She Speaks: Too much broccoli, more prayer

So it turns out that there's always something difficult going on for everybody. (Boy, will this be a bummer post, you're thinking. Well maybe not...)

Rocks hit our windshields. Traffic takes up our days. All our manmade stuff breaks. Even our God made stuff, like our gardens, get weeds and grow knarly and out of control. Our bodies and other people's bodies always have breakdowns going on, whether temporary like the flu, or ongoing like lupus or heart disease.

And then there's the bigger stuff that is kind of just continual. The jobs we were relieved to get or be promoted to get all wacky with discontent or demotions or a quirky co-worker or disillusionment with purpose in general. More serious disease or illness that weakens the body over time and steals life from not just one person but all who want that person to stay around to enjoy life with. Then there's the below the surface, hard to brush off, truth that every single relationship we are in is a good dose of hard work, whether it's simple forgiveness that they used an off tone or more devastating messes that consume every ounce of existance between two people.

I'm not even going to get into the worldwide crises of hunger, abortion, rape, genocide, disease, torment, abuse, slavery, or tyranny.

We are consumed with brokenness. Agreed? It's everywhere. If it's not for you, then somehow you must be playing that hop scotch game of life, avoiding the most dangerous squares, even though all of us at some point or on some days is inevitably going to be just that.

FYI. My gift is discernment. I'm doomed to write like this, though if you can make it to the end, there's always LIGHT. Can't help it ;). It's a gift, if you're willing to see it that way.

So on to my processing.

I had a friend over recently who is going through quite a lot. I actually admire her going through it. A lot of people stuff the kinds of things she is mentally and emotionally navigating and I know she'll come out on the other side of this or even just moment by moment in LIGHT instead of darkness.

My question for her was this: How do you live? How do you continue with life even though this difficult thing is consuming for you, understandably? How do you keep it from becoming an idol?

I ask for two reasons. One, I just think it is hard to function when incredibly hard things are happening. But two, even the things we hate, abhore, or want to resist with an outstretched arm can become our idols: our obsessions and ultimately what we "worship" b/c we think about them all the time and give all of our thoughts and efforts toward them.

I like what she said she'd learned. You get 20 minutes a day to process outloud. It's too hard to not talk about it so you must. But twenty minutes is enough to acknowledge it, work through a piece of it and then let it go again.

And to that, we added prayer. "Let it go" is a joke, right? I mean if it's really pain. If it's really sorrow. If it's really depressing. Then "letting it go" sounds kind of ridiculous. I mean, most of us are violently, wildly shaking and tossing our arms about trying to get this "thing" that is so difficult to un-stick on us, so just "letting it go" doesn't even seem like an option.

But then there is prayer.

If prayer is a piece to this puzzle, then this step of processing might just possibly bring a bit of freedom. Just this second as I am writing this I paused to try to think how to possibly sum up and capture what benefits to prayer there are when it comes to being able to let something go. And immediately came to mind a verse I just read the other day super randomly, maybe just possibly for this moment now.

Psalm 68:19 "Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens."

I think that might be one of the most beautiful pictures of God that I can imagine. The other night at community group (you know who you are!) the husband of my sweet very pregnant friend picked up their toddler and then she went to get the pack n play and he insisted on carrying that too. On Sundays at church, Jason almost always makes it a service to me to lug the kids around so it's easier for me to mingle with friends and so that he can keep a close eye on them. Even in little ways, when someone carrys our burdens, it is such a demonstration of love and we feel such gratitude and freedom for it. So in some spiritual, emotional and maybe sometimes physical sense this verse is suppose to relieve us as it becomes a reality. This verse says that is what he does. Do I have an exact explanation of what that means or feels like? No. But I bet you he longs to demonstrate that to each of us and to ask him to show us personally what that means and should be like for us.

Also, as far as what our little family is going through personally with trials, it is actually a pure waste sometimes how much we talk about things and resist "letting them go" or relinquishing them through prayer. Sometimes we can talk and talk and just circle like vultures but after some time (well maybe after 20 minutes!) we just are kind of over indulging. We're idolizing. Something we say we don't like we find ourselves obsessing over and it doesn't make sense. We're eating our broccoli (or whatever food you don't like). Then another helping. Then another. Then another. And soon we're stuffed with broccoli and want to throw up. (I happen to like broccoli but Jason would definitely be the one throwing up after one bite in this! He he).

