Okay so I just have to share this recipe seeing as I have already made them twice this week!
Last week I was hanging out with my precious sister-in-law and my little nephew and she had to make a few recipes. So she starts telling me about how she is always trying to find little ways to sneak more veggies into his diet...he's a year old! I loveeee my sister!! So much to learn :)
So she made these carrot zucchini muffins and carrot cookies. Delicious. That's what I was NOT thinking. Just the sound of it...sick nasty. But she gave me a little sample and it wasn't bad. So I got back to Fayetteville and realized I really should learn to trick myself into eating more veggies. So I decided to try it out...the muffins a least. The cookies mught be pushing it! And let's just say it was a sucess!
Whether you're trying to "trick" your kids into eating more veggies or would like a healthy yet sweet treat yourself, these muffins are for you. As my family and roomates can vouch, I am one of the most picky eaters around, so for me to say that I am addicted to muffins stuffed with veggies, veggies that I don't even like by themselves, is saying a whole lot about these muffins!
Here is the recipe:
CARROT ZUCCHINI MUFFINS
1/4 c. canola oil
1/2 c. brown sugar
1 egg
3/4 c. applesauce (cinnamon will make them sweeter...I like the natural though)
1 c. grated carrots
1 c. grated zucchini
1 c. all purpose whole wheat flour
3/4 c. all purpose flour
2 t. baking powder
1 t. cinnamon
1/2 t. ground nutmeg
1/2 t. salt
1.) whisk the oil and bown sugar in large bowl
2.) add the egg and applesauce, whisk or beat (I just stir really hard b/c it's easier then getting the beater out)
3.) Stir in the carrot and zucchini
4.) In a seperate bowl, combine all dry ingredients
5.) Add dry to wet and stir
6.) Bake at 400 for about 16-20 mins.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Precious Memories
I know I am a little bit behind, but last week my big sister Ashley Luster got to come down to Fayetteville to spend some sweet time with her sisters...and me! :) It was so fun to get to show her my home away from home. We got to see my apartment and meet a couple of my roomates. Of course she graciously shaped up my eyebrows because I refused to leave until she did! One of the biggest disadvantages to moving so far away would probably be losing my personal eye-brow plucker...oh and I guess I kinda miss the girl herself too :)
Then we were going to go to this little hole in wall for lunch called the Little Bread Co but it was closed--sad day. So enstead we tried out a place neither of us had been which was literally in a dungeon! haha. Okay no, but seriously you had to walk underground into a basement basically. It was a fun little hamburger joint. Ironically, neither of us actually got a hambuger. Ever since daddy King said that hambugers were the ONE food you should literally never eat (unless you make it at home on the grill) I have not been able to do it! And I guess Ash hasn't either. But we shared a big basket of homeade fries and they were delicious.
I am so blessed to get to have a big sister who just knows me better then I know myself more often then not. I am so thankful for her years of wisdom and her honesty. Even when it hurts! Hurts soooo good, I guess you could say. It was refreshing and uplifting to have sweet conversations about just doing life with Jesus...and just praising His faithfulness and His sovereignty admist season of much inconsistency and change. Even admist her gift of lovingly wounding me.
The next day my precious roomate Heather and I got to go meet up with Ash for coffee and just chat some more about the precious Jesus that we get to love. The two them gabbed for ever about love and marriage and courtship and life as a wife and all of thesewonderful things about marriage that make my brain hurt and make me realize just how NOT ready I am for my husband. I loved getting to watch Ash retell her and Anthony's story; the hand of the Lord just envelops thier love...and thier story.
Then me and Ash got to road trip back to the Lou together...sort of. It was quite an adventure---exhausting! I did have fun packing a special snack bag for us.
By the end of the trip, we were getting SOOO sleepy so Ash tried to teleport us home; sad to say, it failed.
Then we were going to go to this little hole in wall for lunch called the Little Bread Co but it was closed--sad day. So enstead we tried out a place neither of us had been which was literally in a dungeon! haha. Okay no, but seriously you had to walk underground into a basement basically. It was a fun little hamburger joint. Ironically, neither of us actually got a hambuger. Ever since daddy King said that hambugers were the ONE food you should literally never eat (unless you make it at home on the grill) I have not been able to do it! And I guess Ash hasn't either. But we shared a big basket of homeade fries and they were delicious.
I am so blessed to get to have a big sister who just knows me better then I know myself more often then not. I am so thankful for her years of wisdom and her honesty. Even when it hurts! Hurts soooo good, I guess you could say. It was refreshing and uplifting to have sweet conversations about just doing life with Jesus...and just praising His faithfulness and His sovereignty admist season of much inconsistency and change. Even admist her gift of lovingly wounding me.
