Responsibilities

The toy bin has been tipped over, it's contents spread across the floor. Dishes pile in the sink. A lone fly has managed to make it's way into our house, buzzing ferociously. I hear the sound of coils creaking under foot. Addy is on the recliner, singing out her abc's to the world, jumping. Jumping for the 10th time in one day. Jumping after being told not to 9 times.
I walk by Jed. His chubby little hands grab a hold of my pant leg. He pulls himself up. He's crying. I change his diaper. Nurse him.

The Mister comes home. He tells me I look good. Then asks what's for dinner and if his clothes are ironed. I roll my eyes, tell him I don't know, and I haven't had time. I'll figure it out. I'll get to it.


Breakfast, bills, baby, breast-feeding, laundry, dishes, "Mom, wipe my butt, please!"

Lunch, phone call, folding, washing, eating, feeding, nap, "Addy, please don't pick up you brother!"

Groceries, girl-time, library, park, project, crayons, church, "Mom, where are we going?"  

Teaching, training, Windex, Pinesol, broom, vacuum, dinner, "How many times have I said don't do that?!"

Baths, bedtime, snuggles, hugs, making love, "I'm not mad. I am just so tired."


Responsibility.

Piled high and a list that reaches the sky.

I live tired. Feeling the weight of the endless list. Wishing for just one moment to be out from under it.

"My yoke is easy and my burden is light."-Jesus
"How does that work exactly???"-Me

I had one of those "light-bulb" "Ah-Ha!" moments. I am pretty sure I read it somewhere (and being that I have been so into Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts, I am 99% sure it came from there. I can't find it though, and it's bugging me... if you know where it is, please, help a girl out!).  I saw the word responsibilities broken apart as response-abilities. It was one of those things that I just wasn't able to shake. It haunted me. Driving, cleaning, writing... it kept going through my mind. My response abilities. My response abilities.

And what does that mean?

Response Abilities.

The ways I am able to respond.

My responsibilities are my response-abilities.

It's a simple idea. A simple change in perspective. It's the realizing that I am loved: vastly, immeasurably, and incomprehensibly.
"For God so loved [Amanda]..." John 3:16
"That [Amanda] would be able to comprehend... what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the Love of Christ which surpasses knowledge..." Ephesians 3:18-19
"That nothing is able to separate [Amanda] from the love of God..." Romans 8:38-39

It's this Great Gift Search I have been on--seeking out all the ways God has lavished on me, seeking this thing called Beauty, and finding it everywhere.
The cowlick crowning my son all-boy... respond.
The full and contagious laugh of my daughter... respond.
The strong and sure jawline of my husband covered in fresh stubble... respond
The rain that adorns the trees in crystal beads right outside the window of my home... respond

I have been given so many responsibilities, response-abilities. My kids. My husband. My family. My friends. My home. The homeless guy on the corner. The children's church classroom. I am able to love God back. I am able to respond.

So does the perspective change anything? Do I have still work to do? Yes. Do I still need to do it? Yes. But God LOVES me. Overwhelmingly and Fully. I have been given SO much... and not so much TO DO, but given so many ways that God has shown His Love for me. And do I not love being told time and again by my husband how much he loves me? And do I not love receiving little gifts as reminders of his love? God does that for me! But I only receive the gifts when I stop and receive them.

I have to slow down, chill out, stop with MY LIST and commune with God. Find His gifts. Thanksgiving. And then, I can go about loving God back. I can respond.
 
"For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out, 'Abba! Father!'" (Romans 8:15).


I am a child of God. Not a slave. I don't live in fear of not getting my list done. I don't have to live tired.

I am loved as God's own precious child.


In the communion, the slowing down and finding the things I have to be thankful for, I find joy in my to-do list. In fact, they cease to be "to-do's" but rather, "I am able's!" Jed, Addy and Handsome are no longer referred to as the vacuums that suck me dry of energy, they are my gifts. I can't help but love them, be patient with them, and smother them all in kisses. I am not empty. I am full of His love. I am able to give.

