Photo Journal {August-September 2014}

Um, did anyone else catch onto the fact that it's November?

Yeah, I kind of just realized this yesterday.

As I realized that the last time I had posted photos had been sometime in September. And those photos were for July.

**sigh**

So, here are August and September. All rolled into one. Please humor me as I furiously try to catch up before we run into Thanksgiving and Christmas.

We took Grant to a little petting zoo nearby. He was admittedly not initially thrilled with the idea.

But then he warmed up so decidedly, that we decided that we needed to take Grandma and Grandpa Allison here next time they came!

Grandpa (and Grandma!) visited in August. Grant fed the goats for the first time. He now looks for the goats every time we go to any park anywhere. Note to all park directors: add goats to increase your toddler boy foot traffic.

While Grant is fascinated by animals, you can see that Bets is less than enamored.

Grandparents and their progeny near the "moo cows."

Anything that rocks violently back and forth is Grant's favorite. My usually cautious son flings himself into this past time with reckless abandon.

Please. No more paparazzi.

Mama and son. Such a wonderful mother for such a wonderful man.

Permit me one attempted artsy shot of Independence Hall. We have visited it multiple times since moving here. So... if you want to come visit, I can pretty much recite the tour guide's spiel from memory.

Blue-eyed charmer

I just love my mama-in-love. This woman has taught me so much through her tireless, bountiful generosity.

My dear sweet honey-love. My forever-sweetheart.

My children have clearly not grasped the concept of, "Smile!"

Grandpa and his girlie. Wee Bets loves her Grandpa soooo much!

Then, in September, the Blake grandparents, Oma and Grandpa, came to visit! (Not forgetting Tia, of course!)

Staving off baby fussies with Grandpa!

Someone loves Oma.

Whoo! Can you scream when upside down, Bets? (Turns out, she can't.)

Daddy and his last baby.

I still cannot get over the fact that this is my back yard...

Tia and her "Granty" taking in the sights downtown.

Cute for 33 years and going strong.

Bets and I skipped the final tour and hung out on some very historic steps in the legislative building near Independence Hall.

Someone was thrilled that she didn't have to look at the original senate floor.

Some of our family favorites are picnics and play time at the park.

Super-Dad! Able to feed a Bets any where at any time.

Bets' first time in a swing was much more enthusiastic than her brother's first time.

Once again... happiness is found when rocking tempestuously.

It's a bird, it's a plane!

"Bets! Let's take a Mommy/daughter selfie while the boys play catch!"

"Okay, never mind. We'll play it cool."

We made a fluffy mess! (I have no idea what to call this stuff, but it was pure sensory heaven. Just shaving cream and cornstarch. Amazing.)

It kind of got everywhere... 

Messy heaven.

You wouldn't know it, but it's not supposed to be eaten and it must taste vile.

Happy autumn from the Allisons!

Uncover To Find Cover

So, I'm usually pretty honest with you, right?

(insert multiple head nods from my three readers)

In fact, back in April, I wrote this scary confession owning up to years of gluttony. I was counting years the other day, and realized that I've been in bondage to my taste buds for over 2 decades. (Yes, I am old enough to measure time in decades... also, my dear husband informed me last night that I looked like I was old enough to measure time this way. Thanks, honey.)

Well, there has been no update on the gluttony front for months, largely because I wasn't sure what I was learning. But I knew one thing. I finally realized that a sin which had dictated my behavior for 20+ years couldn't be eradicated by a week or two on SlimFast and a clever Bible word study on self-control.

So, I decided that I was going to slow down and simmer on this problem. Not move. Let it soak in. Really think about it.

Here's my tendency with sin: I vacillate wildly between shoving it under a rug and never recognizing it, or pulling it out, hosing it down with guilt, and then wallowing in shame and remorse. The problem with the denial rug? It fills up eventually. It can't hide everything. The wallowing shtick? I've tried it. It just leads to more wallowing and more shame. In fact, it can become just as much a habitual sin as the original sin which plopped you in the wallow pit.

In Psalm 32, David says, "I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not cover my iniquity; I said, "I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,""

Three times. Acknowledge, did not cover, and confess.

In the CAV Bible translation (Courtney Allison Version) it would be written: "I see the sin, I stopped hiding it, and I'm laying it in gory detail at my Savior's feet."

And I did just that.