The next day my precious roomate Heather and I got to go meet up with Ash for coffee and just chat some more about the precious Jesus that we get to love. The two them gabbed for ever about love and marriage and courtship and life as a wife and all of these
Then me and Ash got to road trip back to the Lou together...sort of. It was quite an adventure---exhausting! I did have fun packing a special snack bag for us.
- Some Munchies...our favorte roadtrip food that we always get whenever we drive far away. She eats the cheese things, I eat the bread things and we pick through the pretzels; one thing neither of us enjoy.
- Some of Shelly Hunter's fabulous nut mix.
- Some bananas and grapes; delicious and nutricious.
- Some yummy chocolates for a sweet treat.
We made a few stops along the way. Several bathroom breaks; my tummy was not feeling good. And of course a stop in Springfield for Ash to stock up on Sinless Pastry---her fav coffee. Then a little-wake-me-up at Panera; coffee for Ash, begal for me. The trip was so fun, minus the rock that hit my windshield which will be getting replaced tomorrow. Dislike to trucks on the highway.
By the end of the trip, we were getting SOOO sleepy so Ash tried to teleport us home; sad to say, it failed.
Monday, March 21, 2011
A Little Pick Me Up
Okay so a few weeks ago when I was hanging out with the precious Shelly Hunter and the kiddos, she offered me a snack that she was giving the kids...I absolutely LOVED it and was so impressed by how she disguised such healthy nutrients into a little tasty, CHOCOLATE pick me up. I got back to Fayetteville and made it in bulk right away so that I would have it on hand. Now around 3 three o clock daily I find myself migrating the freezer. I was struggling so much with bad headaches every afternoon but just eating this little protein-packed delicious snack has eliminated those headaches without taking any meds! SO great!
The Recipe:
Walnuts
Pecans
Pumpkin Seeds
Sunflower Seeds
Chocolate Chips
Then, you dump them all into a freezer-size ziplock bag and place the bag in the freezer.
You will be amazed at how good these simple ingredients taste when they are frozen! Then I usually just take out a little bit and put it in a little ziplock or a small dish for my afternoon pick-me-up! It is packed full of protein and yet it is something I look forward to because I am a chocolate addict! It's got it all really! It is a perfect snack for the kiddos too!
You can make as much or as little as you want. You can also add differnt nuts/seeds. I tried adding peanuts and it is pretty good, but they dont taste as good frozen as the other nuts.
I buy all of the nuts/seeds in bulk at Trader Joes, Sams, or Costco because they are so much cheaper that way and obviously, in the freezer it lasts awhile!
Enjoy! Thank you Shelly Hunter!!!
The Recipe:
Walnuts
Pecans
Pumpkin Seeds
Sunflower Seeds
Chocolate Chips
Then, you dump them all into a freezer-size ziplock bag and place the bag in the freezer.
You will be amazed at how good these simple ingredients taste when they are frozen! Then I usually just take out a little bit and put it in a little ziplock or a small dish for my afternoon pick-me-up! It is packed full of protein and yet it is something I look forward to because I am a chocolate addict! It's got it all really! It is a perfect snack for the kiddos too!
You can make as much or as little as you want. You can also add differnt nuts/seeds. I tried adding peanuts and it is pretty good, but they dont taste as good frozen as the other nuts.
I buy all of the nuts/seeds in bulk at Trader Joes, Sams, or Costco because they are so much cheaper that way and obviously, in the freezer it lasts awhile!
Enjoy! Thank you Shelly Hunter!!!
Saturday, March 19, 2011
A Precious Mom
Me and Shelly |
So when I was home a few weeks ago for the weekend, I got to spend some sweet time with the precious Hunter family, well the Phillip and Shelly Hunter family :) I WISH that the rest of the Hunter family was still around here! What a blessing it is to be able to spend time with such a beautiful family!
I have always considered Phillip and Shelly my "spiritual parents," so getting to spend time with them and the kiddos is always such a sweet time for me. Every single time that I go over there just to hang out with Shelly and the kids, I walk away having learned SOMETHING new. This just speaks so much to what an incredible mom Shelly is. I LOVEEEE getting to learn from her because she is such an incredible godly wife to Phillip and mom to Atley, Avery, Cannon, and Champ. Her vision as a mom, is to point her kids to Jesus in every aspect of thier lives...from what she teaches them in the classroom to the toys that they play with to the books that they read...the list could go on forever. I think that more often then not, especially in the culture in which we live today, moms tend to delegate that role to others...the church, youth group, television, peers, books, school, and so on. I love that Shelly (and Phillip) refuses to leave the role of teaching her kids about the gospel to anyone else, and sees that as thier mom, if she teaches them nothing else, that is the ONE thing that really matters. I love that she wants them to memorize scripture. To teach them bible stories. To not let them play with all the "worldly" toys like Princesses and the latest movie action figures. To limit the movies/tv they get to watch.