And God loves a cheerful giver.

I am able to respond.


I love you back, God!

Good Morning! Good Breakfast!: Baked Steel Cut Oats

Today I wanted to share something from the kitchen. This recipe has SO improved our mornings, especially my husband's. He is in an intense schooling program, that is both physically and mentally exhausting. He works full-time and is in school full-time. While breakfast might be the most important meal of the day, he simply doesn't have the time to have a decent one...

Until...

I discovered steel cut oats. (Yep. I said steel cut oats. Keep reading if you want to see how he has time for them in the morning.) They are healthy. They are high in fiber. They are minimally processed. They are a low-glycemic food (which means it takes the body a long time to absorb them, making you feel fuller longer, and giving you energy for longer). They are packed with carbohydrates to jumpstart a morning. They are chewy. (I know, the last item on my list of nutritional benefits doesn't seem to fit. But I do like things to taste good. And the chewier the oatmeal, the better... at least in my mouth).

By the way: feeling any weight from all those crunchy granola, steel-cut-oat women turning their nose up at you, the instant-oat woman. No need to! Steel cut oats are only slightly better for you. Really for me, it comes down to a flavor/texture preference and ... alright, a strange, crunchy-granola tendency to avoid over processed foods. But don't feel bad if you choose to stick to old-fashioned oats, the only extra process is rolling and steaming (and extra cutting if they are instant.) Oats--steel-cut, old fashioned or instant--are ALL so good for you! 

I have always had a thing for baked oatmeal. It's THE BEST way to have oatmeal. YUM-O! I found this recipe and adapted it to suit my family. Baked Oatmeal is SO tasty. I make it on Friday (our closest thing to a weekend at the moment) and serve it up with some eggs, bacon and fresh squeezed OJ. I package up all the leftovers and our little family has 4 days of leftover oatmeal squares that are super easy to reheat and take on the go... just in time for Michael's physically intense weekend.

Baked Steel Cut Oats. (Link will be provided at end of this post as well.)
And bonus for mommies with little ones: Baby Cereal Bars

1: Soak oatmeal overnight in water with tablespoon of plain yogurt, buttermilk, or kefir. This is not absolutely necessary, it's just a really good idea. Grains contains phytic acid, which prevent you from being able to absorb all of the grain's nutrition. Phytic acid also make grains harder to digest. I even read that soaking grains can help a person with a mild gluten allergy be able to eat some different types of grains.Yogurt, buttermilk and kefir all have natural enzymes that neutralize the phytic acid.

2. Drain oats in mesh collander. There is no need to rinse, just get rid of extra water. Put back in bowl.
3. Chop some nuts. I got almonds and pecans going in my concoction... mostly because that's what was available in my stash. (anyone else say AHH-monds and PEE-cans like I do???)

 3. Whisk it, and whisk it good. Whisk together the eggs, milk and maple syrup until nice and frothy. (This made me feel out of shape... my arm kept needing breaks... and by the way it takes less than 2 minutes to get to frothy... yeah, you really need to start working out again, Amanda.) If you can't afford maple syrup or don't feel like going to the store to get it, substitute brown sugar instead... same amount. Though I will say, everyone should make a way for maple syrup every now and again. It's GOOD :)

4. Add egg mixture to oats along with fruit. I have some blueberries and raspberries in this one from my frozen fruits stash. Add cinnamon and canola oil. You could add nuts here too (unless you are making baby cereal bars too), but I just sprinkle mine on top. (They get toasty this way... yummy)
Tip: I always keep at least a bag of frozen blueberries in the freezer. Fruit is a healthy way to make a last minute dessert on the fly without adding too much sugar. Frozen fruit keeps for a really long time in the freezer, and its great to have a last minute dessert/sweetener on hand (pancakes, crepes, crisps... oh my!) Also, if fruit is on special and in season, I buy extra of it, rinse it, and store it in the freezer in freezer bags. Money saved. Happy tummies. Win!

