The Joy Of The Shepherds

At 3 a.m. on Christmas morning, while all other peeps where nestled peacefully in their beds, I was in the horse pastures wading around in mud juggling horses. I was mad and resentful and just wanted to go "night, night."

I was also a little nervous... not of being alone in the dark (that part was quite peaceful)... I was was scared of the unknown. The unknown event that lurks around every corner when you are caring for and managing animals during the nasty rain. 

I've witnessed a horse harmlessly roll to itch his back and 45 minutes later have to be put down because he twisted his intestine while rolling. 

I've found my daughter's pony too weak to stand in the quiet hours of the morning. 

I've had to lure my blind horse to safer ground when she became disoriented in the pasture. 

I've walked in to feed to find my childhood horse shivering in shock when a tumor became too much for her body to bear. 

Terrifying moments and emergencies fill my mind. In the quiet of the Christmas morning, all I could think about was the "what ifs." What might lurk around the corner to harm this peaceful and holy day.  

As I looked up at the heavens and saw the bright stars, I prayed desperately for God to protect these unpredictable creatures and spare me, if even for a day, the sick sinking feeling in my stomach of finding one of them in danger. 

I began to give them hay and slowly walk them to their paddocks. In the dark it took a lot of talking and comforting for the easily startled beasts to trust the path I chose for them. In the darkness of the morning, my horses went from startled and nervous, to calm and content. 

My nerves settled and I became overjoyed by the calmness that was all around. The crunching of hay and gentle snorts where a joyous sound... the sound of safety, security and quiet that could only be appreciated because I had experienced overwhelming fear of the unknown. 

Then suddenly at 3 a.m. on Christmas morning, while all other peeps where nestled peacefully in their beds, I was in the pastures.  I was no longer mad and resentful. I was no longer nervous. I was no longer scared of the unknown. I was consumed by peace and joy and excitement because it was Christmas morning. YAY for CHRISTMAS!!!

In that moment, I realized why God chose the lowly shepherds to be the first to witness His arrival to Earth. Those humble shepherds felt the sickening fear when the Angels appeared. This unexpected event that could scare, kill, or maim their precious sheep. 

Luke describes them as "terrified." Terrified is a fo sho helpless way to feel when you are caring for animals. The angel of the Lord said, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people." (Luke 2:9-10). 

Those shepherds fully appreciated this great joy because they had experienced the fear. They understood the peace because they had endured the fatigue. They had been treated by society as inferior, ignoble, and subordinate. God put them in a place of favor, honor, and dignity. 

They were honored as the first to see Christ the King lying in the manger. They experienced being inferior, so they truly appreciated being favored. They had experienced fear, so they welcomed and embraced joy. 

At 4 a.m. on Christmas morning, I climbed into my bed and snuggled under my covers knowing that it's okay to be fearful, and tired, and stressed, and even terrified because it's those experiences that have allowed me to truly know the Joy and Peace of Christ's birth.  

Peeps, it's difficult being a Princess of the Kingdom when you feel like a lowly Shepherdess.  Just trying to keep all our sheep in a row can be completely overwhelming.  It often leaves us broken down, broken hearted, and down right hopeless.  But our sweet Savior invited the lowest and most exhausted and broken to meet Him first!!

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

Matthew 11:28 

Stop and follow the star.  If you haven't already, take time to do it now.   Just think how beautiful that peace and joy will feel as it seeps into your heart and renews your soul.  Just like the shepherds, take your tired self to the manger and just sit awhile.  And make room for the King.  By golly, the sheep can wait.

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Tis The Season

So, it's Christmas Eve and for the past few weeks, I've been diving into some super amazing scripture about prophecy and real life grace.  It's always a bit overwhelming, but I have so been trying to soak in the Christmas story.  Tis the season, right BBs?

I completely long to not miss this important day!!  And then it hit me like a big ole ton of bricks.  I began to really see the story of grace that is laid before us with the birth of Christ.

