Tell me about where and how you worship…
I broke the last post into two questions. I realized that perhaps I was asking too much in one place. So go to the post below to tell me how you see God moving in this generation. And, in this comment box, I’d love to hear about your church gathering. Home church, Fundamental, Emergent, Emerging, Reformed, Wesleyan Armenian…tell me what’s good about your fellowship. (That’s for Molly. I’m trying to use up all of her descriptions.) If there’s nothing good…then you need to be finding a new fellowship!
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Let me tell you about my local Church body. My husband pastors a Missionary Church in Michigan. We are an evangelical denomination which focuses on a personal relationship with Jesus Christ and living a life of holiness. We are not necessarily denominationally bound, it is just a good fit right now. From a practical perspective, the denomination is dedicated to church planting and world missions. A good percentage of our budget is dedicated to missions. It is a good, good, good group of people….not perfect people, but it is surely a place where I see people seeking God and striving to live out that faith in a real way. I see them reaching out both within the body and without. We are continually challenged to grow, to avoid complacency. The leadership works diligently to equip ALL believers to minister, in whatever way God has gifted them. The moral bar is set quite high, but with forgiveness easily extended and plenty of hands to help the fallen brother. Doctrinally, it is an interesting mix which is mostly left to the discretion of the local pastor. Some of our churches are very much in the Wesleyan Armenian camp, while some out West and in the Southwest are Calvanistic. Our services are mostly traditional, because that is how the body desires to worship.
Your turn!
Where do you see the Church?
We’re busy preparing for Sunday – there’s Worship and Sunday School to teach, and a missionary family will be visiting us for lunch. We’re rather excited, because they have 7 children, just as we do. I think we’ll have a house full!
Italian Beef for sandwiches is simmering on the stove, Amy’s Best Potato Salad in the World is in the fridge…and the cookies will be made tomorrow.
I’ll be finishing up the house in my remaining time, but I had some questions I wanted to ask you….something to think about for the weekend.
What do you think of the Church? How do you think that God is moving Her in this generation? As you look across the broad landscape – not only in America but across the globe – where do you see His hand?
I am a big trend watcher. By that I don’t mean “trendy things,” but rather patterns.
I’ll admit that there are times I can become weary and almost dismayed at the things I see in the Church today. There is everything from immorality in the pulpit to life long Believers who scarcely know who Jesus is to what seems like extreme hatred amongst Believers of differing theological persuasions.
But it strikes me that God isn’t done with the Church in our time. He remains. The Holy Spirit doesn’t pack up His bags and head home. He has a plan for you, for me, for all of us. What do you see Him doing in OUR time?
Helpmeets in Khaki and Camoflauge
Lessons Steve Irwin Style, Part 2 (Part 1 is just below)
I’ve been pondering men and women, and the roles each play within a marriage. You and I both know there are immense amounts of opinions and information available from both sides of the aisle.
Every once in awhile you run across a couple who perfectly complement each other, who beautifully portray the blending that God designed.
I spent time with my sister this past week. She and I live about 16 hours apart, so usually only see each other once a year. She is 8 years my elder.
She’s not had a perfect life – in fact, it has been filled with many painful things. And yet, I really enjoy watching her with her husband. He is an outdoorsman, to say the least. His walls are filled with “he-man” things…stuffed deer heads, geese, arrows carved by his own hand, sportsmanship trophies. He can cook anything Cajun, tan his own Buffalo hide, and made their bed from rough hewn logs. And yet, he cares for my sister tenderly and thoughtfully. If she needs anything – he makes it for her….from food to flower arrangements to a cheese press to etched plates for their anniversary.
And my sister. She is another “can do” soul. She wears camoflage and work boots most of the time – but she plays the piano and hand sewed her own velvet and satin wedding dress. She takes top honors at archery, but never brags. She can outfish most men, but I notice that she makes a point not to. She cooks, crochets, knits, cares for her grandbaby and dotes on her husband. When he cooked for the family this week, I observed that she paid careful attention – bringing him ingredients just as he needed them, grabbing the proper knife before he even asked. She even brought him tea while he chopped…with just the right amount of sugar for a southern boy. She’s his right hand.
But he honors and loves and serves her, too.
My brother in law, Terry, recently came through a frightening time with the skin cancer, Melanoma. He had a stage 4 tumor on his shoulder, and was told by the doctor that he had less than a year to live. We prayed, she stood by his side, and God healed. The melanoma never entered his lymph system and he has been given a reprieve. They are closer than ever, grateful for another chance, for more time. I’m pretty sure they’ve never studied the “way” things are supposed to be between men and women…they just do it. They live as individuals with strong interests; but totally for each other, and together for God.
