What He's Always About

Oh my goodness, where on earth did my week go? Seriously? Did I just tell you to hold on for

the next part of my story and then completely not find an ounce of time to write it down? I did, I did. Forgive me and move on.

O.K., so...when Lara and I talked about going to Houston for the shindiggy, she said she had friends who lived not far from there and that I would absolutely love them and that we could stay with them when we weren't at the conference. If you know me and my extroverted self, it's a dream to walk into the home of complete strangers and get to hang out and make new friends (Hi Darren and Amanda!). I love, love, love it. Lara, who flew into a different airport on the opposite side of town, let me know that she and Amanda wouldn't be able to pick me up in time, but they were sending someone else for me (Hi Deborah!). Double bonus! Now I get to ride in a car for an hour with a complete stranger. Needless to say, me and Deborah were the best of friends by the time I got to my destination.

On the way, it hit me that I had NO idea where in Houston I was or where I was going. So in between Deborah and I catching up on life and careers and kids and the adventurous weekend to come, I said, "Where are we going anyway?" Deborah said that we were headed to Katy, Texas, a west Houston suburb. I was like, "No way! I just reconnected with a friend from college on Facebook and I think she lives in Katy! That's crazy!" Then I proceeded to tell her how Nicole Francis and I began a relationship my freshman year of college and how she had begun asking questions about God and we started studying the Bible and praying together. Eventually, I baptized her in the deep end (funny!) of our university's pool and life and school took us on separate paths and we lost touch. And how funny that now I'm going to be staying in the same Houston suburb as her.

Oh, you wait. It gets better.

So after the conference, I call sweet Nicole to see if we can get together the next day (Sunday). She suggested accompanying me to Darren and Amanda's church and reminded me how back in November she had had a dream that we went to church together again someday. I was totally psyched about seeing her again and suggested that we meet up at Starbucks to catch up before church. Well, the girl walks in to Starbucks not having aged a day in the fifteen+ years since I've seen her (not fair!) And we begin talking and she says, "Do the people you're staying with have a little girl named Caroline?"

Yes, why yes they do.

"Is this her?" and she holds up a picture of her daughter, Phoebe, with Amanda's daughter, Caroline.

Are you kidding me?!

Here the two little girls had become the best of friends in a dance class but Caroline had stopped going and they weren't sure how to reconnect. Amanda about peed her pants when I walked in to church with Nicole. And I about peed my pants when I saw what God could do to reunite so many hearts in an area with a population of more than 5.5 million people. You mean that of all the people I could have gone to this conference with, God chooses my friend Lara who happens to know people in Houston, who happen to live in the same town as someone else I know and who happens to have their daughter in the same dance class as that friend?

IS HE RIDICULOUS OR WHAT?

And that's when I learned what He's all about. He's all about things that are eternal. Things that last. Things that matter. I can sit under great teachers and I can have fun experiences and I can get presidential suites and I can laugh until my eyeballs fall out, but even among those experiences, God will still be working behind the scenes and guiding my heart and my life toward His will. Because it matters. And everything that comes in contact with it matters. Relationships matter. People matter. Decisions matter. Character matters. Eternal things matter.

Ecclesiastes 3 says that, "He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end." I can truly not fathom from beginning to end what God did in orchestrating a meeting between me and Nicole. I do know this though: if God says that He has set eternity in my heart, it's because it was in His heart first.

Nicole and I are so thankful to have been able to rekindle our friendship live and in person. It was a gift to sit and catch up with her that day. I am sure that Nicole and Amanda will enjoy the new found friendship that they have. And beyond that, I am quite hopeful that two little girls whose hearts first became connected at a dance class will develop a friendship that leads them together toward the most important Relationship of all. Because He's always about eternity even in the midst of presidential suites and tutus.

Two Women, a Crazy Video, Tons of Laughs, and One Very Delight-Filled Bethcation

I'm back from an absolutely crazy, fun time in Houston for the Siesta Scripture Memory Team Celebration (see previous post) and, oh my goodness, the biggest thing I have to report is that God is IN the details. He's IN them. In. Them. All up in them. Nose stuck in them. Messing around in them. Can't get enough of them. IN THEM. I'll do my best to recount the weekend and will leave out the details that will either embarrass or incriminate me or my dear friend, Lara. You know I'm kidding. Mostly. ;)

Can you stand reading a blog post this long? Oh my, you can. You really, really can. I promise it will be worth it.

