And I collapsed in tears realizing what I had done...

Numbers 14: 13-23

And this is love,

Not that we loved God,

but that He loved us

and sent His son to be the

PROPITIATION

for our sins.

1 john 4:10

May your weekend be filled with the Joy of knowing that even though our sin should have kept us from the abundance;

 His sacrifice on our behalf brought us to the

 Promised Land.

I want to be a Tabernacle Mover!

This morning I did the right thing. Or at least I thought I did. I was sooo proud of myself. I had to fight a bit to do it, after all, I am in a battle here - a raging battle. It's the battle between dark and light. No! not that good vs. evil thing... literally dark vs. light. See... I love the night but I am no a big fan of the morning. How could I be? If I don't go to bed before Midnight, how on earth am I gonna wake up at 6 am cheery and ready to go?

          However.....


.... I do love my tea. Yes indeedie I do!
                   I really love HOT tea most and I especially like sipping my hot tea in the quiet and calm of a lovely candle-lit room.

some of many

One of many

Well, in this house when in the world am I gonna get a quiet, candle-lit room in which to sip my hot tea? ONLY at about 5:30 or 6:00 A.M.   Yep, that's what I said - IN THE MORNING!

Elliot Ness Farhart

So, I did what I knew was the right thing to do this morning and that was to get up with the pup at 5:45 (when he decided to awaken) and just stay up. I lit some candles and made myself a cup of very hot tea (the only real way to drink it... it takes practice) and settled in at the table to inspect the new computer program our church added to it's website. I was gonna investigate the Examen Me program, listen/read (yes, the program actually reads the passages to you) our scripture for today and begin my on-line journal.


I have to admit, I was very proud of myself. I won the battle over the sleepy, droopy eyes and excitedly settled in to my chair as I listened/read along to Numbers 8-10. We are reading, as a church, the Chronological Bible and each week our pastor is preaching a message from a previous reading. I love that because as we trudge through some difficult parts of the Old Testament we know we are in good company and he shows us weekly how Jesus is in the Old Testament too. That's not new to me but I am sure it is to some. When you see Jesus there, Leviticus and Numbers aren't quite so difficult.

But no sooner did I emit a gentle "ahhhh" as I began to listen I heard and saw with my own eyes this:

15 On the day that the tabernacle was set up, the cloud covered the tabernacle, the tent of the testimony. And at evening it was over the tabernacle like the appearance of fire until morning. 16 So it was always: the cloud covered it by day and the appearance of fire by night. 17 And whenever the cloud lifted from over the tent, after that the people of Israel set out, and in the place where the cloud settled down, there the people of Israel camped.18 At the command of the Lord the people of Israel set out, and at the command of the Lord they camped. As long as the cloud rested over the tabernacle, they remained in camp. 19 Even when the cloud continued over the tabernacle many days, the people of Israel kept the charge of the Lord and did not set out. 20 Sometimes the cloud was a few days over the tabernacle, and according to the command of the Lord they remained in camp; then according to the command of the Lord they set out.21 And sometimes the cloud remained from evening until morning. And when the cloud lifted in the morning, they set out, or if it continued for a day and a night, when the cloud lifted they set out.22 Whether it was two days, or a month, or a longer time, that the cloud continued over the tabernacle, abiding there, the people of Israel remained in camp and did not set out, but when it lifted they set out.23 At the command of the Lord they camped and at the command of the Lord they set out. They kept the charge of the Lord, at the command of the Lord by Moses.

I was aware of this....

               I had read this before.....

But I never really KNEW it. I never really THOUGHT about it in practicality. 

THIS is the tabernacle and the encampment
with the pillar of fire at night

                   REALLY?


Look at how huge this thing was? Look at all the tents and what I am sure we don't see... livestock and other things that we don't realize are part of this encampment.

I had to wonder... how many people woke up on any given morning to see the "cloud by day" ever so slowing drifting away, only to whisper "Man.... we have to take that thing down again? We just put it up! I am so sick and tired of moving over and over and over again! For What? Is there really anything so wonderful ahead of us that it's worth all this work?"

And as I found myself immersed in that image I almost screamed "YES! YES THERE IS! I promise you if you persevere you will see what amazing land God has for you. ALL His promises are true and YOU are so loved by Him and in spite of what you see and hear and feel He has amazing things planned for you!"

