In April 2014 I began a journey of studying and, literally, living like Jesus and his guys modeled for us.
James 1:27 has become my mantra: Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.
With this verse in mind, I began an experiment that I told myself I would do for one year. I began experimenting with making changes in my home, family, and way of living. Each new thing I attempted to implement needed to have a “yes” answer to one, some, or all of the following questions:
- Does this love God?
- Does this love myself?
- Does this love others?
- Does this love the earth?
In approaching each new idea as an experiment, I was able to be easy on myself when something didn’t work out well. When an idea didn’t work out well, I was also able to let it go and try something else. If it DID work, I was able to keep the idea as a permanent change.
Some things that did not go so great were making my own laundry products, the no-poo shampoo method, purchasing strictly from local businesses, and bringing legions of people along with me on this crazy-beautiful journey.
Some things that stuck are going paper free in the kitchen, using laundry products that create less waste, not getting my hair and nails done and putting that money towards adoption costs, spending less wastefully, purchasing gifts and eating out primarily at local businesses, and teaching a small group of people what I am learning along the way and watching them be dedicated and change themselves and the world around them one little step and change at a time.
During this year I have come to be in love with the beauty of adoption and the tangible picture it gives the world of God adopting us. I have learned to ask for help. I have learned to be more caring to the earth and myself and others around me. I have learned more about authentic Christianity this year than I ever have in my whole life. My life is so full and rich.
The greatest, hardest thing that has come out of this year is our decision to adopt. That is how I will end this year of experimentation and begin a new one. We are about midway through the adoption process and I am so excited to see what happens next! Who joins our family!
I began this experiment thinking I would do it for one year and then move on to the next “thing”. I have learned so much and long so much to continue this experiment, that has become a lifestyle, that I will never be able to complete all the things I now wish to do/be/try in one lifetime.
I hope you begin your own experiment. I hope you make your own new journey. I hope you learn so much that you are not able to contain it. I hope you choose to go, be, and do!
You can see updates about our adoption and pitch in, if you want, here: http://gofundme.com/mpe1kc
Anything worth doing does not come easily, and it shouldn’t.
I believe we give up, or give in, far too quickly when something, that started out as fun or exciting or a good idea, becomes difficult or boring and/or the excitement of the newness wears off. Or…We begin receiving outside opposition. (There are always going to be people who do not understand our journey, and that is okay. It is not theirs to understand.)
If you have thought through your idea, and it is something that you truly believe in, something you are passionate about, something you just have to see through to the end or you’re going to bust! Do it! Stick it out. Complete the journey.
If there are no obstacles, we are unable to see the value of the thing. We can not appreciate our growth through the process. We will not have beautiful stories to tell.
These are the things that life and memories are made of. The tragedy. The triumph. The heartbreak. The joys! We will not have any of these wonderful things if we do not choose to complete the journey.
Choose. Go. Be. Do. Live. Create stories and memories and a life that leaves a legacy!
Anything worth doing does not come easily, and it shouldn’t.
So, here’s a thing….Yesterday, our family had a very major and craptastic event, which I can’t really talk about here.
A lot of times when things are hard we, the whole group of humans, just need to say, “Hey! Anyone who will pay attention! I’m hurting, here!” I had one of those moments and I posted, “The shit hath hitteth the fan.” And if the shit hadn’t hit the fan already, it certainly did then.
Some well-meaning iron sharpeners (Proverbs 27:17 https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Proverbs+27%3A17&version=NIV#) proceeded to try and “sharpen” me.
If I had said poop or doo doo or crap or bull hockey or dookie or fieces, I still would have meant “shit”. Not a single person that read that post would be any the wiser. All would be right in the pretty, perfect, pretender church world. BUT. *Jesus* would know that I was a liar.
Now, I can’t find any scripture about going to hell for saying “shit”, BUT I *do* know that Revelation 21:8 says, But as for cowards and the unfaithful, and the polluted, and murderers, fornicators, and those who practise magic or worship idols, and all liars–the portion allotted to them shall be in the Lake which burns with fire and sulphur…”
You can judge me. You can criticize me. You can correct me. I would rather be in right standing with Jesus than anyone else ANY day.
The good thing about this situation is, I’m confident in who I am and who I am in HIM and what He has placed SO BIG in my heart that if I don’t do it….I’M GONNA BUST! Nobody else has to understand or approve of or answer for my journey. It is mine. I love it, and it is beautiful.
a picture story
People always ask why I call myself The Worst Preacher’s Wife Ever. Here it is. In pictures…
I love my peeps,
and my puppy,
and combinations of things sexy and classy, but not trashy, and all things retro pin-up.
I relate to this:
better than I relate to most Christian music.
I am a total Jesus girl and I strive to live like this:
I am socially awkward
I am VERY trustworthy
because sometimes, there is just no other word that will do.
I am sarcastic,
have a warped sense of humor,
and I’m real about my messy life.
I don’t like stupid church stuff.
I love this,
but feel like we more often get this:
I like cigarettes and whiskey on occasion(s).
I don’t do boring.
Most of all…..
The preacher and I were in Aurora this afternoon. We turned onto this street just as a car jumped the median, flipped, and landed on its top in the other direction of traffic. Miraculously, no other vehicles added to the situation.
The preacher real quick like parked in the median and we ran to see if we could help. There was already a small group of men around the car working together to help the driver get out. A young lady was on the phone with 911 and a few other people were keeping an eye on traffic, giving sincerely helpful hints, and just standing at the ready in case something else needed to be done.