Our Friday in Houston began with much laziness as we slept in and stayed in our warm, fuzzy pajamas until well past noon. As a mom of three small children, can I just say that the last time I did that was long about 2001? Seriously. I ate it up. I could hardly get off the couch. I checked email (Hi, Jess!), Lara watched "Sleepless in Seattle" for the 3,459,889th time, and our friend chided and encouraged us to live up our little "Bethcation" as it came to be called. And we did.

Lara and I headed to the event about 3:30 so that we could find where we were going, grab a bite to eat, and get in line in plenty of time to get a good seat for the evening's festivities. We found Houston's First Baptist Church without any trouble and also passed Houston's Second Baptist Church. (As an aside, not being a Baptist, I found that the most intriguing thing. Is there like a Fourteenth Baptist somewhere? Did they just run out of creative names? Is it a requirement that it have a number? I know not.) Anyway, we confirm the entrance and the parking area for the event, feel confident about our location and are heading out to go find food when who do we pass in her car arriving for the event but Beth Moore herself in all of her cuteness. Well, we supposed we were in the right place now.

After forty-five minutes of driving around and around and around and getting lost, loster, and lostest, we finally find a Subway, grab some food and head to the church to get in line for the event. If you have ever been to a Beth Moore event, you know that people are there early. Like hours early. And when the doors open, all lady-like inhibitions are gone and they run to the front like my four year-old runs toward a bag of M&Ms. It's the funnest thing you've ever seen. And I might say it's even a little crazy if I weren't one of them. So, no, it's not crazy. Not cuh-razy at all. (Denial...) Most of us are just dying for a word. But not so much a word from Beth. From God. And we want to be right up front to hear it.

Lara and I manage to get great seats for the Friday night festivities and have our voices ready to worship and our pens and notebooks ready to learn. The 507 women in attendance had read on the LPM blog to wear pink boas so that we could identify one another in the airport, restaurants, hotels, etc., and so the room was aflutter with stray, flamingo-colored feathers floating through the air. Fun! Soooo fun!

Our Siesta Mama (Beth's blog moniker) began her conference-long teaching on Psalm 119. Did you know that it has 176 verses? That it's a Hebrew alphabetical acrostic written in 22 sections of 8 and each verse in a section begins with the corresponding letter of the alphabet? That it includes 70 prayer requests? That it uses 8 different Hebrew words to describe how God reveals Himself and His will? That those words appear in 173 of the 176 verses? That it's a reflection of exactly what our life with God is like: up, down, up, further down, up, further up, down, down, up? Me either?! And, thus begins, God talking to me about details. Little details. Big details. He is in the details.

After the session wound down, we were served some delicious Texas Sheetcake (oh so good!) and were mingling when we noticed that a loooooong line was forming because Beth was doing a meet-and-greet with her blog sisters. We had both hoped for the opportunity to thank Beth for what she's meant to us and how she's invested in us so Lara and I hop in the line but are probably 150 people back and know that there is no earthly way we are going to get to talk to her and get a photo before she has to leave. Lara is gravely disappointed. And it is definitely a bummer. But, oh well, because we got what we came for: God and His teachings.

After things wound down on Friday night, Lara and I headed out to grab something to eat at Red Robin and go over our notes from the night and talk through what God had taught us. Did we need to eat? Um, probably not. But something about getting to dine without having to cut up anyone's food drew me in and I just couldn't help myself. We talked in depth about Psalm 119:105 that says,

"Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path."

We talked about how when God is leading us and showing us His will, He doesn't throw on a floodlight so that we can see hundreds of steps down the journey, but, instead, holds a little lantern and shows us the very next step to take. Lara and I both lamented and shared our frustration with one another about how we feel like our lamp is having a little bit of an illumination problem and just won't light up the next step. We dug deeper into our notes and into the Word to see what was going on. I opened up the new journal that my husband, Kevin, gave to me especially for the weekend, and he had Holy Spirit-inspired inscribed that same verse, Psalm 119:105, on the very first page. I could hardly stand it. God was all over those details. All over them.