 5. (Optional.) I have a little guy (10 months today!) who will eat just about anything (yep. broccoli, peas, carrots...) so long as he gets to be the one who puts it in his mouth. This has made me have to be creative in how I feed him. Since this has little sugar in it and is minimally processed, I decided to make him his own batch of cereal bars. I just pulled out a little bit, put it in the food processor (to make it easier to eat... he doesn't have many teeth to handle the chewy oats), didn't include the nuts, and put in a little mini bake dish. (Do double check with your baby's pediatrician if you have concerns about whether your baby can have this... My baby can, but all babies are different, the allergen advice keeps changing, and I am no doctor)

 6. Place mixture in oiled pans. Sprinkle nuts on top. Bake in a 375 preheated oven for 20-40 minutes. It's done when a toothpick comes out clean. It's easy to tell when it's done: it will not have any liquid left. I used a 8x8, a 9x9 and a 3" circle (my little circle was done in 20 minutes and my two pans in 30 min. When I made this all in one pan and it was thick, it took 40 min). Side note: I am missing my big pan and have been for years now... I should probably get a new one. Ha!

 Hmmm... Hearty, Healthy, Wholesome, Hungry (alliterations for this creation... I know, I am a nerd)

Serve warm with eggs on a Saturday morning. Important: Drizzle oatmeal with maple syrup or a homemade fruit syrup like this one.)

 Big man approved. Little man approved too.

 For easy breakfast throughout the week: place each square on a piece of foil.

7. Wrap up. Store in fridge. Early each morning, pull out, unwrap (leaving it on the foil), place in toaster oven for 5ish minutes while you are finishing up getting ready for your day, wrap back up in foil, take with you, and eat on the go. So easy! Even my husband can do it! HA!
And in case you are unfamiliar with this math fact: toaster oven > microwave  :)

Husband LOVES his healthy, home-cooked breakfast each morning. I like not having to get up to make it for him.

Baked Steel Cut Oats Recipe

Open Recipe in Google Document for easy printing (Just click link):
Baked Steel Cut Oats

Ingredients:
3 cups Steel Cut Oats
1 TBS plain yogurt, buttermilk, or kefir
½ cup chopped nuts
3 eggs   
1 cup of milk                       
½ cup dried fruit or 1 cup of fresh or frozen fruit
1 TBS cinnamon
2 TBS canola oil
2 TBS maple syrup

Steps:

1. Soak oats overnight. Place oats in large bowl, fill with water till water is an inch over the oats, place a generous tablespoon of plain yogurt in bowl.
2. Preheat oven to 375. Grease pans.
3. Drain oats in colander and place back in bowl.
4. In a separate bowl, whisk together eggs, milk and maple syrup until frothy.
5. Add egg mixture to oats along with fruit, nuts, cinnamon, and oil. Fold until combined.
6. Pour into pans.
7. Bake for 20-40 minutes or until toothpick inserted comes out clean or oatmeal has no liquid on top.
8. Serve with maple syrup. 

  

Baby Oatmeal Bars: 

Prepare just like above, except omit nuts, and place in food processor before putting into baking dish. 

Oatmeal Bars on the go: 

Prepare as above. Cut into individual servings and store each serving wrapped in foil in the fridge. Unwrap and place in 375 toaster oven for 5 minutes before eating (or eat cold).


Some yummy variations:
blueberries and raspberries
can of peaches, drained and cut, and blueberries. Omit cinnamon. Add tsp of vanilla
Sprinkle toasted wheat germ on the top for some nutty nutrition
dried apricots and dried cranberries as Nourishedkitchen.com suggests
your imagination: keep the oats, milk, egg and oil ratios the same and play around with the fruit, seasoning/flavoring, sweetener and nut combinations :)


Hope your Monday is Made!
xo

Amanda

Thankful Thursday #1

Welcome to the very first Thankful Thursday posting ever!

