"It is for freedom that Christ has set us free."

Have you seen the little caption, or whatever you want to call it, that goes:

I have CDO. It's like OCD, but with the letters in alphabetical order-like they're supposed to be.

I think that's funny. I, if you didn't know, have OCD. On some days, I would tell you I suffer from it. On most days, I would say everyone around me suffers from it, too. (My OCD, not theirs.) I think a lot of the time I am pretty functional. By this, I mean that I go out of the house and do stuff. I go to the store, I let my kids play at the park (sometimes!), I am able to get on airplanes (barely). But the mental toll is high. I spend a lot of mental energy thinking about and worrying about things that would never cross another person's mind. 

What is nonsense is that my house isn't all that clean. But our germs don't bother me as much as others' germs! 

My obsessive-compulsive worries, and the rules that I come up with, tend to cause a bit of conflict. And a lot of laundry. But something that struck me the other day seems even more significant than that.

I realized (and not for the first time, but maybe for the first time that I really stopped to think about it) that my OCD robs me of joy. Then I thought,"It robs me of peace. And patience. Hey! And kindness, goodness, and faithfulness...also, gentleness and self-control. And love!" The fruit of the Spirit. I allow what seems uncontrollable (and possibly is, in some ways) to rob me of the fruit of the Spirit. Paul says in Galatians,"Against such things there is no law," but I have set up my own law that is indeed against such things! I rule them out. This is something I want to work on. 

I know Paul is addressing the matter of circumcision, but I think the principle applies. "It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." He ends Chapter Five with this exhortation,"Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other." I find that I often provoke the kids (and probably Mike, although he puts up with a lot of my quirks and does the things I ask of him when I am worried about germs), and I also envy those who don't worry about all the details that concern me. They are so relaxed! 

I am typically all or nothing, so it would be very like me to say something nutty like,"I'm going to change all my ways, starting right now! I'm going to stop being so worried about germs, and I'm going to stop making my kids change their clothes all the time, and I'm going to stop washing my hands after I take out the trash!"

I don't see that happening, though (Especially that last point...ewww!), but what I'm thinking is that maybe I can make an initial small change, my tone of voice, which would likely have a very great impact. 

Okay, I'm shifting gears here. The other thing that has been on my mind lately is my health. I feel bad ALL OF THE TIME. My stomach hurts, my head aches, my knee pops. This morning I stretched and pulled a muscle in my shoulder; it's still sore. My feet hurt, and my heart either feels like it's racing or like it's pounding hard but slowly. I am not that old! But I feel like an old lady. And I am TIRED OF FEELING LIKE POO. I must get in better shape. I have to start taking better care of myself. I need to stay active and busy. And I know from experience that I have better days when I do that, and of course, I feel better at the end of a productive day, even if I didn't accomplish all that I had hoped. I am planning on going to the doctor, too, in order to rule out something serious, like tumors or parasites. (Fellow hypochondriacs, you know what I'm talking about.)

My diet is part of the problem, but could be another blog post. I'll sum it up: It's bad.

So, I have no idea what I'm getting at, except to say that I'd like to make some changes for the better. And not just better for me, but for all of those around me. Maybe putting it here will help me take the action that I need to take! I know several of you who read my blog have made goals this year and are following through successfully...so thank you for your encouragement by example! 

Convicted? Yes. Inspired? I hope so. Freed. That was the promise...

A Little Catch-Up (Not to Be Confused With Catsup) (Or Ketchup)

So. Many things have happened since I last posted, none as dramatic as that opening makes it sound. And none which include me getting up before the sun has peeped above the horizon. That is a lofty goal that I am still tossing around in my noggin. 

One of the more exciting things (Oh, you are going to be so surprised when you hear what is exciting for me!) is a trip to the ballpark. We were blessed with some tickets from our friend at church who has seats just behind the dugout. I think I took about 300 pictures. Don't worry, I'll only show you a few. 

The big kids sat in the front seats. The other two seats were directly behind those two. Pretty great set-up. Eliana sat with Mike and then with me, and then with Mike, and then with me. And on and on. Actually, he held her most of the time, and let me take pictures. 

I kind of like the Texas Rangers. Did you know?

You will find that there is an inordinate number of pictures of Elvis Andrus. He didn't even play this day. But...he was totally posing for me!

