Loving Your Spouse on Social Media: 3 Do's & 5 Don'ts

I wear my heart on my face. (My sleeve is reserved for my kids' boogies and cheese doodle schmutz.) What I mean is, I'm pretty good at buttoning my lip when I'd rather not share what's on my heart—but it doesn't take a detective to glance at my expressions and gather what's under the surface.

My husband, Chris, is especially skilled at seeing straight through my cellophane poker face. If you were a fly on the wall during my nightly scroll through social media, you'd get the picture.

Now and again, Chris glances up from his iPad and rolls his eyes. "What is it now?"

"Nothing," I reply. But the flare of my nostrils tells a different story. I'm either smelling a sour mozzarella ball or I've encountered something disturbing on Facebook.

With no fermenting formaggio in sight, he leans over to peek at my screen. "Oh, that's some close-up."

"What do you mean? I think it's a very nice picture of her," I defend. "Okay, maybe it's a tad too close, that's all. It just caught me off guard because her nose looks bigger than usual. I mean, not that she has a big nose! I should talk! I just mean, we don't usually see her so close that we notice her mustache hairs. I mean, it's great that her mustache hairs aren't ordinarily that noticeable. I have to use bleach for mine, plus a tweezer for my eyebrows. She, on the other hand, hardly has any eyebrows. Which, isn't a bad thing, really. Just an observation—"

That's a slightly exaggerated account of a very real struggle I have with sharing an honest opinion. If I don't have anything nice to say, I don't say anything at all... not intentionally, anyway.

Sometimes, though, the disturbing sight on social media goes much deeper than a poorly chosen profile pic. As I thumb through status updates, I occasionally come across posts and comments from my married friends that I wish I hadn't seen.

Marital squabbles used to happen behind closed doors, but social media has changed all that. (Granted, if you grew up in New York or really any American city, you've been privy to domestic arguments wafting out the windows and into the streets along with the smell of ethnic foods and clothes softener, but that's all part of urban charm. Moving on.)

I'm not sure what it is about social media that dulls our ability to discern right from wrong, but I'm concerned. I can't hide my scrunched face behind the screen of my smartphone any longer, so here it is: a list of 3 things that loving couples do on social media, followed by a list of 5 things they don't do.

Mighty Mouse Syndrome (Part III): A Testimony

"Give praise to the Lord, proclaim his name; make known among the nations what he has done. Sing to him, sing praise to him; tell of all his wonderful acts. Glory in his holy name; let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice. Look to the Lord and his strength; seek his face always. Remember the wonders he has done, his miracles, and the judgments he pronounced." –PSALM 105:1-5

To conclude this post series on Mighty Mouse Syndrome, I'd like to share the story of how God led me to my first career job (the position I still hold today). I felt led to record the details of this testimony as a sort of digital stone of remembrance (see Joshua 4:4-7).

Unqualified, Unprepared, & Unhappy

"This is a complete waste of time," I grumbled as my '94 Camry rolled along 30 West, the morning sun glistening on the Susquehanna to my left and right. It was the first time I crossed the dividing line from Lancaster County to York, and I was certain it would be one of my last.

In my final semester of college at Millersville University, I had my sights set on Harrisburg—not York. It was a class requirement that dragged me across Route 30 painfully early that morning. I was on my way to a portfolio review hosted by York College.

The inconvenient drive and the glare from the river weren't the only things that irked me on that trip, however.

I was mad at myself. The portfolio in my backseat wasn't prepared for a scrutinizing critique, and the only person I had to blame was sitting in the driver's seat, her chewed-up fingernails digging into the steering wheel.

Susquehanna River - Photo credit: http://luirig.altervista.org/

The portfolio work I'd pulled together represented an exasperated decision I'd made to switch majors in my senior year, from Art Education to Graphic Design. Although I only needed one more pedagogy class and student teaching to fulfill the course requirements to teach, I backed out and decided to become a designer instead.