More then anything, I love that Shelly never stops growing in wisdom and allowing the Lord to give her new visions and ideas to promote Christ in thier day-to-lives. I have also learned so much about how to discipline the kids, out of love of course, from Shelly. I can honestly say that every time I come home, the Lord has shown her something new to try out or convicted her about this or given her a new way of teaching them about that and so on. She is never afraid to confess to me her weaknesses as a mom either...she just puts it all out there and I cannot even begin to explain how much this encourages me and how much I learn from her...through the weaknesses and the strengths!
Shelly with her twin girls, Atley and Avery |
The biggest thing I see from Shelly is that motherhood is a process...how just like in our walk with the Lord, you are constantly growing in wisdom, seeing things you had never seen before, being convicted about things that previously didn't bother you, learning how to do things better and more effectively, rejoicing in the little victories, being continually refined by the trials and struggles. Shelly has been valnurable enough to allow me to see all of it...even the not "perfect" and "beautiful" aspects of raising a family. It's not always easy for sure.
I think that I relate to Shelly so much because she has always wanted to be a mom...it is who she is...what she was born to do...and she does it ALL to the glory of God, which is so evident after you're around her for a minute! I have always felt like I was just "born to be a mom," and that has always been the biggest part of my "dream" so to speak. Shelly has taught me to appreciate motherhood in a whole new way, to really understand what it means to be a mom; that it is a day in and day out, full time job! Yes--its incredible! And yet, it doesn't always feel like that "dream" you know? Motherhood is such a beautiful thing, yet it is never perfect either. For so long, I "perfected" it in my head. Shelly has taught me about the real thing; how to be a godly mom in real life, so to speak. Mostly because she is real. And this is
Me with the newest addition to the Hunter Family Baby Champ...soooo precious! |
not something I could ever learn in a textbook or in the classroom...I learn the real deal through spending time with Shelly, and year from now when I am starting my own family, it is all of these little, yet instrumental things that I learn just from Shelly allowing me to do life with her. And I praise God that He put such a precious, real woman who is just in love with Jesus in my life to teach me these things. Slowly, of course...little by little...like being a mom, learning about how to be a good mom is a PROCESS!!!
Man oh man, the Lord is faithful. My mind keeps going back to that verse that talks about how God puts the lonely in families...don't get me wrong, I have good realtionships with my parents now and siblings who are in love with Jesus who love me and from whom I learn SO much, but there is just something that I cannot explain really, that is just completely the Lord and how He really did just surround me with this spiritual family when I was in a pretty difficult and lonely season of life...and now four years later just to see how their role has changed, and yet has become more precious to me then ever before.
Shelly with sweet Cannon |
Phillip, Shelly and me |
Love you!!! |
Wow. Beautiful, faithful, sovereign Jesus, oh how I love Thee.
And what a blessing it has been, is, and will continue to be to do life with my spiritual family...Shelly, thank you for loving me, for pouring into me, and for allowing me to do life with you guys. I am so increibly thankful for you and the time I get to spend with you. You will never know how your love for the Lord, your love for Phillip and the kiddos, the way you have loved me...you'll never know how that being a part of all that, of seeing it, of feeling it...how that has changed my life. I Love you!!!
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
The One
Do you know misery? Do you know darkness? Do you know pain? Do you know hopelessness? Do you know worthlessness? Do you know torment? Do you know that feeling, the one that makes you wish you could just disappear?
Do you know the desperation, the burning and gnawing wretchedness that leads one to truly believe that the brightest alternative to this hell on earth, the easiest way to disappear, to escape from it all, is to bury oneself alive…literally?
A while back, I heard a story that comes to mind right now. Tonight I have been wrestling mercilessly in my head with this desire to have mercy for the ONE verses this calling to fight for justice for the HUNDREDS. Either way, there are cons. Sure, I could help the one, but in doing so would I harm the hundreds? How much help could I really offer to the one, that is after she was taken to a safe place…then what? I could help the hundreds over months and years, but what about the one that is being raped and beaten as I type this?
Mercy or Justice? The proper proportionate mixture of the two. It is a war that wages in my head continually these days. Whose side I am on, I honestly could not tell you.
But tonight as I was spending some time crying out on behalf of the ONE, the Lord gently confirmed my pleas by reminding me of a story I heard a bit ago. I changed it up a little bit and added my own take on it, but the concreteness of it is factual. It is utterly gut-wrenching and certainly inspires a sense of mercy for even the most heartless of persons.
A man was visiting a brothel. He was actually an undercover cop, but no one knew it. He was walking through the building, getting the lay of the land within this prominent Red Light District. As his eyes darted from room to room, corner to corner, he took up notes in his head as to the placement of everything. He knew in a few months he would be back here; the next time, he wouldn’t be undercover.