It was a day game, and warm (not blazing like the summer day games)...Christian wanted to check out the kid zone. He was disappointed that we didn't go over there. This was the first game that we stayed in our seats the whole time (not even a potty break for anyone...awesome!) and did not buy any food or drink. I brought snacks (and we had just eaten lunch on the way). We'll have to go on a dollar ice cream night (that certainly beats $6 for a scoop and a half, even if it is in a cute plastic hat). 

Eliana got a ball. It was a bit odd...one of the guys in the dugout (a bat/ball boy or one of the security dudes) rolled a couple of balls onto the dugout. The lady next to Michaela reached and grabbed the ball really quickly and I said/breathed much more loudly than I ever think I would have intended,"Aw, come on!" Then she turned around with a bright smile on her face and handed it to Eliana. I was mortified. I have no idea if she heard me, but I really wanted to apologize. We thanked the woman, and then the man sitting next to me (just behind the lady who snatched the ball, apparently in order to give it to my daughter) (I am such a jerk!) said,"Let me see that..." and he took the ball from Eliana, took out a pen, and wrote the teams who were playing and the date. Only, he got the date wrong, so he tried to fix it. Does anyone else think that is strange? He did give the ball back. I thought the whole thing was weird. But, Eliana got a ball! 

Young, Murphy, and Moreland. (Just like it says on their jerseys.)

The Captain came to visit. You wouldn't believe how long it took to get my kids to get next to him for a picture. 

Yu Darvish was the big news for the Rangers this winter. He is one of their new starting pitchers and I caught him and Elvis Andrus chatting and dancing. Too bad I couldn't remember how to take video with the camera...Mike said,"You could have had a video on YouTube that got a million hits."

Elvis was quite jolly that day. He kept turning around and pointing to someone up in the stands. Then he seemed to look straight at my kids and toss a ball directly at Christian. You can see it here. There were no other kids on the front row where they were sitting, just adults. There were some kids in the second row, but...he was clearly lobbing the ball to my children!

If you look carefully below, you can see the ball dropping onto the dugout where the "G" is, just over the red hat in the photo. As it hit the dugout, the lady next to Michaela snatched it up and handed it to a little girl on the stairs who had come, hopefully, to get a ball. Ah, well. It would have been cool to get a ball directly from a player. (Our kids have plenty of game balls...it's not a big deal. I just thought it was neat that he tossed it himself, because I don't think that happens very often, that a player turns and interacts like that. They mostly keep to themselves and the team in the dugout.)

At one point, Andrus was behind home plate, acting like a catcher. He was being so goofy! Having a lot of fun! And clearly smiling right at me!

I love how they all watch and support those who are on the field. 

And they won this game, which is always fun to see live. They are on a tear right now, with a seven game winning streak, and an 11-2 record. What a great start!

Here is something new: I've decided to add a section to the blog. I like to compartmentalize (or pretend I'm just like the Pioneer Woman) (oh, my, that is one of the funniest things I've written...as if I were anything like her!) (I'll be laughing at myself for a while over that one, feel free to join me). The new section is for recipes, and is aptly titled "A Recipe for Disaster". If you know anything about my exploits in the kitchen, you would see right away how right that title is. So far I have a recipe for the best salsa I have ever eaten, and one of my favorite desserts. "A Recipe for Disaster" is just like a food blog, minus the beautiful pictures of fresh produce and lovely garnished dishes on gorgeous plates. But! You get the charming quirks that only I have to offer. 

As spring sprang we have been playing games and hanging out outside. 

Are you a Sturdy Birdy? You should definitely find out. 

I am sturdy enough to get to the next level, but not sturdy enough not to wobble and make crazy faces while I am trying. 

Guess who likes to swing? 

If you said,"Christina!" you are wrong. If you said,"Eliana!" you are correct!

We have wrapped up the class that Eliana and Michaela were a part of, celebrated their (and their classmates') accomplishments at a party, and watched a lot of baseball. (And the season has only just begun!) (Yay!) Christian is about to be done with school (he has around 20 days of school left...doesn't that sound crazy?), I am way behind on laundry, there are still enough shoes at our front and back doors for an entire city (or at least city block) of people, and there are pink goggles on my living room floor. Next to a stuffed dog. 