This is a challenge to myself after reading One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. If you have been on my site recently, you've probably noticed... the truth found in that book has changed my life! I can't help but continuously refer back to it. Do check it out! Or if you want to check into some of the truths found in the book right now, check out Ann Voskamp's blog.

More than a list, more than a task to do, more than the next latest and greatest thing in the Christian world... this girl wants to live a full life. This girl wants to have Joy. This girl has found herself feeling exhausted, completely spent, grumpy, and yelling. I so don't want to be that sort of wife or mom. I know that supposedly Christ died so that I might "have life, and life abundantly." But I so am not feeling the abundance.

So, I am stopping throughout my days. Watching. Paying attention. Finding the gifts that God gives, the beauty I am surrounded with, the fleeting preciousness in my small ones. I have started an ongoing conversation with God that is full of gratitude and wonder in stead of "I want.. I need..."

It is changing my life. Slowing me down. When I feel stress build in me and I begin to yell over the dumbest of things, I stop and I look.

Where are you God in this moment?

And I always find Him too.

I caught the truth of this Great Gift Search one night while driving to my in-laws. I was running late. It had been a long day. Jed was especially fussy. Addy was especially obnoxious. I was stressed. And then I saw it. The faintest, tiniest hint of a rainbow just barely peeking it's head out from under the cover of the horizon. I decided to consciously thank God for it. I told Addy about it, but she couldn't see it. So I did something I never do, least of all when I have somewhere I have to be. I stopped. I got Addy out of the car. We looked at the rainbow on the side of that country road. She couldn't spot it, so I grabbed my phone to take a picture of it so I could point out the rainbow right there on the screen. We out loud thanked God for rainbows. I can't put it into words but something in me changed at that moment. Gratitude entered my stress-riden heart. It took worry, disbelief, selfishness, pride, anger off of the saddle and put God back over my heart. Peace and Joy--the beautiful fruit of a life lived trusting God. And Addy still talks about that tiny rainbow that never made it across the sky. Addy found God in that moment too.

It might sound strange, but I have found an overwhelming joy in grabbing my camera and trying to capture Beauty with it. I am not a great photographer. I know very little about what makes a good picture and even less about how to take one. I have a great family camera (Canon Power Shot SX120IS if you are curious), but it is by no means a "professional" camera. This blogging wordsmith could totally grab a pen and paper and write down her gratitude in a journal, but for whatever reason, attempting to angle a shot, pushing the zoom button, adjusting the ISO and shutter speed, is fun, soothing, and gives me Joy. It makes me step outside, step away from dishes, pull over the car, pause and worship with... a camera. Strange. No out-stretched arms or music involved.

But it is worship. And no, not of things, not of the created, but of the Creator. I see Him. I commune with Him. And He feels my tired mother-heart with strength.

I feel like Moses looking up and catching a glimpse of God's walking by. I am a poet-painter and as close as I can get to beholding God, grasping Him in a picture.

When I sit down to edit the pictures, Addy loves to crawl up in my lap and have me explain each picture. Even her 3-year-old heart is hungry for Beauty, hungry to know God. I have loved the chance to tell her about Him.

So, there you have it.

Thankful Thursday.

My chance to stop and frame a glorious God-given moment. (They may not always be pretty for I want to see God in the hard moments too.)

My challenge to allow God to change me. To live a full life.

Here and now.

The gift of a setting sun setting a rain-drenched pine on fire.

The gift raindrops on trees, crystal adornments, garlanding a tree in royal splendor.

The gift of a gnarled tree against a silhouetted Mt. Diablo.

The gift of the sound of a thousand honking geese flying home in the warming weather... and not feeling a drop of poo. (If you read this post you would know why I am thankful for this, lol) (This is just one of at least 30 formations that flew overhead at one time... amazing!)

The gift of that handsome cowlick in the warm sunshine and enough hair to spike it up. (By the way, as a warning this cowlick could be a reoccurring theme. I don't know what it is about a cowlick on a little boy, but I just adore it. Ever time I notice it, I can't help but smother that face in mommy-kisses.)

