"beloved"

know that love is there for you
because you are worthy of love.
you were made for love; you were made to be loved.
love is your purpose -- love and be loved,
receive love, accept love
-- it's yours! --
Jesus died so you'd see his love,
so he could love you more fully,
so you could love like him, so you could love him.
your love is worth the life of God Himself.
you are worthy of such love that could stop the universe,
create time, inspire beauty, suffer infinitely.
God loves you;
God has made you worthy of love.
be loved.

I Hate "Christian" Guilt Emails

Here's a classic example. Why do we do this to each other? I hate the overtones of guilt and condemnation, the message that "if you're a good Christian, you'll pass this on."

As if God would operate such a condemning mission! His message is grace, and love. He loves us even when we mess up, and he doesn't require ridiculous things from us, like feeling guilty for carrying cell phones instead of big, heavy bibles, for instance.

"There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." (Romans 8:1)

And, if that wasn't clear enough, "If God is for us [and he is], who can ever be against us? ... Who dares accuse us whom God has chosen for his own? Will God? No! He is the one who has given us right standing with himself. Who then will condemn us? Will Christ Jesus? No, for he is the one who died for us and was raised to life for us and is sitting at the place of highest honor next to God, pleading for us. Can anything ever separate us from Christ's love?" Romans 8:31...33-35

My point is, condemning messages, even ones with "godly" overtones, come not from God's loving heart but from Satan's un-heart that wants to tear us down and make us feel like horrible people. His goal is to weigh us down with such heavy, insignificant burdens that we feel like we can't face God because we're not worthy.

But God has given us right standing with himself. He has made us worthy. And when we turn to him for help, he lifts off the weights and can even help us become better people -- from the inside, where it really counts.

And only he is capable of affecting such change in us. He is the changer of hearts. Emails like this one only put weights of guilt on us that can keep us from turning to him for the real transformation.

Read it for yourself, if you like, and think about how it makes you feel. Then let's listen to God's word instead and encourage one another with his love and grace. ♥


"Cell phone vs. Bible


Ever wonder what would happen if we treated our Bible like we treat

our cell phone?


What if we carried it around in our purses or pockets?


What if we flipped through it several time a day?


What if we turned back to go get it if we forgot it?


What if we used it to receive messages from the text?


What if we treated it like we couldn't live without it?


What if we gave it to Kids as gifts?


What if we used it when we traveled?


What if we used it in case of emergency?


This is something to make you go....hmm...where is my Bible?


Oh, and one more thing.
Unlike our cell phone, we don't have to worry about our Bible being
disconnected because Jesus already paid the bill.


Makes you stop and think 'where are my priorities? And no dropped calls!


P.S. DO WHAT YOU THINK GOD WOULD WANT YOU TO DO WITH THIS EMAIL

Trust in the Lord and *ASAP (Always Say A Prayer)

Have a blessed and wonderful day!

Knock, Knock I knocked at heaven's door this morning. God asked me...'My child, what can I do for you?' And I said, 'Father, please protect and bless the person reading this message.' God smiled and answered. ..'Request granted'. If you believe, send this to seven people. By doing this, you have succeeded in praying for eight people today. 'Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.'

When Jesus died on the cross, he was thinking of you!

If you are one of the 7% who will stand up for Him, forward this.

93% of people won't forward this"

Talking Myself Into It

I keep trying to decide what kind of artist I want to be. It's silly, really, since the decision-making process takes into account stupid things, like "What kind of art is most popular, what makes the most money, what is the most famous, and what kind do I most admire?"

I've decided, just a couple minutes ago, that I'm going to have to just get painting and see what kind of artist I already am.

Why be a realist if I prefer more vivid colours?

Why paint things exactly as they are? I might as well just take a picture.

Why try to paint subject matter that other people like, and be stuck with a drudgery of a painting with no passion in it?

Why do I keep talking myself out of painting before I even begin? !!!

No more talking in my head. Time to just get going, get painting, get disciplined enough to do it every day, and see what comes out of it. Time to find out what kind of artist I am. And time to have fun!