And then, I found myself unable to breathe... I wondered those words because, knowing who I am... the lazy, selfish, wicked woman that I am... those words would have been mine. Why? because unlike today, back then they didn't have the rest of the story.

                        I am not a Tabernacle Mover... not yet. I want to be, I am determined to be.

This is how I would prefer to spend the afternoon
This is not the image of a
Tabernacle Mover

I realized how little I like to work. Oh, I will, when I absolutely HAVE to. When it will reflect badly on me to not work, regardless of what the work entails, I will jump in and do it cheerfully (well on the outside). I am as happy scrubbing toilets as I am anything else... as long as my doing it will earn me kudos.

But, here, in the confines of my home, not so much. What is the difference between the Tabernacle that God had the Israelites build and my own home? Granted, we usually compare it to our church building and I totally get that but to be correct, isn't our home just as much a place where God meets us? Honestly, isn't everywhere we are, our Tabernacle? Doesn't God, in this New Testament age, meet us everywhere? And aren't we to reflect that constantly?

So.... being a Tabernacle mover is as much hitting the streets of Jackson with We Will Go Ministries even if it's taking me out of my comfort zone, to picking up my house when I'd rather just shove the clutter around, because clutter makes having a calm and organized school day virtually impossible. Maybe it means that I need to give up my desire to watch ANOTHER Law and Order (which I hate to admit isn't all that redeeming - although give me a blog post on that and I could find a way to view it in a redemptive way) and grab my precious gift from God, snuggle up on the couch and read to her. Even more, give in to my new teenager's desire for me to read aloud his latest assigned text instead of him reading it himself (he's a beast of a reader) if only because it speaks love to him in a way that it doesn't to me. Maybe it means recognizing each morning that I, in and of myself, am a lazy, selfish slug and without audibly asking God via the Holy Spirit to take me and make me a Tabernacle Mover I will crawl back in bed and miss time alone with Him basking in His Word, happily sipping my hot tea, enjoying the aroma of the candle lit that morning.

These are the hands of a
Tabernacle Mover

Renew my spirit Lord, only you can recreate what I have ruined. The piece of clay that you so beautifully molded has been altered by years of careless handling. Throw me back on the wheel and do whatever you need to do in order that I may delight in the work you have for me. Whether it be moving a Tabernacle when I'd rather be relaxing in front of the TV or reading to my precious children when I'd rather be reading for myself. 

Don't let me lose sight of YOUR BEST for me and my family and my life as you have created it. Yes Lord, I want to be willing to be a Tabernacle Mover!

Prayer in the PET scan....

 So, today I realized that there's even a weirder place to pray than the tanning bed... the machine you slide into for a PET scan. Now, I realize that there are probably many people who pray in those machines because they are face to face with illnesses that they are scared of. Some pray for healing, some pray for strength to confront whatever they will learn after their scan, some pray that when they die their kids won't fight over their stuff. Hopefully, some pray that Jesus will take their old wicked heart and make it new. If that machine would lead someone to their knees (figuratively) at the feet of Jesus then that experience would be worth it. But I doubt that most do "bow the knee" in the place where it makes even the toughest seem weak-kneed.

This is what they put my Gman in today.

How do I know this? Because my Gman just had a PET scan today. To give you the full picture let me start at the beginning.

 I didn't accompany him. He and I are not very "needy" people - he's gone into and out of surgery before without me there and I could easily do the same if it wasn't his intense need to protect me that draws a line in the sand for him. He had an abnormal stress test which led him to have this procedure done.

 We take Paul's command seriously in that we are

 "... not anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. (Phil 4:6)


Neither of us felt there was anything to be concerned about so I went about my business homeschooling the kids and he left for his PET scan appointment.

He arrived and waited to be taken back to have a portal-type needle put in his arm for them to add fluids during the test. Unfortunately the girl who did the injection didn't connect something fast enough and his blood spewed out everywhere. He joked with her not to stress, he's seen worse before and as her interest in his comment was piqued she asked him to explain what he meant. Stories, one after another, of his interesting escapades while in state and federal law enforcement ensued and by the time he was laying on the scan table, the nurse had shared them with the tech as well. By the time he was strapped in, he was definitely BMOC in the eyes of the medical staff.

They had previously asked him if he was claustrophobic before they even made the appointment and did so again today.  Both times, he told them he wasn't.  They asked him to lift his arms and lay them in little channels that kept them still over his head.  I suppose that stretched his upper body to enable the scan to be viewed well.  Then they slowly moved the bed into the machine. He closed his eyes to protect them from the laser that was at the front of the machine and was promptly told he could open them again. What happened next shocked and embarrassed this man that carries a gun for a living. The man that breaks people's doors in to arrest them and dons bullet proof vests like surgeons wear scrubs.

