I want to be a Woman of Faith

If you asked me to leap
Out of my boat on the crashing waves
If You ask me to go
Preach to the lost world that Jesus saves

I’ll go, but I cannot go alone
Cause I know I’m nothing on my own
But the power of Christ in me makes me strong
Makes me strong

Cause when I’m weak, You make me strong
When I’m blind, You shine Your light on me
Cause I’ll never get by living on my own ability
How refreshing to know You don’t need me
How amazing to find that you want me
So I’ll stand on Your truth, and I’ll fight with Your strength
Until You bring the victory, by the power of Christ in me

If You ask me to run
And carry Your light into foreign land
If You ask me to fight
Deliver Your people from satan’s hand

To reach out with Your hands
To learn through Your eyes
To love with the love of a savior
To feel with Your heart
And to think with Your mind
I’d give my last breath for Your glory

(Casting Crowns, In Me, Lifesong)

Three years ago, I was recovering from giving birth to Kellar. He was only a couple of weeks or months old and I started wrestling with some feelings. I don't remember if these feelings were brought on by this song, but these lyrics certainly express the outcome of my wrestlings.

Let's go back, shall we?

I do remember that Kellar was just a wee thing, and I started feeling like God was gently pressing a question upon my heart: "What would you do if I asked you to...?" At first, I tried to clarify the question: If you asked me to do what, God? If you asked me to sing for you? Keep leading the bible study? Stop leading the Bible study? Move? Have more children? Be a missionary?

I became convinced that it must be the worst, albeit, most exciting possibility: be a missionary. I say worst because the idea of leaving my family, my mother in particular, my friends, my safe home, my familiar city...and going somewhere new and remote and friendless was terrifying to me. What if I became a missionary and missed my brother or sister's wedding? Or their children being born one day? What if I left and couldn't handle missing my mom so sorely? WHAT IF I COULDN'T GET THE GOOD KIND OF MILK?! (Shaking off the hysteria.) Ahem. All of these questions were relentless and scary. But the questions didn't cease.

I finally realized that God wasn't going to clarify His question for me yet. That the real question was "Would you do whatever I asked you to do...for My sake?" Whoa there. And I thought it was scary before.

Would I be willing to agree now, as a young mother and shaky but dedicated Christian, to do whatever God asked of me down the road. Would I sign over my plans and dreams and move when He told me where to go?

My mom's council was wise and characteristic of her: Pray. If it doesn't seem clear, pray some more. So I did.

And like I said before, I wrestled, because I didn't like the implications this conversation with God held. I picked my scariest possibilitiy, to use for mere example. I implored God, "What if I miss David's wedding?? Karen's children being born?? What if I really really really miss my mom and cry 'cause I can't handle being there without her?" (I never went away to college; it doesn't show much, does it?) But God didn't tell me how He would address those possibilities, He just kept asking if I'd agree no matter what. (No, not with a voice in my head. A pressing on my heart. Let's not get carried away.)



So finally I caved. With tears and choked voice I told Him that I would go where He wanted me to go and do whatever He wanted me to do. But that He needed to understand my limitations, my issues. And that I would agree, but that these issues would be paramount and deeply effect my attitude when the time came that He called. And that I would need His strength and provision to take me where my issues forbade me to go.

Three years have passed, and so far I've received no clear call to change my immediate circumstances. I've agreed to cut back on being on stage during worship time, continued and changed my Bible study leading, gained new friends, shed others, agreed to try homeschooling our children. I've started gaining confidence and drive and peace. I've started really loving people. And I've started writing again.

I asked my mom awhile back if I should try to be a writer. And her council was wise and characteristic of her: you are a writer. Making money doesn't really make it much better, but don't tell the professional authors that. Keep writing and use your craft to bring glory to God. Enjoy it for what it is.

So I have. Oh, the practice and enjoyment I've earned.

All this to say that no, I still do not know exactly what God is preparing me for. But this morning, I thought about one more intricacy that has kept me wondering as I move on down the path of life, "Why has God allowed me to have so many children at such a young age, and in so little time?" Matt and I planned on waiting several years before trying for children, and I knew next to nothing when we started. Each time we found out we were having another, I kept wondering if I'd be ready for it. But at this point, I've started realizing what having children can do to you, if you're willing for them to mold you: they can firm up your squishy, selfish, wimpy parts and soften up your tough, rigid, protective parts. My kids have made me sweeter, stronger, gentler, more patient, more lavish, more modest, more content, more determined, more creative, more motivated, more protective, more loyal, more capable, a better speaker, a better listener, a better musician, a better wife, a better friend, and yes, a better Christian.

