Pits, Prisons, Burning Bushes

First of all let me say how redonkulous it is trying to type my blogs from a blackberry. I'm going blind!

Second, you could account for their sparsity due to the inconvenience of this machine...or rather, of my life in general. My time has become like our budget, "Like butter, spread over too much bread." In other words, not a lot of wiggle room.

That is, until right now. Our house is 99o/o complete. Since we planned to be moving right now-but can't until several little things happen all at once-we have a pocket of time that had been set aside. So I got to take a creative turn with our worship tonight. And we watched a couple of movies while we folded clothes. Love doing that. It makes the time go by faster. Also took a few extra minutes at school to get a Word from God that was such an encouragement.

Let me share it before my thumbs cramp up.

Exodus 1-3: Moses discovered his identity and calling as the Hebrews' deliverer before he was equipped to fulfill his destiny. When he first tried to step in, it was on his terms, in his power. After his own personal exile, the next time he is reminded of his calling, he responds, "Who am I?". He goes about that work on God's terms.

It is an encouragement to know that those periods of personal development under the cover of annonimity are not wasted years. Having the degree and calling that I have, I have often wrestled with deep sadness when I mistake God's timing for forgetfulness. Or worse, I begin to doubt and cast off that calling altogether.

The next month holds either a burning bush like Moses, or a lateral move from pit to prison, like Joseph, meaning: still not "there" yet, but one step closer as God orchestrates people and times. I don't know what to expect, but I know I am not the person I was when I released this CD eight years ago. At this stage in my life, I can definitely say that what happens from here is all God's doings.

"Who am I?"

Lessons ... learned?

I just spent the last six hoiurs at an outdoor concert. It was great, except for the homemade corndog that's threatening to reassemble in my stomach.

I'm sorry. Too much information? Bad habit.

Anyway, the opening acts were great. I really went for them, because I'm all about new talent, being that I are one. Also, my local Christian radio station plays the same three artists all the time, so I crave fresh music.

Ironically, one of those three rotating artists was the headlining act, Mercy Me. I was prepared to sit begrudgingly through the last hour and people-watch, since I've heard everything they've got a bajillion times.

Now, as experienced artists, surely.they know you're supposed to start a set with a real upbeat number that engages the crowd. Instead, their lead singer and keyboardist came out and started a worship set. Very mellow and worshipful. And not about them, which is what I expected.

So there was my first hmm for the night.

Then later they sang their song, "Jesus, Bring the Rain", before which Bart talked about praising God regardless of one's circumstances. Now, I wasn't immediately convicted. But then I started thinking about the last month. My schedule is packed between school, church, private lessons, building a house, caring for my parents, going through an adoption application, and keeping my marriage and myself happy and healthy. Nothing catastrophic has happened, but nothing has been real easy, either.

So while that song played, I knew I was still working out the lesson of giving thanks and counting difficult times as opportunities to praise. This summer was praising through disaster. This MONTH is about praising through minor annoyances. Guess which is harder!

I know, right?!

So I am riding home, trying to keep my mind off of the corndog -sorry- and on the fact that I want to grow to that point of maturity where I can pray at the moment I am frustrated and give that moment over to God.

But on a church bus at 10pm with shouting teenagers, I've got a ways to go.

In better hands

Today was a bad day to be MY hands. My dear hubby and I put up our new mailbox this morning. It was not easy. Driving the ground mount stake into the ground meant that I had to hold a piece of scrap wood while Joe hammered against it to drive the stake. The scrap was to keep Joe from damaging the post. But every time the mallet struck, my hands were struck with the full force of the blow. I started crying. I couldn't help it. Nothing has hurt that bad since I slipped on icy stairs in TN five years ago. That is the last time I remember crying from physical pain. Then this evening I was removing a pizza from the oven. When I opened the door, I saw a strange light. There was a little electrical fire in the oven, thanks to some old burnt on food that weakened the exposed heating element. The little fire sparked and crept along the element. We doused it with salt. Sparks popped up onto my already tender hands. Joe searched frantically for the breaker switch so we could cut the power. Before we got the power switched off, the fire reached a weak spot and the element exploded! That was freaky-frightening! Finally, we got the power cut. The fire died in the explosion. We now have to add oven repair to the list of things to get done before we start moving on Thursday. And I have a couple of very minor blisters form the day. I'm so glad my life is held in God's hands and not my own.

Here We Go!

I snagged this photo of my great nephew several months ago. This is exactly how I feel right now. We're about to move into our new house. My mother has her count down started for her homecoming. She's been in a nursing facility for over three months now, rehabbing a broken leg - if you were out of the loop on that. We're going to meet our new social worker for our international adoption soon. And I have a big Christmas single release that I am giddy about.

All that being said, I have neglected my little hobby of taking pictures. But I was inspired by some neat photos over at The Pioneer Woman's photography website. I looked around to see what I had that fit the category of her latest assignment.

About the picture - I was on the auto setting with my Canon PowerShot SX100 IS. I didn't crop anything. The frame was sheer dumb luck. I used picnik to edit a little for color and the vignette. And I love it. I want a giant one on my wall in the new house. I love those little fat legs and blue socks.

Stare at it for a while, and remember what it felt like to be that small. Tossed up into the air, knowing there were hands waiting to catch you.

And take a deep breath.

Exhillirating, isn't it?