So Jason and I's resolve and conviction lately is this: To pray. To not think too much of our chatterboxing that we can solve everything by talking or dialouging or counseling till our brains bleed. We need to encourage more by praying more. And figure things out more by praying more. And in this not only am I putting the burden back where it needs to be (on Jesus' shoulders) but I am letting my heart be transformed to the place it needs to be at the same time. So much happens in prayer. Aligning our heart with God. Talking it out with him. Giving up. Taking on the right heart. Letting him speak. Understanding. Growing. Confessing. Thankfulness for gospel. Trusting. Loving. Being loved. Letting gooooooo.

Less broccoli servings. More praying. Meal done.

She Speaks: My Thing

I've been a little silly on my evening outings with friends lately. Put my kids in bed and get me in a room full of women and I get a little naturally tipsy, no alcohol necessary.

Most recently I was out for an evening baby shower for a lovely, glowing pregnant friend of mine. The beauty who hosted it loves to paint and as I went from living room to kitchen to bedroom, she had wall after wall decorated with her own paintings. That was definitely her "thing." Painting. I thought it was sweet how she could make her whole home beautiful by her very own hand. I went over at some point to grab an appetizer and was admiring all the cooking another friend had done to make the night special. I was scared to pick them up they were so cutely done. In fact, I did end up dropping one as I picked it up too timidly. *Sigh*. Cooking is definitely her thing and thankfully she's moving in with me for five weeks soon ;). You know who you are. Anyhow, above each little treat on the table was a cute little tag with a description of the food underneath a personalized design for the shower. My friend who made them would like to do designs for every aspect of parties like this, from tags to invites to thank you notes. She's good at it and it is quickly becoming her "thing".

So you see a little pattern forming, right? I got to joking with some of my friends at the party, as I admired all the handiwork. And even as we joked, I realized every single person I was talking with that night had a noteworthy signature "thing" that everyone knows they are good at. Personal training, sewing, photography, homemaking, you name it. My silliness at this point all became directed at how hilarious I found it to be that literally everyone's "thing" was obvious except for mine. Especially as shower gift after shower gift unveiled more gifts and talents of each woman in the room. (My gift incidentally was $ towards the group gift). Thankfully, with a lot of sarcastism, I enjoyed letting my jaw drop each time, each "thing" topping the next in awe and excellence.

When in laughter I pressed my friends for what could possibly be my "thing", they finally declared one for me. Scrapbooking. NO. That is stupid. Okay then, Legacy. "Legacy?" you ask. I asked too. Because I like do things that point to legacy - scrapbook, take pictures, journal, teach, write, and create traditions and memories for our family. In and of themselves, these things are not "wow" and unique but altogether they are certainly an expression of the deepest places in me. I haven't been able to dismiss this label since then and Jason confirmed it as well when I got home.

So there it is! I have a "thing"!

Today I was trying to figure out what it is that got to me, underneath all of the joking around about it all. I mean, it was funny. But also there was a heart issue going on in me. I do want my life to be special. I want to stand out and do big and wonderful and noteworthy and awe inspiring things. But is this okay? What's that all about anyway? Isn't that me trying to "find" life when the Bible says that whoever wants to find life must lose it? This means that I have to let go of all I'm wanting in order to find what true life looks like in the eyes of God. I think even Christians, for sure, get very much caught up in being on top, in doing big incredible things and we order and arrange and elevate what we think is GREAT. We all want to be great.

There's a story in Matthew 20 where the mother of two of the disciples comes up to Jesus and basically wants to know if they will be greatest in heaven. Reading it, I'm sure we're all like, Geez. That was bold...and ridiculous. I can't believe she asked that. But basically she's saying, Hey my sons are great right? And I think we all kind of want other people and also Jesus to say that about us.

I mean, when I am jealous that other people have "things" or envy that they do xyz amazingly, I am that mother of the sons of Zebedee coming up to Jesus saying, Hey can you make say that I'm the greatest one?