Perhaps many would argue that children are not means to an end, that children are precious gifts in and of themselves...and with these wannabe antagonists I would agree. But looking back on the me of 6 years ago, I am quite sure that God has a double entendre in these fabulous kids. He's been getting me in shape. And it doesn't really matter for what. He and I have already had that conversation and the answer is "yes."





The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say. ~Anaïs Nin

Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass. ~Anton Chekhov

To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it's about, but the inner music the words make. ~Truman Capote, McCall's, November 1967

A Playground for Big Kids

"Yes we are [friends] and I do like to pass the day with you in serious and inconsequential chatter. I wouldn't mind washing up beside you, dusting beside you, reading the back half of the paper while you read the front. We are friends and I would miss you, do miss you and think of you very often. I don't want to lose this happy space where I have found someone who is smart and easy and doesn't bother to check her diary when we arrange to meet."



So I've been feeling particularly happy recently. It's been transforming my mind, my actions, my decisions, and my life in general. It's kind of like living with the Party Version of myself. My rigidness is melting away, like crayons left in the glovebox too long.

It's a wonderful, freeing feeling. Like being transported back to high school, just without the insecurity, the drama, and with much, MUCH cooler friends. (Whew, is anyone else feeling overwhelmed by all the analogies??)



Tonight I played at the park with friends and family. Usually I'm just a spectator, but tonight, in response to Kellar's pleading, I agreed to go down the twirly slide with him. I've been trying to play a little more, now that Dawson isn't so tiny and helpless. After the twirly slide, Nadia begged me to go down one with her. I convinced her to go for the bumpy slide instead, as my uber long legs get bent into uncomfortable positions when I go on the twirly slide. (Is that non-fun of me, or WHAT?) I love the bumpy slide, though. It usually flings me off at the end of it, so that I fly, legs straight and poised, to land like an Olympic gymnast in the shifting stones. But tonight, it was not to be. Luckily Nadia has a pretty good sense of humor, because when we sat down on the slide, we scooted off into the drop zone...and sat there. I wiggled, I wriggled, I screeched forward about 4 inches. We sat there. We giggled. After all, we're girls, and girls giggle. Plus, Edie was behind us and I knew that in a moment, she'd be facing the same problems.

Anyway, we finally all scooched off the slide, giggling the whole way. It wasn't a marathon play session, as it was late and the mosquitoes were making mince meat of our small ones. The thing I felt I'd achieved was a carefree spirit. I'd played around, exchanged witty zingers, pushed my friends, and basically been silly. It was GREAT. Seriously, who knew that adults could have this much fun and still be considered responsible?





And one of the best parts about this big happy friendship is that it's upped my confidence in who I am. Largely diminished are former feelings of needing to act a certain way to please others. Until recently, I had no idea that I went so far out of my way to do certain things just because "that's what you're supposed to do." I feel less encumbered and less stressed. I feel like I can finally be myself, not just with these close friends, but with lots of people. And this is coming from someone who has always striven to be authentic.

Well, as I'm in a quote-y mood, y'all get to read some other people's words now. And as I'm feeling and confident and happy, I must say, I feel darn good about this decision. I hope you feel as at peace about it as I do:

"Every day we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heart-ache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty. Every man, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths. We all derive from the same source. There is no mystery about the origin of things. We are all part of creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians; we have only to open up, to discover what is already there." ~Henry Miller, Sexus

The best way to gain self-confidence is to do what you are afraid to do.

My heart filled with love, flowing over with joy, my own little drum that I like to march by! ~Gunda Fijnje-Nolan

I feel my body, my mind, weighted down - all is heavy - but my blood, my inner fire, my passion, the little unburdened kid in me, patiently wait to burst free. -Drew Sirtors

**My grandfather has been sending me chunks of scripture in The Message translation. I liked this one particularly for the fresh and happy words it uses, and partially for the funny imagery of heaving bulls onto altars. With it, I bid you a fond goodnight. Ciao ciao, brown cow!

