Werd.

I know you've been holding your breath since my last post. What could Brandy possibly be leading up to? you ask yourself. I'm on the edge of my seat with the anticipation of reading her follow-up post.

I know, friends. I know.

Now brace yourselves because, alas, the follow up must be postponed.

Try to pull yourself together and be consoled by the fact that it will come soon.... Soon I can let you in on the project that has consumed so much of my time and energy... but not today.

Today I plan to blog about housekeeping and schedules and routines. Please try to stifle your collective groans.

So I have been attempting to wake up at 5am each morning. Honestly, most mornings, I am awake before that time anyways. However, there are some mornings when I am forced to drag my tired body and heavy eyelids out of bed so I can stumble into the morning.

Why would you choose to start your day so early? you ask. Especially when you don't have to be at work until 8:30am?

Good question. And one I can answer in three simple words: God said so.

Seriously. No, I can't find scripture to back it up. No, I will not commence a 12-point-sermon on the importance of being the Early Bird (trust me, I have enough worms already... more on that later).

Now you don't have to believe me on this. And maybe you've never experienced anything like this before. But the truth is this: God woke me up at 3am several weeks ago and said, "Get out your iphone. You're going to need to take some notes."

Surrreeeuhslay.

I have only heard the Lord's voice that clearly one other time in my life. The first time it was emotional, gut-wrenching, convicting, and life-changing.

This time it was gentle, almost professional, convicting, and life-changing.

I have held onto His words for several weeks now, debating whether or not I should share it with all of society (or, you know, the 7 people who read my blog). I have, to this point, only shared it with a handful of close friends. But for those who have heard it, they too have been impacted.

So, after prayerful consideration, here is (most of) what the Lord told me:

Your ministry to your home is priority. It is your energy tithe to me. I want the first 10% of your day spent focused on your home.

You are going to have to started getting up at 5am. [5:00am - 7:30am is 2.5 hours, approximately 10% of my day!] Use this time for loving your husband in housework and meal prep, and loving your children in your time and patience. Don't be afraid to read books, go outside and play, go for walks, talk about me, cook breakfast together, or leave the house early and go to the park. These times will become your cherished time with them. Be jealous of this time. Protect it. I will use it and bless it. This small amount of time, when dedicated in obedience to me, will be the greatest display of love to your children. They will grow in the knowledge that they are VIPs. They are loved first, and not fourth or fifth. This is your daily offering to me.

For Brandon, answer his phone calls. Listen to his day. Love and support his job because that is part of who he is. And show him that he is priority by preparing your home for peace.

This home will be a respite for you both. Take care of it. Love it as a symbol of love for each other. Don't keep score. Don't bicker over chores and things that don't matter. Do every chore as an offering to me, not a to-do list forced upon you in slavery. You are free to love me this way. You are designed to love me this way. It will bring you joy and peace and room for love. And I am pleased.

Go to bed on time. Your evenings will no longer be your time to clean or work on your home. Go to bed with a messy house. See it as a symptom of love and memories and a family full of life. Then wake up refreshed and ready to reset the stage in which you will perform the acts of love for your family.

You will set the tone for your home over the coming weeks. Schedules will change. Calendars will fill up. You will be busy. But - this is very important - you do not have to be hurried. You will be busy, but you do not have to be hurried. You will be busy, but you do not have to be hurried. Allow plenty of time for what you need to do. Be early. Start before you think you need to start. This will be crucial to the atmosphere of your home because - hear me on this - you cannot love in a hurry.

Remember to seek me and my Kingdom. Remember the bottom line - to love me and love others. Everything else. Every. Thing. Else. is temporary.

Know your worth. Know that you are called to more. I will set you free. That thing that holds you captive has lost its charm. I have disarmed it. You need only to walk away. Walk into my arms. Let me walk with you. I have given you the power of life and death; so speak love to yourself. Speak love to your body and your appetite. You are created for this - to glorify me with your temple. So speak love. Your tongue is the mighty weapon with which this battle will be won.

Know that I love you. Know that I am for you. Know that these offerings are pleasing to me. Your life is pleasing to me. Walk in that knowledge. Love in that knowledge. Bless in that knowledge. Worship in that knowledge. Live your life - full as it is - in that knowledge.

I. Love. You.

More to come...

