Tuesday, November 29, 2011

It's Raining, Where Did You Build Your House?

Recently, Tucson endured torrential rains, flash flooding, overflowing washes and damage to not only residences and businesses, but to the landscape where we live.

Many houses in the flood plains (actually dry washes) suffered serious damage when mountains of mud and debris suddenly filled living rooms, kitchens and bedrooms when natural sand barriers crumbled in the torrents.

Homes built on higher ground, on solid foundations, suffered little to no damage at all even though they endured the same storms.

How many of us have built our homes (lives) on sand and not rock?

For many years, my life was built around the notion that I was a good person. Sure, I had my faults, my foibles and even my sins. However, I was under the impression that since I asked Jesus into my heart at bible camp when I was 12, I was saved.

But, I still found myself constantly struggling in the quicksand of sin. Why?

I was and still am fluent in Christianese. I know Christian-speak and I know all the right cliche's about Christian behavior and how a Christian is supposed to act.

At least I thought I did.

In many churches today, a doctrine is being taught that is contrary to the word of God. What is so frightening is that I, like millions of other "Christians" in this country alone, bought into it, hook, line and sinker.

In a nutshell, this doctrine teaches us (and our children, if we let it) that Jesus is a sweet, sweet God that we can keep in our pockets.

Integrated into this doctrine is the New Age-get-enlightened-and-feel-good nonsense. We're made dizzy and full of ourselves on Sunday mornings and yet, on Sunday night, we're watching Desperate Housewives or Grey's Anatomy.

Monday, we're listening to music that blatantly promotes sex outside of marriage. The number one and two songs on the charts this week are titled, "Unfaithful" and "Promiscuous Girl."

On Wednesday, we're scouring the tabloids in our haste to find out what celebrity cheated, nearly dropped her baby, broke up a marriage, got arrested for DUI or overdosed on drugs.

By Friday, we're gossiping about our coworkers, judging our friends and famiy members (not their behavior, them personally) and acting as if we would never do the things they do.

But

on Sunday morning, they we are in our finest clothes, sitting in the front pew, bowing our heads and thanking God that we are saved from the fiery pits of hell because we said a little prayer many years ago asking Jesus into our hearts.

To my Christian friends: Have you ever heard about being up a creek without a paddle?

We're deceiving ourselves. Jesus didn't teach about a sweet little prayer and salvation.

He taught repentance and salvation by grace through faith. If we aren't living a radically different life, repenting daily and obeying Christ, we're up that creek.

We can look the part, act the part, talk the part, read the part and yes, even write the part, but if we aren't in daily communication with our Savior through prayer, obedience and repentance, we won't even get a part in the kingdom of heaven.

By building our spiritual lives in dry washes and flood plains, we are easily manipulated into thinking that we're ok, you're ok, everyone is a-ok. But, when we profess to be Christians and share the God of love with the world but neglect to mention that this holy God despises sin, demands repentance and obedience, we're not sharing God at all!

We've built on sand!

What we're telling the world is that Jesus died in vain. "He died, thank you, Lord, but please don't ask me to do anything for you that might make people think I'm a religious fanatic. You only matter to me when a family member is sick, when I need help with my checkbook or on Mother's Day."

When Jesus was nailed to the cross, it was because it was the only way that man could be reconciled with God.

God gave His Son so that we might live if we turn from our sin, trust in Him and obey Him. All of our good deeds and works matter not if they aren't done with a repentant, grateful and obedient heart.

It matters not if we say we know Jesus.

What matters most is, does Jesus know you?

Not everyone who says to me, "Lord, Lord" will enter the kindgom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, "Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?"

Then I will say to them plainly, "I never knew you. Away from me you evildoers!" Matthew 7:21-23

It's raining, my friends. Where did you build your house?

Therefore, everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house ont he rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.

But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose and the winds blew and beat against that house and if fell with a great crash. Matthew 7:24-27



Originally written for ©The Peach Pages 2006
I dream of knitting, of making soft, comfy beanie hats for all of Tucson, even if I don't live there. 

And then, once I've made a million hats, I would find the tallest building there and toss them over like $100 bills, anticipating the people below running to and fro, collecting hat after hat and shrieking with joy. 


I would hope they would, simply because hats are the only things I know how to knit.