Psalm 51:7-19, The Message

^7-15 Soak me in your laundry and I'll come out clean,
scrub me and I'll have a snow-white life.
Tune me in to foot-tapping songs,
set these once-broken bones to dancing.
Don't look too close for blemishes,
give me a clean bill of health.
God, make a fresh start in me,
shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life.
Don't throw me out with the trash,
or fail to breathe holiness in me.
Bring me back from gray exile,
put a fresh wind in my sails!
Give me a job teaching rebels your ways
so the lost can find their way home.
Commute my death sentence, God, my salvation God,
and I'll sing anthems to your life-giving ways.
Unbutton my lips, dear God;
I'll let loose with your praise.

^16-17 Going through the motions doesn't please you,
a flawless performance is nothing to you.
I learned God-worship
when my pride was shattered.
Heart-shattered lives ready for love
don't for a moment escape God's notice.

^18-19 Make Zion the place you delight in,
repair Jerusalem's broken-down walls.
Then you'll get real worship from us,
acts of worship small and large,
Including all the bulls
they can heave onto your altar!

Christmas in August: Pandora, Internet Radio

Bear with me. I am not one of those weird people that start listening to Christmas music in the middle of the summer and get happier and happier as the year progresses and fewer people give out startled/dismayed/disgusted looks.

Oh wait. Yes, I am.

But bear with me. I'm not normally this bad...it's just that I have a new friend this year: Pandora, Internet Radio. And so instead of having to lug out my hefty collection of Christmas cds, all I have to do is point and click. And when some heavy duty cleaning is necessary, you just can't ask for better accompaniment than Jazz Christmas, or maybe a little "Baby It's Cold Outside."

Speaking of which, I love babies. Especially baby boys. And one in particular that I like to pay homage to, no matter the time of year.

His name is Jesus. No, not that one up there. The one of which I speak. Maybe you know Him, maybe you don't. Maybe you believe in Him, maybe you don't. Come along with me whilst I muse over one of the things I find so touching about Jesus.

Before Jesus came to earth as an infant, He knew it would be hard. He'd never done it before, but He knows everything--He's God. Now what gets me is why Someone who is immortal, all-powerful, and all-knowing would choose to come be a person with bruisable, breakable skin and choose to subject Himself to humiliation, beatings, and ultimately, a hideous death on a cross. Even moreso, why God would choose to send his beloved Son to do this. If you are anything like me, you wince a little when your kid gets a papercut. And even beyond that, can you imagine turning away from your child when he's in pain?

But that's what God chose to do when Jesus died on the cross. Turned away so that death could momentarily overtake Him. And it's the why that gets me every time. Because He loved me. Because He wants us with Him so badly, but there was no way we could be close to Him, we being so ratty and nasty, chock full of mean and rotten thoughts and actions and motivations...and Him being so pure and perfect. So He made a way where there was no way, and sent His precious child to take on the challenge of living the way we live--but not sinning, of giving of Himself His entire life--even when it was hard, and ultimately, of accepting our punishment--which He did nothing to deserve. How sweet that not even death could crush Him, what a wondrous, light-filled, love-drenched moment that must have been for Father and Son when Jesus arose to life again.

It boggles my mind and tenders my heart. As I once asked one of my young friends, How could you not love someone who would do that for you?

John 1:1-5 & 9

The Word Became Flesh

¹In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. ²He was with God in the beginning.³Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. ⁴In him was life, and that life was the light of men. ⁵The light shines in the darkness, but the dark ness has not understood it. ⁹The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world.

Light of the world,
You stepped down into darkness.
Opened my eyes, let me see.
Beauty that made this heart adore you
Hope of a life spent with you
And here I am to worship,
here I am to bow down,

here I am to say that you're my God
You're altogether lovely,
altogether worthy,
altogether wonderful to me.

King of all days,
oh, so highly exalted.
Glorious in heaven above.
Humbly you came
to the earth you created
All for love's sake became poor.

And here I am to worship
Here I am to bow down
Here I am to say that you're my God
You're altogether lovely.
altogether worthy,
altogether wonderful to me.

I'll never know how much it cost
To see my sin upon that cross
I'll never know how much it cost
To see my sin upon that cross
And I'll never know how much it cost
To see my sin upon that cross
No, I'll never know how much it cost

Here I am to worship
Here I am to bow down
Here I am to say that you're my God
You're altogether lovely
Altogether worthy
Altogether wonderful to me

And the Grand Prize was...