Two factors led to the tough choice to switch majors:

(1) I'd been grappling with a sense of calling to ministry since childhood. I lacked the confidence to stick with Bible school, so I decided to pursue art teaching as a safer option. As graduation drew nearer, though, I didn't have peace about dedicating my life to teaching art. I realized that I needed to come away with a degree that would lead to a more 9-5 schedule than teaching, allowing more time for volunteering in ministry.

(2) In my junior year, I learned that art teaching jobs were nearly impossible to come by (in the wake of "No Child Left Behind" and the resulting cuts to specials programs in schools across the country). I had faith that God could open a door for me to teach despite the odds, but understanding the difficult job market was enough to tilt the scales for me in my decision making.

A graphic design degree seemed like a decent Plan B... at first. My boyfriend (later my husband, Chris) thought I might have some potential as a designer. Plus, the job market was better in that field, and the switch to graphic design still allowed me to graduate on time. That meant I could follow through with my plans to spend the upcoming summer wedding-planning and job-searching in the Harrisburg area (where Chris worked).

But there was one problem. I wasn't qualified for a design job.

Mighty Mouse Syndrome (Part II): Pride & Timidity

This post is a continuation of my last post on Mighty Mouse Syndrome (click to read).

What if God answered all the prayers that you lifted up in the past week? How dramatically different would your life and the world look today?

If your faith flow is running low (as mine often has), the culmination of your answered prayers might bring about safe travels, blessed food, and skinny jeans that allow you to exhale. That's sad. Especially when we're invited by our Heavenly Father to ask, seek, and knock (see Matthew 7:7-12).

What keeps us from praying for the BIG stuff—the needs and wants that cut so deep to the core of our hearts that we can barely find the courage to breathe them aloud?

Reasons might vary from person to person, but I'd say it's a sad slurry of both pride and timidity that can gunk-up our souls and clog our faith-flow:

Backup? Why would I need backup?
Original artwork: stevegoad.deviantart.com

Pride: I think we get hung up when we confuse spiritual maturity with self-sufficiency.

Growing from childhood to adulthood involves increasing levels of independence as we learn new skills and venture farther from our parents to explore our environments. Children of God, however, are called to remain childlike—to be humble, full of wonder, and ever-dependent on our Heavenly Father (see Matthew 18:2-4).

It almost sounds like we're forever needy... which makes the Mighty Mouse in me cringe. But if we're mature enough to swallow our pride, we recognize that needing God isn't a bad thing. We bring glory to the Father whenever His strength shows through our weaknesses (see 2 Corinthians 4:7 & 12:9–10). Of course, there's always a balance between praying for God's help and doing our part. St. Benedict called it "ora et labora," or pray and work.

Timidity: What if God doesn't come through in the way we ask? Does that mean He doesn't care? Does that mean we're not good enough to see our prayers answered? Keeping our prayers bottled up often seems like a safer option than testing what we claim we know about God's character—it gives God an "out" and it allows us to manage our deepest desires on our own. If things don't work out as we hoped, then it's merely our Mighty Mouse efforts that failed. God isn't to blame. 

But that's absurd. If our desires are rooted in right motives, we have no reason to hold back (see James 4:3). Yes, it's always difficult to grapple with unanswered prayers, but childlike Christians understand that prayer isn't all about seeing wishes come true. We pray because we long to draw close to the Father, to understand His ways, and to rely on His strength (see James 4:8; Psalm 139:24; Isaiah 41:10). And yes, we pray believing that He can "do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine" (Ephesians 3:20–21).

I'd like to share a study on a woman who initially qualified for an Old Testament Mighty Mouse badge of independence. When God answered the unspoken prayer of her heart, however, there was no stopping the shameless audacity of her faith.

Mighty Mouse Syndrome (Part I): Here I Come to Save the Day!