Not to put too much emphasis on Steve and Terri Irwin – for they are simply humans – but while watching them on 20/20 last night I saw much of the same thing. Terri told how she had her own life before Steve…a wildlife rescue foundation. Her family was in Oregon. Her whole life was there. But when Steve asked her to marry him, she considered it all and said, “yes.” His life became hers. She didn’t shrink back and become less, her life became absolutely engulfed and wrapped up in his. Because of that, her life expanded, increased. She dove right in the mud with him – wore the same khakis and wrestled the same critters. She didn’t take over – but she certainly was his helper. Their relationship was beautiful to watch. She called him “my Prince.”
It was horribly sad to see this woman alone, without her mate. Her grief ran so deep, I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. Those who love much, grieve much. Those who have much to lose, value what they DO have, and mourn it when it is gone.
What I take from this is that our relationships won’t all look the same; and yet, as Christians, they can all be pleasing to God. They can be beautiful and a reflection of His glory whether wearing ruffles and lace or khaki and camoflauge. To be given the opportunity to walk alongside a good man and share his life and to sense his needs and to raise his children and be engulfed in his work is indeed a fulfilling, worthy thing. It is a blessed thing. If you have this, give it your best. Don’t take it for granted.
Wear khaki if necessary.
Lessons, Steve Irwin style
I caught Barbara Walter’s special on Steve Irwin last night, and I’m so glad I watched it. Jeff and I scarcely sit down to watch anything…perhaps a couple of times during the entire summer. But this was really good.
I’d only seen Steve’s show on the Discovery channel once or twice while in hotels; and we rented his full length movie a few years ago. I felt such an immediate appreciation for this guy who lived life with such gusto! Can you even imagine throwing yourself into the mud on top of a crocodile with such abandon? Stroking it’s snout and planting a kiss right on top of it’s warty nostrils? Totally oblivious to mud and muck and discomfort?
The man lived life. And then some. He was only given 44 years, but he wrung every last bit of life out of every split second. His wife Terri said that Steve had no “five year plan.” If he had a dream, a vision, he threw himself into it with complete and utter passion. “He was hard to keep up with sometimes,” she said.
If only I could tackle my laundry with the same passion. Roll in it, delight in it…give it a big ol’ loving kiss.
Or better yet – my husband, my children.
I have endeavored for some time to pare down the extraneous things of life. I am painfully aware that man is allotted only a certain amount of days…and each moment that passes means I have less time on this earth. Each activity is held up to scrutiny…”Is THIS how I want to spend my time?” For this reason I despise pointless meetings, worthless television shows, and fluffy books. I want the meat, the kernal, the core. I attempt to arrange my kitchen, my laundry area, my bathroom to save motion and steps – to cut out the time spent on the ephemeral. That’s why the food I cook needs to be nutrient dense - brimming with benefit in every bite. Why waste time on that which does not nourish? Curriculum choices, craft choices, extra clothing…it is all held up to the same lens. If it is worthy, it stays. If not, it is gone.
I have heard thru back channels that Steve Irwin was a Believer. Terri spoke of her Faith last night, as well. While I know that the state of a man’s soul is between him and his Maker – my heart was glad to hear this.
There is something in me that says THIS is how God made us to live…filled to the brim, running over, totally spent and used up to His Glory!
Of headaches and better days
I could pretend for you that all things are well; that I have my act together…that my home runs flawlessly and my floors are always clean. I could tell you that my children are always perfectly behaved and because we eat healthy food we are never sick and always feel great.
That would not be true, however. I have been struggling so much lately. Mostly with these debilitating headaches which bring about shakiness and weakness. (For the record, I have considered food allergies or triggers, but even when eating a hypoallergenic diet I simply can’t avoid them or shake them. ) I’m considering several things…such as chemical sensitivities, environmental allergies, weather patterns…but so far have come up with nothing that helps.
I desire so much to be a faithful servant of God – to praise Him no matter what – in the good days and in the bad. I want to share of His goodness, His mercies, His faithfulness to frail man and woman. I strive to be the best wife and mama and friend that I can, regardless of how I feel. But there are so many times that it seems I fail.
What to do? Get back up, try again, and continually throw myself on the mercy of the One who loves me and who lifts my head and gives me strength. Persevere. Never, never, never give up.