The gift of already, all-boy mischief at almost 10 months. How quickly he was able to army crawl his way into the bathroom and begin throwing items into the toilet! I wish I could have captured the look on his face when I found him... mischievous, boyish grin. (By the way, just in choosing to see this moment as a gift, it melted the really-now-I-get-to-fish-stuff-out-of-the-toilet-on-top-of-everthing-else-I-have-done moment I could have had. It brought me Joy instead of stress... Peace rather than frustration... all because I was thankful for it.)


Thanks for stopping by Thankful Thursday. If you are doing something similar or want to do something similar (on a blog, putting pictures in a folder on facebook or just writing something down in a journal, do tell me about it in the comments or on my facebook timeline. I would love to be connected with some other people on this life-changing journey)

xo

Crap Happens

True Story:

It had been one of those crazy, stormy days. I have become this wild, hungry God-seeker. I want to see Him, know Him. My tired, mother heart is worn out by the end of the day, but I want to fully live. I have been reading One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp and am taking her up on her challenge to live the fullest life.

Mike took the kids to his parents, and I had the house to myself.

But I had been in this house for 3 days straight, and I am ready to emerge from my tomb. (I am laughing at my bad analogy... no, though some days may feel like it, my home cannot be compared to the tomb where Christ laid). I grab my camera and decide to chase Beauty. Become the modern painter with a digitally-edited, photo-paper canvas. Try to hold Beauty within my lens. Grasp it. Capture it. Even for but a moment.

"'The glory of God is the human being fully alive and the life of the human consists in beholding God.'... Don't I give God most glory when I am fully alive? And am I most fully alive beholding God?"

-Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts

I am behind the steering wheel, making way for vineyards and empty fields that open the world wide to the horizon. The tempestuous storm that had pelted our front door with little hail stones had given way to the most glorious sunset. Gold-lined clouds against a blood-red sky. I chase after this Beauty, desperate. 

I find a spot off the road. Pull-over. Grab my camera. I adjust my settings as I hastily walk toward the vineyard. 

It's cold. The breeze runs through my hair. Soft rain drops dampen my skin. I feel a large, warm rain drop thud against my shoulder and hand.

Wait... Warm?!

Raindrops are not warm. This was definitely not a rain drop.

One brave bird flies off towards the night. I got crapped on.

In the midst of my soul's revery--my wild Beauty hunt--chasing God, I got crapped on by a lone bird on a wire... when all other birds have taken to their storm shelters.

I am disgusted. I want to throw my fist up, angry with God. How could You let this happen? I am here to worship and You let me get pooped on?! Really?

For a split second I stop my rant. In the time it took my heart to beat one time, I try to embrace the gift of that moment. Surely this moment does not contain a gift, but still I try to find it. And in the next heart beat, something even stranger than the gritty waste product on the back of my hand happens: Peels of laughter rip through the anger and inconvenience. I laugh.

I capture one picture and return to the safe haven of my car in search of tissue and Purel. I laugh some more.

Crapped on while capturing Beauty.

I crap-tured beauty. 

I am roaring now. And the laughter feels good. And God is in this moment too. 

I went out seeking Beauty... seeking a full life... seeking to know God... asking for Joy.

I found the beautiful sunset. I also found the lone, human-loathing bird on a wire that would dare to take aim at the innocent God-seeker. 

But still, I found Joy.

I could have allowed the birdy-poo to ruin my evening. I could have tried to find some deep meaning in the warm substance resting on my hand... Why would God allow this? Why would God let me get crapped on when I am trying so hard to be full of Joy? Doesn't He love me? Doesn't He supposedly give good gifts?... Or I could take the gift in the moment and laugh. I laughed with my Creator. I received the Joy in the moment.

Crap Happens.

In this beautiful, God-created world, crap happens... The diaper of the darling baby explodes and leaks onto his poor mama's pants who didn't think to bring a change of clothes for herself... The life-giving, bonding, and waist-trimming experience of breast-feeding can occasionally offer up clogged milk ducts that rack a body with feverish aches (Hi, this is where I am right now!)... temper tantrums from the sweet one, friend turned gossip, great day abruptly halted by the crunching sound of your own car's metal against another car's rear end... crap happens.