Dropping Anchor

I have called many places home in my last seven years. Although, I suppose, if my hubby and I ever talk about "home," we're referring to Athens, GA - the place we were raised and where most of our family still lives. But even when we were dating, and in our early months of marriage, we knew we wouldn't be in Athens forever.

All of our "homes" have been transient. For a season. Temporary.

And I have loved this life. I have loved knowing that my family is not called to plant roots in anything (or any place) except the Kingdom. I have reveled in the idea of a new horizon, a new city, a new landscape, a new me.

But the thing about being transient is that it's hard to lay claim to anything. It's difficult to invest in something that is fleeting, you know? I tend to maintain surfacey friendships if I know the person will be leaving me (or vice versa) in the near future. I don't hang pictures on the walls of a house if I have to patch the holes a few months later. I know it's temporary; so I wait. I know it's only for a season; so I watch the seasons change. I don't drop anchor; I just look for the next big wave to carry me away.

That's the safe thing to do, you know. It's easier to never hang pictures than mess with putty when you move. It's easier to leave the boxes upacked than to repack them later. It's easier to love a little than lose a lot.

It wasn't until my seventh month in Korea when I realized how much that mentality permeated every area of my home. My relationships. My life. It's as if the Lord opened my eyes to what I was missing - who I was missing.

I suddenly realized that, with my roots firmly planted in the Kingdom of God, I was free (and required) to love people and places with reckless abandon. It could never be wasted. I might be abandoned by people, but the love that I gave (and lost) would be invested in a far greater place and Person. I committed in those last three months that I would give 100% of myself in those relationships and people. And I have not regretted one moment of that investment.

Fast forward a year (give or take).

It's December 2010.

I'm living in Memphis, my new temporary home. Chick Nite at The Life Church. Minding my own business. Expecting to have some fun. Riding the waves.

Then the speaker began to throw out some random statistics:

"Memphis, TN was recently named the Hungriest City in America."

What's that?

"26% of people in Memphis could not afford to buy food for their families in the last 12 months."

Come again?

"83% of people who come to the Food Bank have to choose between paying for food or paying for utilities."

"32% had to choose between food and rent or mortage payments."

I feel like I can't breathe.

"One area of Memphis has one of the highest infant mortality rates in the country - nearly twice the national average."

I'm heartbroken.

Then she told a story that haunted me - that night, and several nights since then.

For Christmas, our church gave out live Christmas trees (among other things) in one of the most impoverished areas of our city. They came complete with decorations and lights - as any Christmas tree should.

When they arrived at one home, the mother said, "We don't need the lights. We don't have any electricity."

Her little boy turned to her and said, "But Mom, can we please get them anyways? It will make it feel more like Christmas."

That night, it was 12 degrees in Memphis.

Twelve. Degrees.

And here is a family without heat.

Only 10 miles from my house.

Where I snuggled in a warm bed.

My heater turned on 70 degrees.

My pantry full of food.

Leftovers in the garbage.

My two healthy, happy children deep breathing in their beds.

I wouldn't have known that it was twelve degrees outside if I hadn't looked it up on one of my two laptops.

Yeah.

I didn't sleep at all that night.

I saw the anchor splashing into the waves.

I felt the ground shift beneath my feet as the roots began to creep their way through.

I knew I couldn't live in this place - in this city - without investing.

Fast forward to today...


(come back soon for Part 2)

A few days ago, Cindy Beall posted a recap of what the Lord has done in her life since her world fell apart 9 years ago. If you don't know her story, check it out here. (You can also check out her book, which will be on shelves soon.)

At the end of her post, she asked a simple question: What sort of amazing fruit have trials produced in your life?

I left a comment without thinking much about it. Then I went back to proofread my comment. Then I read it again. And again.

By my fourth time through it, I was crying as I realized how very good the Lord has been to me.

I whined and complained. I argued and bickered. I doubted His love, and I doubted His goodness. I asked him to save me from my circumstances. I bargained and begged. I didn't talk to Him for a while. Then I worked my tail off to "earn" the answer I wanted.

And he brought me to a place where I finally had to say, "I'd rather have you." Even if everything I believed about Him was a lie. Even if He wasn't good. Even if He only loved me a little bit. Even if I could never earn my way. Even if I would live in poverty and debt for the rest of my life. Even if my marriage and life was destined for mediocrity. I would still rather have Him.