Do your ears perk up at the faintest squeak of someone is in need? Does the thought of coming to the rescue make your heart pound as you rush onto a scene? Do you gladly pick up new responsibilities when someone is struggling to keep up? Conversely, do you cringe at the thought of ever being needy enough to allow others to help you?

If you replied, "Yes" to most of those questions, then get your cape and fist pump ready. You may just have a case of Mighty Mouse Syndrome!

While there's nothing inherently wrong with wanting to be helpful (in fact, "helps" might be a spiritual gift of yours), it's possible to cross over the line into pridefulness when we resist help from others in our own times of need.

We don't usually reach for the "prideful" label when attempting to describe our need to be self-sufficient, though. More often, we say that we "don't want to trouble anyone," or that we have all the resources we need to handle the situation.

We may not possess the breadth or strength to tackle an obstacle on our own, but like Mighty Mouse, we're sure that we've got it all under control.

Hello Again

Hi there. I'm going to start blogging again. I took a break for a few months, but now I'm back. Sort of. I think I've changed quite a bit since July 2014. I'm really liking this motherhood thing. I'd say it's changing me from the inside-out for the better.

Karen (22 months) and her newborn brother, Ethan

I like being a mom so much that we decided to have another kid. His name is Ethan Alexander, and I love him. Today we slow danced in the living room to Perry Como and he didn't even tell me to shush when I sang, ha.

I'm not sure who's still out there of my devoted 9-person audience, but stay tuned! My next post will be a study on praying with faith, based on the Shunammite woman in 2 Kings 4.

Weight-Loss Wisdom: 3 Questions to Ask Yourself

Nine months ago, I wrote a blog post detailing how I lost all the weight that I'd gained during pregnancy. Since then, I've lost about 10 more pounds, but gained some wisdom along the way.

3 Questions

To Ask Yourself on a Weight-Loss Journey

Question 1: Why do you want to lose weight? For real.

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If you'd asked me this question shortly after I gave birth in May 2013, I would've jabbered something about wanting to be heart-healthy and have more energy to raise our family. That response would've been genuine, but not complete.

Here's the honest truth: I wanted to lose weight because I couldn't stand looking at my rolls in the mirror. I felt like moose. I moved like a moose. I even sounded like a moose when I had to hoist myself out of bed in the morning.

But that's not all. Let's excavate a little deeper and shine our mining hats into the dank depravity of my soul. Get a load of these gems:

Discovering Your True Colors

I'm trying something new with this blog post. It's an experimental exercise, so please bear with me through the change in tone.

I'm going to write this entire thing as a stream of consciousness. I'm not going to pause to backspace and delete. (Funny thing: I just misspelled the word "delete," so I had to backspace. But no more! I'll have to go back to add Bible verses and formatting... but not till I get all these words down.)

Here's a confession: It normally takes me about 6 or 7 hours to write each blog post, not including the preliminary research. It's not because I'm a slow typist. It's because I'm a paranoid perfectionist. I can't get one sentence down without second-guessing the word choice, and cadence, and whether or not people will read it and be inspired... or impressed.

“Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ.” – GALATIANS 1:10 (NIV)

If I'm honest, it's all about impressing you. Whoever you are out there, I want you to read this thing and be impressed. I want you to think, "Gee, this girl really has it all together. She's smart, and deep, and funny, and by golly, I'd like to be her friend!"

Blah... I really want to go back and delete that last paragraph.  That was way too vulnerable. But I just learned from a TED talk by Brené Brown that vulnerability "is the birthplace of joy, of creativity, of belonging, of love."

I want to have joy, I want to unleash creativity, I want to belong... and yes, I want you to love me. I'd rather have a few deep, but genuine relationships than a lot of shallow ones.

But I'm finally realizing that we'll never get there if I don't let you SEE me. All of me... even all the imperfect stuff. (Just misspelled "imperfect" and had to backspace... oy vey.)

Here's some more vulnerability for you...

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Fortissimo Jesus

My dad tells a story of a boyhood trumpet lesson in which he plopped down before his instructor, brought his instrument to his lips, and lazily pressed the valves through the first few measures of a piece.