A few weeks prior, the authorities had several reports of possible cases of trafficking. It led to the discovery of a large trafficking ring, actually over 30 brothels intertwined, in one way or another. This was one of them. He was here on a mission; one which he could not act on until it could all come down at once. He was doing justice. It took time. But the payoff, well, the payoff would result in the HUNDREDS being set free.
As he finished up touring the inside, he noticed a door leading out back. He had come in broad daylight, so many of the young girls, free from the demand of their clientele, were playing outside on this sunny day. The door banged shut behind him as he took several steps out onto the back patio. His eyes skimmed the surroundings, as he immediately envisioned the troops surrounding the tall wooden fence, which currently served to lock these girls into this hellish nightmare. His plan of action was just about complete.
As he turned to head back into the darkness of the brothel, something caught his eye. He glanced back, as if his eyes were playing tricks on him. After all, there is no way he just saw what he thought he just saw. Slowly, he rotated his body back in the direction of the east end of the yard. Much of the terrain where the little girls were playing was sheeted in lifeless brown grass. Then there were certain parts of the ground encompassing the fence that were simply covered in dirt. Sitting deep in the shadow of the fence, he wonders how he even noticed her. Her skin was a light hazelnut, her tattered brown curls fell well past her shoulders. She was hunched over a bit, sitting in the dirt.
He watched her for a few long moments, as his eyes seemed to struggle to transmit to the proper signals to his brain to process what he was actually seeing. After all, this wasn’t the kind of thing they prepared you for in the force. This wasn’t the kind of thing they prepared you for in parenthood. This was just not something you would ever think you might need to be prepared for. In fact, nothing could prepare you for something of this gravity.
Hunched over, he watched as she leaned forward took up a handful of dirt into her palm. He felt his legs beging to wobble a bit, as he seemed to be losing his balance. He could not take his eyes off of her, though everything in him wanted to. He wished to run…to close his eyes and run away, like this wasn’t happening right before him. And yet, something kept his feet plastered to the ground beneath him. His eyes, wider then they ever have been, continued to watch her with great intent.
She sat back a bit, her bottom gently landing in the little pile of dirt that she rested on. He watched as she took the handful of dirt she had just picked up from the ground and proceeded to dump it right onto the top of her head. He watched her pale face expressionless face as she continued reaching forward and sweeping up large handfuls of dirt into her palms, and then piled it atop her curly locks of hair. It began to sweep down over her eyes, some piling up atop her sharp shoulder blades. Her white tank top was completely dusted in the russet dirt, its red undertones disguising her lighter complexion.
After an hour or so, of just being glued to that spot, one of the girls who had been playing with a ball walked over to the man. She followed his eyes which were still glued to the little girl covering herself in dirt. She tugged on the bottom of his shirt, breaking his trance and getting his attention. He looked down at her, her big brown eyes gazing up at him. Broken from his state of denial, he hesitated before proceeding to ask the childlike teenage girl what exactly that young girl was doing over there by fence.
Having already seen the child of whom he was speaking, the girl refused to unlock her eyes from his. She solemnly replied, looking straight into his eyes. She was taken from her maw when she was five years old. She new here. Last night, madam asked me to take her upstairs and get her ready for her debut. Her whole body, it was shakin as I applied the pink blush and dull lipstick. I tried to tell her she had to stop those tremors or they were gunna beat on her, but she didn’t seem to hear what I told her.
I took hold a her hand and escorted her to the line up. Several of the customers fought to have her. She was new, pure. Her kind was in high demand round here. Madam knew it too. It doesn’t happen this way much, but madam let them all have at her at once. Ten of them maybe. I sat outside the whole time. We could all hear her cries as they slapped her around her, the screams as they each got their go at her. Madam had me drug her up afterwards. She was pretty bloody, pretty darn messed up. I tried to talk to her, to tell her it would be okay. She just kept on staring away, gone to another place it seemed.
I guess she already gone and lost all her hope because now she over there trying to bury herself in that dirt pile. She done can’t handle the pain no more. She tryin to go on disappearing. I guess we all try to. She just out here makin it happen in the physical.
He stood, perfectly still, the tears pouring down his cheeks, as he realized that this one, this precious little girl, did not have enough time for him to do justice. He could not wait a month, a year, for the go ahead to save the hundreds. This ONE would not make it til then. The ONE needed him today, right now. He was overwhelmed by mercy. As he began striding towards her dirt pile in the corner of the yard, he decided that in this moment, right now, SHE mattered more then the hundreds.
Again I ask, do you know the desperation, the burning and gnawing wretchedness that leads one to truly believe that the brightest alternative to this hell on earth, the easiest way to disappear, to escape from it all, is to bury oneself alive…literally?