Pressing My Buttons

Lately, my life has consisted of various frustrations, ranging in degree from minor to (what seems like) extreme, and some days, all the little frustrations run together into a big, fat blob of wanting-to-crawl-back-into-bed-but-I-can't-because-even-if-I-hadn't-drank-so-much-coffee-the-kids-are-still-awake-anyway frustration. Sigh.

Take for instance, the toilet. The first time I heard my twins' laughter coming from the bathroom, I thought to myself, "Oh, isn't that just the cutest sound! They must be trying to reach their bath toys." I'm sure you've already guessed what I actually found when I walked in: two little radiantly happy boys who had found a constant supply of water for splashing, whose sleeves and grinning faces were soaked and dripping with toilet water.

"Ack!" I cried, running to pick them up and scold them, telling them, "Dirty! Dirty! Yucky! We don't play in the toilet!"

I set them down, despondent, in the living room, and stripped off their wet shirts, wiped their faces and hands, and tried to disinfect them. They gazed, longingly, at the bathroom.

The next day, I had forgotten to put the baby gate up (thinking ridiculously that the previous day's scolding had made an impression), and I once again heard the dreaded sound of giggling coming from the bathroom.

Yep. Just re-read the above for an accurate description of what followed. Again.

The only difference is, the second time I had the presence of mind to scrub the toilet bowl clean, "just in case."

And it's a good thing I did, too. I don't know how the little rascals conspire to drive me so crazy, but they have gotten into the toilet at least one more time since the first two days of insanity. And if they're not splashing in the toilet, they're holding on to my knees and crying while I'm trying to -- finally -- eat my own breakfast.

There just isn't enough coffee in the world, lately.

I've been trying recently to cut back on my coffee consumption, actually. But, since I am prone to seasonal depression, and this is my first winter in a while without my antidepressants (see my other blog for reasons), I decided it would be foolish to give up such a happy drink in the middle of winter. Did you know coffee stimulates adrenaline and dopamine production? Hence the lovely burst of energy and happy euphoria. :)

Add the myriad other small frustrations to the toilet-splashing twins and the caffeine guilt -- like renovations, being housebound, needing an hour just to dress four wiggling boys in snowsuits, and not having any time to paint, and then not having any inspiration when I do have time to paint, not to mention the never-ending drudgery of housework that needs doing again as soon as I've done it -- and I'm feeling a little, shall we say, antsy lately.

I keep looking for the off button for all these frustrations, but so far, the only thing I've found is a reset button. And the problem with a reset button, of course, is that it doesn't turn things off for good! But I suppose it's better than no button at all.

Becoming Christ-Centred, Part 1

Today at my church, our pastor encouraged and challenged us all to take the jump from being growing Christians to being Christ-centered Christians. In other words, he challenged us to quit asking God what he can do for us and to become willing to let go of everything and cling only to Christ.

Sounds scary, doesn't it?

I remember how I used to read that God's will is good and pleasing and perfect, but the whole time, there was a niggling doubt in my mind. What if it was only pleasing to him, and not to me? What if I said yes to him, and he asked me to do something that scared me?

Gradually, I quit saying yes to him. It was subtle at first, but before long, all the joy that I had experienced as a new Christian had disappeared, and I was faking it. I felt empty and out-of-sorts, but I kept going through the motions of being a "good Christian." Meanwhile, I was bogged down with guilt over my inadequacy.

So what happened to me? How come I can say all of these things in the past tense now? Well, when I think about it, there are a couple things that stand out to me.

The first change happened when a friend told me this: That, in essence, once we get to a plateau in our faith, most of us try to regain our initial spark, our first emotional high we experienced as new believers. We try to go back. But the thing to do is not to re-capture that fleeting honeymoon feeling, but to go forward into a new and deeper commitment, one based not on emotions but on obedience.

The next big change started happening when I admitted to God that I didn't trust him. Not one little bit. I was so sure he'd be mad, or hurt, that I could barely even admit it to myself, let alone him, for the longest time. But he isn't like a person who takes offense; he already knew I didn't trust him, long before I found out.