It wasn't long before the instructor interrupted him, waving his hands in disapproval.

"Don't play, tha-tha-tha," he corrected, mimicking my father's apathy with a half-closed eyelid and a limp wrist in the air. "You must play, BA-BA-BA!"

The instructor pounded his fist against his palm with each BA. Then, in a swell of passion, plunged a pencil straight through my father's sheet music, tearing a hole in it.

My dad's wide eyes darted from the pencil sticking out of his music, to his instructor's flaring nostrils, and back to the dynamic marking in the first measure—fortissimo.

His heart began to race as he realized he'd better start playing like he meant it. He puffed his cheeks, raised his shoulders, and summoned all the breath his lungs to play with the enthusiasm that the piece called for. Finally, his instructor was pleased.

Rotten Roots

"You have not chosen Me, but I have chosen you and I have appointed you [I have planted you], that you might go and bear fruit and keep on bearing, and that your fruit may be lasting..."

–John 15:16 (AMP)

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Receiving our new nature in Christ is supposed to be a dazzling transformation, isn't it? It's like a quick change act—old stuff off, new stuff on, and bada bing—we're a new creation, right?

While I'm pretty sure I've heard it preached that way before, I'm not so convinced that's what Paul meant in his letter to the Ephesians (see verse). If you're like many of us on the sanctification journey, you've noticed that some old ways are just harder to shake than others.

Maybe your swearing habit ended immediately after coming to faith in Christ, but you still struggle with depression, or anger, or a phobia, or an eating disorder, or failed relationships, or an addiction, or another fill-in-the-blank clinging issue from the past.

Wouldn't it be great if the Christian bookstore carried a spiritual anti-static spray? Apply liberally from head to toe for lifelong relief from those pesky, clinging, old-nature garments. Sorry, either LifeWay is fresh out or they've got it tucked away in a vault somewhere and you need to whisper a codeword to access it. I tried "Jesus Fish," but the clerk just pointed me to a rack of bumper stickers and gummy bracelets. No dice.

So what's the deal with the stuff that won't come off? Get your gardening gloves and your floppy sun hat ready—it's time to head out to the orchard for an object lesson.

I wouldn't call myself a horticulturist by any means, but I've watched enough plants die to have learned this rule of green thumbs: If a plant is struggling, check for problems at the root.

When a skilled gardener notices a plant that's wilting or barely producing fruit, he doesn't simply fling fertilizer at it, spray some pesticides, and hope for the best. He takes a close look at it, uprooting it if he has to, in order to treat the problem at its source.

Depending on how long you've walked with Christ, you may have read books on the subject of your affliction, downloaded sermons, made positive confessions, attended seminars, and stood in prayer lines long enough to wear out your shoe inserts.

If you've done all that and still find yourself struggling, you may have been attempting to treat the fruit without examining the root. You might have a case of deep-down root rot that's going to keep causing problems until you're brave enough to dig it up.

What is Root Rot?

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In the gardening world, root rot occurs when soil becomes infected with a fungus, often due to overwatering. As roots loose oxygen in this stagnant setting, leaves and fruit gradually wither until the entire plant eventually decays (view source).

Let's think of our life-shaping experiences from birth up to the present as our underground root system. Above the ground, our leaves and fruit are our present contributions to the world around us, both good and bad (see Matthew 7:15-20).

Healthy Roots: These are positive, growth-promoting experiences from our past, such as: affirmation from parents, peers, and role-models; educational opportunities; spiritually formative experiences, etc.

Rotten Roots: These are negative—often shameful—experiences from our past, which may include: insults, neglect, trauma, introduction to perversion, and abuse in its many forms.