At about 11:30, Lara and I headed to the ridiculously beautiful hotel to settle down for the evening. On the way, she read in the email that she received from Living Proof that they would be hosting a hospitality suite for all of the ladies staying at our hotel. We were kicking ourselves the whole way for wasting our time at the Red Robin when we could have been at the Omni living it up and loving on our fellow "siestas". Drat, drat, drat. We check in at the front desk, and, after what was an abnormal amount of time and disappearances into the back room by the receptionist, we get our keys and head to our room.

As we are going down the hall, I am recounting a story to Lara about how my friend Shannon and I were at a women's conference one time and when we checked into our room, there was a man sleeping in the bed. Awkward! I no sooner slide me and Lara's key through the door, swing it wide open, and, you guessed it...it is someone else's room and there is all of his/her stuff just waiting to be pillaged by us. No joke. We slowly and quietly backed out (if you know Lara and I we do nothing slowly nor quietly so that part is a lie) and went to use the hall phone to clear up the mistake. On the way, we hear joy-filled female voices and laughter and fun coming from the penthouse suite and are assuming this must be the hospitality suite that we had missed out on. I let the front desk know of our dilemma and told them we'd hang out in the hospitality suite until they could figure out the mix-up.

Lara and I walked into the palatial hospitality suite adorned with ornate mirrors, a marble fireplace, a humungo dining table for eight lit up with a gorgeous chandlier, an inlaid chess table, wingback chairs, curtains that looked like they were straight from "Gone With the Wind", and a balcony overlooking the beautiful pool and the Houston skyline. We could not imagine anywhere more wonderful to sit and get to know some of our dear, precious Scripture-memorizing sisters including Beth's daughter Amanda, a mother of two sweet young ones herself.

The eight or so of us pulled up some chairs to get to know one another better when one of the gals in the circle ask how we knew each other. Lara and I shared that we had been acquaintances for some time but had really become friends at last year's pastor's wives conference in Nashville. Then comes the inevitable question with the painful answer for both of us: "So you're pastor's wives?" Well, not anymore. Lara's husband had been summarily fired last year by a lead pastor who decided he just didn't like him anymore :( and well, if you know my story, then you know my story. If you don't, it will likely be a blog post someday when I'm ready so hold on.

Hit pause.

Let me fill you in that earlier in the evening I had texted Kevin to pray for me. I was feeling very weird and insecure because a few weeks ago I had sent Beth a letter with a picture of our family thanking her for how she had unknowingly mentored me and invested in our lives. I told her my story and shared the deepest, darkest moments of it and shared with her where and how God was receiving the glory. All of a sudden as the conference was beginning, I felt this wave of shame and fear and insecurity (not feelings that are my norm) come over me about that letter and was thinking, "Oh crud, what if Beth recognizes me? I'm so embarrassed!" Definitely not from God. Kevin texted me back and instructed me not to let Satan steal an ounce of my joy or confidence and if there was anyone who would not judge me, it would be Beth Moore.

O.K., un-pause. Back to the presidential suite.

Lara briefly shared her story omitting the gory and painful details, not wanting to suck the life out of a fun party. The entire time she was talking I was praying, "O God, please don't let me be the one who sucks the life out of this party. Do you really want me to share my story here? Really? Remember how I was embarrassed before? Well, now I've got Beth's daughter sitting right next to me. Seriously?! If you want this, let someone ask me. If not, I will keep my mouth closed. Whatever brings You glory." I know sooner breathed that prayer and the dear girl across from me (Hi, Michelle!) says, "So why aren't you in ministry anymore?" O.K., God. I get it. You are in the details. Even the hard, painful ones. The ones I wish you weren't in. You are in them. You are after glory. In every last detail.

I finish my story and felt loved and encouraged by these dear ladies when we hear a knock on the door. We couldn't have imagined what was about to make it's way to us. In walked an imposing and official looking gentleman who asked for Lara and apologized for the mix-up with our room. He then said, "This is now your room. You are the new mistresses of this suite." ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! We squealed with delight as do all the others ladies with us and marveled at God's goodness after the stories we just told. Amanda declared that this was just God's favor on us and she couldn't imagine two women more deserving in that moment. We sure could, but we would take it!