BBs, Can I just want to talk just one hot minute about the five women in Jesus's lineage? Sometimes they are lost amongst the sheep and the angels singing and whatnot.  Open your Bible up to Matthew 1 and try not to be bored senseless through the endless naming of all these peeps.  But, please don't miss these five women.

Now I'm guessing you are in one of two camps.  Camp one is all like, "Look, little BBs, we totes know all about these women and why they are listed and all the whatnots."  And camp two is more like, "You lost me at Matthew 1:2."

Whichever camp you are in, bear with me just for a few hundred shakes of a lamb's tail.  Not too long ago at Easter, I wrote about wanting to be a "Mary."  Here's the deal.  

Some days I'm all like Mary Magdalene throwing my crayola demons aside to follow my Savior.  Sometimes I'm like the Mary that poured sweet perfume on Jesus's feet.  And even sometimes I'm like His momma, Mary, that quietly supported her son and savior to the death.

Reality hits, however, each Christmas.  And I realize that I'm less like a Mary and more like these fools listed in Matthew. I read these names in this long line of decedents of our Immanuel.  

First up... Tamar.  I read of her vial deceit... pretending to be a prostitute and sleeping with her FIL just to gain an inheritance.  Goodness, I'd never be like her!

I move on to Rahab.  Well, more prostitution going around.  More difficult convos with the kiddos about this woman as we read through the women listed in Jesus's genealogy.  She is all about selling things she just need not sell to make this whole story PG.

Then there's Bathsheba.  She makes me super mad.  Mostly because of David.  I mean, come on, dude, get your crapola together.  You're stinking awesome and then you have to go and pull this R rated nonsense with this hot chick flaunting around in a bathtub.

Now Ruth, I adore.  She is more like it, right?  But in reality, she is somewhat foolish with her loyalty and fervor.  She is super duper determined and sometimes even brazen for a non-important widower with no real rights.  I'm guessing she shook up the town square with her determination.

And finally, we have Mary.  She is a quiet one, isn't she?  I mean, sheesh.  She gives birth to a king and has to manage a family with this little precious Savior running around.  She is to be adored, right?  

And I look at these women and I realize that it's not about some grading scale of how good they are.  It's not about all the "wrongs" lining up with all of the "rights."  These women are a big ole hot mess that have been deep fried in coo coo for cocoa puffs.  They are broken... just like ME!  So what's it all about?

It's about grace.

This season, we bow on our scarred up and unworthy knees at the foot of an infant Savior. 

We are given a King... an eternal King that humbles himself by entering this undeserving world as a tiny baby in a nasty ole stable.

We are Tamar, Rahab, and Bathsheba and it doesn't even matter.  Not only did he come here for us, he listed us quite proudly in his lineage. 

You see, he takes our broken mess and makes it beautiful.  He has since the world began, and He still is today. It's not that He doesn't care that we are a bunch fo mess ups.  Goodness knows we break his heart daily... perhaps hourly or more.  But He loves us THAT much.  

He loves us enough to make our broken mess beautiful.  And He loves us enough to dwell among us.  

Let this Christmas be a reminder that the Immanuel is here.  

Immanuel.  God with us.

Plain and simple.  

Not "God with us" if we do these great things.

Not "God with us" if we don't screw up.

Not "God with us" if we are good enough.

Us.  The prostitute and the priest.  The housewife and the day laborer.  The American and the Arab.  The broken and the beautiful. 

God with us.

Immanuel.

So beautifully and simply.  God with us.  

“The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”).”

Matthew 1:23 NIV

   

I'm "THAT" Mom

Dear 7:30 a.m. School Moms In Perfectly Matching Outfits Sipping On Your Second Cup Of Coffee,

Today, as I pulled up in car line at school and looked at all of the matching school t-shirts, my heart sank.  I had forgotten today was the field trip, and my little girl needed her school t-shirt.  Oh yes, she will be boldly rocking turquoise amongst the sea of yellow shirts.  (At least I'll be able to find her in the pictures as I face palm).

