Didja ever notice that when you ask God for something, He doesn't give it to you directly? If you ask to win the lottery, you get an unexpected raise at work. If you ask for healing, He gives you a new doctor.
Well, I have been praying for guidance to be less judgemental and more patient with people. I am a pretty patient person when it comes to my family, friends and students. My biggest issue is with other drivers.
Now I am by NO means the perfect driver. I have found myself doing stupid things behind the wheel and then thanking God that I didn't hit someone or get into an accident. But when I am driving and other people do stupid things it just chaps my heiney!
So, now that I have that prayer out there..... for patience. I have been encountering more and more annoying drivers. IKNOW that this is God's way of teaching me to be more patient. Or, the devil's way of trying to suck me in.
Lately when I have gotten upset by a driver, I have said out loud, "Oh no you don't! You are not sucking me in."
Sometimes it helps.
I try to remember that I don't know their story. You just never know when the idiot who barely stopped at the stop sign before pulling out in front of you, is actually a mommy who just got a call that her child got hurt and is on her way to comfort him. Or a son who just got the call that his father is being taken to the hospital. Or the daughter who got the news that her daddy is already gone. Or the daddy who is lost in thought about the baby girl he and his wife lost.
Please add me to your prayers. Pray for my humility. Pray that I learn to be more patient with other drivers. Pray that I judge less, and remember that everyone has their own story.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Chapter 2: This, Too?
In this chapter, Nancy Ortberg talks about being grateful for what God has given us. She speaks of the overwhelming feelings we have, and how those feelings are gratitude to God. She gives examples of having a baby, seeing an amazing sight such as the Northern Lights, and watching the sun set on the beach.
She says that everywhere we see goodness, we see God.
My prayer:
Dear God,
Thank you for giving me life. For allowing me to see, hear, taste, touch and smell. For giving me parents who loved me and took care of me, and who raised me to love You. Thank you for all that I have. For Mike, and for Blake. For a church that feels so much like home. Thank you for Lilly, what an honor to know that You chose MY daughter to be with You. Please show her how proud we are. Thank you for making me who I am. Please, continue to mold me. Amen.
She says that everywhere we see goodness, we see God.
My prayer:
Dear God,
Thank you for giving me life. For allowing me to see, hear, taste, touch and smell. For giving me parents who loved me and took care of me, and who raised me to love You. Thank you for all that I have. For Mike, and for Blake. For a church that feels so much like home. Thank you for Lilly, what an honor to know that You chose MY daughter to be with You. Please show her how proud we are. Thank you for making me who I am. Please, continue to mold me. Amen.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Looking for God by Nancy Ortberg
UPDATE: I put the wrong chapter on this one originally. That's what I get for blogging when I'm tired!
The full title of this book is Looking for God: An unexpected journey through tattoos, tofu & pronouns. I am reading it with my Mom's Heart Ministry small group. It was my intent to blog one chapter per week, as I read the book. However, I didn't get the blog up and rolling as quickly as I had planned, so I will post a chapter per day to get caught up.
Chapter 1: The Problem with Quiet Time
In this chapter, Nancy Ortberg talks about growing up learning that setting aside quiet time every day to spend in prayer with God is vitally important. She speaks of the struggles she had when her life became more and more complex and quiet time seemed harder and harder to find. Then she realized that you don't have to MAKE quiet time, you just have to acknowledge it. When you are at the park watching your kids play... quiet time. When you are driving.. quiet time. She says it is in the little things we see day to day... the things that make our "hearts swell with gratitude" that we are seeing God's work.
My prayer after reading this chapter:
Dear God,
I have always felt closer to you when I am outside. Breathing in Your breath... seeing the amazing beauty You have laid before me. I can feel Your arm across my shoulder and Your love in my heart and soul. Of course, you already know all of that. Amen.
I am making a concious effort to notice God's work in my life. To be thankful for what I have. To not dwell on what I don't have, or what I want.
The full title of this book is Looking for God: An unexpected journey through tattoos, tofu & pronouns. I am reading it with my Mom's Heart Ministry small group. It was my intent to blog one chapter per week, as I read the book. However, I didn't get the blog up and rolling as quickly as I had planned, so I will post a chapter per day to get caught up.
Chapter 1: The Problem with Quiet Time
In this chapter, Nancy Ortberg talks about growing up learning that setting aside quiet time every day to spend in prayer with God is vitally important. She speaks of the struggles she had when her life became more and more complex and quiet time seemed harder and harder to find. Then she realized that you don't have to MAKE quiet time, you just have to acknowledge it. When you are at the park watching your kids play... quiet time. When you are driving.. quiet time. She says it is in the little things we see day to day... the things that make our "hearts swell with gratitude" that we are seeing God's work.
My prayer after reading this chapter:
Dear God,
I have always felt closer to you when I am outside. Breathing in Your breath... seeing the amazing beauty You have laid before me. I can feel Your arm across my shoulder and Your love in my heart and soul. Of course, you already know all of that. Amen.
I am making a concious effort to notice God's work in my life. To be thankful for what I have. To not dwell on what I don't have, or what I want.
The beginning
I thought it best to start with a little background.
I have always believed in God. I was raised Methodist and I can remember going to Sunday School at our church. I don't remember learning anything there. But I remember going. I don't think we went every Sunday. I don't ever remember my dad going to church with us... just me and my Mom.
I went to Catholic junior high and high school. I gained some opinions about the Catholic faith while I was there. I won't share those here.