I cannot pretend to know the answer to the why.

It is a mystery. And even though I was able to find Joy in bird excrement, I am only just scratching the surface. There are far more crappy things that could happen in a life. I just have this strange sense that God is allowing me learn how to live Joy-Full in spite of circumstances.

Could it be that one could really keep their Joy every day, not just the good ones?

I know it involves trusting God. I know it involves taking each moment, easy or hard, and receiving it as a gift. It's like the manna the Israelites ate in the wilderness. Each day, God miraculously covered the ground in little wafers. It baffled the Israelites:
"God's people daily eat manna--a substance whose name literally means 'What is it?' hungry, they choose to gather up that which is baffling. They fill on that which has no meaning. More than 14,600 days they take their daily nourishment from that which they don't comprehend. They find soul-filling in the inexplicable. 
"They eat the mystery. 
"And the mystery, that which made no sense, is 'like wafers of honey' on the lips" 

 Ann Voskamp, Ten Thousand Gifts

Sometimes life is baffling. Sometimes painful. Sometimes wonderful. Sometimes it's offerings lead us to question God, "What is it? It doesn't make sense!" Our minds can't comprehend how all things can be a gift. But in taking the mystery, eating it, allowing it to nourish, we might just find that somehow it's like wafers of honey. Somehow it's sweet. Somehow it's Joy.

Taste and see that the Lord is Good.

I am not sure what it means. I do not know how to make sense of it all. But I did discover Joy in the most unlikely of places.

Joy in crap.
Imagine that!

xo

Bitter Herbs

I have this thing about symbolism. I love it when something that is super accessible and tangible represents a deep idea. Could be the teacher in me. Or maybe it's the years and years of studying literature... and liking it.

Oh yes, I like it. :)

The Passover Seder fascinates me. Everything... Everything!... symbolizes something.

Reading about it in Exodus and then comparing it with Jesus' final days... I am pretty sure it's like a heaping buffet table and a hungry stomach for a literature lover. It is reeking with symbolism: layers upon layers of God-designed, intricately woven traditions to match the profound spiritual truths and made accessible to simple people like me. Oh my goodness, I love it!

Yesterday, I typed some thoughts about "chametz."

Today, I want to look at just one element from the Seder table: the bitter herbs.

The bitter herbs are called "Maror," which is traditionally horseradish, and the "Chazeret," which is traditionally romaine leaf or some other bitter green. They represent the bitter life of slavery. Since horseradish is powerful enough to cause some tears to roll, it goes so far as to represent the tears that were cried and the painful life the Israelites lived while in Egypt.

The Israelites' redemption from the bonds of slavery can be compared to a being set free from sin and the law of sin and death. So as a Christian, those bitter herbs are a reminder of my former slavery. God actually wants me to look back on occasion and remember the bitter taste of the life I lived prior to my salvation... not to live in shame and condemnation, but to remember how great my freedom is.

 

My Bitter Herbs:

I have this silly little memory of being around 6 and having an adorable, chipmunked-cheeked, bright-eyed little brother who played a game with my mom: "I love you more. No, I love you more"... They played all the way up to infinity times one thousand. It was their special bedtime routine, and I was jealous. I also remember my brother constantly got in trouble for lying. So, one day overcome by some unknown but super carnal need to get my brother in trouble, I took a vase and smashed it on the floor. I told my mom that my brother did it. He swore he didn't do it till he was in tears. But my mom believed me. I felt good, but rotten and terrible and wondering why I would do such a thing and what my mom would think if she knew the truth.

I remember being ten and having my mom pull the homework assignments out of the trashcan that I had wadded tightly and hid at the bottom. They were not done. I didn't feel like doing them. I remember the shame of being lazy, rebellious even. I remember the horrifying feeling of being caught; of having the sin you tried so hard to hide being pulled out of the dark pile of trash, examined, being deemed guilty, and then punished.