This precious little girl, made in the image God, birthed into this world with a divine purpose, plan, hope and future, set apart, beautiful in His eyes, is hurting so much that she sits in a pile of dirt, attempting to bury herself in it. This is when mercy for the ONE matters. Her life matters.
"Before I formed yo in the womb I knew you, before you were born, I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations." -Jer. 1:5
Do you know the desperation, the burning and gnawing wretchedness that leads one to truly believe that the brightest alternative to this hell on earth, the easiest way to disappear, to escape from it all, is to bury oneself alive…literally?
A while back, I heard a story that comes to mind right now. Tonight I have been wrestling mercilessly in my head with this desire to have mercy for the ONE verses this calling to fight for justice for the HUNDREDS. Either way, there are cons. Sure, I could help the one, but in doing so would I harm the hundreds? How much help could I really offer to the one, that is after she was taken to a safe place…then what? I could help the hundreds over months and years, but what about the one that is being raped and beaten as I type this?
Mercy or Justice? The proper proportionate mixture of the two. It is a war that wages in my head continually these days. Whose side I am on, I honestly could not tell you.
But tonight as I was spending some time crying out on behalf of the ONE, the Lord gently confirmed my pleas by reminding me of a story I heard a bit ago. I changed it up a little bit and added my own take on it, but the concreteness of it is factual. It is utterly gut-wrenching and certainly inspires a sense of mercy for even the most heartless of persons.
A man was visiting a brothel. He was actually an undercover cop, but no one knew it. He was walking through the building, getting the lay of the land within this prominent Red Light District. As his eyes darted from room to room, corner to corner, he took up notes in his head as to the placement of everything. He knew in a few months he would be back here; the next time, he wouldn’t be undercover.
A few weeks prior, the authorities had several reports of possible cases of trafficking. It led to the discovery of a large trafficking ring, actually over 30 brothels intertwined, in one way or another. This was one of them. He was here on a mission; one which he could not act on until it could all come down at once. He was doing justice. It took time. But the payoff, well, the payoff would result in the HUNDREDS being set free.
As he finished up touring the inside, he noticed a door leading out back. He had come in broad daylight, so many of the young girls, free from the demand of their clientele, were playing outside on this sunny day. The door banged shut behind him as he took several steps out onto the back patio. His eyes skimmed the surroundings, as he immediately envisioned the troops surrounding the tall wooden fence, which currently served to lock these girls into this hellish nightmare. His plan of action was just about complete.
As he turned to head back into the darkness of the brothel, something caught his eye. He glanced back, as if his eyes were playing tricks on him. After all, there is no way he just saw what he thought he just saw. Slowly, he rotated his body back in the direction of the east end of the yard. Much of the terrain where the little girls were playing was sheeted in lifeless brown grass. Then there were certain parts of the ground encompassing the fence that were simply covered in dirt. Sitting deep in the shadow of the fence, he wonders how he even noticed her. Her skin was a light hazelnut, her tattered brown curls fell well past her shoulders. She was hunched over a bit, sitting in the dirt.
He watched her for a few long moments, as his eyes seemed to struggle to transmit to the proper signals to his brain to process what he was actually seeing. After all, this wasn’t the kind of thing they prepared you for in the force. This wasn’t the kind of thing they prepared you for in parenthood. This was just not something you would ever think you might need to be prepared for. In fact, nothing could prepare you for something of this gravity.
Hunched over, he watched as she leaned forward took up a handful of dirt into her palm. He felt his legs beging to wobble a bit, as he seemed to be losing his balance. He could not take his eyes off of her, though everything in him wanted to. He wished to run…to close his eyes and run away, like this wasn’t happening right before him. And yet, something kept his feet plastered to the ground beneath him. His eyes, wider then they ever have been, continued to watch her with great intent.
She sat back a bit, her bottom gently landing in the little pile of dirt that she rested on. He watched as she took the handful of dirt she had just picked up from the ground and proceeded to dump it right onto the top of her head. He watched her pale face expressionless face as she continued reaching forward and sweeping up large handfuls of dirt into her palms, and then piled it atop her curly locks of hair. It began to sweep down over her eyes, some piling up atop her sharp shoulder blades. Her white tank top was completely dusted in the russet dirt, its red undertones disguising her lighter complexion.
After an hour or so, of just being glued to that spot, one of the girls who had been playing with a ball walked over to the man. She followed his eyes which were still glued to the little girl covering herself in dirt. She tugged on the bottom of his shirt, breaking his trance and getting his attention. He looked down at her, her big brown eyes gazing up at him. Broken from his state of denial, he hesitated before proceeding to ask the childlike teenage girl what exactly that young girl was doing over there by fence.
