Short and Sweet

I think those two words will describe this post.  But you know how blogging goes.  And how much I love words.

Anyway, to the point.

We're two days out from Thanksgiving.  It's my favorite holiday.  I love that it's just a day about family and food.  And football if you are into that.  I am not but there are some people I love a lot who are super pumped about the Eagles playing on Thursday.  I have one thought about that:  whatevs.

Ok, I'm getting off track.  Back to the point, again.

Thanksgiving.  What's the condition of your heart as we approach this day?  What does your life look like right now?  Some of you are mourning.  Some of you are rejoicing.  Some of you are indifferent.  Some of you are overwhelmed.  Some of you are exhausted.  Some of you are at peace.

Here's the thing:  no matter what your life looks like Jesus calls us to be thankful.  If you are a Jesus follower your life should be marked by thanksgiving.

Jesus Calling led me to these verses this morning: "Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."

Here's where I'm going to let you in on a little secret.  I'm not joyful always.  I don't pray continually.  I don't give thanks in all circumstances.  Those are tall orders.  

Are you starting to feel crummy?  Cuz I kinda am.  

But here's another little secret:  God's mercies are new every morning.

Was yesterday a bad day?  Did you yell at someone you love?  Were you grumpy?  Did you forget to pray at all?  Well, throw your hands in the air right now and shout "HALLELUJAH!".   If you are breathing, you get another chance today.

I loved the thought behind this sentence in Jesus Calling: "If you practice thankfulness consistently, negative thought patterns will gradually grow weaker and weaker."

One time, a million years ago when I was a teenager, someone told me that I was the most negative person they knew.  That cut me to the quick.  There was NO WAY I wanted to be known like that.  And so I started making a thankful list.  Everyday I wrote down at least three things I was thankful for.  Some days it was super hard.  Some days I easily wrote more than three things.

I hope that today no one I know would give me the "Most Negative Person I Know" award.

Here's what I want for my life.  And your's too.

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit."

Did you catch that?  You don't need to conjure up hope by your own strength.  You don't need to fill yourself with joy and peace.  When you trust God he will do the filling.  You'll be like a cream filled donut stuffed with the joy, peace, and hope of Jesus.

And who doesn't want that?

Some days are better than others.  And sometimes you have a whole week of awesomeness.

That's me this week.  Every day = awesome.

It started on Monday.  After dropping Jake at preschool I ran errands in the rain.  And I loved it.  I dropped off something at work, visited the New Holland Re-uzit shop, went grocery shopping, ate a delicious cheesesteak from The Village Farm Market at 10:30am (stop judging me.  There is no wrong time for a cheesesteak), visited the Ephrata Re-uzit shop (what can I say, I'm cheap), and then returned to school for Jake and to be lunch mom for Cole's class.  And somewhere in there, while I was driving and singing along LOUDLY to the radio, my phone called a friend without my knowing it.  Good times.

Tuesday was super fun as well.  I have these two friends who come over for breakfast once a month.  And by 'breakfast' I mean they come at 9:00 and stay until they have to go to work.  In the afternoon.  6 hour breakfasts are the best.

Then there was today.  There's this girl I've been missing.  She came for lunch today.  I sat at the island while she made food.  It was...weird.  Not her food.  Sitting while someone else cooked.  Is that even a thing?!

Ok, not gonna lie.  I am not a huge fan of nori.  I mean, c'mon.  It tastes the way dead fish smell.  But I'd do anything for Adrianne.  So we ate California rolls.  At least they were really pretty.  Nice work, Adrianne!

We also drank a bunch of tea.

And then we ate this:

Mmm, toast with smashed avocado, cucumber strips, salt, and pepper.  Now this, this I can get on board with!

We may have even done this:

You don't waste a perfectly ripe avocado.  It's, like, the 11th commandment.  So.Good.

We didn't get to chat as much as I wanted to.  Because this:

He thinks it's his sole responsibility to fill all quiet space with his words.  And be the master of all conversations.  Also, it's hard to tell, but in the middle photo he's pulled his swim suit up over his sweatpants.  They're all bunched up.  He didn't really seem to care.  And the shark on his swim shirt?  He insisted that it was a dolphin.

Whatevs.

He did come in handy for photo taking tho.  Please enjoy the following photos taken by a four year old.