I remember the striving to be right, to be good, to impress, to be somebody and the constant disappointment at not measuring up, always getting it wrong, always feeling overlooked, and never quite enough...

I remember being the quiet, shy girl who at 12 was sat down in front of my teacher, was told how disappointed she was, and how she was even considering suspending me. My very first boyfriend had been taken from me by the largest girl in the class, the one who constantly fished for compliments in the girl's bathroom, "I am fat, aren't I?" to which everyone always assured her she wasn't. I let the hurt eat away my quiet, 12-year-old heart until I blurted out one day, "You're right. You're just a fat cow!" The hurt. The shame. The knowing I had never done anything worth being noticed except this one horrifyingly mean act. The knowing that even though I had cried, "Fat!," someone could have yelled at me, "Wiry, skinny, boob-less nobody!"

I remember the seeking out approval from young men, the flirtatiousness, the pleasure at attention... and the bitter taste of a broken heart, the lack of fulfillment because one person's attention was never enough...

the emptiness... the constant wondering if I was enough... trying so hard to not be a nobody, to be noticed, but always that sinking feeling in the back of my mind no matter how much attention I could receive that I was, in fact, a nobody.

I remember the fear... of life, of failure, of never again feeling okay...

I remember the sewing needle, the box cutter, the kitchen knife against my skin... the infliction of pain to somehow release the pain I felt inside... the thoughts of taking my own life... even planning it...



Oh those bitter herbs. The maror producing salty tears on my face.



But I am glad. Thankful. Deeply grateful. I have been set free. And though I am like the complaining Israelites, when life gets hard I sometimes want to go back, pick up my old ways and thoughts... but when I  remember the bitter taste... I can't. I know how great a salvation I have been given.

The Seder doesn't end with bitter herbs. There is the spotless lamb on that table. The bread without leaven that is broken. The wine that is poured out into 4 glasses each representing a promise of God: "I will bring you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians, and I will rid you from their slavery, and I will redeem you with an outstretched arm, and with great judgments. And I will take you to me for a people"

Christ, the spotless lamb whose sinless body was broken and blood poured out so that I could be set free and be called a Child of God. 

I am free. I am not the same. I am forgiven. In Him, I am enough. I have joy. I have peace. I can love, and I am loved. I am a Child of God.

The bitter herbs washed down with Communion.



Wishing you and yours a wonderful Easter.
xo


Oh and by the way, I fact checked and found some additional information about the Seder for this post by reading Exodus 13 and looking here.

Holy Week: "Searching Our Hearts"...For Kids!

Today for our preschool time, Addy and I talked about searching our hearts for things that we need to get rid of. See the previous post.

Since we are on the letter "E," an egg can be used to represent our heart (spiritually), and egg hunts are just downright fun, I made some things that I thought Addy could understand and recognize as things that we need to get out of our hearts and put them in the eggs.

That's the "Preschool Wall" in my Cabinet of Awesome. Click if you want to check out the whole cabinet. I love it!

I just wrote on a super official piece of white paper using an even more official purple crayon, and, of course, that purple crayon was in the hand of a master drawer.  You like my angry face? Ha! Since she's 3, I just came up with 4 things.

I cut them out, folded them up and place one in each egg.

I added an extra egg into our hunt. I wanted one egg to represent having Jesus in your heart. Since having Jesus in your heart is pretty sweet and candy is sweet, I put a candy in one egg.

I hid the eggs.

Addy went out and found them.

Then we gathered them up and talked about our findings.

Sometimes we get bad stuff in our hearts. We need help to not be mean, jealous... We need Jesus to come in and empty our hearts of the bad stuff. Jesus will live in our heart if we ask Him to.

We prayed and asked for help. Mommy prayed for help too.

Simple.

I love teaching Addy about Jesus.

Holy Week: "Spring Cleaning"

It's Holy Week...

I know, no shocking news there.