But here's how amazing Jesus is. Check out his thoughts a few verses later in Matt 20:25-28 "But Jesus called them to him and said, 'You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. IT SHALL NOT BE SO AMONG YOU. BUT WHOEVER WOULD BE GREAT AMONG YOU MUST BE YOUR SERVANT, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, even as the Son of Man not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many."

Wooow. I was randomly letting my mind wander around today and thought 'hey i might write about the whole "my thing" idea i was thinking about at the shower' and then i sat down to read the Bible and journal and was reminded of this Scripture and it just all came together. This is what Jesus has to say about greatness.

Do I want to be great? Do I want to be first? Then although it sounds wildly crazy and impossibly ridiculous...the way to greatness is humilty and laying down my life to be THE LEAST OF THESE. Jesus, you defy everything I know in this world. You are so OTHER that I barely know how to wrap my mind around your truth, though when I encounter it like this, my Spirit declares THIS IS SO TRUE AND I AM IN AWE.

To me, Jesus declares "Be not jealous. Do not seek to be above. To compete. To top. Lay down your life, becoming the least of these. Serve. Become a slave for the benefit of others. And this will be your greatness."

My mind is blowing. And yet my Spirit is rejoicing and soaring. With or without a "thing", I run in the path of your truths for you have set my heart free.

Mrs. Speaks "My Mud Pit"

I think i generally avoid books on marriage.

I'm not proud of this. I mean, I've got a ring on my finger, I love my husband, and I want to grow with him over time. It's just that the thought of opening one of them feels ho hum. However, my mother in law recently bought a bunch of copies of a great one she is reading and gave me one. It's called Sacred Marriage. And I'm realizing it's been a little too long since I've been counseled on marriage. My accountability group would certainly concur that this does not mean that I haven't been wrestling like a contestant on survivor in the mud pits over worthy battles in my marriage though. My relationship with Jason is constantly on the forefront of my mind and the Holy Spirit won't let me wrestle free from his refinement for me in this sin area. So it's funny that I've avoided certain written counsel over it.

So the question I'm putting on the table today is something I've been chewing on the first three chapters:

Isn't it ridiculous to look for something in humans that only God can provide?

This is the constant shove I feel from the Holy Spirit on my heart concerning Jason. I have a feeling that my writing on seeing Jason as an idol in my life - so much more than what to expect from a husband - will be a topic on my blog for a long time. Not because I am not dealing with it, but because it's actually the biggest root I have ever had to weed out of my life by the power of Jesus in me. My decisions, my reactions, my hurt feelings, my pursuits, my love withheld, my expressions, and my sighs all say:

I am in this to benefit from you.
I am in this to experience a perfect relationship with you.
I am in this to be served by you.
I believe I can find fulfillment from you.

Does this ring a bell, wives? Or maybe you just read that and go, "Wo, she's got issues." That's fine. I think I do ;) But I bet some of you do too. And if you don't, keep reading so you can understand your friends' hearts who struggles like me.

The headline under the title of this book says, "What if God designed marriage to make us holy more than to make us happy?" True. But I've heard that statement so many times it's kind of bug to read it again. I have this super judgmental place in me that hears something like that and immediately my inner eyes begin rolling and tisking. But as I read the first three chapters the Holy Spirit began to unravel my irritation and started pouring grace in my hands for this probably over used Christian chatter. I heard, It IS true. So let it be true and don't let your heart be seared from it just because it has been said a thousand times.

So I kept reading. And the discussion behind that statement ministered more and more to me. The main thesis is this: "...we use our marriage to explore God. If we are consumed with highlighting where our spouses are falling short, we will miss the divine mysteries of marriage and the lessons it has to teach us." There are two main ways to view marriage - as a way to be fulfilled by that person (happiness) or as a relationship which God can use to show us about Him no matter what amount of benefit it brings to us (holiness). Our relationship with God will outlive our marriage and will carry into eternity, so therefore that earthly relationship is what this author would call the "penultimate rather than the ultimate reality." The "end" is to get to God as we enjoy, struggle with, pursue this earthly companionship.