Spiritual Root Rot: Like the natural world, this spiritual condition occurs when rotten roots go untreated. After we come to faith in Christ, a beautiful network of healthy roots begins to take shape within, bringing forth fruit in our thoughts and actions, in our home life and professional life, and in our ministry. However, even with all this new life bursting forth, it's possible for sickly branches and sour fruit to hang on. Why? Because sanctification is a process.

Taking a Break from Blogging

Thank you to those who have been so supportive of this blog. I'm taking a break for some time. I hope to return to writing in a few months. Blessings to each of you.

Cutting Teeth (Spiritually Speaking) Part II

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"Anyone who lives on milk, being still an infant, is not acquainted with the teaching about righteousness. But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil."

–Hebrews 5:13,14 (NIV)

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In my last post, I shared how my current spiritual predicament has me exhibiting many of the same teething symptoms as my 6-month-old daughter.

As painful as it's been to face the dark, putrid recesses of my heart that have gone unattended for far too long, I can't help but feel overwhelmingly grateful.

I'm grateful for the loving discipline of my Heavenly Father, I'm grateful that I finally have a personal revelation of His grace, and I'm grateful that He is at work within me to sanctify me for His good purposes (see Hebrews 12:6, Romans 3:24, and Philippians 2:12-13).

I've found a lot of encouragement lately through studying the life of the Apostle Peter. While Peter certainly did a lot of incredible things in his lifetime, many of those deeds were actually incredibly foolish. I can relate to Peter—being led by the Spirit one moment and then getting dragged around by my sinful nature the next.

When you stop to think about it, it's amazing that Jesus chose to build His Church the "exemplar of the forgiven sinner," (Harrington, Daniel J. "Peter the Rock." America, August 18–25, 2008). That's good news for you and me. If Christ can see the potential hidden beneath the scruffy beard of an impetuous fisherman, He can certainly draw out our goodness as well.

In the Gospels, we walk with Peter through both his victories and his failures. Along the way Peter learns valuable lessons in humility, which serve to level-out his pride and solidify his shaky faith.

You might say that Peter has to endure the pain of teething before he can bite into the life of influence that awaits him. Well, you might not say that, but I might. In fact, I will. I'll share snippets from the life of Peter to support each point in this list of...

Cutting Teeth (Spiritually Speaking) Part I

My fussy little girl teething

My six-month-old likes to teethe on my hand while she wrestles herself to sleep. Last night, I was surprised to feel a little something sharp each time she bit down. When I rubbed my finger along her bottom gum, I was happy to discover—you guessed it—her first tooth, making it's way to the surface!

As thrilled as I am that her sweet smile will soon be filled with a set of chompers, I can't help but feel apprehensive about the teething journey ahead of us. I like to study-to-death whatever challenge is on the horizon, so naturally, I did some reading on the subject of teething last night.

I came across a bulleted list of teething symptoms, and thought that would be a good place to start (see article). It was all very familiar: irritability, biting behavior, sleep problems, etc. Midway through the list, however, a realization swept over me that caused me to pause. I read the list again from top to bottom. Then I read it a few times more, first with concern, then with laughter, and finally with some tears in the mix.

The symptoms were indeed familiar, strangely familiar. In fact, at 28-years-old, I can say with a fair amount of certainty that I'm cutting a new set of teeth—spiritually speaking, of course.

I'll go ahead and put it plainly so you can track with me through the metaphor. Lately in my Christian journey, I've sensed that God is calling me to deeper studies and challenging me to think and act with greater integrity. Just as my daughter will soon chew and swallow exciting new tastes and textures, I have this feeling that I'm approaching a new level of spiritual maturity, and that God is about to entrust me with some things I've longed for.

It's all very exciting. Along the way, however, the Author and Perfecter of my faith has brought to light several areas of immaturity that must be dealt with before I can sink my teeth into the good stuff that awaits me. It's as if, moment by moment, I can hear my Savior challenging me to deny myself, take up my cross, and follow Him (see Matthew 16:24).