Then, once it was out in the open, I felt so relieved. I had told God I didn't trust him, and he hadn't struck me down with lightning. I didn't even feel a bit of condemnation from him. Instead, I felt his approval, his gladness that I was finally being honest. That's when I learned the meaning of the verse, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven," from Matthew 5. I finally knew, without a doubt, that I had nothing spiritual to offer God. All my striving to become the mature Christian and do all the right things had gotten me nowhere. I couldn't produce my own fruit.

So, I asked for his help. I basically said, "Okay, I really don't trust you, but I want to. At least, I want to want to. I'm still a little scared, so you're going to have to change me. Help!"

My life didn't change right away, but my heart was different. I wasn't resisting any more. I didn't know it, but I was on my way to Christ-centeredness.

Why Has God Seemed Distant Lately?

I'm processing something, so I'll write about it.

I want to know what God's plan is, in all its details and timelines. How should we spend our money? Do we renovate or not? Are we going to have more kids, and if we do, will they be ours, or should we adopt?

I have so many questions for him, but at the same time, I'm finally feeling at peace again, after a frustrating and distant two weeks. Isn't it funny how God can feel so distant, even though we know he's right there? I felt like I was praying up against a wall, talking but not really communicating. I couldn't really hear him very well; I've been so tired and distracted lately that I didn't really notice it at first, but my blahs caught up to me tonight, and I asked him about it.

"Where are you? What happened to me that I feel distant from you?"

And I actually sat down and tried to muddle it out instead of complaining and moving on to the next activity, like I usually do.

I retraced my steps back to when I first noticed feeling out of whack, and I really thought about what might have happened. And you know what it was? It's the same thing as it always is when God feels distant to me. I had started saying no to him.

It was just a stupid, little thing that you'd think wouldn't make a difference. Really, it was just me deciding I wanted things a certain way, and then deciding not to ask my Father if that was his best plan, because I wanted it that way. I figured he wouldn't really care about it anyway.

But he cares about everything. :) And my stubborn heart blocked up our communication. The issue itself didn't really matter to him; it was my stubbornness, my "No, I want it my way," -- or, in more precise terms, "La la la la, I'm not listening," -- that mattered to him.

And, what do you know, when I told him I wasn't listening, I stopped hearing from him! Go figure.

Oddly enough, as soon as I figured this out tonight, let go of my stubborn desires, and said yes to him, I felt at peace.

I still have no idea what the specifics of his plans for me are, but now that I'm not stubbornly insisting on my own way anymore, I don't mind. He'll work it all out, and I'll be there to watch in awe, with my mouth hanging open a little, as I see how amazing his plans can be.

Blessed Are The Poor In Spirit...

Strange things are happening.

I was sitting in church yesterday when my mind wandered. Somehow, I went from focusing on what Rod was saying to thinking about my spiritual journey and how I always seem to be closer to God when crises are happening. I cling to him when I need him, and coast when things are easy.

That's when the light bulb went on.

You see, I've been struggling lately. I've been complaining to God about my best friend moving away. Far, far away. Throughout this whole last year and a half, whenever I needed a friend to cry with or just some godly perspective, she's been there. And now, when I'm sad about her leaving, I think, "I should call N to come over for some coffee and a chat," then I realize that I can't. And that makes it worse.

The light bulb moment came when I realized that all my sadness about her leaving is actually creating a bit of a crisis... which in turn draws me to rely on God more. So really, God isn't being mean to me or her for calling her family away. He's being kind. He's drawing us to himself. *Bing!*

I know it's a little strange to be a bit of a crisis junkie, finding it easier to rely on God when I've got no resources left. Most people seem to do the opposite, praising him when things are going well and questioning him when things don't go their way. But really, I do that, too. I question him and complain a lot. I struggle through his motives, his trustworthiness, my faith.

But every time a crisis comes and I choose to rely on him, I find him to be an unwavering rock, a comfort, and a source of inexplicable strength. Every time I've been forced to see if his promises are true, I have discovered them to be absolutely real.

It's been in the worst times of my life that I've gotten to know him best. Those are the moments that my faith went from something that created emotional highs to something that created deep roots of strength and peace and trust.

Doesn't God work in strange ways?