Having already seen the child of whom he was speaking, the girl refused to unlock her eyes from his. She solemnly replied, looking straight into his eyes. She was taken from her maw when she was five years old. She new here. Last night, madam asked me to take her upstairs and get her ready for her debut. Her whole body, it was shakin as I applied the pink blush and dull lipstick. I tried to tell her she had to stop those tremors or they were gunna beat on her, but she didn’t seem to hear what I told her.
I took hold a her hand and escorted her to the line up. Several of the customers fought to have her. She was new, pure. Her kind was in high demand round here. Madam knew it too. It doesn’t happen this way much, but madam let them all have at her at once. Ten of them maybe. I sat outside the whole time. We could all hear her cries as they slapped her around her, the screams as they each got their go at her. Madam had me drug her up afterwards. She was pretty bloody, pretty darn messed up. I tried to talk to her, to tell her it would be okay. She just kept on staring away, gone to another place it seemed.
I guess she already gone and lost all her hope because now she over there trying to bury herself in that dirt pile. She done can’t handle the pain no more. She tryin to go on disappearing. I guess we all try to. She just out here makin it happen in the physical.
He stood, perfectly still, the tears pouring down his cheeks, as he realized that this one, this precious little girl, did not have enough time for him to do justice. He could not wait a month, a year, for the go ahead to save the hundreds. This ONE would not make it til then. The ONE needed him today, right now. He was overwhelmed by mercy. As he began striding towards her dirt pile in the corner of the yard, he decided that in this moment, right now, SHE mattered more then the hundreds.
Again I ask, do you know the desperation, the burning and gnawing wretchedness that leads one to truly believe that the brightest alternative to this hell on earth, the easiest way to disappear, to escape from it all, is to bury oneself alive…literally?
This precious little girl, made in the image God, birthed into this world with a divine purpose, plan, hope and future, set apart, beautiful in His eyes, is hurting so much that she sits in a pile of dirt, attempting to bury herself in it. This is when mercy for the ONE matters. Her life matters.
"Before I formed yo in the womb I knew you, before you were born, I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations." -Jer. 1:5
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Wrestling to the Hope
This week has been full of wrestling for me. Wrestling through midterms and a final. Wrestling through relationships. Wresting through God's timing. Wrestling through making connections and networking with new people for the Campaign. Wrestling through the physical pain from a bad fall I took earlier this week. Wrestling through plans for the summer. Wrestling through finding joy in suffering. Wrestling through my role in God's glory. Wrestling through my role in various commitments and positions in minisry. Wrestling through my brokenness for these girls who are enslaved as I write this. Wrestling through my frustrations with the church. Wrestling through a season of loneliness. Wrestling through what is permissible verses profitable. Wrestling through safegaurds in my life. Wrestling through fruit-bearing admist the pain. Wrestling with valnurability and pride. Wrestling with the unexpecteds of life. Wrestling with my flesh, as always. Wrestling, really just fighting, kicking, crying, boxing, gut-punching it out with the Lord.
Usually when I write, I wrestle through my past hurts and heartaches, lessons and truths, which I have aleady walked through and come out of. To me, the entire purpose of wrestling it out on paper is to end with HOPE. Hope in Jesus. The hope which fuels my faith, the hope that enables me to plow through the muck and mire of life. "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." Heb. 1:11
Today, I write in the midst of the muck and mire, yet all the while knowing that through it, though the pain and suffering, through the confusion and chaos, through the wrestling match...the HOPE to which I cling breathes LIFE, as everything else seems to drain it out. So here I am, admist the muck and mire, wrestling it out, yet knowing each step of the way, that wrestling match has already been fought and the victory has already been won...that is the HOPE that I have, the assurance of my salvation. I have HOPE in the wrestling because I know who wins. He already WON! When it hurts, when I want to give up, I remember...He already endured the pain, paid the price, made the sacrafice, won the battle, and the victory is WON!
Exodus 14:14 promises, "The Lord will fight for YOU! You need only to be STILL."
Thank you Jesus. I hope in You.
Usually when I write, I wrestle through my past hurts and heartaches, lessons and truths, which I have aleady walked through and come out of. To me, the entire purpose of wrestling it out on paper is to end with HOPE. Hope in Jesus. The hope which fuels my faith, the hope that enables me to plow through the muck and mire of life. "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." Heb. 1:11
Today, I write in the midst of the muck and mire, yet all the while knowing that through it, though the pain and suffering, through the confusion and chaos, through the wrestling match...the HOPE to which I cling breathes LIFE, as everything else seems to drain it out. So here I am, admist the muck and mire, wrestling it out, yet knowing each step of the way, that wrestling match has already been fought and the victory has already been won...that is the HOPE that I have, the assurance of my salvation. I have HOPE in the wrestling because I know who wins. He already WON! When it hurts, when I want to give up, I remember...He already endured the pain, paid the price, made the sacrafice, won the battle, and the victory is WON!