So, a lot is just as it always is. 

I have many things to write about; it seems like I am always "writing" (brilliant) posts in my head. It is just a matter of finding time to sit down and write coherent sentences. (At least, I hope I'm writing coherent sentences.) It is a goal to do more writing than I have been. I have to remind myself, I don't always have to try to be witty and clever. That is a bonus, of course, but really, I would like to be better about documenting our days. If you continue to read the blog, I thank you so much! It's fun to have company as we go along on this journey.

What I Learned Today

Last night Mike and I, in a roundabout way (per usual for us), decided that we would attend the sunrise Easter service. Also known as the service that starts at 6:30.

As in, a.m.

As in, while it's still dark outside.

Do you know me? I don't like to be awake at 10a.m. Much less early enough to get Christian ready for school. Much less while it is still what I consider to be the middle of the night. But I was determined that we were going to go to the service. We said we were going to do it; it was important to me that we followed through.

I won't lie. I tried to talk myself out of leaving the house at such a seemingly unreasonable time this morning. My alarm went off for the first time at 5a.m. Then at 5:15. I lay in bed thinking about all the reasons I should stay put: the kids went to bed much later than they should have, Mike and I went to bed much later than we should have, wildcats might be prowling around, the moon was the main source of light at the time. Around 5:47, I stuck my feet out of the bed and told myself to get serious. 

Long story short, we made it out the door. We were a little later than we should have been, but as I drove nearer to the park where the service was being held, I thought I would have no problem finding a parking space. I was then blown away by all the cars that were already there, the many people who were still walking over to the park from the neighborhood, and the amazing crowd that had gathered in the field across the street from our church building. I found a relatively near parking space and hustled the kids over to the grassy expanse that was spread wide with beach towels, picnic blankets, and camp chairs. People were in suits, sweats, and jammies. (So, only kids were in jammies, unless you count the yoga pants. Which, if I had worn, would totally be my jammies.) 

The band that leads our contemporary service was singing one of my favorite praise songs (modern day hymns?). Christ Is Risen From the Dead...it is a powerful one for me. 

(An excerpt)

Christ is risen from the dead
We are one with Him again
Come awake, come awake
Come and rise up from the grave

O death, where is your sting?
O hell, where is your victory?
O church, come stand in the light
The glory of God has defeated the night

This was wonderful to hear and sing as we stood watching the dawn slowly arise, the light almost imperceptibly, but decidedly, conquering the darkness. 

The story of my morning was being played out right before my eyes. "Come awake, come awake...come stand in the light...!"

Earlier, as I walked out of our front door with the kids, who were running for the car, in the dark, the moon was looming lustily behind hazy clouds. There were no stars, there was no hint of the sun. The hour before dawn surrounded me, and I felt like it was a friend. There was a warmth in the air, but also a coolness. I was actually excited to be outside.

This does not happen to me! 

As the morning came on, and we could see the sun over the tips of the trees across the way, I thought about all that had happened that morning, from the downright happy drive over to the church to the bull's-eye message. 

And do you know what I thought? You might want to sit down. I thought that getting up at 6-ish felt good, and was even good for me.

What I also thought around three hours later, when it was only 9am but felt like 3:30 in the afternoon, is that getting up at 6-ish is not good for the kids. At least not on the first day. They? Were struggling to survive, with short tempers, harsh tones, and sometimes tears. 

But what I learned about myself is that I not only am able to get up before it's rush-around-like-a-rabbit-on-crack time, I enjoy it. Maybe it's going too far to say that I enjoy it, as if I enjoy it all the time. Maybe I should start out slow and say I enjoyed it. But, you know me...all or nothing. 

I LOVE GETTING UP WHEN IT'S STILL PITCH BLACK OUTSIDE!

Wait. Let's not get carried away, here. 

I'll say this...I will likely try it again. Maybe even tomorrow. And Christian doesn't even have school! 

Look, Christ rose up from the dead, so...pretty much anything is possible. As Jay (the pastor at the sunrise service) said, the same Spirit that was hovering over the waters at the beginning of time as we know it, that same Spirit that breathed life into man, that same Spirit that raised Christ up from the depths of the grave is waking me up. Or rather breathing life into me. That is some power. Let us avail ourselves of it.

On Good Friday There Was Suffering

I wish I could write a profound, beautiful post as we anticipate Easter morning. I often read blogs of other women who write such wonderful and inspriational posts. They are wise, know an abundance of Scripture, and seem spiritually disciplined. (Please hear me the right way when you read the following sentence[s]. I am just being honest regarding my thoughts, not trying to toot any of my own horns.) I frequently think,"I could write things like that. I know in my head the right things to say, what sounds eloquent and good and holy...but it wouldn't be coming from a genuine place." I do know a lot of the right things to say. I know all about the covenants and the promises, God's faithfulness in spite of Israel's rebellion, the intricate weaving of the story of Jesus' ancestry and birth, the story of the Kingdom and how it came unexpectedly, about the strength of weakness, the victory from seemingly utter and complete defeatedness. 

And I still struggle on Good Friday to have a good day. 

Maybe that makes sense. Mike read the story of Jesus' trial and execution after dinner tonight; before he read it, he told Eliana that he was going to read something and it was important to listen. He said,"It's about the saddest thing that has ever happened, and the most wonderful thing that has ever happened for you." Isn't that just right? Most of the day, I have been sad. Not necessarily overwhelmed (in fact, I wrote that word down, and then deleted it because I knew it wasn't the right choice), but sad. I was sad that my kids were fighting a lot today. I was sad that I was obsessing about certain things that are not in my control to do much about. I was sad about the state of my laundry. I was sad that during the Good Friday service we attended, I felt like I didn't want to be there because Christian was asking questions (it was a Requiem sung in Latin) and we got a dirty look from a lady sitting in front of us. 

The list goes on. That isn't so important, though. Earlier tonight, I wrote what I hoped would be an encouraging message to someone who is experiencing a great difficulty. I wouldn't normally do this, but I'm going to share it here; what I wrote, I want so much to believe. May it be so.

At the end of the day, I find myself thinking,"For all of these things, we need a Savior. For all of these reasons, we cannot do it ourselves. There is no one but the Lord who can help us, who can rescue us, who can heal, free, restore, and literally save us." Sometimes I can listen to myself. Sometimes it's harder to.
We are broken vessels at the mercy of a broken world. That is a lot of brokenness. My heart hurts for you guys, and I am so saddened by all that has befallen you. But I come back to the fact that God is in the business of restoration. And business isn't really the right word, because that doesn't imply the love that he has for us. I hope and pray for you all as well as for me, and others that I know are hurting, that we can take our pain to the cross. That we can hand it over to the One who knows about suffering. That we can use it to remind ourselves that our suffering can have meaning and purpose. I don't know what that is or will be. It is such a great mystery. How can my heart be broken and hopeful at the same time? I don't know!...God almighty sent his son to save us. May you feel his presence, very real, tonight and this weekend, and on Sunday morning. May you find HIS strength in your weakness, as you look to the hope that is coming and has come. He rose from the dead! We have great things to look forward to, and his promises are all we have to cling to...May you know that he is carrying you. Totally carrying you! 
Today is a good day to reflect on Christ's sufferings, as well as look forward to and anticipate his victory. Claim those things. All of it goes together; I [have been] reminded [by Mike] that we can't have the resurrection without the crucifixion.  

(This is me, now, again)

What it boils down to is that I am totally busted up, and I can't fix my own self. I need someone else to do it. The good news that is buried in the mystery and beauty of Good Friday is that Sunday is coming.

Hallelujah. Lord, save us. Thank you for your mercy and grace.

Life

Life is messy. Things get all tangled up, like so many sleeves and pants legs and towels, and it seems impossible to sort them out.

Sometimes there is pain, a wound that is fresh and raw. It hurts to get cleaned up.

It seems like everything is in pieces. The pieces all go together to make something, but at any given moment that something is broken. A work in progress.

There is always work to be done; studying relationships remains one of the most important endeavors. Striving to create a space to study can be exhausting. 

History teaches us more than we are often willing to learn. We plug in, and we yearn for a simpler time, all at once.

Life stacks up. Where are we headed? Where have we been? Where is my other shoe?

Then things fall into place all of a sudden, and clean laundry gets put away by the end of the day.

Snuggles and smiles make for a happy ending. Sometimes.