It's been decided that Adrianne will come back on a Monday or Wednesday morning when Jake is not around to hijack the entire conversation interrupt.

For now, I'm thankful for the two and half hours we had and delighted that Adrianne is back in the same state as me.

I love you, A.

Eeek

There may come a day when I come home from the grocery store, unload my grocery bags from the car, and immediately put the groceries away.

Today is not that day.

So, once again, the counter behind me is covered in grocery bags while I sit here and pound the key board.

Today as I dropped my youngest son off at preschool his teacher casually said, "I love reading your blog!"  I said thanks and hopped back in the car and shut the door.  And then someone knocked on my window.

"Excuse me," she said, "Did I just hear her say you are a blogger?"

I answered that I was, indeed, a blogger.  But it sounded strange.  I don't identify myself as a blogger.  I type words.  Just like I don't identify myself as a runner.  I go out and move my legs a little faster than a walk.  Bloggers are eloquent.  They have followers.  Runners are good at running.  They run races.

I type words.  I move my legs a little faster than a walk.

Anyway.

"I'm a blogger too!" she said.  "We are having a meeting tonight in Ephrata for local bloggers if you want to come.  It's from 7-9."

My face smiled and my mouth said "Oh, I'll keep that in mind!" while my inner hermit said 'I'M STAYING HOME TONIGHT!'.

Here's the thing.  When I think of meeting with other local bloggers I feel scared.  What if my writing is totally inferior?  What if I'm actually pretty decent?  What if I link up to their blogs and their readers become my readers?  What if my words spread farther than I ever thought possible?

Can I tell you?  Sometimes I am downright terrified of the influence I have.

But then this other thought occurs to me.  We are all influencing someone.  Unless you live underground and never see anyone at all.  Your choices, your words, your actions, they are being seen and heard by other people.  Somedays it makes me want to curl up in a ball and weep.  Cuz my heart is not always right.  I wound the people I love.  Sometimes I am the wounded one.  Words get spewed and my eyes leak.  Or my heart hardens.  My face tenses. 

Then there is the flip side of the coin.  Somedays I want to spread my arms wide and spin in circles.  Cuz sometimes my heart is right.  It can be pouring rain and I can walk with my head high, my heart glad because I know Who I belong to.  Somedays that joy spills out and I tell the cashier, "I love your fingernails".  Or I smile wide at that elderly lady.  Words get spoken and my eyes smile.  Or my heart lifts.  My face lights up.

Who are you influencing today?  And which side of the coin is up?

It doesn't matter if you are old or young or somewhere in the middle.  What you say and what you do are important.  If you are scared spitless when you think of the people who are affected by what you say and do, will you join me?

I'm clinging to Jesus.

Domestic Thursday

As I'm blogging today here's what's happening on my counter:  there are lentils cooling, oats soaking, ice melting in my homemade-super-healthy green tea drink, and a sourdough starter souring.  Beyond the counter there is laundry happening, homemade salad dressing cooling in the fridge, and two kids playing.

Yes, two kids.  Because it's Domestic Thursday.

Several weeks ago a young mother from my church emailed to ask me if I would be willing to watch her nine month old daughter on Thursdays.  *Andee, if you are reading this, please skip the next paragraph :) *

My immediate response was "no".  And I had a million good reasons why.  But before I hit send I felt this check in my spirit.  Have you felt it?  My thought process was something like this: "Oh, crap."

Yes, Jesus?  You want me to do it?  Ugh.  But I don't want to!!

I whined the last part in a way that would make any 2 year old proud.

Andee?  You can join us again.

I said I would be willing.  From 6:30 am-5:30 pm.  The whole day.

And you know what?  It's been fantastic.  Firstly, this little girl is adorable.  Absolutely adorable.  And easy.  And happy.  She is just so sweet.  Side note:  Before any of you get the brainy idea that babysitting this angel baby is going to make me want another one, guess again.  It's fun to love her for the day and then send her home and sleep all night.

You know how my words for this year are "slow" and "deliberate"?  And how I'm not very good at either?  Yeah, I think Jesus wanted me to babysit on Thursdays so that I could be both.  I don't make any plans for Thursdays.  I stay home ALL day and I accomplish tons of stuff and I don't have to rush to do it.  

It's wonderful and exactly what I needed.

Huh, imagine that?  

I listened to what Jesus wanted me to do and I got exactly what I needed.