In college, I decided that going to church was merely to prove to others that you believe in God. I felt, and still do, that faith is a personal relationship between oneself and the Lord. I found that I felt closer to God in places other than church. It was many years before I went to church again.
My first year teaching, I taught in a Catholic school. We went to mass once a week. I taught Kindergarten and preschool there. The mass wasn't altered to the level of the students. I felt badly for them, having to sit there and listen to something they couldn't possibly understand. I wasn't allowed to teach religion, because I am not Catholic, so I wasn't able to discuss the message with them.
Mike and I were married and soon moved to another city. We found out 9 months later that we were going to be parents. I had a strong desire to find a church. I was surprised by this feeling... but we went with it. We began attending a Catholic church in the town we lived in (because Mike is Catholic). While I was pregnant, it wasn't too bad. Although I never felt like I belonged there. After Blake was born it was even worse. I found that if I went to the cry room, I wasn't able to hear the sermon because the other parents in the cry room were discussing events of the week or upcoming plans, and the children in the cry room were doing homework or running around. We continued going to this church sporadically until we moved back to the town we live in now. We "church hopped" around here quite a bit. Mike joined the military and was often out of town so that left me and my 2 year old, boisterous boy to go to church together. I rarely got anything from the sermon because I was so busy trying to keep him entertained and quiet.
I pretty much quit going to church. And continually felt guilty for it.
Then a friend at work invited us to attend her church. She kept telling me how wonderful the church is and how much we would love it.
I finally told Mike that I thought we should give it a try. He agreed. We went. We fell in love. The church felt like home to us. We felt welcome the moment we walked in, even though nobody came running up to us thanking us for coming. The church is huge (over 1500 members) and growing more and more.
That first Sunday had us hooked. But tragedy struck our lives in the form of an ectopic pregnancy the following Friday. I had to have emergency surgery, which ended up being more invasive than they thought it would need to be. I was off work for the rest of the year (I'm a teacher) and was told I would need at least 6 weeks to physically recover. We didn't attend church during that time.
When we did finally go back, we felt even more at home. They have a fabulous program for children, so we were able to drop Blake off in his classroom and then attend worship ourselves. Blake fell in love with the church as quickly as we did. At 6 years old, if we went out of town he would ask, "Will we be home in time for church?" He is now 8 and still loves going to church. He has learned so much...much more than we could ever teach him at home.
That pretty much brings us up to date. If you've made it this far... thank you for reading!!
I purposely chose a very plain palatte for this blog. I want the focus to be on my journey with Christ, and not on some artistic background.
I have always believed in God. I was raised Methodist and I can remember going to Sunday School at our church. I don't remember learning anything there. But I remember going. I don't think we went every Sunday. I don't ever remember my dad going to church with us... just me and my Mom.
I went to Catholic junior high and high school. I gained some opinions about the Catholic faith while I was there. I won't share those here.
In college, I decided that going to church was merely to prove to others that you believe in God. I felt, and still do, that faith is a personal relationship between oneself and the Lord. I found that I felt closer to God in places other than church. It was many years before I went to church again.
My first year teaching, I taught in a Catholic school. We went to mass once a week. I taught Kindergarten and preschool there. The mass wasn't altered to the level of the students. I felt badly for them, having to sit there and listen to something they couldn't possibly understand. I wasn't allowed to teach religion, because I am not Catholic, so I wasn't able to discuss the message with them.
Mike and I were married and soon moved to another city. We found out 9 months later that we were going to be parents. I had a strong desire to find a church. I was surprised by this feeling... but we went with it. We began attending a Catholic church in the town we lived in (because Mike is Catholic). While I was pregnant, it wasn't too bad. Although I never felt like I belonged there. After Blake was born it was even worse. I found that if I went to the cry room, I wasn't able to hear the sermon because the other parents in the cry room were discussing events of the week or upcoming plans, and the children in the cry room were doing homework or running around. We continued going to this church sporadically until we moved back to the town we live in now. We "church hopped" around here quite a bit. Mike joined the military and was often out of town so that left me and my 2 year old, boisterous boy to go to church together. I rarely got anything from the sermon because I was so busy trying to keep him entertained and quiet.
I pretty much quit going to church. And continually felt guilty for it.
Then a friend at work invited us to attend her church. She kept telling me how wonderful the church is and how much we would love it.
I finally told Mike that I thought we should give it a try. He agreed. We went. We fell in love. The church felt like home to us. We felt welcome the moment we walked in, even though nobody came running up to us thanking us for coming. The church is huge (over 1500 members) and growing more and more.
That first Sunday had us hooked. But tragedy struck our lives in the form of an ectopic pregnancy the following Friday. I had to have emergency surgery, which ended up being more invasive than they thought it would need to be. I was off work for the rest of the year (I'm a teacher) and was told I would need at least 6 weeks to physically recover. We didn't attend church during that time.
When we did finally go back, we felt even more at home. They have a fabulous program for children, so we were able to drop Blake off in his classroom and then attend worship ourselves. Blake fell in love with the church as quickly as we did. At 6 years old, if we went out of town he would ask, "Will we be home in time for church?" He is now 8 and still loves going to church. He has learned so much...much more than we could ever teach him at home.
That pretty much brings us up to date. If you've made it this far... thank you for reading!!
I purposely chose a very plain palatte for this blog. I want the focus to be on my journey with Christ, and not on some artistic background.
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