He began to absolutely FREAK out inside!

He politely asked if they could move him out again and wondered if there wasn't another way this scan could be accomplished. He admitted, mortified, that he "just didn't like being in there". But, because I hadn't gone with him he couldn't be given a drug to calm him and that was the only machine in the state of MS that could do the scan that he needed. So, the big tough guy that was moved into the scanner came out minutes later the  not so tough guy that realized he was pretty claustrophobic.

There was nothing he could do, and so, he took a deep breath and said "Come on then, let's do this". Thirty minutes seemed like hours as he closed his eyes and prayed diligently for God to calm his spirit. While laying there he realized that it was more than the claustrophobia that bothered him, it was the vulnerable position he was laying in. Arms locked above his head, straps around his body, inside a machine that was so close to his face that he barely could move. Gmen just don't get put in those positions.... E.V.E.R. .... or they are dead. Then, to make it worse, they injected medicine in his port to make his heart race. He went from feeling vulnerable, to anxious, to light headed and dizzy... Those 30 minutes seemed like 5 hours. For the first time in his memory he was totally submissive - totally and completely submissive - anyone at anytime could have come up to him and done anything to him and he had no power over it. He finally knew what it was like to submit himself to God.

⁵ Trust in the LORD with all your heart
   and lean not on your own understanding;
⁶ in all your ways submit to him,
   and he will make your paths straight

(Prvbs 3:5-6)

This is my Gman.

Another real life lesson was the realization that although God got him through that experience it wasn't in any way easy, smooth, quick, or tied with a nice neat bow. It was an agonizing experience. Every second of every minute that he was in that scanner was breathtaking and not in a good way. How often do we recognize that? We so often think that just praying through something will give us ease in it's midst. He never promises that. Sometimes we have to trudge through something that He's put in front of us like we are struggling to walk a mile in knee-deep mud. Does He get us through it? Sure. Was it a miraculously easy thing to get through? Not one bit. 

He is feeling much better now that the scan is over. It's not been read yet so we really don't know what the specifics of his issues are or if he will ever have to undergo that procedure again. It's precious of God to love us so much that He will put us into positions on occasion (or regularly in my case) that make us realize who WE are and Who HE is and that there is no comparison. 

None of us like to feel or be vulnerable, especially in the extreme way the Gman was today. But if our Creator God wants that vulnerability from us it is only because He knows that only in that position will we be able to be fully free. 

What I've learned fromThe Pioneer Woman, Teil drei

This is The Pioneer Woman,
but alas,
I am NOT the Pioneer Woman.

I picked up the cookbook again. I am trying to decide what to make first. Fully expecting that I will fail to get the kind of delightful response from my family that I am sure she gets from hers, I have to choose carefully.

While looking through the many pages of delicious offerings I came across one that had a picture of a young, handsome man next to a horse with a cowboy hat on. The title of the page was:

My Pesky Brother-in Law, Tim

I don't have a brother-in-law named Tim. Mine is named Scott, he is famous (see here) He doesn't wear a cowboy hat or hang out with horses. He wears scrubs and hangs out with women, many of them, all day long. He's an OBGYN. He's not even close to being pesky because he lives too far away. I would like him to be pesky, I would like him to be the peskiest brother-in-law ever because he lived right around the corner. Some would say that I only wanted Scott to live around the corner and be pesky because he'd bring his wife Sandy with him whom I absolutely A.D.O.R.E. 

This is Dr. Scott Farhart
He is famous.

Ok, some might be right but not totally. I wish he lived around the corner and was pesky because he and MJF deserve to live closer to each other. They only lived together for a short time when they were young and lived the majority of their teenage years apart. They would be good for each other. 

This is Joshua Scott.
He is almost as funny as
his uncle.

Having them around here would 

be good for my kids. Son #3 is named for his uncle Scott. He is just like his uncle. It's uncanny. The older Joshua Scott gets the more I see it. Joshua is hilarious. Scott is hilarious too. And Scott can be hilarious in only 1 sentence. My favorite emails are ones sent to me by Scott. I don't get them often and they usually come as a response to something I have said. Most often they have me laughing out loud. Joshua has me laughing out loud every day - really, every stinkin' day. 