And out of that moment - the moment when I realized He really is all that I have - He birthed a new desire. No longer all I have, He is truly and undeniably all I want.

See the comment I left on Cindy's blog below:

As Christians who attended (and volunteered at) church regularly, my husband and I had the same dream – to make a lot of money and retire early. We set about purchasing properties in our hometown, with the desire to either rent them or turn them over for profit. Right after we bought our second property, the economy went to pot, and we found ourselves $35k in debt (not including the mortgages) with very little income to live on.

That was when we finally turned to the Lord and said, “What do we do?” The Lord sent us to South Korea, where we taught English at a church and made less income than we had ever made in our lives.

He taught us to live on a budget, and to live a minimalist lifestyle. We realized that we didn’t need “stuff” in order to be happy. Actually, we realized the opposite. We learned that the “stuff” (and the financial burden that came with it) was preventing us from following God’s will for our life.

We have been back in the states for 13 months and, out of obedience to Christ, we are currently renting a small home, living TV- and Internet-Free, and using every extra penny to pay off our debt. We have never been more at peace, and we are looking forward to the day when all of our time and money can be dedicated 100% to the Kingdom (and not to our credit card bills).

I love love love that the Lord removes our support, leads us into the desert, and slays us with thirst – only to have us lean on Him, hide in His love, and drink of His goodness. (Hosea 2).

Thank you for sharing your life, Cindy, and for helping me remember what He has done in mine.


.......

From Hosea 2...

She said, ‘I will go after my lovers, who give me my food and my water, my wool and my linen, my olive oil and my drink.’ Therefore I will block her path with thornbushes; I will wall her in so that she cannot find her way. She will chase after her lovers but not catch them; she will look for them but not find them.

"Therefore I will take away my grain when it ripens, and my new wine when it is ready. I will take back my wool and my linen, intended to cover her naked body. So now I will expose her lewdness before the eyes of her lovers; no one will take her out of my hands.

I will stop all her celebrations: her yearly festivals, her New Moons, her Sabbath days—all her appointed festivals.
I will ruin her vines and her fig trees, which she said were her pay from her lovers; I will make them a thicket, and wild animals will devour them.

I will punish her for the days she burned incense to the Baals; she decked herself with rings and jewelry, and went after her lovers, but me she forgot,” declares the LORD.

“Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of [Trouble] a door of hope. There she will respond (or sing) as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt.

“In that day,” declares the LORD, “you will call me ‘my husband’; you will no longer call me ‘my master.’

I will plant her for myself in the land; I will show my love to the one I called ‘Not my loved one.
’
I will say to those called ‘Not my people’: ‘You are my people’;and they will say, ‘You are my God.’”

A Boring Update or Two

First of all, I want to sincerely thank those of you who responded to my last post. I am reminded more and more every day that this Christian life isn't meant to be lived alone. What affects the part, affects the whole, and I am SO BLESSED to have such amazing women in my life who take time out of their own busy schedules to give advice and send encouragement across the miles.

I did delete that post, in case you're wondering. I mainly posted it as a way of asking for some much-needed advice, but I don't want it to cause any harm to anyone who may read my blog in the future. So I took it down.

Still, I very much appreciate those of you who read and prayed and commented. Your input meant more to me than words can say.

In other news, just a few updates today:

1. I have almost completed going through the girls' clothes. We went from 4 FULL laundry baskets to two (including towels and blankets). I have one last load to wash and sort before I take yet another run to Goodwill.

2. I plan to tackle the kitchen next. We have too many dishes, and the amount of time that we spend washing them is ridiculous. I plan to narrow us down to six dinner plates, six coffee mugs, six bowls, and that's it. I'll probably end up clearing out some mixing bowls and a few small appliances too.

3. I know this is a boring post... I'm bored writing it...

...But these small steps bring me closer to the lifestyle the Lord has called us to lead in this season of our lives.

Last night, I got home at 6:30pm. I put the girls to bed. I worked on organizing clothes until 10pm. And I went to bed. And I'm still not finished. And I probably won't be finished until this weekend. And then it will all start again on Monday.

All that time and energy put into things that don't matter - things that won't last.