To all of you who may or may not be dying to know what our Grand Prize was for our House Name winner, I present you with this:

It's not the real one. The real one is rust colored and even cooler than this one. But this is basically it. My fairy godmother picked it up for our winner and Miz Amber was pleased as punch about it.

Now you know.

To Feel like Lavender

When I was 16 years old, my family went on vacation to visit my aunt in Seattle. In her yard she grew lavender, and before we went home, she allowed me to pick as much as I wanted to take back with me. I couldn't take that much, since I'd have to find a way to carry it on board the airplane with me and get it home without crushing it too badly. But I had a small-but-sturdy paper bag from some store we had visited, topped with stiff handles. I cut off what lavender I could, and snuggled it securely down into this bag. Since I was intent on not smashing it, I refused to put it inside anything else, so the smell of it wafted around us--and probably the rest of the plane--and accompanied us on our homeward trip.

The trip to Seattle had been a wonderful, awe-inspiring, tantalizing time for me. We took all sorts of pictures, had all sorts of adventures, laughed and moaned and ate overly-expensive food, and I wrote and wrote and wrote. I really feel like this trip helped me to understand myself better, helped me to start coming into my own. I was without my friends, without a guy to hold my hand, and was able to think and write almost entirely without interruption, since there were few people to distract me. It was magical. To this day, the smell of real lavender does a number on me. It's magical. It somehow represents simultaneous feelings of enthrallment, security, hope, vision, freedom, beauty, and fun.

I have this friend. She makes me feel like lavender.



In the last couple of months, I have been learning a lot about God. I have been learning how much He loves me and that He has some really fun and amazing things that He's going to be calling on me to do. I don't really know what they are, but something amazing has been happening to me: I have started getting happy. A happy that doesn't rely a whole lot on what exactly is going on, a happy that is finally secure because of the love that God has been lavishing on me.

I feel like the last few years--and especially months-- have been this grueling upward climb and finally I've come out on a plateau where I can take a load off and lay in the sunlight and the dappled shade and the fresh breeze. My God has given me these friends that have instilled in me such a refreshment and enjoyment of life. They are very well suited to my personal style of friendship and I am continually amazed that anyone could like me so much.

Isaiah 40:31

but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.

That verse is such a well-known one, and yet, until recently, I wouldn't have been able to say that I've seen it in action in my own life. But now I've actually been able to watch my life change as God has given me back strength, joy, and vitality that I've been severely lacking. I feel like He's been giving me a boost, holding my hand, leading me on.



Your love is extravagant
Your friendship, it is intimate
I feel like moving to the rhythm of Your grace
Your fragrance is intoxicating in our secret place
Your love is extravagant

Chorus:
Spread wide in the arms of Christ is the love that covers sin
No greater love have I ever known You considered me a friend
Capture my heart again

Spread wide in the arms of Christ is the love that covers sin
No greater love have I ever known; You considered me a friend

Capture my heart again
Your love is extravagant
Your friendship, it is intimate

--Casting Crowns

The #1 Requirement of Being a Superfriend

The Superfriends possess many amazing qualities, but the overriding facet is their ability to love the Floyd children. It is so comforting and encouraging to be around them, because they like our kids as much as we do, and not just when the children are behaving.

If you too would like to join the ranks of Superfriends, you must first pass this test: You must love our children not only when they look like this:


...but also when they look like this:



Now in addition to the upset pictures, you have to imagine lots of whining and angry voices. Still love 'em? Yeah, me too.

Yes, this is a shameless excuse to show off my children.

What of it?

Don't you ever feel lazy on a Friday night?

That's what I thought.

And The Winners Are...

Edie and my mom win the giveaway prizes. I would say contact me to claim your stuff, but the chances that I'll need to be reminded are slim.

The winner of the House Naming Contest was...

Amber! (we had to slightly modify your name since we're not actually Spanish and don't speak it very well. We inserted "casa" for "camara")

The new name of the Floyd home is La Casa de Muchos Ninos (the House of Many Children).

The runner up was Sasha, with Castillo para el Amor Latino (Castle for Latin Love).

Thank you so much for playing our little contest/giveaway! We had great fun and I hope y'all did, too.

(No, Amber, I do not know what your special prize is yet. But I betcha it'll either be from Target or Treasure Mart. Please stand by.)

In case you're dying to know, my nail polish color is called Sunrise Sunset by Sally Hansen and I love it for both fingers and toes.

Carry on dear ones. I'll be back with a traditional post soon.