Rather than rerun the sin in my mind, become wrapped up in shame, or act horrified about what I had done, I acknowledged: "All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God." (Romans 3:23). I'm not sure why my own depravity continues to alarm and surprise me. It's not like God keeps me guessing about my true nature. The psalmist stated, "No one living is righteous before [God]." (Ps. 143:2)

I journaled. I read books. I buried myself in my Bible. And I looked at my sin in all it's slimy, vile darkness.

And that's when peace came, and the shame began to dissipate.

David acknowledges that silence about sin is deadly to both spiritual and physical health. "For when I kept silent, my bones wasted away... your hand was heavy upon me...." (Ps. 32:3,4) Both physical pain and emotional pressure are present when there is unacknowledged or minimized sin. I'm sure David knew he had sinned. Perhaps he just down-played it in his mind. Or denied it. I am capable of doing both simultaneously.

But then comes the verse I quotes earlier. Acknowledging sin. It brings the freedom that God promised in the very first verse of this psalm, "Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man against whom the Lord counts no iniquity..." (Ps. 32:1,2)

See? This psalm of contrition and confession begins with the hope of this outcome. God didn't make us wait to find out the benefits of repentance (which He would be totally justified in doing). He laid it out for us. My sin. Forgiven. Covered. No iniquity.

I can't cover my sin.

But Christ can.

I sweep it under a rug of denial. Christ dips it in His precious blood. It is covered in his sacrifice. It is forgiven. He will never count it against me again.

When I stopped denying, trying to rush past my sin, or being overwhelmed at its sheer enormity, my struggle became less about me, and more about my Savior. Nothing is too big, too scary, too horrible. And conquering even the most debilitating sin is feasible.

And from that place, God gave me clarity and purpose in my fight.

Repentance.

Sometimes it takes a while.

Don't rush it.



**************


I utilized several tools (aside from prayer and my wonderful Bible) in this endeavor. Journaling was amazing. Writing down all my thoughts helped them to crystallize and made identifying the lies I was believing very tangible. Also, I cannot recommend this book enough. Ed Welch does an amazing job with this book. Be warned: it's a treatise on shame. That means it is long. It gets into the nitty gritty. And it takes commitment.

I snagged it on Amazon during a freebie Kindle sale. It's not free at this moment, but keep your fingers crossed. The Kindle version is very reasonably priced: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00F5KX7AU/ref=oh_aui_d_detailpage_o05_?ie=UTF8&psc=1

I know now that this free sale was an amazing gift. I did not realize the magnitude of my shame until I began unpacking it. Seriously. This book is incredible.

Was Jesus Ever Bored?

So... I've been sinning. Regularly. Without pause. Almost without a break. But it was such a nice sin. It didn't come out as black, evil, horrible nastiness.

Nope.

I tamed my sin and packaged it in comfort.

It took on the guise of Netflix, sweatpants, and lots of frozen foods for supper.

Because here's the deal, I kind of thought this two kid thing was going to be more exciting. Everyone told me: "Just you wait! You won't know what to do with yourself. You'll go crazy. You won't have a chance to rest!"

I'm not really sure how they're parenting, but I should probably go take lessons.

I, for one, am frequently bored. Not even joking. I mean, sure, there are lots of diapers to change, meal time is a test in my ambidextrous feeding skills, and bath time is a constant fear-fest of "Which one is going under this time?!" (I feel obligated to state: Neither of my children has come even remotely close to drowning.)

But in between these crazy moments there is a lot of down time. My house is quiet. Babies play in puddles of sunshine. We read the occasional book. We play with shaving cream and corn starch and there is the ever-faithful nap time. On top of this, my age-old health issues have flared up, and so we're not going anywhere or seeing many people.

It's not incredibly busy.

So, instead of using this wealth of quiet time (it's really quiet, and the absence of adult conversation has me using words from my Victorian classics: plebeian, indubitably, aspersion, inveterate, remonstrance... This is not normal.), but instead of using this time to read, absorb truth, pour said truth into my children, help my husband, (fill in the blank with profitable pursuits), instead... I chose to be bored.

Flopped across our couch, I moaned about my boredom... my house was covered in a thin layer of dust, breakfast crumbs were still under the table, and I hadn't applied make-up or changed out of sweatpants in 3 days.

My faithful hubby patted my head, made me a cup of tea, and then asked me... "Was Jesus ever bored?"

Shoot. I hate when he's spot on with his shepherding/leading part of our relationship.