Exodus 14:14 promises, "The Lord will fight for YOU! You need only to be STILL."
Thank you Jesus. I hope in You.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
That Call
A few nights ago, I got THAT call. You know, the one that comes in the middle of the night, the one that is just not quite right. The one that never bears anything but pain. The one that often becomes the exposition of our worst nightmare…come true.
“Courtney, there’s been an accident.” I hear echo through the speaker plastered to my ear.
My mind is automatically jumping from scenario to scenario, worst case of course. Just a fight mechanism, I perceive, to lighten the impact of the words that are inevitably coming. To ensure it doesn’t sound that bad, in comparison at least…
Well, you’re talking to your mom, so at least she is okay. Is it one of the dogs? How bad could it be?
“What happened mom?” I cry, in an utter desperation to numb the nawing churn as my stomach already begins to take its first summersault. Just tell me, I think. Whatever it is, it will be okay. Really, I’ve been waiting for this moment. Just tell me.
“Courtney, this isn’t your mom.” The voice on the other end strikes back. My heart slips into my chest, quickly, painlessly. Then the utter helplessness invades. The urgency of knowing in conflict with the dread of how that knowledge would turn my world up-side-down.
When my phone rang at 11:30pm, I thought it was a little weird my mom was calling so late. After all, marriage had greatly tamed her previously outlandish lifestyle. Usually she was safely tucked into her bed by promptly 10pm.
Despite the odd timing, when my phone read, incoming call from mom, I never expected it to be anyone but her. I mean, she was always there, always that loud, beautiful, nagging voice on the other end.
“Courtney, this is Missy, your mom’s friend from work.” Since when does she work with someone named Missy? No, I rationalize in my head. I don’t know you. I have never heard your name. You don’t know anything about my mom. Who do you think you are? My inability to see, to control, to know feeds the desperation, the anger, the panic.
“Courtney, your mom has been in a car accident.” My heart drops into my chest. The churning in my stomach speeds up four times over. My mind floods with thoughts, images, questions, pleas. But nothing. Nothing comes out of my mouth.
I try again, but the words forgot how to form. My voice, suddenly lost. I take a few steps forward, leaning some of my weight on the dresser, unsure of how to brace myself for what is to come.
I listen to the frantic voice on the other end, but I don’t hear many of the words spoken to me. At some point, I collapse in a chair at the dining table. My body sinks into it. My mind needed all of its capacity simply to process the single most painful sentence uttered to my ears. Oh how it pierced my ear drums.
“Courtney, your mom was in a car accident.” It plays over and over and over again with gnawing agony. As if someone pressed the replay button in my head. I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to run. I want to hide. I want to disintegrate into this plump red cushion which lends support to my limp flesh. I want to stand, but I cannot. I feel like jelly. Get me away from this feeling! I scream inside. Make it stop. Oh please, Lord, make it stop.
The pleas and promises and negotiations begin.
This feeling of everything being completely out of my control resonates deeper by the second. How could everything I thought I once knew certain, suddenly become so uncertain? How quickly life could shatter before my very eyes. How everything could change in the single second it took me to take a breath in and exhale out. The preciousness of a life.
But then, much like a movie, before the words even became utterable, before the pain seared through to touch the core, I see some words. Like a screen, right in front of me. And across it flow steadily some words. And yet, these are not just any words.
These words have been engraved upon my heart, etched into the corners and crevasses of who I am. The Words of Jesus. I see them play before me on this movie screen, streaming past letter by letter, slowly making a sentence, then another, and another.
“LORD, first let me go and bury my father.”
Jesus: “Let the dead bury their own dead, but YOU go and proclaim the Kingdom of God.”
“I will follow you LORD, but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.”
Jesus: “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the Kingdom of God.” -Luke 9:57-62
As I simmer in the unfathomable panic and invasive pain, I wonder…Is Jesus really enough?
Have I truly counted the cost?
Do I understand what these words mean?
Do I believe it enough to live it out?
In this dark moment of my life, will my life measure up to the call of the Gospel of Jesus Christ?
My mom was pretty beat up from the accident but is now safe and sound, resting at home. She is still in some pain from the injuries to her chest, leg, and face but praise God it was not worse. I write this more so to share the painful battle of coming to that point of total surrender to Christ. I needed this time to really wrestle it out in my thoughts…to confess before my readers and my Father that HE REALLY IS ENOUGH FOR ME. To challenge and encourage, to question and provoke the reality each of us is faced with in coming to terms with what we truly believe and how that is displayed in our lives. I don’t have all the answers…I’m on this journey too, just wrestling through it. My heart is overflowing with love for the only One who gives me life, abundant life.
“Courtney, there’s been an accident.” I hear echo through the speaker plastered to my ear.