Driving home, I realized something...

I am that mom.

I'm the mom that forgets about field trips.

I'm the mom that frightens Kindergarten moms with my F350 in car line.

I'm the mom that doesn't care if my child is dressed to perfection, unless it's an important event. And I always let her do her own hair.

I'm the mom that doesn't care if my child sings in the school performance if she doesn't really want to.

I'm the mom that helps with projects, but doesn't do them for my kiddo... so they occasionally look like a serial killer cut and pasted a message together.

I'm the mom that doesn't spend much on gifts and they will look like a trained ape wrapped them.

I'm the mom that doesn't provide costumes with elaborate design and detail.  Our cat costume may not even have a tail and I'm okay with that.

I'm the mom that lets my child sew and create and then lets her actually appear in public with hand appliquéd "monograms" that look like chicken scratch.  

I'm the mom that keeps a calendar in September and then loses it by October.

My house isn't clean.

My clothes sometimes don't even match...but at least I put them on.

And I might sit on my off day and drink a mimosa slap in the middle of the day, because...

I'm just THAT mom.  

But one thing I realized today, is that being that mom only helps you out!  

First of all, you always have me to refer to when you need to remember that you are a "got it all together" kinda mom.  I envy your ways, but I doubt that I'll be changing anytime soon.  I like my imperfect attempts at parenting.  And most days, I enjoy running around a hot mess in green chucks. 

It's real life.  And I promise you that I'll never be afraid to show my child and yours that I'm just not perfect.  And in the long run, I think that's important to both of us.  It gives our kiddos a safe place to fall. 

Second, you can be assured that I'm not that mom because I'm lazy.  I just have a different agenda.  You don't have to be frightened by my haphazard non-PTO volunteering ways or my dirty cowboy boots or my rock star husband.  

I sincerely look at the bigger picture and want our kiddos to be, well... kiddos.  Not that you don't... I just have different gifts and talents.  My hot mess skills just seem to outway my organizational skills.  

And today I'm embracing those talents and no longer hiding behind the exhaust of my big truck or the guise of cute shoes.  I'm coming out of the closet... well, so to speak.

I am proclaiming to you that I am officially that mom...

I am the mom that will let your kids run through my house with muddy shoes.

I am the mom that will toss our kids outside and push them to go on a ghost hunt through the woods or make forts or whatevs.

I am the mom that will let the kids make s'mores in the living room.

I am the mom that will unplug the internet, when the outside world gets too overwhelming.

I am the mom that will volunteer and love your child during every single children's church event when you're exhausted from serving at school.

I am the mom that will laugh at all the borderline inappropriate things your kid laughs at, but also draw the line when needed.

I am the mom that will watch our kiddos like a hawk, and step in if hormones or the world or anything unJesus-like starts creeping in.  

I will not be afraid to discipline with love and I will be loyal to you to a fault.

I am THAT mom.

And I'm ready to embrace all of our roles, because let's face it... I need you, as much as you need me.  You need me to be that as much as I need your holiday cookies and your matching clothes and your dedication to making copies in the school office and your chaperoning skills and your warm body at the events that I just can't attend. 

It takes a big tribe to raise these kids.  And sometimes our imperfections are exactly what they need to feel a big ole dose of grace and love.  So today I make a promise to you that I am and will continue to do my best at being that mom.

Sincerely,

Mom Of The Kid That Will Be Standing Out Like A Sore Thumb In Your Field Trip Pictures

Releasing the Cray

Today I rode. #ride31days

I was so tired.  Exhausted really...  

I needed a break. 

I needed some quiet... some joy. 

And my horse was high as a kite flying on crack cocaine. 

And I wasn't strong enough for the cray. 

So I rode...

And I circled. 

