesh. Is anything too hard for me?" (Jeremiah 32:27)

"For behold, he who forms the mountains and creates the wind, and declares to man what is his thought, who makes the morning darkness, and treads on the heights of the earth— the Lord, the God of hosts, is his name!" (Amos 4:13)

And I confess with Job, "“I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted." (Job 42:2)

So this year, I'm resting. Not without purpose (hopefully!), not lazily (my weakness for sweatpants and junk food is really terrible), but with a constant seeking after the rest found in an infinite, omnipotent God.

*One of my favorite ways to love on mommies and their babies during our season of debt-paying-off is through Compassion International. The link above will guide you to a project very near and dear my heart: their infant survival program. They are incredibly flexible with any amount you may want to give, and are very gracious. I cannot recommend this organization enough. They share feet-on-the-ground gospel with tangible help and love.

2015... The Year of Jubilee

"When you come into the land that I give you, the land shall keep a Sabbath to the Lord. For six years you shall sow your field, and for six years you shall prune your vineyard and gather in its fruits, but in the seventh year there shall be a Sabbath of solemn rest for the land, a Sabbath to the Lord... It shall be a year of solemn rest for the land... It shall be a jubilee for you, when each of you shall return to his property and each of you shall return to his clan... For it is a jubilee. It shall be holy to you." {Leviticus 25}

The decorations are put away. My children have opened their last gift. I've efficiently spiralized every single veggie in my fridge (Yes! I got a spiralizer! And a spring-form pan that has already be inaugurated with a turtle cheesecake, but it's less "new-yearsy" to talk about cheesecake, so I'll just focus on the veggies.)

I've potty trained a two year old. Utility sinks are a necessity in this venture. 'Nough said. I won't be one of those moms who talks about how her brilliant baby boy learned to use the "big boy potty" in four days. Nope. And I won't discuss how motivating Lightening MacQueen and Mater underwear can be. Suffice to say, we ate our weight in Skittle rewards and marked this down as a parenting success. That's all I'm saying. (I've already said too much. Apologies...)

And now we're well on our way to completing the first month of 2015.

And I'm tired.

I feel a little beat up.

2014 was a glorious, uncomfortable year.

Our dear sweet Chicken Little joined us in 2014. We had wonderful vacations. We had delightful ministry experiences. We saw family. We made new friends. 

And I was sick, sick, sick, sick.

I'm really tired of being sick. I've been chronically ill for almost a decade. This fall with mark the 10 year anniversary of my diagnosis with ulcerative colitis. 

Here's the problem with physical sickness: it doesn't stay physical. It leaches into your view of God, your spiritual growth, and how you love others. If you're super vigilant and pray oodles and bucket loads, the Holy Spirit is gracious and transforms your soul into this delightful, light-filled, happy place.

I don't have a rested soul.

Please don't misunderstand. 2014 was a wonderful year of growth. I delight to say that I know my Savior more in at the beginning of 2015 than I did at the beginning of 2014, but can I be honest?

I'm tired of fighting the battle.

My body is weary. My soul is weary. My family is absorbing my weariness by association. Our finances are weary. My housekeeping is weary. My creativity and service... weary.

Not burnt out. Not miserable. Not grudging. Not ready to "throw in the towel." Nothing so strong or angsty.

I'm just tired.

Several weeks ago, Scott and I started a fight against the drain of Sunday. We love church. LOVE IT. My little two year old son squeals with joy when it's "church day!" (This may be due to the fact that he loves his fancy church shoes, but we'll pray it tends towards holier motivations as he grows up.)

But church day is long and required reservoirs of energy. (Which are usually pretty shallow to begin with...) 

So, we began a "Shabbat." Every Saturday we work towards the goal of being done with all work by 5 p.m. Then, we sit down to dinner, hold hands, listen to a Bible passage on rest (um, there are a LOT of them. I think God thought we needed this!?), eat dinner by candlelight, and pray for our Sunday. And we realized that we NEED this. We NEED rest. God designed us to need rest.

We have a whole slew of things that we're learning about honoring God's view of rest. I'm very good at indolence. I'm not so good at actual rest.

So, we decided 2015 is our "year of Jubilee." We're going to mimic the Israelites in a modern-day way. We're not tackling any home projects. We're not buying anything new (other than necessities for the kiddies). We're not buying anything beyond what we need for groceries. We're double-paying on all debt (should be debt free by the end of the year!). We're not buying toys. We're not buying presents for each other. We're not planning any huge get-aways.

We are going to explore Biblical rest. Turns out, it's not always a cessation of labor... God designed loving others and expressing thanksgiving (among other things), as ways of gleaning rest.

This year we're actively resting.

So, welcome, 2015!

It should be a good year.

Happy Year of Jubilee, from the Allison clan! (We already look so rested...)