Brandon and I covet our time. We want to invest in our children, in each other, in God's kingdom, in things that last and matter.

We don't want to waste our time arranging and rearranging things we don't need and things that don't last.

So, yes, we're in a boring phase. There is nothing fun or exciting about sorting through 12 pair of leggings and trying to figure out which three to keep.

But when we're done. When everything is combed through. When every area of our home is at maximum use with minimum maintenance. Then we can start talking about more important (and more exciting) things.

Until then, friends, I hope you're prepared for all the cliff-hanging, soul-searching, breath-taking excitement that can come from a mountain of laundry and a sink full of dishes.

2 Corinthians 5

1-5For instance, we know that when these bodies of ours are taken down like tents and folded away, they will be replaced by resurrection bodies in heaven—God-made, not handmade—and we'll never have to relocate our "tents" again. Sometimes we can hardly wait to move—and so we cry out in frustration. Compared to what's coming, living conditions around here seem like a stopover in an unfurnished shack, and we're tired of it! We've been given a glimpse of the real thing, our true home, our resurrection bodies! The Spirit of God whets our appetite by giving us a taste of what's ahead. He puts a little of heaven in our hearts so that we'll never settle for less.

6-8That's why we live with such good cheer. You won't see us drooping our heads or dragging our feet! Cramped conditions here don't get us down. They only remind us of the spacious living conditions ahead. It's what we trust in but don't yet see that keeps us going. Do you suppose a few ruts in the road or rocks in the path are going to stop us? When the time comes, we'll be plenty ready to exchange exile for homecoming.

Movin' and Shakin' and Groovin' and Bakin'

We moved this weekend.

Yup. Moved out of our apartment (which we have loved) into a house (which we love more).

We have a yard. We have enough bedrooms for our growing family. We have less square footage, which we actually kind of like. We have a sidewalk. We have a little humming neighborhood.

And we have stuff. Lots and lots of stuff.

You may remember my 2011 Resolution to prepare my life for whatever God has next for us. A huge part of that means weeding out all the unnecessary “junk” that’s cluttering up my life – in my car, in my house, in my heart.

Although I haven’t updated the progress here much, I have taken no fewer than THREE carloads of “stuff” to Goodwill, and I have a fourth awaiting my attention at the apartment right now.

I was quite proud of that accomplishment.

Was.

I was proud until, well, we moved.

Boxes upon boxes. Bags upon bags. Stuff. Stuff. And more stuff.

They guys (who were gracious enough to help us move) could barely fit all the stuff in my living room.

It was piled high. And two days later, I am still going through boxes and bags of – you guessed it – stuff.

Decorations. Dishes. “Might-use-this-someday’s.” And clothes. OH! The clothes!!!

My husband (who was oh-so-sick the day of the move) accidentally mixed the clean and dirty clothes into the same bags. We have no way of telling what’s what; so all of our clothes – every single article of what we currently wear – are piled in the hallway outside our laundry room.

Y’all.

Y’all.

We cannot see the carpet in our entire hallway. And the pile, at some points, is over 3 feet high.

I’m ashamed to say that doesn’t even include the BOXES of clothes that are stored away for spring and summer.

Ugh.

In Korea, we had one outfit for each day, a couple sets of play clothes, and one “nice” outfit for church. I had two pair of shoes. Two. Pair. Of. Shoes.

A white pair for spring and summer. A black pair for fall and winter.

Surrr-eee-uhs-lay.

Now, I can’t find room for my shoes. My hallway is full (FULL!) of clothes.
And I started thinking about all the time my hubby and I spend on laundry alone. The washing and drying (and the electricity bills that come with it). The folding. The ironing. The putting away. The sorting. The digging. The searching for something to wear amidst the umpteen stacks that fill our drawers and closets.

If you don’t see where this is going, lem’me spell it out for ya. We’re going all-out Korean style, and this seems as good a time as any. As we wash (and re-wash) our pile(s) of clothes, I will be choosing 7-10 “outfits” for the girls, 1-2 “church dresses,” and a couple sets of pajamas.

Hubby and I will have even less (since we often wear the same outfit to work/play/church).

I’m ditching the shoes.

Yup. I’ll probably end up with more than 2 pair, but definitely not more than 4 or 5 (goodbye, lovely shiny red pumps that I would love to wear again someday but don’t have anything to match you now).