There was a section that talked about in earlier church history there was seemingly an unofficial stance that married Christians were a sort of second class Christians who had comprimised integrity, as opposed to nuns and monks. "Most of the Christian classics were written by monks and nuns for monks and nuns. The married could at best feebly try to simulate a single pursuit of God; the thought of pursuing God through marriage wasn't really given serious consideration; instead, the emphasis was largely on pursuing God in spite of marriage."

I was so surprised to read this because prior to marriage I thought I was actually pretty great and since marriage the Lord has done nothing but reveal more and more layers of who I really am apart from him. The author goes on to say:

"If you want to be free to SERVE Jesus, there's no question - stay single. Marriage takes a lot of time. But if you want to become LIKE Jesus, I can't imagine a better thing to do than get married."

My goodness. Amen to that. Although I certainly would give myself no credit for being like Jesus since unlike Paula Abdul, all it seems like I do is take continual three steps back, I can feel in my core that at least I am learning the truth about myself. And anything good happening out of that truth is the Holy Spirit claiming ground.

I am learning to see marriage like this. But I've gotta tell you, it's not like a sweet little Bible study early in the morning light with a cute coffee mug and happy Christian music blistfully playing as I close my eyes and my spirit soars with Jesus. (Well, the coffee part is usually true). It's more like a tug of war and every morning I get tears in my clothing. I read these chapters, underline, agree in Spirit, and then ten minutes later I'm selfish, annoyed, grasping, irritable and crying out from the fountain in my heart, "It's about me!!!" Ah. Sin nature. So lovely!

Thank goodness for grace: God's unlimited unconditional patience for this looong journey of learning the humility of being like Jesus. Jesus does with me exactly what I begrudgingly withhold from my marriage - he covers me in grace, keeps loving me, keeps pursuing me, and never gives up hope for what he wants to see in me. Jesus you are teaching me who to be. How is your love so great?

And Jason, my love, I'm meditating, I'm thinking, I'm praying, I'm constantly relinquishing these over the top expectations rising up in me and if Jesus Christ is who we believe he is, this WILL get rooted out. Keep believing in Him in me. Join in that tug of war on behalf of me. I love you.

She Speaks

I'm changing up my blog a little bit because I find myself thinking, living, experiencing, learning, and being transformed in four different categories of my life all wrapped up into Kelly Chandler Cowan. I'm a 31 year old woman, who feels girlishly young enough to still be grasping at what that word means as I gain years on my age. I'm a wife of eight years who has walked with a faithful husband through a move across country, job changes, babies, constant decisions, and a never ending journey gifted by the Holy Spirit for us to refine one another for His glory. I'm a mama of three who's finally enjoying that crown on my head. And I'm a believer in Jesus' testimony to be God who came down to us in all humility and grace to save us from ourselves and to show me how to live like he did. Woman, wife, mama, believer. I generally find myself living, moving, and having my being in each of these four pieces of me. And I see that I write out of these parts of me as well. So I think for a while when I post, I will speak from the viewpoint of woman, wife, mama and believer as you continue to track with me as I meditate on this life gifted to me.

Starfish

I hate to wake up early in the morning. It must have been the thought of being alone on an adventure while all the little ones slept soundly that got me up and going. It might have been the empty streets, filled with a slightly hazy, humid air with the light just starting to think about breaking it into a clear day. Or maybe all those shots I had already put a box around in my mind and wanted to bring into reality onto my photo card. For all of these and more I nearly bounced out of bed with quiet cat like feet, into my black stretch pants, a tank, and some tennis shoes to take off for a early morning photography adventure.

I closed my door and started the Honda, wishing I could have put a sound buffer even on those noises, wincing a little with a glance in my rearview at the windows at the condo above. It was 6:45am and Kanah, Grace, and Salem would probably rest another hour if not interrupted. It would be best for me mentally if they were asleep while I was gone, so I didn’t have to think about what mothering roles might need doing. I stopped quickly at the little market and got a coffee with creamer and dashed back to my car to be on my way. Even just being in a Honda Accord brought me all kinds of nostalgic happy feelings that my husband would laugh at me for having. Given a “would you rather” car scenario I would take an Accord over any of his Road and Track indulgences any day ;).