Somewhat begrudgingly. 

And somewhat apprehensive and fearful that my horse would rear it's cray cray head. 

And through the circles, the crazy simmered. 

As we circled, she calmed. 

And then we stopped... and my sweet horse fell asleep in the sunshine. 

From crazy to peaceful. 

And I realized that so much is missed because we forgot the simple things. 

We forget the circles. 

We forget that by circling we can find our strength...

We can find our peace...

Because our joy comes from above...

And our rest comes through the little things. 

Simplicity. 

Circles. 

Head Lice, Dog Poo, & Weird Puppets

So can we just talk about my day yesterday?

I woke up to a screaming cat and my coffee maker that wasn't pre-set.  Whatevs, I'll be fine.

I haven't slept.  One rottenweiler barked ALL NIGHT.  And the other couldn't hold his... well poo.  Lawsy all the poo.  But he is old.  I'll still love him, right?

I went to leave and as my sweet little angel girl and I were praying for our day and our friends and family, here comes the sheriff.  I was mortified.  I am the next of kin to so many.  

"What had happened," I thought!

I took an extremely irritated sigh of relief as I received a subpoena for information... that doesn't exist... for a simple court case... that was over weeks ago.  And I tried to regroup.  But I just couldn't.  My irritation level was about an 11.  Exactly.  One.  Higher.  Than normal.  

As I went about my day, it was one thing after another.  

Little things that kept stacking up.  

And then the call... My little girl has head lice.  I leave to pick her up and suddenly we are now battling fever AND head lice.  

Y'all.  The bugs.  All things washed and sprayed and I gave my child a flea bath.

And then the icing on the cake...  I, too, have head lice.  Let the head scratching begin.  

My hair is two feet long and fine and breakable.  Using the dang tiny flea comb was like entering the seventh realm of hell.  

I just couldn't take it all.  

All the little things.  And I'll be honest.  I wasn't feeling very full of Jesus.  

But I must write.  It's #write31days.  And it's raw.  And here I am.  

And I do love Jesus.  I just don't want to read about him.  Or pray.  

So I try to just cry a little.  And let the Holy Spirit take over.  

And keep it simple.  

I circle around my sweet Jesus.  

Jesus loves me this I know,

For the Bible tells me so.

Little ones to Him belong,

They are week and He is strong.

Nothing happened with weird puppets, but it sounded good at the time.  What's up with them????  Where does one go to take a weird picture of puppets!  Creepy.  I guess it could be worse than head lice.  I could be surrounded by weird puppets.  

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words?

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then what do your pictures say about you? 

Y'all, one thousand words is a good bit.  I'm long winded, and I've never posted more than about 800 words in a blog!!   This statement is oh so true!  How much we see and feel and think from a mere picture.  

Remember my vanity meter yesterday?  Were you brave enough to look through your photos and rate a few?  How'd they stack up?

This vanity thing goes way past pictures.  Yesterday we talked about coming before your king unedited.  I dare you to take it further... go before your family, and friends, and co-workers, and complete strangers... UNEDITED.  

THIS is the true way to lay yourself in front of the world as a beautifully broken soul.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.  Psalm 139:14

BBs, you can crop and edit all you want, but that doesn't change who you are.  That doesn't change the fact that Christ died FOR YOU even though he knows who you are.  He died for you wrinkles and flaws and bad hair and bad attitude and selfishness.  

And I bet if we all went on a mission to post real selfies.  REAL ones.  Like hair is a mess and clothes don't match kinda selfies that peeps would love us just the same.  

I bet if we took pictures of our kids throwing tantrums and what dinner REALLY looked like, peeps would love us just the same.

If we took pictures of our messed up life and broken daily mess and spilt coffee and burnt bisquits and unorganized house that peeps would love us just the same.

Maybe even more...

Because that love would be unedited.  

Unfiltered.  

Just like Christ's.

Be realz, BBs!