"There is no coming to consciousness without pain. People will do anything, no matter how absurd, to avoid facing their own soul. One does not become  enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious." –Carl Gustav Jung

Just in case all of that sounds overly impressive and noble to you, I must say, there's not one thing dignified about it. It's heart-wrenching, mortifying, and agonizingly painful to face the deep-rooted issues that I've tried so hard to keep concealed. Now that the jig is up, I'm forced to take a hard, close look at the flaws that make me such a debtor to God's grace.

It's an ugly process, let me tell you.

Then again, if you've hung around me lately, I probably don't need to tell you. Like my teething little girl, I haven't been myself lately. I've been, as we say, a fussy pants. (I thought I'd use the term we use for our six-month-old, rather than any of the adjectives that might naturally come to mind when seeking to describe a grown woman who's unpleasant.) It's true. One minute I'm crying, the next I'm unduly defensive, the next I'm distant and distracted. Every once in a while I allow myself to loosen up and laugh, but those moments are usually followed by an inner struggle that sets me on edge again.

In case you're thinking that I've just described a particular phase of my feminine cycle, I've got news for you: this stuff has lasted for weeks on end. Yes, please do add my husband and coworkers to your prayer list.

So, where am I headed with all this? Well, getting back to that list of teething symptoms, I thought I'd base my next post on 3 tell-tale signs that you're cutting new teeth on a spiritual level. Although I'm still learning along the way, I'll share some thoughts on how you can journey to a new level of spiritual maturity victoriously, with both your sanity and close relationships still intact.

Closing thoughts to chew on...
Have you ever journeyed through a similar "dark night of the soul," as St. John of the Cross coined his experience back in the 16th century? Perhaps you're in that place right now. If so, I certainly feel for you, and I pray that you'll seek God's strength to embrace your cross and keep pressing on:

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"I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead.

"Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."

–Philippians 3:10-14 (NIV)

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Why Words Matter

Husbands' responses on facebook. Click to zoom.

This was supposed to be a post on the subject of true beauty. I posed a question on facebook asking husbands to share their wives' top five most beautiful qualities. When the responses came in, I thought I'd compile the results and use them as a basis for my writing.

But there's been a change of plans.

Five husbands stepped up to the plate and offered a reply. As I read through their candid, heartfelt expressions (to the left), two questions came to mind, which subsequently changed the course of this blogpost:

1. Why didn't more men seize this opportunity to publicly dote on their wives? Maybe I didn't chose an ideal time of the day to post the question, but perhaps there was more to it than that.

2. What's unique about these five men and their marriages? They and their wives must be doing something right in order for these words of affirmation to come so freely.

While I'm not sure if I have answers to either of those questions, I do know that each of the five husbands have been married for several years, surely having gone through ups and downs and gaining wisdom along the way. So, we can't chalk up their kind words to dewy-eyed infatuation. Their words were rooted in true, time-tested love, and we can learn from them.

Or maybe they each gave in to some big spending on Black Friday and hoped the compliments would rack up some points toward their wives' good graces... but let's operate under the assumption that this wasn't the case.

I'm no counselor, and I've only been married for five years, but I'm a student of God's Word and I like to think that I've learned a thing or two through observing human behavior and reading some good books on marriage. Anyway, this is my blog and I get to post what I want on it. Take it or leave it, here's my two-cents on words of affirmation.

Drawing the Line

Bugs Bunny dares Yosemite Sam to cross the line

I spent a good chunk of my childhood planted in front of the television with Warner Brothers cartoons flashing before my eyes. (This might explain my fear of falling pianos and my inability to pronounce succotash without a lisp.)

Every once in a while a scene from one of these animated treasures floats to the surface of my memory and offers a valuable life lesson.

Seems unlikely, I know, but stick with me while I connect the dots.

The other day, I mentioned to a coworker that I wouldn't trust myself to sit alone in an office with unopened boxes of pies, as she had been doing all day. I have restraint issues when it comes to baked goods, so I have to draw some hard boundary lines in order to prevent myself from overindulging. (See my post on weight loss for more on that.)