That thought stops me in my tracks.  Why don't I listen more often?

Because pride.

Because selfishness.

Because thickheadedness.

Jesus has his work cut out for him in changing me to be more like him.  But I'm pretty sure he's equal to the task.

It's happening again.  The counter top behind me is full of groceries needing to be put away.  But the pull to blog is stronger.

Be still, groceries, you can wait.

Has the weather ever matched your mood perfectly?  Today it does for me.  My soul feels a little gray and cloudy.  

Today we should be celebrating an 11 year old's birthday.  But we're not.  

Our oldest child was due on this date.  We lost that baby in a miscarriage.  I know a lot of you dear women know this pain.  I know you cry the same tears I've cried.  I know you hug your other children extra tight on days like today.

I hope you all have a friend like the friend who texted me "Just  letting you know that I'm thinking about and praying for you today."

Do you know anyone having a rough day or a difficult season?  Don't hesitate to send them a text or email or give them a call to simply say, "hey, I'm thinking about you."  It might not seem like much to you but it could mean the world to them.

And if you are the one having the difficult day or season?  Don't forget to look for joy.  Count the gifts Jesus puts in your day.  Don't let darkness win by giving in to cynicism.  I read these powerful words from Ann Voskamp this morning:  "You could be a sophisticated cynic and miss your whole life that way...Anybody can be a cynic.  Cynicism is laziness in every way.  The real heroes are the ones who never stop looking for the possibility of joy."

So, what has brought you joy today?  Here are a few of mine:

1.  I saw a tree with amazingly beautiful red leaves

2.  I spent time cooking with three of my lovely friends this morning

3.  The sun is breaking thru the clouds right now

4.  This little lovie crawled up on my lap and asked if we can take a picture together.

Sidenote:  he said this picture was "gross".  Because I'm kissing him.  He says all the time how much he hates kisses.  I'm going to be reminding him of that often in about 12 years.

Some days are difficult.  Some days are easy.  But choose to be the hero everyday.  Don't stop looking for the possibility of joy.

I watched a war movie yesterday and I dropped a picaken.  

For the second time.

Two weeks ago as I was taking a picaken from the oven the whole @#$% bottom of my spring form pan fell out.  Ugh.  Picaken guts all over my oven door, oven bottom, and kitchen floor.  So, we scooped it up, plopped it in a bowl and called it 'trifle'.  

Yesterday, during the making of the picaken, I boldly declared that there would be only one dropped picaken in the history of my picaken making and that had already happened so this picaken was safe.

Famous last words.

Everything was going swimmingly.  I successfully removed the picaken from the oven, cooled it on a cooling rack, removed the spring form pan sides, and placed the delicious looking cake on a cake stand.  I slathered it in caramel icing and started cutting pieces and serving them.  The cake stand was in my space so I gave it a little push.  Which caused the temperamental picaken to slide off the stand, careen over the side of the island, and splat upside down on my brand new bar stool.

For the love of everything holy, I JUST WANT TO MAKE A PRETTY PICAKEN.  Altho, picaken trifle is just as tasty.

But back to the war movie.  It's not the kind of movie I usually watch.  In all honesty, I don't watch many movies.  Except maybe kids movies.  Not gonna lie, I think I enjoy them more than my kids do.

This particular war movie was based on a true story.  It sounded...intense, for lack of a better word.

And it was.  I watched with a pillow covering half my face.  I closed my eyes for some of it.  I cried.  And when it was over I couldn't talk about it.

I think knowing that it was based on a true story made it that much more powerful for me.  Seeing the bond those Navy SEALs had with each other was incredible.  Watching them fight the enemy was intense.  Seeing them blood splattered, gashed, and broken was difficult.  Watching them die was heartbreaking.

And it hit home for me in a new way.  There are men and women who are doing these things for me.  Fighting, bleeding, dying so that I can live in a free country.  I felt so humbled.  And thankful.  And undeserving.

Which led my thoughts to another Man.  Who also fought for me. Who was also bloodied for me.  Who also died for me.  I felt so humbled.  And thankful.  And undeserving.

But Jesus thought my life was worth it.  He thinks the same about yours.  

Worth fighting for. 

Worth dying for.  

Worth crushing death for.

So I offer my life back to Him. 

Jesus, would you use me?

I have thoughts.  And not much time.  And probably ADD.