Spiritual Selfie

So this week, I'm circling around vanity.  It seems like such a harsh word... VANITY.  We think, "no, that's not me."  But peeps, we live in an insanely "me" focused world.  I'm gonna start off with the ole selfie...

Y'all, I have to confess.  I have a love/hate relationship with selfies.  

On one hand, they are fun.  It's fun to see a friend and be able to take a picture with them.  Remember the days of turning the camera around and hoping that the selfie picture would come out?  And you would't know for days.  Unless it was a Polaroid.  Then you'd have to shake, shake, shake until the picture was clear.  

On the other hand, they can get a little bit too much.  I think about this when I take one.  It takes a ton of pictures and perfect angles to make a good one.  And then the editing.  I end up wondering WHY I even attempted it in the first place.  Usually it's just to show my husband my new bangs and it ends up a disaster.  

Then I have peeps that make gorgeous ones and I love them.  And I never even think, "Wow, she just took a picture of herself."  (Like I do about some peeps).  

Then there are peeps that post them constantly.  And I wonder about the selfie addicted peeps.  How much time to they take doing this?  And I wonder what's on their camera roll...

So what is on your camera roll?

I stopped and took a second to check on my photo vanity.  I'm going back to the last ten, and laying it out there for you guys!  Here's to honesty!!  Here we go...

Number 10... I picture of me one my horse.  Vanity level... 7

Number 9... Cat drinking champagne.  Vanity level... 2

Number 8...Horse's leg (I had to send it to the vet).  Vanity level... 1

Number 7... Jerome and I at our wedding.  Vanity level... 4ish  (It's a cute picture and I just wanted to look at it.  

Number 6... Cat in a mailbox.  Vanity level... 2

Number 5... All my "gig" purses.  It was so ungig-like.  And I just took the pic for me.  Sooooo vanity level... 3

Number 4...Jerome and me playing a show in Nashville.  Vanity level... 5

Number 3... Clouds as we came into Birmingham.  Vanity level... 6ish (I knew it would get retweeted, so there's that)

Number 2... A Johnny Cash quote.  Vanity level... 2

Number 1... One of my kiddos getting a horse.  Vanity level... 2

Ok, so not that bad.  But that's just a few days of pics.  There ain't no telling how vain I'd be if I looked through the whole camera roll.  Eeeeek.  Not sure I wanna go there...

What about you?  What do your last ten pictures say about you?

The problem with these edited and cropped pictures with an over produced focal point, is that it has led us down a path of seeing the world in tunnel vision.  We see a person's apprearance from a selfie.  We see a persons life from social media.  We see our child's life or our meal through a 5" phone screen.  We can now clean up our memories with a push of a button.  

But what if we could turn that screen shot around and take a spiritual selfie?  

No filter.

No cropping.

No enhancement.  

Peeps, God does not edit and crop and touch up and filter our heart when we are standing in front of Him.  We can hope for that as we walk around our world with blinders on, but it's just not true.  

In 1 Samuel, the Lord tells Samuel (when looking for David... the next king), "The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart."  (From 1 Samuel 16:7)

Y'all, even thousands of years ago, peeps were judging by appearance.  Now right here in 2015, we have raised a generation that judges.  We see someone's life on social media and say/think it's fake or wish it was ours.  Or we see their life on social media and think they are vain.  It really can end up a teeny tiny (or SUPER big) vanity contest.  

When it comes down to it, we live in a vain society.  We spend about 8 MILLION on cosmetics a year in the U.S.  I'm not saying don't get your hair done and trash the mascara.  I'm saying stop and think before you do anything.  

Take a spiritual selfie...

Why are you taking that picture?  Really?  Why?  

Why are you saying what you're saying?  Really?  Does it need to be said...Why?

Why are wearing what you are wearing?  Really?  Deep down... Why?

Quit cropping and editing, because what really matters is your sweet Father.  And He ain't got no time for all that.