Church is Family

Family. Nobody should be without it.

Yesterday I was one of the teachers for children's church. The Bible application was a bit of a stretch for young kids, but the basis was about how the Lord blesses our families through us. We started out by putting the kids into two groups and asking them to make a list of things they had in common with each other. This was the absolute best. I loved watching them discover one another...smile, laugh, and even share in disgust. The other teacher and I wanted to let this activity linger. We decided that THIS was exactly what we needed to be doing in kid's church every single sunday (in some way). We ended up greatly modifying the lesson, and even changed the memory verse for the week. To be honest, the original Bible application was virtually lost. But hearts were blessed through this little family...the little children's church family.

There's an old chorus we used to sing at church all the time when I was a kid and it started out: "I'm so glad I'm a part of the Family of God..." Inherently, we all want to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. We want relationships. We need them, actually. Instead, so many of us are stuck in our own self-pity ("the church didn't reach out to me" or "the church offended me"), or our own self-righteousness ("I don't need the church"). The Family of God (church) is not immune to drama, scandal, cliques, deceit, failure, gossip, etc. And what's sad to me is that people leave the church because of these very things. As a result, issues are never dealt with and the spiritual growth of the church is stunted. But what the church needs is for those people to stay, share what they have in common, as well as their hurts, fears, joys, wisdom, etc. We need to help carry each other's burdens and love unconditionally. Sometimes, all that requires of us is that we just be there.

I had a lot more written on this topic, but I decided to erase it all. I don't know if it was because of fear (lack of faith), or wisdom. Or maybe I'm just a coward for not pointing out the truth. My imperfections and insecurities certainly don't help me to be bold for Christ. Whatever the reason, I just don't think the easily offended world wants to hear what I have to say.  However, I will ask this one question: If you call yourself a Christian, and you've excluded yourself from the Church (Family of God), what's your reasoning?

"The way God designed our bodies is a model for understanding our lives together as a church: every part dependent on every other part, the parts we mention and the parts we don’t, the parts we see and the parts we don’t. If one part hurts, every other part is involved in the hurt, and in the healing. If one part flourishes, every other part enters into the exuberance." (1 Corinthians 12:25-26 The Message)

We need to stick together through all the "yuck" and all the "yay."

And that's that.

The Good Word

Ever feel like you've been sucked into the vortex of article/blog overload? Everyone has an opinion. It doesn't matter what the topic is, somehow the writer manages to sway you one way or another. You may think you have kept your preconceived thoughts, and you are completely unconscious of the stronghold those written words have had on you. Influence. It's everywhere.

Today, as I was perusing my Facebook feed, I clicked on several "good reads." Some were local articles or news, others anecdotal, and a couple were of the religious/Christian genre. It's the latter that often sparks my attention the most. "What does this person have to say? And do I agree with it? I respect the person that 'shared' it...does that mean that this is what that person thinks? Should I share this post?" And so on. It was today, though, that I had stopped the dialogue going on in my head and said, "Enough."

The pause occurred while I was reading a fantastic blog. I had read it before, and I was going over the eloquent musings all over again. The author was sharing her thoughts on the importance of going to and bringing our kids up in church even when modern Christian-ish culture gives us countless excuses of why we shouldn't have to. My mind began racing. I was thinking of all the "good" sharing this blog could do. I thought, "It might make people question their priorities and make better choices." Then, the dreaded happened. A list of people started forming in my head. And it was then that I stopped myself. I didn't share it...I didn't even "like" it. Instead, I asked God's forgiveness.

I prayed, "Who am I, Lord?"

And then I thought of that blog writer..."Who is she, Lord?"

Thankfully, I knew that the answers were, "You are Mine, and she is Mine."

And that's just it!

Everyone that needed to hear that blog..."They are Yours, Lord...not mine."

Convicted.