Mr. Wonderful Hotel Gentleman then goes to open the adjoining room which is now our bedroom. All of us girls were thrilled to take a tour and check out our luxurious accommodations that the hotel had comped to us because of the mix-up (it rents for $2800 per night) and we were just beside ourselves checking out all of our flat-screens, our bidet, our multiple living areas, and our suite in all of its palatial-ness. There is just nothing you can do in a moment like that but say thanks to God for His kindness, His goodness, and now His sweetness (no pun intended.) He really didn't have to. But He did. He is in the details. He knew how happy Lara would be over the light in the closet that turned itself on. He knew how thrilled I would be to just stare in awe over the Houston skyline. I'm quite sure He laughed at my wonder over a shower so big that I could stand at one end and never have the water touch me. I know for sure He giggled and shook His head when I jokingly said, "Lara, take my picture using the bidet!" (which she didn't, by the way) He knew how much we needed this rest. This respite. This moment of feeling loved. Doted on. Precious. He just knew.

After some pictures, most of the ladies headed out but Michelle and Lisa stayed behind to encourage and love on us. (Thanks, new friends.) It turns out that Michelle's family is moving to San Antonio this week to start the adventure known as church-planting. How thrilled I was to return the gift of encouragement to her about my five years as a church-planting wife and promised to hook her up with some of the best cp wives I know. You see, God cares about the details of Michelle's life too. He was intentional about connecting her to someone who knew where she was headed. Who could encourage and cheer her on. Who knows how it feels to move your family like Abram and Sarah and think, "What on earth are we doing? We must be nuts!" Gosh, I just think He's the best for how He is so involved with us. He is not a far away God. He just doesn't know how to be.

Soon Michelle and Lisa left and apparently me and Lara's dignity left with them. We started hooting and hollering about our new palace like we were the Clampetts in Hollywood. I couldn't stop singing the Jefferson's theme song and Lara couldn't stop laughing as she recounted our story to her husband Rob. At about two a.m., we decided to make a video of our experience which you can view below. Try not to pee your pants. And try not to judge our spiritual maturity by this video. We just couldn't help ourselves.

We awoke the next morning with very little sleep (O.K., so I slept for maybe an hour if I'm lucky because even though you let a Clampett in a presidential suite, she stills snores. Love you, sister...) Were it not for our love for our Scripture-memorizing "siestas" and our "Siesta Mama", Lara and I are quite sure we would have hung around that suite all the day long! Alas, we headed to the church for the last of our teaching times and were excited about what was ahead. God proved to once again be right up in our business and spoke some of His great truths to us. We were blessed. We were changed. We were humbled.

Then came my favorite part of the weekend: we were released to go and say all of our memorized Scriptures to our partner. You canNOT imagine what it sounds like to hear 500 women reciting upwards of 20 Scriptures that they memorized throughout the last year all at the same time. One would think it was chaotic. One would think it was loud. One would think it was frenzied. It was not. It was beautiful. It was melodic. It was one of the most amazing sounds I've ever heard in my thirty-six years of life. I could not have loved it more. I can't even imagine how God felt about it.

Afterward, we headed back into the church for our farewell, send off, and commissioning from Beth and her daughters, Amanda and Melissa. It was just what we needed to hear. We worshipped, we cried, we knew that God could not have been any more in the details of our weekend. He had given us times of refreshing, times of revelation, times of rebirth, times of renewal. We were leaving way better than we came. We were thankful. So very thankful. Our hearts were full. It was time to go.

As we left, Lara was working through some of the things God was speaking to her heart and I suggested we have a seat in the church lobby. We talked and listened and shared and cried when all of a sudden there was a commotion behind Lara who was, at first, completely oblivious to it. I could see that it was Beth who had come out after a good portion of the women had left and was snapping photos with everyone. As any good and godly friend would do, I let Lara finish her story and didn't interrupt her for one second to get that prized photo-op. Are you kidding me? Ummm, no. The godliest of friends says: "Lara, hit pause on your story. Beth is standing right behind you and this is your chance to get that picture you wanted. So pull your sweet self together." :)