My mind quickly scanned through all the images in my mind I had preserved as stopping points for my drive. I tried the highway bridge first but chickened out when I realized there was not a very safely designed pedestrian walkway. Every time we crest this bridge, which links the mainland to the beach islands and crosses over breathtaking green grassed marshes, I breathe in the delights of east coast beach vacationing and instantly feel happy. I have always wanted to stop at this point and capture it. Hit with that small defeat, I wondered if this was all a bust or if I was cut out for photo adventures. But looking towards Sullivans Island I picked up my pace again and soon found myself wandering along the marshes, practicing changing my f stop to make either the foreground or backgrounds blurry. I had a series of obsessive shots of the lock straight docks that lead over probably a hundred yards of marshy grassy land before ending with a drop into the canal. I was back in a stride and forgot my disappointment completely.

Feeling satisfied, I stopped next on the small neighborly bridge to Sullivans, enjoying cropping the swerves of the coastal surf below and capturing the rising light hitting only certain parts of the picture. I was patient, wishing away little details from my mental box, like runners and frolicking dogs and the like. I began to wish to be down on that quiet beach, so I drove into the adjacent neighborhood and cruised slowly, passing alluring double decked screened in porches with whirling ceiling fans and rows of rockers. Palm trees and twisted oaks leaned and craddled the shapes of the homes. As my eyes took in each dwelling with a curious joy, I couldn’t remember the last time I had been off on a journey like this one. Searching for a pathway to the beach and enjoying each moment along the way felt like a freshness I had missed from years ago. I finally saw a sandy walkway, drove up closer to make sure it was for the public, and parked my car next to a house where a lady with curlers sat staring at me from her porch chair. I felt slightly intrusive and brave all at once and parked my car to sneak through the dunes.

I walked through what felt like my very own “wardrobe” through the dunes and landed on a very desolate area of beach. Even at 7am, the heat hit me hard and I wished for a rubberband, but quickly decided to not care, as the beauty and isolation welcomed me for my little adventure.

I developed a small obsession right away for the orange colored seaweed clusters that had lined themselves up along the beach, probably from that morning’s high tide. Like from the hands of flower girls down an aisle, they lay dropped one after the other as far as I could see. Crouching and lining up my lines right and searching for new angles, I felt so free to enjoy capturing. I am truly a Capturer. It sounds like such a princess word or something, but I find utter DELIGHT in capturing expressions and beauty and moments and scenes that make my heart flutter and click with connection. It was a moment like that as I stood under the dunes and walked along the seaweed and peered out at shrimp boats and let my eyes measure the almost silly enormity of the southern style pillered and multi-porched beach front homes.

I let my tennis shoes get wet as I got closer and I found myself begin to pray outloud. Praying outloud might possibly be the most therapeutic and joyous and comforting and revelational thing I do, whether around my kitchen or there in that perfectly isolated spot. I talked to Jesus about my marriage, my heart, my kids. I felt very small. I felt humbled. I felt keenly aware of my faults and my tendencies for making big emotional and relational messes. We talked about all of that as my treads went along, sticking lightly to the muddy sand beneath fingernail deep waters. It didn’t matter how heavy the sentence that flowed off my lips. As soon as it was spoken it seemed to feel lighter and seemed to return to me from the Lord in grace, in an undeserved word of hope.

And then there were the starfish. They were alive. I found one, then another, then another. When I came upon the first one, my heart stopped and I crouched down above it. I thought it might be dead and then as I waited I saw that it was moving with an ever persistent, yet seemingly still pace back towards the ocean, which was reaching its long arms from stretching and thinned out waves only a few feet away. Then the starfish reached up one of its legs, curling it up into the air with slow control, like a graceful dancer, and I decided to help it. I picked it up and it began to curl itself backwards over my hand, and fighting my every urge in my creeped out being, I set about tossing it as far as I was able back into the waves. And then I did the same with the next and the next.