Scott's got this incredible daughter named Jordan. She is the example every mom would want to have for her daughter. I feel, in some ways, Kate is missing out not having her older cousin Jordan to watch live out the life of a Godly woman in front of her face. I am missing out not having the example of HOW to guide my daughter into living a life of a Godly woman in front of MY face. 

Then there is Jared, their son, born only 6 weeks after our oldest son Drew. Jared and Drew could not lack similarities more than they do. I think the only thing they would agree on is their love for Jesus Christ. And yet something tells me they could have learned a lot from each other. Like his father Jared is hilarious. He has been gracious enough to let me be his friend on Facebook and it's all I can do to not comment on his status updates... I have been told by #2 son that there is nothing cool about that so I try to refrain. Still I wish we knew those incredible kids better. 

And to have Sandy closer would be more than I can imagine so I will not get myself worked up trying to imagine it. 

I am learning a lot from The Pioneer Woman, just paging through her cookbook has made me think about things that I have never spent even a minute pondering. I am so glad I pondered this though. What I have been reminded of is that we can't always have the people that make us happy nearby. But somehow, just knowing how much I wish they were nearby makes the little time I get with them all the more sweet. And even moreso, because we share Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior, we will be together, forever, in eternity.  

So, will we get mansions nearby? If so, will they get sick of US? Wow, I'd not thought about US being the pesky ones.... 

What comes out of your grinder?????

Himalayan salt in grinder 

Do you have any idea what this is?  THIS, my friends, is a grinder full of Himalayan salt. "Of course!" you say, " because it's posted down below the picture."  What a doofus...

Anyway, I am posting this because this is how I feel today. I feel like I am being put through the grinder.

 Now, the truth is that I am not sure I am REALLY being put through the grinder, I just FEEL like I am.

So what?

          Right?

   I mean, who really cares?

           Suck it up and take it like a man, right? After all, that's what I tell my kids. But here's the rub...

         What happens to my food when I grind this wonderful stuff on it?


IT TASTES BETTER, LOVELIER, YUMMIER, DELICIOUS.

       Regardless of what grinder I come out of, I am supposed to be salt.  I did not come out that way today. I was not only NOT SALT, I was something altogether different, I am not sure that there is an herb that is totally gross, yucky, disgusting, hurtful. If there is, that is what came out.

                     I hate that I went through the grinder and came out yucky. I am sorry. I wish I could go back in and do it again.

                                                             Alas...

                              I cannot.

What I have learned from The Pioneer Woman, Pt deux...

No, I am not The Pioneer Woman. She cooks. She CAN cook. I bet everything she cooks is wonderful. I bet everything she cooks LOOKS wonderful. I bet every time her kids walk into her house after working on the ranch all day they smell what she's cooking for dinner and actually jump for joy.

 I am not she...

OK, so I do cook, occasionally, much less than my family would like. I don't like it. No, that's a lie. I DO like to cook. What I don't like is the less than unanimous feeling about what I cook. No, that's a lie, too. What I don't like is the less than unanimous, bowing down and worshiping at my feet because I am such an amazing cook reaction that I get when I do cook for 3 teenage boys and an 8 year old girl. The Gman doesn't have to do those things because he never complains - E.V.E.R.

This is the Pioneer Woman,
Unfortunately, I am not
The Pioneer Woman

I should still cook more. I really should. It's hard to do things that you know you should do even when you know you won't get the reaction that you'd like. Even when you know you won't get the reaction you deserve.

Everything in life is like that. Why we let a select few dictate our direction, our joys, our desires, our endeavors; it's beyond me. There's really only ONE that should dictate those things. He's the one who created us to want after things. Not things we hold in our hands, things we strive after. Adventures, ambitions, occupations, dreams... Only HE should be the one to discourage our pursuits. He's not a discourager. For those who KNOW Him well know what pleases Him and therefore know the directions we are supposed to go.

I really don't think that He tells us right away though. I think he allows us to stew on things. I wonder if He serves a lot of Stew in  Heaven because I find myself having to stew on things, chew on things, pick things apart - move around the carrots, separate the potatoes and the tomatoes - to find the really excellent piece of meat; and it's the meat that I want so much.