Too often, I think, Christians rely on the thoughts of others to guide them through life. We buy the latest book from our favorite inspirational author at take notes in our journal. We attend the church Bible study and eat all the delicious desserts with some lovely people. We watch Christian movies and feel good about making good media choices. We scour YouTube for encouraging tidbits from our favorite pastors/speakers and think, "Ooo, that was a good word!" And I suppose these are all good things. I suppose we should do these things. Don't stop doing these things. But if these are the only things we're doing, then we've got it all wrong. We shouldn't be relying on the thoughts and studies of others, but rather the thoughts of God Himself and what he wants to say to us alone.

Convicted again.

I've got to read my Bible. Our church has been doing a series the past several weeks on spiritual disciplines. And after every Sunday I could honestly say, "Ooo, that was a good word!" Meditation, prayer, fasting, and Bible reading. I'm not doing enough of any of these things...and even if I was doing "enough"it still wouldn't be enough. I confess, I've struggled with reading my Bible my entire life. I've never stopped trying, but it's almost like I don't really know how to do it, how to start...it's overwhelming. I've stuck to the passages I know: the encouraging sections, the Psalms and Proverbs, the Gospels, and I've dipped my toes into the prophetic books. I know there's so much more. I also know God has a plan for me, and if I seek his Word, he'll help me find my way. I just have to start.

For the month of February I'm setting aside the pile of books that sits next to my bed. And for every night this month I'm planning to copy Bible verses in my journal from a list a friend shared. Seems so simple...a bit juvenile maybe...but I'm really looking forward to it. I'm excited to hear what God has to say to me through His "good Word."

Here's the list if you want to try it out too!

PS...

For Christmas I purchased the "Action Bible" for my kids to read. It is a book that has most all (if not all) of the stories of the Bible written in comic form. My kids know that it isn't a full Bible, but a fun way to read and understand God's story. It's a big book...and last night my son (he's 9) announced he'd finished the entire thing. The amazing thing is that he's now my walking Bible dictionary! He helps me figure Bible story details, corrects me when I'm wrong, and knows stories I've never read. Inspiring :) 

Painting Passion

Painting is one of my most favorite hobbies. No, it's my most favorite hobby. There was a time long ago that I attempted to enjoy tole painting, but I found it too technical and frustrating. I would spend hours fixing minor flaws and would end up being unhappy with the outcome. Then one day I decided I wanted to repaint my old gray hand-me-down desk. I can't really remember, but I was maybe 12 or 13 at the time? It was a long process that I didn't know much about. We had a little storage shed behind our house and I laid down newspapers in cramped quarters and started stripping using paint thinner. Oy..the task was stinky, messy, and never-ending. I remember thinking, "what have I gotten myself into?" But, there was no going back, I had to finish what I had started. Once I sanded it, I was ready to paint. It was more difficult than I had anticipated. Painting a chair with rounded legs was a headache...and once I reached the desktop I was struggling with brush marks and paint that was drying too fast. Then there was the realization that one coat of paint wasn't going to be enough. "What?! I have to paint it again?" The entire process took several days; maybe even weeks. Once it was finished I decided that there was no way I was going to reinstall the old bent and beat-up hardware, so I begged my mom to take me to Rite Aid to pick out new hardware. And, I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure I had to buy it myself. Yes, there was a time long ago in which Rite Aid sold a decent selection of hardware...among other things. I didn't fall in love with any of the options, but I was so anxious to see my desk completely finished, that I settled for 5 shiny new knobs. Those knobs were installed within minutes of my arrival home. And it was then that I felt it...overwhelming satisfaction. A few years later I carefully lined all the drawers with elegant wallpaper that matched my room. Later, after I went to college, my mom dressed it up with tole painting (she was always better at that than I was) that matched the wallpaper. The ugly gray desk had become a treasure. A couple of years ago I replaced the second-rate Rite Aid knobs with glass ones and gave the desk to Synnove for Christmas.