Stay tuned, I might take some before/after pictures, if I can swallow my pride for a minute.

A few more updates:

1. We are still TV-free and loving it. When Chloe is tired, she will occasionally ask when we’re going to get a TV. Those moments are just that – moments. They last only a few seconds before she takes off into her imaginary world of talking butterflies and giants and heroines and damsels in distress. Maple doesn’t seem to notice a difference. (In the name of full disclosure, for a couple afternoons a week, we do have a DVD player in the car that the girls watch on our 30-minute commute.)

2. While we’re not all-organic, chemical-free… we’re getting there. I’m still poo free (for the most part). I make a couple loaves of whole wheat bread each week, along with a couple batches of healthy granola. The girls are snacking on raw fruits and veggies and only ask for chips/cookies/etc. if they know we have them in the house. Otherwise, they don’t seem to miss them.

3. I’m not losing weight. Like, at all. But I am eating healthier and binging less. Hubby and I started P90X (aka: Excersize created in the pit of Hell) last night. Progress is progress, yo. Don’t hate.

So that’s it. May your week be filled with smiles and bubbles and sidewalk chalk.

The Korean Adventurer

I find myself lost in nostalgia today. My dear friend Kathryn and her family are heading to South Korea in the next 24 hours to begin a year-long work that God has called them to.

I'm am so excited for them. More excited than words can say. Living overseas is one of those life-changing, soul-searching, faith-building, family-uniting, God-ordained things that cannot fully be put into words. It is impossible to walk away from an experience like that unaltered. And I know they will look back on these memories as precious, cherished, beautiful times.

As I read her blog and talk with her on the phone, I find myself reliving the 24 hours before our own departure.

I was in a panic. I had never been to Korea and had no idea what to pack. I was trying to fit our entire life (including a month's supply of diapers and toiletries) into 4 suitcases, and I was failing miserably.

I was saying what "goodbye's" had not already been said by that point. I was desperately grasping for some calm in the midst of chaos.

Then I think about the airport. My mother was crying. My husband was focused. My children were content. I was... excited.

For the 3.5 of us boarding the plane, our nerves were so jittery, none of us slept for the entire 16-hour flight. The flight attendant served my bi-bim-bap. This was my first Korean dish.

When we arrived in Seoul, Pastor Kim and his lovely wife picked us up. While we all wanted to be friendly and conversational, my family and I all fell sound asleep on the hour-long ride to our new home.

A crowd of kind-faced Samonims greeted us at the entrance to our apartment building. We were so amazed at how these little, happy women carried our massive luggage up three flights of stairs to our second story apartment. We opened the door to our wood-floor, large-window, brightly-lit apartment. There were balloons on the windows and "American style" bread on the table. A hand-made glittered poster board read: "Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God." A few dishes, no doubt donated by the Samonims, were sitting on the kitchen counters. And several large bottles of water cooled in the fridge.

Our Korean-style bedding was lying on the warmed floor in the master bedroom. A dark burgundy leather couch sat against the wall of our living room.

I was exhausted. Completely foggy-brained. I remember looking at the Samonims, who were watching us with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation, and profusely repeating one of the few words I had learned on the plane ride over: Kam-sa-ham-ni-da. Thank you.

Chloe, exhausted and overwhelmed, cried herself to sleep that night.

We awoke early the next morning to a pink princess alarm clock Pastor Kim had given us: "Good morning, Princess. Good morning, Princess."

And the adventure began.

Our first visit to the church (where, in all my pregnant glory, I fell down an icy set of stairs).

Our first trip to the grocery store.

Our first unaccompanied trip to the grocery store.

The first snow fall.

The first time I met Easter.

The first time I was invited into a Samonim's house.

The first time an American friend visited us. (Shout out to Ansley!)

The first time we toured Seoul.

Our first meal at a restaurant.

Chloe's first Korean word.

Learning to bow.

Learning to read.

Learning to live.

Each memory could be an entire post all on its own.

We learned to love the adventure that was outside our front door. We learned to cherish the respite that was our warm apartment. We learned to let go of our agendas and cleave to the relationships that mattered most.

It was hard. It was challenging. It stretched me further than I ever thought I could go.