And about that time the Spirit inside of me seemed to speak about those starfish. See how they are on the edge of this ocean. Alive and crawling ever so slowly towards something great. And they are creations, given life and strength and everything they need to live and move and have their being by their Creator God. And God made it so that they could enjoy this big and beautiful ocean, far bigger and greater than they. And they are crawling. And I felt myself realizing that I am crawling with God. The things I had prayed about myself and who I am felt so heavy leaving my lips, like I had prayed these things about change a hundred million times. And to see all of those little legs on the bottom of that starfish moving ever so slowly and beautifully towards that great ocean felt like my walk with God every single day. And that’s what it’s supposed to be. I wish for God to pick me up and toss me into his greatness, that would be a lot easier. But he gave me these little legs to make little strides, with him, by his strength each and every day and to seek his vast greatness and glory before me.

I stood facing the ocean, thankful for the starfish. For our talk. For the picture of myself that gave me peace about what to do with where I am and who I am. I knew my adventure was felt complete that morning. With all I had taken in and discovered and enjoyed, it was there looking at those starfish that I myself felt captured up. God found me there and I let him show me what he saw about me. And I believed him. With that peace, I knew I could go away from this morning journey and get back to my life, crawling and inch towards my big and great God and enjoying the many more adventures he has planned for me.

I'm in the South

It's not like the scenery is even much to take a picture of here in the flat Piedmont, but when I am here it feels like it must be my favorite place in the world. Not favorite like a resort on Kannapali beach on Maui. Not favorite like the beach house at Wild Dunes. Not favorite like travels to Europe and Asia that we always dream about for down the road. More like favorite because it feels so good. Favorite because home is more special to me than most anything.



This is the longest amount of time I have spent here in a very long time, and not having been here in over a year, I am filling each day with as much southern bliss as I can. I have taken a lot of pictures and want to share what has been going on so far.

Mom and I arrived Friday night with all three kids after a much needed layover in Chicago for a happy meal, ring around the rosy (until Grace threw up) and changing lots of diapers.

Saturday we spent most of the day hearing shrieks of "Cassie!" and "Pepper!" although they mostly prefer to refer to both dogs as Cassie. The girls visited with Pop and Uncle T (my brother Travis) a while that morning and then we took the girls to my favorite park, Freedom Park, just across the street from the Geneva Court house I grew up in. It's not the closest one to my parents' house now, but it's the only place I wanted to bring the girls.

Sunday brought a slew of family members: Grandma Doris, Aunt Ruthie, Aunt Becky, and Uncle Pace. The girls were angels, which was a little confusing since they usually take a while to adjust, but I'll take angel over handful for sure.


Monday morning we all went to play at Granddaddy and Gram's house, the highlight being the kitty cat and the yoga exercise ball in the backyard. The lowlight being the 10 or so quarter sized mosquito bites I got on my legs. This pic is of Kanah playing with an old set of doll furniture at Grandmother Chandler's that I used to play with. These are the kinds of flooding memories and feelings I like to be surprised with when I come here. And to watch them play with something I played with is mesmerizing. I also got to go out with my super busy little brother Travis, aka Uncle T (you can see me making a T with my two forarms, like we do for the girls when he's around).


Tuesday Salem and I headed to Grandma Doris' place. She drowns me in refreshments when I come over, which I love. We had good conversations about most of our family members, what she is doing these days (mostly making visits to people at church), and a good dialogue about the concept of "dropping in" in the south. NWers just don't do that. She rolled around on the floor w/ Salem and I got some great shots. I mostly just liked listening to her accent and anticipating her next question - she is greaaaat at questions. (Which you know I love).


Tuesday evening I got to hang out with some of my favorite people in the world: Robbi, Janet, Ali and Rian Fischer. I don't even know what to write about them b/c it will fall short. Let's just say I felt incredibly blessed that they let me come over and just banter back and forth for a while. xoxo to them.

And today...Jason got here!!! Yay! He's glad to be here. I like to see him on vacation b/c he's a different person. He's only three hours into his trip and already he's off having lunch w/ a friend. It will be a continual worldwind but we love it.

More to come...!

I am the Lord's servant

So I'm in Luke. The book of Luke in the Bible, that is. I realized as soon as I wrote "I'm in Luke" that that is such a Christian thing to say but sounds so normal unless you have no idea what the Bible is all about. Anyhow, I just got going and it seems every time I am reading there's a one liner that sidetracks me for like seven days. So I'll tell you about two of them and they are both about the ever popular Ms Mary, who I have really become a big fan this week.