I'm considering blogging about something that might ruffle a few feathers.

But first, a few of my random thoughts from right now.

1.  I look really cute today, I wish more of you could see me.

2.  I should probably work on my humbleness level.

3.  I should be putting away all those groceries behind me on the counter instead of blogging.

4.  The mornings Jake is at preschool, is it ok for me to be selfish with my time and not plan on seeing anyone?

5.  I want picaken.

6.  I love the song playing on Pandora right now.

7.  I bought a pair of Toms and they are amazingly comfortable and weird.  They are burlap.  I might be turning into a hippie.

8.  I hope my new bar stools come today.

9.  AH!!  I have to make soup to take to someone tonight.  

10.  I wish my brain had an off button.  I also wish I could blog while I was doing other things.

11.  Why do I tie my worth to my to-do list?

12.  How do I write what I want to write without stepping on anyones toes?

13.  I 'll work on it later.  Groceries now.

Ok, it's later.  Just incase you are wondering, it took me 2.5 hours to put away the groceries.  Because ADD.  Also, I look decidedly less cute now than I did earlier today.  Some of you requested that I take a selfie.  Sorry, I did not.  You'll just have to take my word on the cuteness.  My bar stools did not come.  I got the soup made. I didn't figure out how to turn off my brain.  Or blog while doing something else.  Numbers 4 and 11 deserve their own blog posts.  Which leaves me to blog about my original thought.

I would love if my church dropped the word "Mennonite" from our title.

And now you are wondering why, right?  I've had this discussion with some of you.  It's taken me a long time to work up the courage to blog on this for all the world to see.  I'm afraid of messing this up and offending you.  Please hear my heart that I mean no offense.

See, here's the thing;  When I say I go to a mennonite church I can see walls go up.  "Mennonite" means so many different things.  On one end of the spectrum you have the horse and buggy/head covering/suspender wearing/PA dutch speaking mennonites.  That's not my church.  On the other end of the spectrum you have very liberal lesbian pastors.  Also not my church.  How can one word encompass such vastly different beliefs?  It's confusing.

And then there are the jokes.  Have you heard them?  

How was copper wire invented?
Two mennonites fighting over a penny.

What's the difference between an Indian in a canoe and a mennonite in a restaurant?
The Indian is more likely to tip.

Saint Peter is giving a tour to a new resident of heaven.  They come to a closed door.  "Shhh," says Peter with a twinkle in his eye, "The mennonites are in there and they think they're the only ones here."

Ouch.

One of my co-workers has recently started coming to church with us.  When he told his grandparents (who live out of the area) that he was going to Weaverland Mennonite they had questions.  Like "Oh, do they sing only hymns?". 

Nope.

Also questions about coverings.  

Answer?  There are not many of them.

So what is Weaverland like?

Huh, see what I did there?  I dropped the "mennonite" without even thinking about it.  In fact, whenever anyone asks where I go to church I just simply say "Weaverland".

Anyway, what is Weaverland like?  

Music:  We sing a wide variety of praise and worship songs and hymns.  We have drums on our worship team.  Some people raise their hands during worship.  Some people cry.  I've yet to see anyone dance but I'd be delighted if that happened.  Some people sing loudly.  Some people don't sing at all.  Worship as you feel led.  

Dress code:  You will see some older ladies with head coverings.  You will see some men in suits.  You will see some men in jeans.  You will see some ladies in dresses.  You will see some ladies in jeans.  Wear what you have.

Sermon:  Straight up, we believe the Bible and our pastors preach it as truth.  Sometimes there is an alter call.  Most times there is not.  But our ministry team is ALWAYS willing to talk with anyone about anything.  They are really super great.

Congregation:  Lots of families.  Lots of kids.  Lots of young adults.  Lots of ordinary people.

Hmm, interesting.  This is what I love about blogging.  I had no idea I was going to end up plugging for Weaverland.  But it's really not a surprise, because let me tell you, it's a great church, I really love it and feel at home there.  If you need a church home we'd love to have you.  Your friends and family might have some questions like "are you turning into a mennonite?" but just say what i say:

"I'm a Jesus follower who just happens to go to a mennonite church."

If you go to a mennonite church, what are your thoughts on the word "mennonite"?

If you don't go to a mennonite church, what are your thoughts on the word "mennonite"?

If you don't go to church at all, what are your thoughts on the word "mennonite"?