That conversation got me thinking about boundaries and the danger of trusting ourselves, or our willpower, in other words.

In the clip above, poor Yosemite Sam gets duped when Bugs Bunny dares him to cross a line again and again until he eventually falls off a cliff.

Can you relate? I know I can.

Just like that cliff off in the distance, we can look at any of the seven deadly sins and think, "I'd never fall into that. You'd have to be an idiot to get tripped-up that badly."

But Satan knows just how to position us where he wants us. He draws a line and dares us to cross it. Then he draws another. We might follow with some trepidation at first, but if we keep going, our inhibitions diminish and even disappear as we continually defy the Holy Spirit's conviction.

We tell ourselves that we're in control of the situation even as we're in the midst of compromising, one wayward step at a time—until we fall.

Thankfully, Christ-followers can avoid the rabbit trail to destruction with much greater success than our pal Yosemite.

3 Keys to Overcoming Temptation

Put Up Your Dukes

Exodus 17:8-16 (NIV) The Amalekites came and attacked the Israelites at Rephidim. Moses said to Joshua, “Choose some of our men and go out to fight the Amalekites. Tomorrow I will stand on top of the hill with the staff of God in my hands.” So Joshua fought the Amalekites as Moses had ordered, and Moses, Aaron and Hur went to the top of the hill. As long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning, but whenever he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning. When Moses’ hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held his hands up—one on one side, one on the other—so that his hands remained steady till sunset. So Joshua overcame the Amalekite army with the sword. Then the Lord said to Moses, “Write this on a scroll as something to be remembered...” Moses built an altar and called it The Lord is my Banner. He said, “Because hands were lifted up against the throne of the Lord, the Lord will be at war against the Amalekites from generation to generation.”		I'm going to be honest upfront so you can decide whether or not you'd like to keep reading. I don't have the energy to be witty or clever tonight. This blog post won't include a fuzzy story to keep things light, and it might not be very eloquent. Here's why: The enemy of my soul nearly knocked the wind out of me this week. I've had to wake up, stand up, and put up my dukes, spiritually speaking. Ever been there? If you have, you might understand why I felt the need to put everything on hold and have church tonight. You're welcome to join me, or if you've had enough already, you can go ahead and X-out of this window. I won't judge. I know those funny cat videos won't watch themselves. Still there? Cool. I hope this post is worth your while. Go ahead and read the passage to the left. You'll need that if you want to follow along. (It's about how Moses had to keep his hands raised while the Israelites fought the Amalekites.) This story of perseverance in the midst of battle has been running through my mind all day. The Spirit of God even brought a little 3-point message to heart, complete with a song list. Hope this has meaning for you as it does for me...

Put Up Your Dukes

3 Keys to Victory

Called Out of the Shrub

We celebrated a nap time breakthrough a few weeks ago. All on her own, Karen stuck her thumb in her mouth, rolled over, and conked out for a two-hour siesta.

If that doesn't seem like a big deal to you, you've probably never rocked a sleeping baby until your appendages went numb.

Over the next several days, Karen really got the hang of soothing herself to sleep. It wasn't until her doctor's appointment this past Friday that we encountered a hiccup in her new routine.

Karen received 5 different vaccines, which not only made her cry in the moment, but also left her with side-effects that made her extra cranky all weekend. Consequently, she was too restless to nap all on her own. She needed the extra reassurance of my arms in order to feel secure enough to rest.

As I rocked my little girl to sleep and did my best to comfort her, I began to think about how our loving Father comforts His children in the midst of trials.

At one time or another, we each find ourselves in circumstances that shake us to our core. Like the prophet Elijah in 1 Kings 19, we might long to run away and take cover under a shrub.