My mind is automatically jumping from scenario to scenario, worst case of course. Just a fight mechanism, I perceive, to lighten the impact of the words that are inevitably coming. To ensure it doesn’t sound that bad, in comparison at least…
Well, you’re talking to your mom, so at least she is okay. Is it one of the dogs? How bad could it be?
“What happened mom?” I cry, in an utter desperation to numb the nawing churn as my stomach already begins to take its first summersault. Just tell me, I think. Whatever it is, it will be okay. Really, I’ve been waiting for this moment. Just tell me.
“Courtney, this isn’t your mom.” The voice on the other end strikes back. My heart slips into my chest, quickly, painlessly. Then the utter helplessness invades. The urgency of knowing in conflict with the dread of how that knowledge would turn my world up-side-down.
When my phone rang at 11:30pm, I thought it was a little weird my mom was calling so late. After all, marriage had greatly tamed her previously outlandish lifestyle. Usually she was safely tucked into her bed by promptly 10pm.
Despite the odd timing, when my phone read, incoming call from mom, I never expected it to be anyone but her. I mean, she was always there, always that loud, beautiful, nagging voice on the other end.
“Courtney, this is Missy, your mom’s friend from work.” Since when does she work with someone named Missy? No, I rationalize in my head. I don’t know you. I have never heard your name. You don’t know anything about my mom. Who do you think you are? My inability to see, to control, to know feeds the desperation, the anger, the panic.
“Courtney, your mom has been in a car accident.” My heart drops into my chest. The churning in my stomach speeds up four times over. My mind floods with thoughts, images, questions, pleas. But nothing. Nothing comes out of my mouth.
I try again, but the words forgot how to form. My voice, suddenly lost. I take a few steps forward, leaning some of my weight on the dresser, unsure of how to brace myself for what is to come.
I listen to the frantic voice on the other end, but I don’t hear many of the words spoken to me. At some point, I collapse in a chair at the dining table. My body sinks into it. My mind needed all of its capacity simply to process the single most painful sentence uttered to my ears. Oh how it pierced my ear drums.
“Courtney, your mom was in a car accident.” It plays over and over and over again with gnawing agony. As if someone pressed the replay button in my head. I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to run. I want to hide. I want to disintegrate into this plump red cushion which lends support to my limp flesh. I want to stand, but I cannot. I feel like jelly. Get me away from this feeling! I scream inside. Make it stop. Oh please, Lord, make it stop.
The pleas and promises and negotiations begin.
This feeling of everything being completely out of my control resonates deeper by the second. How could everything I thought I once knew certain, suddenly become so uncertain? How quickly life could shatter before my very eyes. How everything could change in the single second it took me to take a breath in and exhale out. The preciousness of a life.
But then, much like a movie, before the words even became utterable, before the pain seared through to touch the core, I see some words. Like a screen, right in front of me. And across it flow steadily some words. And yet, these are not just any words.
These words have been engraved upon my heart, etched into the corners and crevasses of who I am. The Words of Jesus. I see them play before me on this movie screen, streaming past letter by letter, slowly making a sentence, then another, and another.
“LORD, first let me go and bury my father.”
Jesus: “Let the dead bury their own dead, but YOU go and proclaim the Kingdom of God.”
“I will follow you LORD, but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.”
Jesus: “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the Kingdom of God.” -Luke 9:57-62
As I simmer in the unfathomable panic and invasive pain, I wonder…Is Jesus really enough?
Have I truly counted the cost?
Do I understand what these words mean?
Do I believe it enough to live it out?
In this dark moment of my life, will my life measure up to the call of the Gospel of Jesus Christ?
My mom was pretty beat up from the accident but is now safe and sound, resting at home. She is still in some pain from the injuries to her chest, leg, and face but praise God it was not worse. I write this more so to share the painful battle of coming to that point of total surrender to Christ. I needed this time to really wrestle it out in my thoughts…to confess before my readers and my Father that HE REALLY IS ENOUGH FOR ME. To challenge and encourage, to question and provoke the reality each of us is faced with in coming to terms with what we truly believe and how that is displayed in our lives. I don’t have all the answers…I’m on this journey too, just wrestling through it. My heart is overflowing with love for the only One who gives me life, abundant life.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
New Blog
Okay so my new blog is officially up and running...it's definately not complete and in the beginning stages, so check back for updates soon to come. I will still blog most things on this one, but anything related to or pertaining to trafficking or this campaign can be found on the new one.
http://fightingsextrafficking.blogspot.com/
I am excited to see as God moves me into a new season of life and watch as He continues to break hearts for these precious young women and children enslaved to human trafficking.
http://fightingsextrafficking.blogspot.com/
I am excited to see as God moves me into a new season of life and watch as He continues to break hearts for these precious young women and children enslaved to human trafficking.
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