But I began to think...The God of the universe. He knew every one's thoughts, feelings, and emotions. He knew how everything worked, forget the advances of the day--he had created all things, so he knew about photosynthesis, electricity, and the solar system. Nothing was unknown. He knew everything that was going to happen, there was no "I wonder if..." If anyone was set up to be "bored" it was our Savior.

But somehow, linking boredom to a Savior doesn't sit right... it niggles. You can't see Jesus sitting with his arms crossed, a bored expression flitting across his face, a general detachment from everyone around him. A sigh of exasperation. A wasted moment. A whine to his mom, "There's nothing to do!"

Yeah, chances are, our Savior was not bored.

So is it okay for me to be bored?

Whoever says he abides in him ought to walk in the same way in which he walked. (I John 2:6)

For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. (Galatians 3:27)

No. It doesn't look like it's okay

Chances are, if I'm bored in this stage of life, I'll be bored in every stage. And it's more an indication of my heart than it is an indicator of my surroundings.

So, I prayed.

In the middle of Aldi. Right next to the discounted pork chops and the huge stack of salt and vinegar chips that I had just said, "no" to. (I love these chips. Love. Passionately. Crave. Insatiably.)

But I stopped. I put up my arms and I prayed out loud (I'm the crazy person in Aldi. Obvi.) But I knew there was a huge rift, carefully built by a series of lazy days, between me and my Savior. And I wasn't getting in my car and driving until I had healed our relationship. I didn't want to be steam-rolled by some dump truck still carrying a pile of crap I hadn't confessed. (Yes, Mom. I used the word "crap." Sorry. But that's kind of what it was...)

Then I went home. I unloaded my groceries. Walked into my kitchen, and grabbed my honey by his flannel shirt. I confessed it. My laziness. My apathy. My failure to imitate my Savior. My willingness to coast by with "barely-there" parenting and wife-ing.

He, imitating his Savior before him, forgave me.

And it's a glorious feeling.

I know I'll still fight boredom. I'll still want to watch Netflix instead of clean my bathroom (I'm sorry, but who on earth would rather clean a bathroom?) But God has given me this quiet, this peace, this time of relative relational ease for a reason.

And I'm not going to waste it.

Because I'm convinced my Savior didn't waste a moment of his 32 years.

Sunday Smash-Up! (Acts 9)

So, it's here! Our first "Sunday Smash-Up!"

Below you'll find a compilation of teaching ideas, activities, and crafts to help teach this Sunday's lesson from Acts 9. Please read the passage (at least once!) before looking through my ideas and the written lesson provided.

Feel free to leave comments and questions below. I'll do my best to help and assist. If there are any materials which you'd like to see regularly stocked in our children's ministry, please contact me (once again, fastest way may be through the comments below!).

I'm hoping that the following assortment of ideas will help you absorb a passion for this lesson and enable you to pass the amazing Word of God on to kids.

Teaching Ideas

1. The linked website contains a myriad of images to help you teach this lesson. You can pull it up on your iPad/computer, or use a projector to put it up on the wall. With one click, you can put it into a Power Point (to project), or an Adobe file (to print). This week's lesson: http://freebibleimages.org/illustrations/paul-conversion/


Activity Ideas

1. Re-enact the story. You can cast it with the following characters: Saul, Jesus, and Ananias. To make it easier on the kids: teach them to act out while you're telling the story. Then they don't have to say anything in front of the other kids or remember any lines. The perk: because there are only 3 characters, you will have to re-enact it multiple times. This means that every kid will get a chance, but it also means they will hear the story over and over and over again.

2. Play "Simon Says." Talk about how that's how Saul reacted to Jesus. Immediate obedience, totally unquestioning. The light came and he immediately fell down to the ground.

3. Preschool/Early Elementary: Play some music (encourage everyone to dance!), then when the music stops, everyone falls down (like Saul!). Then, have them ask "Who are you, Lord?" Just like Saul. This can work as a mini-story-retelling time. But it has a lot of movement... like musical chairs, without the chairs.

Craft Ideas
Please don't forget: craft time is not teaching down-time. Be sure to re-tell the story, ask key questions, and comment on each student's artistic interpretation of the story. Encourage creativity and artistic interpretation. This can help very tactile/visual kiddies really grab onto what the story is about.