I know I've been there. The next time you find yourself in a dire situation, it may be helpful to reflect on how God lovingly met Elijah in the midst of his despair, and raised him up to fulfill his calling:

My Cat is a Parasite: Considering Give-and-Take

Don't get me wrong, our cat is cute and all. But if a parasite is an organism that harmfully feeds off another without giving anything in return, Miss Willow fits the bill. Well, almost. In exchange for all the time and money we spend on her upkeep, she's benevolent enough to offer a never ending supply of fur, dander, and feces.

This revelation regarding our freeloading fur-ball caused me to think back to a high school biology lesson on symbiosis. It occurred to me that it may be possible to categorize the important relationships in my life using the terms that scientists have coined for interspecies interactions.

Allow me to demonstrate:

3 Major Types of Symbiosis More Info »
MUTUALISM	Mutually beneficial relationship
Example: Karen and I. Caring for my daughter gives me joy. As she's cared-for, she continues to grow and defy the laws of cuteness.
COMMENSALISM	One organism benefits and the other is hardly affected
Example: My Neighbor and I. My next-door neighbor volunteers her time to manage the gardening in our development. I do nothing for her in return. Shucks, that makes me sound horrible... I did give her a tin of cookies at Christmas.
PARASITISM	One organism benefits and the other is harmed
Example: My Cat and I. She eats, poops, and vomits. I buy her food and clean up her mess. If leeches had fur and whiskers I guess we'd keep them as pets too.

Evaluating the give-and-take in our relationships can be a healthy exercise. As we consider our needs and the needs we help fulfill in others, we can weigh-out the areas where we may be off-balance. In the case of my neighbor, I'd like to get to know her better and figure out how I can be a blessing in her life. The store-bought cookies don't seem to cut it.

Here are a few types of relational unbalance that come to mind:

Worthy of Love

Apparently children can't wrap their minds around the idea of their personal reflection until somewhere around 15 or 18 months of age. That means my 3-month-old daughter can't comprehend that she's looking at herself when she tracks her own baby blues in the mirror.

With this in mind, I can't help but wonder what she's thinking when she sees her reflection.

If we could translate her baby thoughts, would she say to herself, "Hello, little friend! You're cute. I like you!"

Or rather, "Ugh, those thighs. Girl, you oughta be drinking skim!"

When I think back to my own childhood, I'm not sure how old I was when I began to feel shame about my appearance. At some point in time, my focus in the mirror drifted away from the spinning ruffles of my dresses and settled on the bump on the bridge of my nose, the moles on my skin, and the way my calves seemed so stubby compared to everyone else's.

I'd like to say that I left those insecurities behind in my gel-penned journal pages from junior high, but if I'm honest, I still struggle. In moments of weakness, I still wonder if my shortcomings render me unworthy of love.

As a reminder for myself and a prayer for my daughter, I studied Psalm 23 this morning in light of God's all-sufficient love:

Why I Don't Drink - FAQ

I get a lot of questions about why I choose not to drink alcohol, so I thought it was about time I wrote a blog post on the subject.

Contrary to what some might assume, my reasoning behind abstaining has little to do with my Christian faith and much more to do with past experiences.

Before we dive in, I'd like to make things clear from the get-go that my motivation behind writing this post is not to stir up arguments. I'm just sharing my personal convictions, not passing judgment on anyone else's. Those who know me will attest to the fact that I'm a peacemaker to a fault, and definitely not a fan of controversy.

So, let's begin. I thought I'd tackle the subject in the form of questions I've received in everyday conversation:

Karen Gets in Touch with Her Latina Roots

One of the awesome things I've discovered about parenting is that it's socially acceptable to behave like a complete goofball, as long as your undignified behavior is an apparent attempt to keep your child entertained. For example, now that Karen is more alert and holding her head up a bit, we spend lots of time bopping around to my favorite old songs.

Here's a little glimpse of our fun this morning as Karen got her groove on—Latina style:

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"…I will celebrate before the Lord. I will become even more undignified than this, and I will be humiliated in my own eyes…" - 2 Samuel 6:21-22 (NIV)