Monday, November 28, 2011

Hercules

So far today I have removed from this animal's mouth:  a shoe, yarn, toilet paper roll, rock, clothes pen, macaroni and cheese box (?), carpet, a Christmas ornament, bubble wrap, a slipper, a blanket, a wrench left on the floor by the assembler of the Christmas tree, and an ice cube, which I gave back.

Puppies are fun.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

My Sunday Song

Learning

It's Sunday morning. Instead of going to church this morning, we're hanging at the house keeping an eye on our oldest son. He hasn't done anything wrong, he's just dealing with mono.

Ugh! Do you remember those days back in high school when someone was out for days or weeks at a time with the dreaded mono?

There was always this part of me that wanted to get it too so that I could miss school.
Think I needed attention much?


Since I became a Christian in the spring of 2006, I realized that I will always be a work in progress. As much as I wish that certain traits would just up and disappear, I now know that many of them will only go away if I give them up.

There are behaviors that I am embarrassed by. For instance, I tend to get very worked up if I can't find my keys. Or my debit card. Or a shoe. Or getting to the Kroger and realizing that my debit card isn't in my purse.

I know! The humanity!


I live about eight miles from the grocery store. In the middle of the desert. And my truck (Ford Exploder) doesn't have a back window so the air conditioning goes, "Whoosh!" right by me.

Sorry about the tangent. I am good friends with Mr. Tangent and often find myself moving away from what I was talking about.

Anyhow, something happened this past week that I didn't expect. The Big Guy and I had made the trek into town and found a parking spot only three spaces from the front of the store. While putting my keys into my purse, I did the cursory look in my wallet to make sure my card was there.

It was not.

Upon noticing that I had noticed that the card was missing, my son took a deep breath and waited for the explosion that inevitably follows such a discovery.

But, something else was in play that day. Instead of getting upset, I felt calmed. I merely said to my boy,"Well, it looks like we'll have to run out to the house and get the card."

He asked me where his mother was.

For a brief moment, I lamented the loss of a good parking space. However, it was fleeting and I turned my thoughts to God. There was no other explanation for my lack of a conniption.

Finding the card on my office desk a little while later, I bounded down the stairs and headed for the truck again. (I exaggerated the "bounded". It was more like a trudge.) Once again, we were heading into town and feeling the cool air for a brief moment before it was sucked out the black hole that is the space where my window should be.
Arriving at the store a few minutes later, I was a tad disappointed to find that wonderful parking spot occupied.

However, the first spot was wide open and waiting for me.
The lesson I learned that day was to simply quit acting a fool over the small things, like the world does. If I am in this world and not of this world, it would make sense that my behavior would stand out and would clearly be the opposite of everyone else's behavior.

If "the LORD is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and rich in love", shouldn't I be as well? (Psalm 145:8)


Thank you Lord for Your forgiveness and for helping me to see that anger should never be the answer in situations like the one above. I could not do this without You.

Conviction

I spilled my drink last night.

It was a rather large glass filled with Pepsi and as it splashed to the floor, I suddenly become aware of the fact that not only was the floor a wet, sticky mess, the brand-new wireless keyboard my parents had purchased for us was underneath a flood of the sugary liquid.

Although it was an accident, it shed light on a glaringly ugly truth; I wasn't supposed to drink anything next to the computer with the exception of water. 

You see, this isn't a requirement handed down to me by a ruthless dictator. This rule was an agreement made over a year ago; the sixth time I had ruined a keyboard for thoughtlessly placing a cup filled with soda next to the computer.

I knew better.

What happened next still brings me to shame.

Knowing that my husband would be disappointed about the loss of a perfectly functioning keyboard, I humbly walked into the family room and told him what happened.

His response was a quiet, restrained, "Well honey, what did you expect would happen?"

The irritation was evident in his voice and he sighed. 
Still feeling waves of guilt coursing through me, I responded tersely.

"We can't all be like you, Mr. High and Mighty! The rest of the world makes mistakes!"

I didn't stop there and I won't repeat what I said here. Suffice it to say, the recipient of my tirade didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of my foolish, cruel words.
Turning on my heel, I stormed out of the family room, but the guilt began to slow my movements before I made it to the back door. I knew I was wrong for speaking to my husband the way I just did. The shame was emanating from my pores as I reached the patio.

But the feeling flooding my soul at that moment was oppressive and suffocating. It felt as if the hot, humid air around me was closing a fist around my spirit. Cornered and powerless to stop the onslaught, I hung my head and began to cry.
The feeling was familiar; I knew it well.

Conviction.