1. For those who (like me!) aren't super-crafty: here are some links to free coloring printables.
            a. For Preschoolers
            b. For Elementary Students

2. Draw a map from Jerusalem to Damascus. Have the kiddies pick the place that they think Saul was visited by Jesus. Was it just outside of Jerusalem? Was it almost to Damascus? They can add details like mountains, Saul's horse, etc. You can also bring bits of tissue paper to add dimension to the map. You can use this link to show everyone how far it is between Jerusalem and Damascus. They can speculate what it looked like during Saul's life.


Good luck! Have fun!

How To: Make God Tired (in one easy step!)

Tonight I am tired.

The window unit kicks on and blows cold, wet air on me.

But I can't sleep. It's still too hot.

My husband is snoring away upstairs. Yes, he snores. Only occasionally, only very faintly, but I suspect he's acclimating me to consistent bedtime "music." Probably, by the time he's sixty, it will be like he's operating a buzz-saw right next to me every night, but I won't even notice. I'm like the frog in a pot of gradually warming water...

I have a sneaking suspicion I snore, too. I woke myself up the other night with a snort. It's only the beginning. Old age is creeping in. Soon we'll just be two peaceful buzz-saw-ers. Sleeping side by side. Amidst a cacophony of snorts. But for now...

I can't sleep. I'm tired... But no sleep.

Did you know that God gets tired?

Yeah.

I'm not joking.

God actually says, "I am weary."

(Yes, I know. Infinite power, infinite stamina, infinite control... he doesn't really get tired. But wait. He does.)

The people of Judah are beaten. Demolished. Wracked by war. In desperation, they turn to God.

And they exhaust Him.

Every day, in and out of His courts they come. Sacrifices, special feasts, sacred holidays... the whole nine yards. They do it all. You do church on Sunday morning? Good for you. Now do it Sunday evening, Wednesday evening, and reserve Friday nights for special dinners. Make Christmas bigger. Observe Easter more. Do. It. All. Do it more. Put on your holy face. Wear your fancy clothes. Serve everywhere.

And you will make God tired.

In Isaiah 1, God is done. He is fed up. His precious people? He compares them to Sodom and Gomorrah: two cities that He burned. With fire. From heaven. Yikes.

Why? Because they were off throwing raucous parties? Because they ignored Him? Because they didn't wear the right clothes? Because they forgot to visit the temple?

No.

Because they did visit the temple. Listen to all these people were doing. It's a little exhausting. One wonders when they got a vacation from all this "holiness." They were doing:
multitude of sacrifices,
burnt offerings of rams,
fat offerings,
blood of bulls/goats/lambs,
frequent appearances in His temple (so frequent and so well-attended, he calls it "trampling"),
incense,
new moon celebrations,
Sabbath observances,
solemn assembly,
appointed feasts

They were doing it all.

Isn't that what God wanted?

No.

God says, "I have had enough.... I do not delight [in this]... [it is] an abomination to me...I cannot endure... my soul hates [this]...they have become a burden to me; I am weary of bearing them."

They made God tired with their goodness.

Because, you see, God never wanted all that. He doesn't want church, and good behavior, and pious songs, and holy faces. He doesn't care how many service projects you've done or how many times you've said, "I'll pray for you."

He wants purity.
He wants brokenness.
He wants true, raw, honest repentance.
He wants life change.
He wants sin to be relinquished.
Seek justice.
Learn to do good.

Then all those other things? The church, the serving, the prayer? Well, I suspect they come quickly after the repentance. But then, when they come, they will flow from joy and delight in God, rather than from a desire to manipulate Him.

“Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord:

though your sins are like scarlet,

    they shall be as white as snow;

though they are red like crimson,

    they shall become like wool.

 

If you are willing and obedient,

    you shall eat the good of the land;

{Isaiah 1:18,19}

You don't have to do that on your own... All of that striving, all that work... God just wants a broken heart, hands wide-spread, and humility in the air. He will do the hard work of removing your sins. Just come. Just ask. Just bow down. Plead for clean. Plead for change. Plead for a broken heart. Ask to be repentant. Sometimes we don't want that. God knows. He will strengthen any desire, no matter how feeble. Just ask... Ask to be willing.

Next to me, my Bible sits open. God has been hammering me recently. Working me over. Disciplining my soul. He's asking me for tenderness, for consistency. He's peeling away layer after layer after layer of disgusting, calloused sin. And just when I think I'm raw, broken, and completely humbled, He finds another layer. It's not pretty. It's nasty. And it's really, really painful.

But this tenderness? This quiet resting in Him? This deepening understanding of my God? It's worth it. It's amazing. It's revitalizing.