We got our pics taken with Bethie who was breezing down the line trying to love on as many of us as she could (I'll upload mine as soon as I can find the cord for my camera. Can I just say that it's clear that my hair had succumbed to the Houston humidity though I do believe it was God's way of keeping me humble b/c two minutes later I took another photo with some friends and my hair was fine. Alas, I am not sure Houston could be my permanent home because of this...) And we marveled at how God just thought this would be a sweet ending to our weekend. It was then that I shared with Lara what I believe were God's words coming through me to her heart and mine reflecting on all of the sweetness of the weekend mingled with the pain of the last year of our lives,

"Lara, God is saying to us, 'Girls, if I can do amazing things with all of these little inconsequential details that really do not have an impact in the grand scheme of life, can you imagine what I can do with the things in your lives that really matter?"

Oh so true. God takes such joy in interacting with us. Such joy in intersecting His purposes with our lives. Such joy in bringing us delight by orchestrating the littlest blessings in our lives. Can you imagine the joy He gets when we submit to the kingdom-impacting things that He brings into our lives? When we give up our own will and our own agenda to participate with Him in things that change lives, not to mention eternities? The heavenlies have to be astir in those moments. And with the psalmist, I echo the words from that now-imprinted-on-my-heart psalm with the 176 verses, these words from verse 130:

"The unfolding of your words gives light; it gives understanding to the simple."

Lord, I truly can't imagine two more simple women to have shared this weekend together. And I truly couldn't imagine two more thankful women who are grateful that you are in the details, big and small, and that you desire to unfold your words and give us light for our path. As Travis Cottrell said early in the weekend, "May the enthusiasm of our worship reflect the gratefulness of our hearts." Thank you. Thank you so, so much. We are truly grateful.

And if you think God is not in the details, you are not even going to BELIEVE my next blog post where I tell you about a reunion that was 20 years in the making and also how I scored my SECOND presidential suite of the weekend. You just won't be able to even stand how amazing He is so get ready.

P.S. The file is too big to post here so here's a link to it on my Facebook page. Enjoy!

Her Real Name is Wanda

So today I'm in Houston, Texas, (I feel like I'm supposed to insert something like, "Hook 'em, Horns!" here but I have no idea what that means) for an amazing conference with my all-time favorite Bible teacher, one Beth Moore, and one of my all-time favorite people, one Lara Harris. Lara and I are avid readers of Beth's blog and took on the challenge she gave last January to memorize a new verse of Scripture every two weeks for the whole year. This weekend's celebration in Houston is the reward that Beth gave to everyone who made it through the year without giving up. Throughout the weekend, we have to recite our verses to our partner, we get to celebrate what God has done in our lives this last year, and we will be privileged to have God fill us up with His Word through our favorite teacher.

I am so psyched, you see, because Beth and I go waaaay back (O.K., so six years) when my mentor and I together read my first of her studies. Ever since then I've been hooked. Beth has walked with me through some of the best and worst days of my life. She has poured into me like so few others have. She has always had the right word from God at the right time in my life. She is wise, passionate, spirited, and gifted. She loves Jesus more than anything. She's a wife to Keith, a mother to Amanda and Melissa, and a grandmother to sweet Jackson and Little Annabeth. She has lost her own mother. She has been a victim of sexual abuse. She drives an SUV. She loves Mexican. She adores her dogs, Geli and Starr. And she just made her way through some pretty serious surgery.

Have I mentioned that I've never really met Beth Moore? Now mind you, the woman has been there as many of my tears have fallen upon the pages of her books, and I've been there to hear about many of her crazy antics and funny quirks, and I've even seen her live a couple times. But we've never actually met. (Let's hope this weekend changes that before the FBI adds me to their Most Wanted List for being a major stalker.) Seriously though, why do I know all these things about Beth Moore? Because she's real. And authentic. She shares her life openly; the good, the bad, and the ugly. She's honest about her shortcomings and her need for a Savior. She knows who she would be without Him. And she strives daily to know Him deeper so that she never has to know that place again.

I want to be the kind of person who is authentic. Who others feel like they know and are safe with right from the start. I want people to know that I love God's Word more than anything. That I adore that Richard Simmons. That I can't turn down a bag of peanut M&Ms. That I struggle with pride. That I eat when I'm not hungry. That I mess up. A lot. That I know who I am without Him. And that I desperately need Jesus to survive each day.