I found myself stewing for about two years after reading this. He let me stew. It was good for me. I tossed potatoes and carrots but hung on to the tomatoes. I never found the meat until I went here on Saturday and met Amy Lancaster. For the first time in my life I met someone who could actually see people with Jesus' eyes. I knew that through the power of the Holy Spirit it was possible but I never thought I'd see it in this part of the world. I didn't think it was something an American could actually possess. She is the most amazing woman I have ever met and I've met more than a few amazing women. If I could have coffee (well, I'd drink tea) with her once a week I'd sit and listen and never speak - never - not one moment I was with her. I'd be afraid I'd miss some amazing truth about Christ because she knows Him in a way that I wasn't sure was possible.

He spoke to me through her on Saturday. He not only revealed meat to me, He revealed a whole pile of it that was hiding under the tomatoes I'd kept in the bowl. I tossed those tomatoes because there was so much meat, I'd gotten full and couldn't eat a bite more.  And although there was more meat there I didn't partake. A stomach can only hold so much. It's gotta digest and when it has, I will go back because there's a banquet waiting for me. Right in downtown Jackson. In the roughest part of the city. A banquet available any day of the week, any time of the day. Open for anyone who is willing to show up and say "I need...." And they never have to tell her what they need because she knows, that in reality, they  we, all need the same thing... Jesus. And she's got a stew pot that never empties full of Jesus.

The Lord used Amy to speak clearly to me. He clarified some thoughts I had about ambitions, adventures, occupations, and dreams. After all, He created me. He knows what He wants me to do and He made me to do just that.                                                                                                                                                              

I have decided that being a foot model isn't in my future. After all. He created all of me - my feet included.

My feet

They are fat feet, not pretty, not long and lovely. He did create me to "go and do". These feet, although not lovely will take me where I need to go to please Him. So I will digest the meat He's given me and watch for the growth that comes from feeding my soul.

I bet the Pioneer Woman has pretty feet. She may live on a ranch but I bet she gets mani-pedis once a week. But it doesn't matter that I don't have pretty feet. They still do the job they were created to do. And besides, my feet will be pretty in Heaven and I will live there a whole lot longer than I will live here.

Do you think they carry OPI polish in Heaven cuz I am sure we don't wear shoes there.

What I've learned from The Pioneer Woman, Part Uno

This is the Pioneer Woman,
it's unfortunately not me...

So, I have an unbelievable sister-in-law. There are so many things I could say about her but I haven't the room... Well I do but she wouldn't want me to go on and on about her. I have wanted to be her since the day I met her in July of 1983. She was a week away from marrying MJF's brother and I was about 6 weeks away from marrying MJF. They were having something like 5,000 people at their wedding (I could be exaggerating but is sure seemed that way) and we were having 100. She was (and still is) itty bitty, cute, and bubbly. Me... well, let's just say none of those words describe me. She had everything going for her, I had, well, I just didn't know. What I did know was that I wished I was her.

Twenty-seven years later and many days I still wish I was her. For many of the same reasons I wish I was her but some days, for very different reasons.

Today, because of something she did, something really unbelievably special and totally surprising to me, I have decided that, at almost 50 years old, I was going to have to come to terms with who I am and I was going to have to learn to embrace it. Yes, I said embrace it. Not just be happy with it, not just be satisfied, but I needed to learn to EMBRACE all of me, in just the place God has put me.

What did she do? She sent me the Pioneer Woman Cookbook. Now I know what she was thinking by sending it to me. It was a splurge and she knew I wanted it. She knew I didn't need it but that it would be so much fun. And that's how I felt about it today when I opened it. Little did I know that reading about Ree, The Pioneer Woman, who she was before she hit the ranch, how she has become a ranch-lover, and how she has EMBRACED her life... it was like a brick hit me between the eyes. I really think it was the story of how she met the Marlboro Man and how to this day she still calls him the Marlboro Man and adores him, that really got to me.

This is my Gman. 

I don't have a Marlboro Man. What I do have is a Gman. A Gman is tons better than a Marlboro Man. I have not been enjoying my Gman the way I should. I have not been bragging about my Gman the way I should and reading her talk about her Marlboro Man really convicted me that I have been taking him for granted, a lot. Look at him... he's pretty darn awesome.

There are more things that I want to say about how reading The Pioneer Woman's cookbook impacted me. It will take several blog posts to do it. That's a good thing though because I promised to do a better job feeding my blog. Pioneer Woman reminded me of that as well.

This is me. Obviously I am not the Pioneer Woman.
It is not the best picture of me.
It's actually sort of silly..
I decided to EMBRACE silly.