As if someone had flipped the switch on the playback of the past ten minutes, I was assaulted with the spilling soda as it cascaded over the keyboard and onto the floor. I then saw my husband's pained expression as the words I flung so effortlessly punched holes in his heart.

Each of those illustrations pointed out the unnecessary situation I found myself in.

Had I obeyed the family rule, I wouldn't have ruined the keyboard. 
If I had kept my tongue and dealt with my guilt properly, I wouldn't have lashed out at my husband.
As those revelations shed light on my circumstance, I sobbed openly while I confessed to God and asked for forgiveness. The nasty stain covering my heart slowly began to recede.

Knowing that I wouldn't feel the full effect of my Father's forgiveness until I completed another task, I silently opened the sliding glass door and stepped inside.

I found him in the bathroom, keyboard in hand, drying the the keys and components with a bath towel. I timidly approached the man that I had just spit venom at and lightly tapped his shoulder.

His piercing blue eyes softened when he saw the humbled, tear-stained green ones looking back at him. 

I mustered up the courage to speak and said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been drinking soda by the computer and I shouldn't have spoken to you that way. Will you forgive me...please?"

He stood there quietly for a moment, pondering my words and then looking deep into my eyes. He then reached out to brush a lock of hair from my eyes and said, "I know you are. It's ok. I forgive you."
As suddenly as conviction settled upon my spirit, a new wave began swirling about; one that removed the choke hold on my soul and in its place, left a different kind of flood.

Grace.
Peace.

Love.


Your sin prompts your mouth;
you adopt the tongue of the crafty.

Your own mouth condemns you, not mine;
your own lips testify against you
.
Job 15:5-6


For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.
Colossians 1:13-14


Originally posted on my old blog © The Peach Pages

But Where Is Your Fruit, Child?

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control." (Galatians 5:22)

The other day, I was perusing one of those social sites and landed on the profile of a young man I once knew from our church in Georgia. He's now a college graduate, setting foot outside the confines of school and making his way in life.

Gazing over his profile, I noticed that he had the quote, "I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me."

Directly below the quote was a reference to pornography. The quotes began to get worse (and much more embarrassing) the further down I read. After looking at his pictures, I began to wonder what went wrong in his life. The dichotomy between the biblical quote and the pornography quote was striking.

And then it occurred to me, so many professing Christians are not Christians at all.

Where are the fruits that are proof-positive that one has turned from sin and the Holy Spirit has taken up residence in one's heart? Where is the change?

I spent years wondering if I was indeed saved. I believed in God. I went to church every Wednesday night and every Sunday morning. But something just wasn't right. It seemed like I was two people; one who said she loved God and the other who acted and spoke as if she did not know God at all. How can that be?

I thought back to that hot, muggy day in Georgia when at 13, I made my way down to the makeshift altar at bible camp and said the Sinner's Prayer. And then it hit me; the Sinner's Prayer was the problem!

We've all heard it. Many of us have actually uttered it after a well-meaning pastor or traveling preacher spoke it for us to repeat.

It would hold for awhile, but since there was no genuine conversion, the sinner's prayer would fall further and further from our memories as we fell further and further into the very sin we were supposed to hate.

Fruits of the Spirit then would not be made manifest because the sinner is not saved. This explains why so many professing Christians are so carnal in their behavior and why they continually find themselves on the wrong side of grace.

How could I claim to be a Christian when my focus in life was on everything but God? I didn't read the bible I carried on Sunday mornings, nor did I read it while I was working with the young people at church. We were too busy trying to have fun instead of trying to lead others to Christ.

But the fruit! Where was the fruit? Was I compassionate? Did I shun gossip? (No.) Was I kind? Was I faithful? Did I practice self-control? Was I good?

I can honestly say that no, I was very clearly not who I portrayed myself to be and when I was confronted by a holy and just God, I found out very quickly that I was nowhere near being saved. In fact, I was on the wide road and approaching the wide gate.

Confronted by my sin, I forgot the sinner's prayer and instead, found myself face down on the floor and crying out to God to save me. I wanted to be saved from my sin, saved from hell, saved from me.

Repenting suddenly made sense. Suddenly understanding why Jesus died on the cross brought a fresh round of guilt and heartbreak.

I knew it was supposed to be me up there.

I remember that day. I'll always remember the day I was truly born again.

That's the day the worthless Sinner's Prayer died and when I began to notice the blooming flowers of joy, peace and kindness and could not wait to taste the delicious fruit they would become.