But it was beautiful. And it was dear. And it's an experience I will live over and over again in my heart and mind.

Kathryn, my dear friend, I'm so thrilled for you and your family. You are constantly in my thoughts and prayers. May God's presence feel near, His direction clear, His works evident, and His heart revealed.

2011 - Part 2

I've been trying to decide how to tell you about my "resolutions" for 2011. You see, they're not true "resolutions." More ideas. Thoughts. Feelings. Beliefs.

I could tell you that I Resolve to Be More Organized. But the truth goes much deeper than that.

Two months ago, after receiving a heartbreaking bit of news regarding my lovely city of Memphis (more on that later), I could not sleep. I cried out to the Lord, "Use me! USE me! use MEEE! Use my car. Use my house. Use everything I have."

To which the Lord clearly, deliberately stated: "Your car is not ready to be used. Your house is not ready to be used. You are not ready to be used."

Ugh. Truth.

At that moment, my car was so full of trash and jackets and bookbags and makeup and Starbucks cups and sippy cups and teddy bears and scarves and hats and apple cores... that I couldn't fit another person in there if my life depended on it.

My house - full of more junk. Full. Bursting at the seams. Items that had little use and no place to call home floated through my house like ghosts, seeking a life they once possessed.

And myself. My heart. My life. Full. Full of good things, like love for, and time with, my children, husband, friends, family. That's supposed to be there. Time with the Lord? Eh. It was there, but not as much as it should be. But then there's that other space: that space that can be filled and emptied and refilled over and over again. It's the space most often occupied by TV, facebook, more TV, gossip, TV, movies, TV, magazines, TV, idle shopping, TV, music, and more TV. (Did I mention TV?)

With the plethora of cheap entertainment and empty space-fillers at my disposal (and in constant use), is it any wonder I had no time for anything else?

My car. My home. My life... all totally unprepared for use in God's Kingdom.

That thought led to a slew of emotions, resolutions, goals, projects, plans, and determinations.

That was two months ago.

But over the past two months, through prayerful consideration with my husband, that big pot of resolutions has simmered and boiled down to a concentrated, purposeful salve of resolve.

I am resolved...

1.) To remove mindless TV from my life. We sold the xbox. We sold the movies (all 341 of them). We sold the DVD player. We sold (gasp) the TV. There may still be evenings when hubby and I cuddle up to the glow of the laptop screen and enjoy a movie together. But it is no longer the constant hum of our home.

2.) To prepare my house and car and every area of my life for the "promised offering."
Two days after I cleaned out my car, and elderly lady (with a trunk full of Christmas presents) broke down right in front of me. I was able to comfortably fit her and all her packages (plus a few of my own) into my car to help her home. Confirmation, anyone?
My house will take much longer than the five hours spent on my car. But, as my verse for the year says, "I want you to have all the time you need to make this offering in your own way. I don't want anything forced or hurried at the last minute." I have time, and I plan to make the most of it.

3.) To do what I am supposed to do right now. I don't mean this in the "big-picture" way I have said it in the past... as in, "I'm living where I'm supposed to live, doing the job I'm supposed to do, etc." What I mean is right now. At this moment. Am I doing what I am supposed to be doing? When I'm at work, I plan to work. When it's dinner time, I cook. When I should be with my children, I'm with my children. And when I should be folding clothes, I'm folding clothes. No more doing home from work or work from home. No more talking on the phone instead of talking with my daughter. No more resting when I should be busy or busyness when I should be resting. "For everything there is a season."

4.) Above all, to seek first the Kingdom of God and trust that "all these things" will be added unto me. I tend to jump on bandwagons. All or nothing. That's my motto. "I'm eating 500 calories a day so I can lose a million pounds." OR ""Look how immaculately perfect my house can be when I spend a ka-jillion hours a day on it." OR "I can sew new wardrobes for everyone in our family plus some for the neighbors!" OR "Apple Pie, anyone? I baked 23 of them this week just so I could get the perfect crust."
When I'm on those bandwagons, they become priority over everything else. They become a god. And I am convicted.
So my plan is to have one true bandwagon this year: God's Kingdom. And I'm going to trust and believe that, if everything I do is with that purpose in mind, "all these things" will fall into place.

Happy 2011, y'all.