Pray.

Pray for revival.

It may be brutal.

But you're going to love it.

Otherwise, please feel free to exhaust an infinite God... It's not a new game. And it's pretty easy to play.

Photo Journal {July 2014}

Motherhood is working me over.

I'm in a love-hate relationship with my current path of sanctification. I love that it involves cuddles and baby kisses. I hate that I haven't finished a chore uninterrupted in months.

My wise mother used to say, "Motherhood makes you work on patience like nothing else will."

I, in my complacent self-satisfaction, always thought, "I spend all day, every day, working with special needs children and grumpy old men on ventilators. I'm fairly confident that motherhood isn't going to be a stretch in the patience department."

But what my mama was really saying was, "Find your weakest area. See that? There? Okay... that's where motherhood is going to camp out, jump up and down, and stretch you until you're unable to do it on your own."

So, sure. Patience. Not necessarily a weakness (although even "strengths" break down occasionally in intensive parenting!).

Self-discipline? Perseverance?

Ah.... there's my soft spot.

Try being persistent when there is no fruit.

Yesterday, I tried to clean. In the entirety of my day, I painted one door, two pieces of trim, and put a load of laundry in the washing machine.

that. is. all.

How hard is it to remain disciplined and to persevere when there is no benefit? No blessing? No check mark on your to-do list? Pretty dang hard. (Pardon my Christian expletive...)

But just when I wonder if I'm growing, my son shouts, "I love you!" from across the room, Bitty Bets learns how to eat a banana (and only up-chucks once!), and I'm reminded that of all the "refining fires" I've been in, this is the best. The hardest? Yes. But the best.

So, I haven't written a scrap in months, but I'm learning bucket-loads. Two months late... here is our July in pictures. Someday I'll create again. Until then, I'm so thankful that God never stops "creating" in me!

For now... I need to go vacuum up the remains of breakfast, probably with an infant strapped to me, and a toddler "helping" with the vacuum.

TIA AND OMA CAME TO VISIT! And clearly, Bets has joined the "Tia Fan Club."

This child. She cracks me up.

I feel that we haven't had a "Bets' Faces" montage in a while.
Hopefully this series will rectify that.

Whatevs, Mom.

Ha! Isn't it silly when I act all laid-back and cool!?

I'm fairly sure that this little boy would follow "Tia" off
the ends of the earth.

Baby sis. Growing too fast. But still loving a good swimsuit-rainstorm-splash session.

We all packed up to go see Daddy on his missions trip in inner-city Philly!
Bets is ecstatic. Please, child. Contain yourself.

Thrilled to see Daddy. Clearly.

Grant's first "water ice." Midwesterners, can't really explain what this is. It's like
a glorified snow-cone. Be sure to ask for a "wuttterrr ice" when you come to see us.
(You are coming to see us, aren't you!?)

Jubes. Getting face painting on her hand. I was very disappointed
that she didn't get the tiger painted on her face. I was disappointed
that I didn't get a tiger on my face. Something about it being just for
kids... **sigh**

Two missions trip sponsors!

First bite of cotton candy. He's skeptical.

And now he's diving right in.

Julie had never had cotton candy either!
She was not a fan.
I'm not sure what's wrong with her...

There were lots of people around. Grant, as usual, was contemplative. Never
have I used a word so often to describe a child. But that's my son.

Hanging with Oma. Amidst the multi-ethnic crowd. It was an amazing afternoon!

Child Evangelism Fellowship (CEF) paired with several local churches
to host a massive "block party" in inner-city Philly. The place was packed.

The gospel stage. People clustered here throughout that day.
The gospel was shared in at least four languages. 

Everything was free. Free food, free bounce houses, free games, free puppet shows, free prizes,
free-free-free! And if you went through the gospel tents, you got a free t-shirt!

I couldn't get over the number of different ethnicities I saw. Burmese, Chinese, Hispanic...

There was so much joy, and life, and energy in this little square of Philly. My heart
nearly exploded for joy... So many people experiencing unconditional love.

Splash pad. 

Little old man, in broken English, asking about Julie's China story.

Manning the basketball stations.

There were tons of carnival games that the kids could do to earn tickets.

Our teens helped staffed these games.

So thankful that my mama and sister came to help out while Scott was gone for about
a week and a half. I was dead-dog sick almost the entire time. It's like God
knew I would need them. I love when He provides like that... :)