But it always makes me think of the obvious things: the Triumphal Entry, the Last Supper, the Cross, and the Resurrection...

but especially the Last Supper.

The Passover Meal.

The first Passover marked the deliverance of the Israelites from slavery, from Egypt. They were instructed to pack their bags and eat with their shoes on their feet. They placed the blood of a spotless lamb over their doorposts and ate the lamb. Then the angel of death passed over them and wiped out the first born sons in Egypt.

After that first Passover, the Israelites were instructed to observe the Passover every year as a memorial of what God had done for them. They were instructed in the days leading up to the Passover to rid their homes of "chametz" (leaven). They were to search their home from top to bottom and get rid of anything that could potentially have the presence of leaven. For seven days the Israelites were commanded to not have leaven... no where with in their borders. Then they were to partake in a special meal called the Seder, each bit of the meal reminding them of some part of their time in Egypt. They were to retell the story of the first Passover. They were told to remember. They were told to celebrate. I was curious as to what this looked like today in the Jewish community. If you are curious too, here is a link to an article I read.

Leaven represents sin. Just as the smallest bit of leaven can cause an entire batch of dough to rise, the tiniest bit of impurity can skew the way we think, the way we talk, and the way we live. "Do you not know that a little leaven leavens the whole lump of dough? Clean out the old leaven so that you may be a new lump, just as you are in fact unleavened" (1 Corithians 5: 6-7, NASB). 

In reading up on the Jewish customs for getting rid of "chametz" in preparation for the Passover, I was struck by the thoroughness of the search. Homes are to be "spot-free" from leaven. Not a trace. Do I even have a measure of that fervency in seeking out sin in my life? I realize Jesus gives me Grace that is sufficient to cover my sins and shortcomings. But doesn't He call me to a life of Holiness? (1 Pet. 1:16) I think of John 3:16 and Ephesians 3:18-19 and know that I am loved by God with such a great fervency...especially in the light of the approaching Good Friday. I need to take time to be fervent.

Since it is Spring (spring cleaning) and Holy week this week, I am doing some cleaning in my own heart.

It is long past time to clean out my heart. I need to find the unforgiveness I might hold against another that creeps out when I feel overcome by the urge to share with someone who has no business knowing what kind of wrong was done to me (gossip). I need to find the selfishness that causes a volcano of yelling and snappy words to erupt when people (namely my kids and my husband) don't do what I want them to. I need to find the pride that causes me to think I deserve more... Hmmm... I think I could go on a while... Spring cleaning in this temple is definitely past due!

My Prayers this week:

Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Try me and know my anxious thoughts;
And see if there be any hurtful way in me,
And lead me in the everlasting way. 

                                 -Psalm 139:23-24, NASB

Be gracious to me, O God, according to Your lovingkindness;
According to the greatness of Your compassion blot out my transgressions.
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity
And cleanse me from my sin.
For I know my transgressions,
And my sin is ever before me.
Against You, You only, I have sinned
And done what is evil in Your sight,
So that You are justified when You speak
And blameless when You judge.
Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity,
And in sin my mother conceived me.
Behold, You desire truth in the innermost being,
And in the hidden part You will make me know wisdom.
Purify me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;
Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
Make me to hear joy and gladness,
Let the bones which You have broken rejoice.
Hide Your face from my sins
And blot out all my iniquities.
Create in me a clean heart, O God,
And renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me away from Your presence
And do not take Your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of Your salvation
And sustain me with a willing spirit.
Then I will teach transgressors Your ways,
And sinners will be converted to You.
Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God, the God of my salvation; Then my tongue will joyfully sing of Your righteousness.
O Lord, open my lips,
That my mouth may declare Your praise.
For You do not delight in sacrifice, otherwise I would give it;
You are not pleased with burnt offering.
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;
A broken and a contrite heart, O God, You will not despise. 
                              -Psalm 51:1-17, NASB

By the way, I have some other stuff on my heart to share this Holy Week. So do look forward to more tomorrow.
xo