So, Auntie Beth, here I come! I'm bringing everything I've got this weekend to join you in worshipping the One who was the most authentic person to ever walk the planet. The All-Powerful One who took on human flesh. The One who spit in mud and made the blind see. The One who lifted the chin of a woman too ashamed to look up. The One who laughed and loved and raged and cried. The One who I hope to be accused of stalking one day.

Did I mention her real name is Wanda Beth? O.K., I might need an intervention.

Derailed

My blog train had finally pulled into the station. It was fueled and ready to roll. It was steaming down the tracks. And then a sniffling, sneezing, coughing, stuffy-headed blonde girl derailed it. I had the best intention of blogging for today. Even knew what I was going to write about. And then a dear, sick, little girl who looks exactly like me had me awake for 2-3 hours last night because she couldn't stop coughing and the rest is history.

Isn't that how life is though? Don't we think that we have plans? I know I sure do. I planned to one day become a foreign service officer. Didn't happen. I planned to become a successful politician who changed how things were done in D.C. Nope, haven't heard my name spoken in the Senate chamber lately. I planned to have four children but found out that one's heart stopped beating before it made its way into the world. I planned to be a successful church-planting wife who could mentor and encourage others. I'm no longer in ministry. I planned to be the most organized homeschooling mother ever. Some days I barely keep my head above water and we're only doing second grade. I planned to sell my house and move to Las Vegas. The house sold two months ago, and I'm still sitting here waiting to go. I planned for life to be easy. I found out that it's not. In fact, it's very, very hard.

Sometimes in my darkest moments, I have lamented alongside Job when he says, "My days have passed, my plans are shattered, and so are the desires of my heart." (Job 17:10) I have had my plans shattered. From sick babies to careers to relationships to my fairytale-like existence. My plans are scattered all over the floor in a million tiny, little pieces with no hope for resurrection under my own power. But when I get up off the floor from trying to reassemble my itty-bitty, teeny-tiny, little plans and I look deeper into God's Word and I realize that I don't really want my plans. I want the plans of the One who writes,

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.'"

Oh, dear God, allow me to relinquish control of these plans I thought I had. Teach me how to avoid the foolishness of making plans apart from You. Let me seek Your heart - the heart that wants me to prosper and wants no harm for me, the heart that gives me hope and a future - with all I have. Listen to me, God. Be found by me. And while You're at it, derail every last plan I have. Thank you in advance for what You've got planned. My heart trusts Yours that it's going to be amazing.

Before We Begin...

Well, here I am: an official blogger. Only a good ten years late on that little trend. After months and months of contemplation and the encouragement of many (interpret: procrastination), I've decided to start this new journey with the written word. Why on earth people care what I have to say is beyond me, but I'm constantly giving complete editorials on numerous topics in my head so it probably is best if I get them out on paper (or screen, rather) so that I can save my poor children from my rants. They'll thank you for reading one day.

Before you jump into this relationship with me, I thought maybe I should divulge a few things to you so that you know what you're getting into:

*I won't write with a pen that doesn't have a cap. I just can't. It's like it throws my hand off balance or something. Maybe even the world. If a pen is missing a cap, it goes directly to the garbage. I'm sorry, little pen.

*I alphabetize my spices. How am I supposed to know if I have marjoram or am just imagining it? What if I buy a jar of cumin and I already had one standing at attention in my cupboard just waiting to be used? Enough said.

*I've been in President Reagan's closet and tried on his clothes when no one was looking. If you are one of my Secret Service friends, could we keep this on the DL? Thanks so much.

*When I was little, my brother would tickle me until I peed my pants. If he tickles me now, I will still pee my pants. My poor, precious children have inherited the trait.

*I heart Richard Simmons. I mean, I really, really love the guy. Once you get past all the sparkly exterior (which I love as well!), you see a guy who genuinely loves people. I just can't get enough of that. Bring on the Disco Sweat!

*I don't have all the answers. Sometimes I think I do though. Please have mercy on me in those moments.


And, there you go. I'm sure I'll spill many more things about me that you really didn't need or want to know, but for now, that'll do. Now, you tell me, what do I need to know about you before we start this relationship?