Since finishing that first project, my love of painting has only increased. Becoming a homeowner was like wining the painting lottery! I had a whole house to fill with furniture on an extremely tight budget. I shopped Goodwill and my mother-in-law. In the short 2.5 years that we lived in our first home I painted a few walls, 3 dressers, a hutch, a crib, a bed, and a table. If I hadn't have birthed two babies in that time period, I probably would have painted more! 

When we moved into our current house, I had my work cut out for me. The house still had much of it's 1970's flair; wallpaper, white and pastel walls, dirty brick fireplace, and an entire basement adorned with raw tongue and groove cedar. I've since painted 90% of the ENTIRE house inside AND out. I've also painted the ins and outs of many of my friends' houses, my mom's house, my grandma's house, and my sister's house. Of course, this doesn't include all of the furniture pieces I've painted as well. The best part is I've enjoyed (almost) every minute of it.

It isn't very often that I paint something "just because." I usually have a purpose and vision in mind for each and every piece. A few weeks ago I was sitting down to sew a shower curtain at my old drop-leaf table that I painted for my kitchen in my first house. It was a red and yellow table placed in a room filled with beachy grays and turquoises. The only reason the table wasn't a complete out-of-place eyesore was because our downstairs still wears it's 1970's brick red/orange carpet. Originally the table was in storage until I started homeschooling and needed a table for our extra computer. It's placement was meant to be temporary (were intending to get a laptop), so I didn't care what it looked like. We've now been homeschooling for 3 years, and the table has not moved. The doldrums of Christmas break were starting to set in, and I was itching for a new project. This table was screaming to be re-done...so as soon as I finished that shower curtain, I carried that table out to the garage and started right away.

Remember how I stripped the paint on that first desk that I did? Well the experience was so unpleasant that I decided to avoid it whenever I could. I avoided it until my mother-in-law gave me this table for our first house. It had several layers of old paint and stripping it was a nightmare. I wasn't able to get two of the layers off, so I just sanded, primed and painted. Because I knew what was under my paint job from 11 years ago, I decided that avoiding stripping it AGAIN wasn't an option. Ugh. Stripping paint in your open-air garage in the middle of winter is not recommended. I'd say I spent around 20-25 hours over the course of several days stripping, scraping, and sanding. Like before, I quit before getting all the layers off. I primed and painted it a very bold teal color. And honestly, I was just gonna leave it at that...

But then I decided it might look cool with some words painted on it. I thought I'd find a Bible verse or a saying that might fit well with a sewing/crafting/project table. I had some different ideas on how I might do that, but nothing I was finding was exciting me much. I started looking into doing French typography...but creating a French typography stencil was going to be insanely difficult, and I wanted to finish the table within a reasonable amount of time.

I searched vintage graphics on thegraphicsfairy.com and found one of a vintage clothing stamp. I thought it quite fitting for a sewing table and decided to upload the graphic on blockposters.com. Blockposters is a free service that takes your picture or graphic and makes it big and prints it in pieces that fit on standard printer-size paper. To achieve the size I wanted, I needed it printed on EIGHT pieces of cardstock. I then proceeded to subject myself to 8 continuous hours of xacto-knife torture. I take that back...I took one break to make dinner and give my hand a much needed massage.

It took a couple of hours to stencil and touch-up. I also added some touches to the drawers, back cabinet (not shown in pics), and table-ends. Then I shabbied up the entire piece with sandpaper so that some of the white primer would show on the edges, etc. making sure I also gave the stenciled graphic a good sanding as well. It was then that I just left it for an hour or so. I looked at it, and looked at it again. I debated back and forth on if I should add the "dirty" antique glaze. In the end, I resolved to add it.

All that was left to do was to apply a couple of coats of Minwax satin Wipe-On-Poly, and get some new hardware.

I've spent more time and effort on this table than any other piece of furniture that I've refinished. My body ached at the end of every hour of work, but it was all worth it. There's nothing better than the satisfaction at the end of a job well done.