The preacher jumped right in and helped the group of men pull the driver from the car. The car was still running and smoke was coming from the exhaust. When the driver and men were clear, I crawled in and turned the car off just as smoke started coming out of the dash.
The absolute beauty of this situation was that, for one brief moment in the history of the world, a group of people with very visible differences in ethnicities, backgrounds, morals, classes, styles, and so on…They each put away their prejudices, their immediate judgements and criticisms and perceptions of totally random strangers. They put away all their differences, thoughts, feelings, and opinions of others for a brief moment and worked so quickly and efficiently together to save someone that probably not a single one of us knew.
It was BEAUTIFUL. It was good and right. It restored my faith in humanity just a teeny molecule. I wish there was more of that.
**DRUM ROLL PLEASE**
The 1st Ever, Ever, Worst Preacher’s Wife Ever’s P.M.S. Conference and Retreat is here! There’s only room for 12 and it will Never Ever cost less than this one time. You get to spend the weekend in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains with room, meals, and four sessions (plus a lot of extra surprises) for only $180!!! (Does not include travel)
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(This is for Preacher’s Wives only.)
My husband is a cowboy preacher. He isn’t just a cowboy preacher. He IS a cowboy. He lives and breathes cowboy.
My man received this e-mail today:
“Every once in a while you are truly inspirational. The stories about
you sometimes get in the way. I love it when you are totally focused
on preaching God’s Word not the latest rodeo escapades. You have a
gift; stick to it……..Thank you.”
Don’t. Mess. With. My. Man.
And the other number one is:
God did not choose ANYBODY to be criticizers. Even when the criticism is veiled as a kindness.
I have seen that a great platform comes with great criticism. We get these messages all the time. I do not understand. If you don’t like something…Don’t read. Don’t listen to it. Don’t look at it. Or by ALL MEANS….send tacky e-mails.
I met the cutest three year old little guy yesterday. He was nervous and shy. He looked down at the floor and hid under his cowboy hat.
His parents introduced him to me and tried to get him to shake my hand and say, “Nice to meet you”.
He would not budge.
I knelt down in front of him and told him that he didn’t have to shake my hand. I understood that there were a lot of people in here. A lot of new people, and it was a little bit stranger danger in here.
He held up a small, plastic Batman for me to see. He put Batman’s cape over his head and said, “Batman is hiding.”
“Oh…Is Batman scared?” I asked.
He nodded his head yes.
“It’s okay to be scared when you go some place new with a lot of people you have never met. There are a LOT of people in here. I get scared in here too sometimes.” I told him, then I asked, “What’s your name?”
“Batman,” he said, softly.
“Are you sure that’s your name?” his dad asked.
“Yes! It’s Batman.”
I told him that I thought about changing my name sometimes. I didn’t tell him that I want it to be Lovie. Lovie didn’t seem as cool and brave as Batman.
“So…If you changed your name to Batman, and I sometimes think about changing my name…What do you think is a good, new name for me?”
He thought for a minute and then said confidently, “Spiderman.”
I’m pretty sure I’m okay with being called Spiderman.
“Awesome!” I said. “I like it! Can we shake hands and say ‘Nice to meet you’ now?”
He shook his head ‘yes’ and stuck out his tiny hand.
“Nice to meet you, Batman.”
“Nice to meet you, Spiderman.”
I have recently lost some weight and I have one group of jeans in my closet that I am hoping to fit back into some day and another group that I am continuously pulling up and make no sudden moves while wearing them for fear that they will drop to the floor.
Thursday, I went shopping for a couple of new pairs of jeans. I never can find jeans that fit right, so I had pretty much decided that I just don’t like jeans.
I try on several thousand pairs of jeans and they either fit me like grandma pants or my butt cleavage is hanging out.
I’m about to give up when I have an epiphany. My two most favorite pairs of jeans in the history of me were jeans that someone had given me and they were guy’s jeans!!!
I race to the men’s department and find several pair of jeans that look pretty gender neutral, yet still cool, and then race back to the women’s fitting room.
As I am trying on my man jeans…..Trying to have some nice relaxing time to myself….A lady comes into the dressing room next to me. She begins talking REALLY LOUDLY on her cell phone.
Her name is Suzanne. Her husband’s name is Mark. Her horse shoer’s name is Brian. (Brian is who she is speaking very loudly on the phone with.) Suzanne is thinking about buying a new horse for some girl, who’s name I actually can’t remember, to ride. The horse is, apparently, a pretty amazing show horse but it needs special shoes. Suzanne needs to schedule Brian, the horse shoer, to come shoe all of her horses but if she buys the show horse, she is going to sell another horse, but she doesn’t know if she is or not, so she guesses she should just call Brian back when she figures everything out.
So…From the protection of my very own dressing room where my peace and happy are being ruined, I say, “SSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
And then. I am afraid. To leave. The. Dressing Room.
I finally leave without any confrontation with Suzanne and TWO fabulous pairs of guy jeans that neither look like grandma pants or reveal all my butt cleavage to the world and I absolutely LOVE them.
The next day I have my eyebrows waxed. I enter the salon with two okay eyebrows that just need a little shaping up. The eyebrow waxer sends me back into the world with only one and a half eyebrows.
I’m pretty sure that eyebrow waxer’s name is Karma, and I have a suspicion that she was watching out for Suzanne….