I’m sorry if my posts have seemed rather depressive of late. That is not my intention. I simply long to share this journey with you, to share the life of a real woman who has real struggles…but who knows where her hope and salvation and even joy amidst difficult days comes from.
Thanks for sticking with me, for encouraging me, for sharing these days with me.
In Him,
Holly
My Psalm
Oh God, You are my God -
Even when I cling to you by the barest splinter of a fragmented fingernail.
You remain -
Even when I am ground down to nothing.
Even there – Especially there.
My head hugs the ground in submission,
My heart rises in worship,
My hands stretch and claw and grasp to cling,
to hold on to You for dear LIFE.
You are Water for the parched soul and
Manna for the starved spirit.
God, I am nothing.
You are Everything.
Anudder Announcement (Lame. I know.)
I had another post planned for tonight, as well as some pictures – but weather induced migraines have set in. I can scarcely see straight.
I’ll be away from this here blog for a few days. We’re headed south to celebrate my father’s 82nd birthday. He’s still a quite spry fellow – both mentally and physically. My siblings, who are usually scattered geographically, will be there too. So, we’ll be “roughing it” in a little log cabin and doing plenty of fishing on the side.
We just returned from Minnesota about 3 weeks ago – THAT was over 36 hours of driving. Not fun. Every time the baby fell asleep, the toddler who NEVER sleeps would yell “BABY SLEEPING!” and then, the baby was NOT sleeping.
Take care of yourselves (!) and I will see you in a few days.
Epitaph: She Stinketh at Sidebars…
I do. And I know it.
Have patience with me, please, and forgive my sidebar ignorance. I don’t have time to do much playing around with it…and my son has been too busy as well.
Someday, I’ll get it all figured out. Until then…it remains a disorganized mess. ![]()
Rainy days and pear trees
Remember the early days, how good it felt to wrap your arms around your beloved and hold them so tightly – knowing that you belonged to them and they to you, for good and for keeps? Remember how nice it felt as a newlywed, knowing you would never have to say goodnight and you go to your home while he drove away to his own?
Perhaps it is the cool weather in the air that makes me romantically nostalgic – my sweetheart and I met our first few weeks in college, at the tender ages of 17 and 18. The very, very first night that he walked me back to my dorm I knew that this was the man for me. I coupled my name with his in my girlish mind, and voila’! the man was toast. He was mine. God was simply good. He took a young girl with a heavy, problematic childhood and gave her the certainty of steadfast love in human form.
Rainy fall evenings and pear trees laden with fruit always make me thankful for the path my life has taken. I held his hand first.
God can and does work on our behalf, often even before we are smart enough to know what to ask for… even without a model for courtship or marriage counseling.
Today, while delivering meals, the old Steven Curtis Chapman song was playing on the radio. “I will be here – when the mirror tells us we’re older, you can cry on my shoulder, I will listen, and I will be here, to watch you grow in beauty, to tell you all the things you are to me, I will be here…” I had to turn my head and stifle a sob…because when we listened to the song in college, those days of looking in the mirror and feeling older seemed so far away. Then I smiled, because the words are true. A good man will love you and think you are still beautiful. In fact, he will think you are growing more beautiful with time. I told my husband recently that I thought he was more handsome now than when he was a college kid. I’m not sure he believed me…but it is true. I love those tired eyes with the little crinkles at the sides and the stubble that says, “I’m exhausted from being up in the night with the toddler while you were up with the baby and I don’t have time to shave - but here’s your coffee, honey.”
My little girl was sitting in the second van seat with the baby today, and as I glanced her way I realized that our love story didn’t stop just with us. It grew with one, then two and now all the way to seven young ones. Our family is our love story. It is nine people, holding, clinging, watching, listening, growing – We watch them, and as they grow and mature, so does our collective love. It includes them. It engulfs them. It will never leave them, even when they begin their own love stories and build their own families.
Oh, that they will be so blessed!
Psalm 68:6a “God sets the lonely in families…”
Announcements…what a horrible way to die…
It’s not too late to leave me a note telling me about yourself. Just scroll down….and post away.
Hubby and I have been busy today running all over town (Monday is his day off) picking up birth certificates and changing voter registration, etc. It was lovely, because we only took 4 (!) children with us. My eldest at 14 is finally old enough to babysit.
Tonight we worked together to make meals to take to three families in our church…two new babies and one mama home from the hospital. On the menu – Sour cream meatballs, mashed potatoes, veggie, home made bread and brownies. Sound good? That man ‘o mine makes a mean meatball!