©Tara Floyd (Peachy)

Friday, November 25, 2011

The Daily Spurgeon: Excellence Comes From Effort

The Daily Spurgeon: Excellence Comes From Effort: Young man, young woman, you desire to be as nearly perfect as may be possible. So be it! God help you and accomplish in...

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

The Fall Part I

June 28, 2011

Summer break. 

The Big Guy had just graduated and was learning the ways of the lazy and the Butterbean was mastering the art of staying up all night and sleeping all day.  I was enjoying sleeping in: until 10 am just about everyday!

This particular Tuesday I had lollygagged in dreamland until 10:30 and when I awoke, I quickly realized I needed to put the dogs out.  Grabbing my phone and a couple of plates off the nightstand, I started down the stairs only to be stopped at the landing by my two schnauzers, Sadie and Emma, enjoying a skirmish two steps further down.  

Shooing them down because I didn't want to fall, I stood there momentarily until both had turned the corner and tore off into the kitchen.

Then I took one step...and missed.

First off, I did not know I could bounce.  For future reference, I can bounce.

Secondly, with that first bounce, I fractured my T11 and T12 vertebrae; they are in my thoracic spine if you aren't aware of their location.  I didn't have a clue where my thoracic spine was.  Just think, "middle" and you're right.

By the time I made it down to the second to the last stair, bouncing all the way, which is clearly not like jingling all the way, I could barely breathe.  This made calling the Big Guy for help nearly impossible.

For a full two or three minutes I practiced Lamaze breathing for the pain.  Hee hee hee, hoo hoo hoo.  I would punctuate my hee hoos with a wail.  It added to the drama.

Finally, I was able to begin banging the wall and within moments a clearly panicked Big Guy appeared at my side, instantly whipped out his cell phone and called the paramedics.  In all my years, I never saw someone go from terrified to calm and concerned and clearly in charge.  And he did it in mere seconds.

When I attempted to move, he appeared in front of me and with a firm but gentle grasp to the shoulders he said, "Don't."

I didn't.

Within a couple of minutes, the paramedics arrived, assessed the situation, with a sideways glance to the broken plates scattered down the steps and on the floor, and placed a cervical collar around my neck.

I know it's for my safety, but it is also clearly a device of torture.  Especially when it's 105 outside and the ambulance meant to take me to the hospital dies in the driveway...



  

Monday, November 21, 2011

It's been years, but I can still remember the day I wondered what the Big Guy would turn out like. 

I always he knew he'd be tall, kind and thoughtful.  I did not know that he would also be quick-witted, fiery tempered and fiercely loyal. 

And opionated.  Boy, is that boy opinionated. 

Ask him about politics and he'll tell you bluntly exactly what he believes and why.  He's a believer in the underdog and he's a fighter for what is right. 

He cannot stand the idea of terrorism and abhors the violence in the world. 

I suppose that's why he joined the Army.  He wants to do his part to right the wrongs in this world.  He wants to protect the families in harm's way, even if that means he makes the ultimate sacrifice.

As the woman who knew him before he knew himself, I'm proud.  As the mother who watched him take his first steps, first to me and then into the world, I have worry and fear.

But I needn't be anxious about him leaving soon.  He also has a strong belief in the God who created this world, who created him.  And as much as it's hard for me to believe, He loves him much more than I ever could.

And it's His hand that he'll hold the day he lets mine go.
In 2004, I created a "journal" on AOL that I found great success and satisfaction in.  By 2009, things had changed so much on America Online that within a short period of time, their journals were gone as well as the community that had sprung up around their existence.

My journal was called The Peach Pages and I shared my life as a wife and mother with the world.  Everyday antics of my boys appeared to lighten the moods of many and my deep thoughts regarding marriage and faith drew readers into my seemingly perfect world.

But life isn't perfect and little boys grow up.  Husbands, such as my sweet Bald Avenger stay true though, and life changes in ways we would never expect.

I recently found myself in a pretty crappy position; first I was at the bottom of the stairs a lot quicker than I had planned one day and second, home for months of recovery from broken and fractured vertebrae in my thoracic spine and the complications that arose from that stupid fall in June. 

As I continue to find myself taking two steps forward and one step back on this journey of recovery (and discovery, to be honest) one thing has called me back:  the desire to share life since the day I stopped writing.  The desire to share life Beyond the Peach Pages.