I have to tell you, quickly, how I generally have felt about Jesus' mother Mary up until now. She was a teen virgin from a small town with not a lot going on until this crazy important job of being pregnant with God was given to her. I have always respected her and admired her response to this overwelming responsibility but I also have kind of kept my distance from her. It annoys me big time how the church freaks out over her. All the statues and paintings and hail marys, yada yada. I think if she were here today she'd kind of be embarrassed actually. There is a church near my house called Mary Queen of Peace. I don't get it. One time I stopped a church in Florida called Mary Queen of the Universe just to go in and see how wacky it was. It totally baffles me how a story that is so awe-inspiring about how Jesus who was GOD decided to humble himself from all of his glory on a throne and become a man - even more, a baby - so that he could live among us, give his life away, and then die undeservingly to give us a way back into reconciled relationship with him -- how, that story then got twisted to become about Mary being God's mom who has special powers is DISTORTED and actually more directly, Satanic. Okay. Slight tangent. Big picture: I think in being so annoyed with Christians who are strangely all about Mary, I have avoided paying much attention to her at all.

All that said, here are two amazing revelations I got while studying Luke's story of Mary...

When Mary found out that she was chosen for the honor that no one else in human history would ever be charged with - being the mother of Jesus, who was God - she responded ultimately with a line that stopped me from casually reading steadily through the verses. She said in Luke 1:28 -

"I AM THE LORD'S SERVANT."

And then she said "May it be to me as you have said." I know I have read that story like a zillion times. Everyone has pretty much. But this time it feels like God read it outloud to me because I kind of got chills.

Mary is looking at her sovereign God in the face and saying, Okay. I know that you ordain my life and all my days and this is what you have decided for me, and I am your servant, so I accept what you have for me and I will do it. It is just such a crazy amazing response to God! It immediately made me look at my life, jot down one liners of little things that are hard or overwelming or seemingly impossible in my life that he has allowed into the responsibility of my hands and then after each one I wrote in response "I am the Lord's servant."

I have three children under age three...
I AM THE LORD'S SERVANT.
I don't really have any free time to myself but...
I AM THE LORD'S SERVANT.
I am a stay at home mom, which doesn't get much glory but...
I AM THE LORD'S SERVANT.
It is very difficult to have good character with the relational stress I am under but...
I AM THE LORD'S SERVANT.
I am tempted to only be graceful and kind when it is returned to me but...
I AM THE LORD'S SERVANT.

My list could go on with a hundred things. I tend to make so much of my life about what works for me or what is beneficial to me, but when it comes down to it, I am the Lord's servant. That is my first duty. And not out with rolled eyes and dragging feet or out of obligation. I GET to be the Lord's servant. I get to know him and be known by him, which is the greatest relationship of all. Words can't do justice to what that means to me.

A little bit later in the chapter after Mary visits Elizabeth, there is a song that starts off, "Mary said:". Yes just those two words stopped me. In response to all of this news, the pregnancy, the sharing of news with Elizabeth, the probable ridicule from some of the people in her life, Mary SPOKE. She had a SONG on her lips. And her words were praise and glory to the Lord.

I was telling Jason this today on our date and was relating it to our lives and he said, "I wonder what people would say our song is for our lives right now." When people ask how we are doing or when they see our kids and say silly things like, "Wow, you have your hands full," what do we say? What is our song that we chant? Do we say things like, "Yeah it's wild, I'm hanging on" or do we use our words, the song of our lives, to reflect praise to the God that gave US life and our children life and brought into existence this beautiful family that we get to love and raise and enjoy for years and years to come? What do we say?

What is the song on your lips that you sing about your life? I'll have to watch and think about my own. I don't want my song to be a series of complaints and disdainful comments about the precious blessings in my lives. I want to have a song. Lord put it on my lips. Let me sing it for you. My one request is that it not be insincere, but full of truth in my heart as I say it. When I think about my life and what you have done I want to also say,

"My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant."