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Monica

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April 30, 2014

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BLOG, Devotions

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490 Planks

I did it again.

I took my eyes off the mountain for just a minute and the pull of the valley brought me back low. The chaotic drama woke up a mama bear from hibernation, and though the situation had nothing to do with me at all, I threw my sword on the ground and was ready to fall on it with a mighty vengeance.

My heart lashed out and rehearsed a thousand scenarios of what I would say and how I would respond and countless minutes — maybe even hours — were spent in conversations that would never actually take place.

Time I should have spent praying was instead invested in scouring the Bible for verses that would provide justification to my cause…confirmation that my anger was righteous and “godly.”

In my frantic, passive-aggressive search for verses to ambiguously confront, I found The Verse. But it turned out it wasn’t a verse that applied to the situation…

…it was instead a verse God applied to me:

Don’t think you can decide on your own what is right and what is wrong. Respect the Eternal; turn and run from evil. (Prov 3:7)

#ouch

My head hung low in resignation as the conviction stung deep in my heart.

Am I ever going to get it right the first time?

Don’t ignore the wooden plank in your eye, while you criticize the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eyelashes. (Matt 7:4)

“But God,” I pleaded, “My frustration and disappointment are justified! True injustice happened. It’s not fair!” (I might have clenched my fists and stomped my feet, too…I can’t be sure.)

You must forgive not seven times, but seventy times seven. (Matt 18:22)

I despise this answer. I know in the depths of my heart it’s true, but still I fight it. I want restitution, I want payback. I want to shout and maybe even wield a pitchfork. Maybe.

When will I learn? When will I learn that God holds me just as accountable for my reactions as He holds those who were wrong? That I do not have permission to turn around and engage in the same behavior?

Growing in God is JUST SO HARD.

#whine

This little exchange with God happened just hours after prepping for an upcoming talk about climbing your mountain to gain clearer perspective…climbing in order to be transformed…to be closer to Jesus.

So He gently began reminding me of everything I had passionately rehearsed earlier…

That in the valley difficulties seem larger than life and insurmountable
That we have to get to the mountain to gain godly and holy perspective
That when we get proper perspective, we see that nothing in the valley is bigger or badder or tougher than God is

My head hung low in humility as repentance oozed from my heart.

And then I heaved a big sigh and started climbing my mountain.

I call to You from the end of the earth when my heart is weak. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I. (Psalm 61:2)

Getting to the top was everything I needed.

From the Rock, I can see past the immediacy of a frustrating situation.

From the Rock, I can see how these million little angry dots soften and melt into an entire glorious canvas, painted by a Master.

From the Rock, the shenanigans in the valley fall into the correct order of priority — under God.

From the Rock, I’m more concerned with getting 490 planks out of my eyes so I can enjoy the breathtaking view at the top. (click to tweet that)

I’m so thankful that God loves me too much to let me remain stuck in a mentally destructive valley. I’m so grateful for His gentle reminders to look up and to see life through holy lenses and proper perspective.

And I’m so thrilled He doesn’t hold the planks in my own eyes against me…forgiving me much, much more than seventy times seven…every single time.

Posted by

Monica

Posted on

October 16, 2013

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31 DAYS, Be

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Being Tired (31 Days #16)

To read all the posts in the 31 Days series, click here.

I’m a wee bit tired, and a wee bit grumpy. And when I say a wee bit, I might mean a lot.

It’s just one of those seasons where everything is happening all at once, and my energies are depleting and it’s starting to feel fruitless — all of it. The effort and the time and the energy being poured in…to everything, really…is starting to feel pointless.

The recent days have felt like one big WHY. BOTHER.

I despise being in this place — this place where it’s so easy to cave into negativity and frustration; where it’s so convenient to wash my hands of it all and walk away. I hate it because it’s the antithesis of who I want to be, and yet when I’m in the middle of this place, it feels so stinkin’ good to be here. Justifying my frustration always feels good on the surface.

Just. so. good.

But then the sun comes out and it’s tomorrow and the fact I’ve wasted time in the negativity pit is even more frustrating.

I feel stuck in a lose-lose tug-of-war, and it can just suck, if I’m perfectly honest.

And maybe that’s the point.

Maybe this pursuit of being isn’t just a pursuit of contentment and stillness and knowing God. Maybe this pursuit of being is also a pursuit of knowing myself more deeply in light of knowing who He is. Maybe it’s a pursuit of being authentic and admitting I’m not yet who I want to be; and maybe that requires I throw grace around like confetti and force myself to dance in it, even if I don’t feel like it. (tweet)

I can’t leave out this part of being — the acknowledgement that being is a process. That the journey is just as much the call as the call itself, and some days it will be harder than others and that no day will be perfect. (tweet)

No, every day won’t be perfect, but it needs to be present. Present in the moment, being honest with God and with myself. And being present IN God, relying on His strength when I’m tired and frustrated and shouting WHY. BOTHER. from the top of my lungs.

And being present enough to know that sometimes, if you’re a wee bit tired and a wee bit grumpy, you need to just withdraw, sink in and BE STILL for just a few stolen minutes.

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Monica

Posted on

September 2, 2013

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Devotions, Pondering, Writing

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Altars of Grace

I felt strongly led to repost something I wrote last year. I’m not sure why, but I’m going with it. Blessings!

* * *

To journey toward holiness is to walk where the sidewalk never ends. And the path is littered with altars along the way — altars of remembrance and altars of sacrifice.

“Here…on the left…this is where God remembered me and met me and parted the sea for me.”

“Over here, on the right…this is where I laid down my Isaac. There was no thicket, there was no ram.”

”And up here just a little bit…this is where God got a hold of me and blinded me. And it took awhile for the scales to be removed, but then I was able to see.”

These little altars are mile markers of progress on a path that will take a lifetime to travel.

As you walk along the path, you are showered with grace. Grace falling like snow into blankets of insulation. Grace falling like rain bringing water to a thirsty soul. Grace shining like the sun and illuminating His glory. Grace falling like fall leaves, where the slightest hint of the wind brings them to submission and piles them high where it’s all you can do not to just JUMP in without concern for bugs or spiders or slithering enemies.

Grace.

Holiness is unattainable without it — yet it is given, not demanded. We cannot demand the snow insulate the earth. We cannot demand the rain hydrate the soil. We cannot demand the sun illuminate our face. And we cannot demand the wind to shake loose the dry leaves from its branch.

For the leaves only fall when the Spirit blows through them. And their fall is gentle and silent, not loud and demanding.

Grace does not give permission to remain unholy.

Grace does not give permission to remain unholy. (tweet)

Instead, grace is the bumper along the path of holiness…that path where the sidewalk never ends…that path littered with altars…grace is piles of fallen leaves and banks of snow and pools of rain, guard rails that keep you from falling over the edge.

When unholiness beckons and summons you like the enemy of Wisdom, go to your altars. The altars of remembrance and the altars of sacrifice…stop on your unending sidewalk and visit them. Remember the things the Lord has done for you — the miracles He performed, the rams He provided and the sight He restored.

Lay back on them like they were lush, green pastures and use them to restore your soul.

And after you have waited on the Lord and renewed your strength, get back up again and continue walking forward toward holiness. Soak in the Spirit as it blows grace all around you, assured it will guard you, should you stumble.

“The ways of right-living people glow with light; the longer they live, the brighter they shine. But the road of wrongdoing gets darker and darker — travelers can’t see a thing; they fall flat on their faces.” (Proverbs 4:18-19, The Message)

Posted by

Monica

Posted on

October 22, 2012

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Guest Blogging

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Fan of Holiness?

I’m honored to participate in our pastor’s current sermon series, “#1 Fan?” as a guest writer. Here is the seventh installment — you can find the others by clicking here.

—

To journey toward holiness is to walk where the sidewalk never ends. And the path is littered with altars along the way — altars of remembrance and altars of sacrifice.

“Here…on the left…this is where God remembered me and met me and parted the sea for me.”

“Over here, on the right…this is where I laid down my Isaac. There was no thicket, there was no ram.”

“And up here just a little bit…this is where God got a hold of me and blinded me. And it took awhile for the scales to be removed, but then I was able to see.”

These little altars are mile markers of progress on a path that will take a lifetime to travel.

As you walk along the path, you are showered with grace. Grace falling like snow into blankets of insulation. Grace falling like rain bringing water to a thirsty soul. Grace shining like the sun and illuminating His glory. Grace falling like fall leaves, where the slightest hint of the wind brings leaves to submission and piles them high where it’s all you can do not to just JUMP in without concern for bugs or spiders or slithering enemies.

Grace.

For the leaves only fall when the Spirit blows through them. And their fall is gentle and silent, not loud and demanding.

Grace does not give permission to remain unholy.

Grace does not give permission to remain unholy.

Posted by

Monica

Posted on

May 17, 2012

Posted under

Giving thanks

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Thanksday #64

Dramamine? Check.
Seasickness wrist bands? Check.
Seasickness patches? Check. ($52 later.) (Thank you insurance and flexible spending.)
Bonine? Check.

The sweet irony will be that I’ll get sicker from the seasickness medicine than from the sea itself.

“But Monica, why would you need seasickness medicine? You’re landlocked in the mountains of North Carolina.”

Good question, my friend. A good question, indeed. I hope you look good in green; I’m going on a New England/Canada cruise. Seven GLORIOUS days cruising a part of the continent I’ve never seen. Seven GLORIOUS days away from constant cell service and email. Seven GLORIOUS days away from normal. Seven GLORIOUS days with my husband. (And yes, about a dozen or so people from church, but they’re fun, so it’s going to be awesome.)

And GLORIOUS.

(Can I mention, though, how weird it’s going to be to need a passport to get into Canadia? Because I grew up in the Pacific Northwest, and we took road trips to British Columbia a lot. And passports were laughed at. Or maybe they weren’t. I was just 19, what did I know other than I didn’t need one?)

(And yes, I said “Canadia” on purpose. That was for you, China White.)

We leave promptly when the rooster crows on Saturday morning. And in case you’re wondering, NO, I haven’t started packing yet. Packing is strictly an 11th hour job for this girl. I’m typically in a crunch getting ahead of work and home issues before I get away, that the packing part is the easiest.

Especially since I have a sticky note for my packing list.

No, not the old-school paper ones; I mean the desktop Stickies application on my laptop. Where would I be without my Stickies? They remind me of everything from what to pack, to what to buy, to how much it costs to print square invitations. If only my Stickies would sync with my iPhone reminders. THEN, I’d be virtually OCD organized.

Or at least appear to be.

Regardless, Friday is my everything-I-have-to-do-that’s-not-work-related day. Which includes, but isn’t limited to: laundry, cleaning, packing, grocery shopping, organizing the kids and all that jazz.

(All that jazz.)

Due to cruising and the high-cost to internet and all, I can’t promise I’ll be Johnny-on-the-spot with my posts next week. But if I’m appropriately relaxed and inspired, I’ll post when I’ve reached some free wi-fi cafe in Quebec City while asking the garçon where les toilets are s’il vous plait?

(Maybe another shade of green would work better on you.)

(Holy parentheticals. It’s kind of annoying now, no?)

Thankfuls for this week!

1. Cruising. My first one. I won’t get seasick, right? Do we all remember the lovely sunset sailboat cruise around MAUI and my several instances of vomiting? Surely that was an isolated incident.

2. Greg’s Laughter. I’ve mentioned a few times, I’m sure, how when Greg really cracks up at something he sounds like a weeping woman. Few have been privy to this limited display of hilarity. But those who have seen it now believe and even try to force it. (Bolivia Team 2011, I’m talkin’ to you.) Well. Will Farrell was the guest host on Saturday Night Live this past weekend. I couldn’t tell you which skit it was, but Greg fell victim to the weeping woman fit of laughter. I frantically searched for my phone to record the moment for all of you to see. But I was too late. But it was awesome.

3. Front Seats. For the first time ever, I let Jaana ride in the front seat this week. Only for a few short miles, and it won’t be a habit. I’m too much of a MeMaw about that. But she acted as though I had told her she was going to Disney for a week. And sometimes, winning a little battle here and there is more important than winning the war. (Or something like that.)

4. New Phrases. Recently introduced into my daily vocabulary: “hither and yon.” As in, “I’ve been running hither and yon all day, and I’m exhausted.” Isn’t that all kinds of fun?

5. Free New Bag. A friend of mine’s mom recently gave her a new bag as a birthday gift. And she didn’t want it. And she said, “hey, do you want it?” And after one look I knew it would be perfect for the cruise. Can’t beat that, jack. Not even with a stick. Kindle, camera, Bible and journal…meet your new home for the next seven GLORIOUS days.

6. Greg Coming Home. Greg was gone for a solid week for classes out of state, and we went to pick him up at the airport over the weekend. As we waited for him near the Baggage Claim and escalators, I saw signs everywhere welcoming home the troops. And I mean, everywhere. Banners. Large ones. Then we saw Greg. Paxton shrieked and went running to him. They embraced in a very smothering hug. Passersby clucked, “Awwwwww, so sweet.” And then I realized. And I felt so bad. I almost yelled out: “He was only gone for a week! He’s not in the military! Save the touching clucks for them!” Then next I thought, “Hey, it might have only been a week, but he’s still our hero.” (But hello…awwwkkkkkwwwaaarrrddd.)

7. Happy Hairs. While in The Big City, I visited my Hair Guy and he made my hair feel like it naturally belonged to the blonde. And, as a bonus, he tinted my eyebrows just enough so that I don’t have to waste time trying to give them some color with a pencil. How fun is that?

8. Fun. Evidently I’m all about the fun this week. Maybe to overcompensate for the grumpy and crazy of the past few weeks?

Speaking of fun, I inquired of a friend via text picture if my new nail polish color was okay. She then queried her co-workers and sent me a text that said, “It’s right on time.” To which I replied, “What is that? New lingo I’m supposed to know?” To which she replied, “Yes, it’s all the rage here in the ATL. It means it’s cool. On trend.”

This. This from the girl who the other day said, “She was totally ragging on me” circa 1992.

So later, when she told me something that was kind of a bummer and notsomuch fun, I said, “That’s so late.”

And then I almost drove off the road because of the tears of laughter in my eyes.

9. Grace. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again — where on earth would I be without the grace of God? I’ve been such a total bonehead lately. A grumpasauraus rex. A Debbie Downer. It’s been very frustrating, to be honest; I loathe myself when I’m like that. And the mistakes or slips of the tongue (or keyboard) I’ve made are embarrassingly high. But praise the Lord, He continues to give me chance after chance for redemption. And He’s gentle enough with me to remind me I can’t do it on my own, and to just chill. out.

10. Red Shoes. Sometimes, a girl just has to bite the bullet and buy some impractical red wedge heels. And so I did. And now I’m trying to incorporate them into my wardrobe with a devil-may-care-I-just-threw-it-all-together-without-thinking attitude. But that’s hard. Because then I want to do the red lipstick and the red jewelry and sometimes I’m just too darn matchy-matchy. So here’s to red shoes and switching things up.

(And here’s to me stopping with parenthesis AND hyphens.)

(Heavens-to-punctuation-Betsy.)

Your turn! Let me know what you’re thankful for this week and share the love. Leave a comment below or link up with Candra. It’ll make your day GLORIOUS and keep your nausea at bay. (Pun intended.)