Taking Things in Stride

Last night I had a moment, well, several moments, really, in which I thought I had lost everything on the blog. Well, not everything. I do have all of the posts and comments and pictures saved in a backup file. I'm talking about the site structure itself. Major panic ensued.

Obviously, you're reading this, so I got everything sorted out, but for about four hours last night, I was at my wit's end. Which is silly, really, because it's just a website. But it's a website that I built and customized for myself, and it took me a long time to get it exactly the way I wanted. I was seeing hours and hours of getting it just right again in my future, and the prospect made me shudder.

This is just the most recent of events that has set me back lately, and the more these little things pop up, the more I've noticed something about myself.

When things don't go the way I have planned, I get bent out of shape. And when I say bent out of shape, I mean that I get twisted up into an unrecognizable form of myself. I obsess over "fixing" things when it's obvious to everyone else that they can't be fixed.

I don't want to be that way.

I want to be the kind of woman who takes things in stride. Who never gets her feathers ruffled or works herself into a tizzy. I want to calmly step both feet into my big girl panties, pull them up, and just deal with it.

This, I know, is going to be a slow and painful process, and given some of my recent circumstances, I'm afraid that it's an area that God really wants to work on right now.

He always does that, you know. Gets me in the gut.

I've been feeling overwhelmed lately with everything I've loaded on my plate. It's piled higher than a styrofoam tray at Thanksgiving dinner, and when I dive in to tackle the butterbeans, I send my cornbread tumbling off the plate. It's not pretty.

I called my mom Monday and asked her to come get Micah, who has refused to nap consistently for the past month, and when Micah refuses to nap, I can't write, which is a problem since I have two major deadlines at the beginning of next week. I have to work this week. Thank goodness for grandparents, right?

I'm hoping that I'll be able to get back on track while Micah's at my parent's house. That maybe these few days will be like pushing the reset button, and when I retrieve her, all will be calm, and my plate will have a few empty sections.

One can hope, right?

Until next time, grace and peace.

How To Tuesday: Modern Colorful Mobiles from Project Wedding

Welcome to How To Tuesday, where I'll introduce you to some of my favorite DIY projects from all over the web. I have a folder bookmarked on my computer that's chock-full of fun DIY projects. I saved some of the ideas for inspiration and others because I just thought they were pretty or fun, and now I'm sharing them with you. Ever since my friend Hillary told me that she made the ruffled camera strap I mentioned and my friend Caitie actually made the button tree from the state fair, I knew that sharing the tutorials was a great idea, but the icing on the cake came when Nikki told me she plans to make the paper owls for her daughter's birthday party. Sold.

Today, I wanted to share these whimsical paper mobiles from the DIY section of Project Wedding. They're beautifully simple, and I think they'd be equally as lovely over a baby's bed or a serving table.

I haven't made them, but the step-by-step instructions are thorough, and the mobiles seem as if they're a pretty simple project. So, if you're looking to add a little whimsy to your life, click on over to Project Wedding to read the full tutorial.

Until next time, grace and peace.

Loving the Least of These

'I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.' Then the righteous will answer him, saying, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?'

And the King will answer them, 'Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.'

Matthew 25:36-40

A few days ago, I met a new couple in the hallway at church. They seemed nice enough, and after a quick introduction, I hurried to the nursery to drop Micah off and then went about my business, teaching class in the youth building.

Only later did I learn that the couple is destitute, which, according to the definition of the word at dictionary.com, means that they are lacking basic necessities such as food, clothing, and shelter. My jaw dropped when I heard the news.

I live in a nice, small, Southern town. I know that there are poor people in our area, but honestly, I never see them. I didn't know that our little town had projects until I stumbled across them one day when I took a wrong turn. When I read passages in the Bible like the one above, I think, yes, we should feed the hungry, and clothe the naked, but really, Lord, where are they? They're not here.

Turns out that they are.

A lot of people have rallied around the couple, and they now have a roof over their heads, food in their pantry, and clothes on their back. They don't, however, have a car. Did I mention that the woman is pregnant? And the hospital in Iuka will flat out turn you away if you walk in with a pregnancy complication. The closest place to receive care is Corinth, 20 miles away.

Can you imagine?

They walked the mile and a half to church from the less-than-reputable motel they were staying in.

I don't think I've ever wanted to go to church so badly that I set out walking.

Even Dennis, who literally grew up around the corner from church, has never walked there.

We are so privileged, and so often, we don't even realize it. Three years ago at this time, I had just returned from a monumental trip to Africa. It was there that I first realized how absolutely undeserving I am of the life that God has chosen to bless me with. Here I am, three years later, learning the same lesson all over again.

Yesterday afternoon, I cleaned out my pantry and linen closet, bagging up items that I had gotten for free thanks to my couponing efforts. It felt good to be able to give so freely out of the abundance that God had given me, but I wonder if there is something more we can do.

I know that there are people like them all over the place. The reminder that they exist, even in a place like Iuka, has shamed me for the way I have failed to do the things that God has asked me to do. I don't feed the poor or clothe the naked. I certainly don't visit anyone in prison, nor do I intend to anytime soon.

I think there's something wrong with that.

I know that I am doing a ridiculously poor job of loving the least of these. And that's a sobering thought.

As I contemplated ways that we can actually help the poor in our midst, I was reminded of God's commands to the Israelites. If they were so fortunate as to own a field, they weren't to harvest it all the way up to the edges. They were supposed to leave a margin of unharvested food around the outside. That way, those who were without could come and collect food to eat (see Leviticus 19:9-10). That, by the way, is what Ruth was doing in Boaz's field. Collecting the grain that had been left behind.

Now, Dennis and I don't have a field with grain to harvest. But we do reap a paycheck harvest every month, and I think we can do a better job of saving some room at the edges to help the poor.

I want to be able to give freely out of the abundance that God has given us. This whole experience has reminded me that it's time to be more disciplined and intentional about the way we handle our money and resources. As Christians, we are called to love the least of these. It's well past time for us to get started.

Until next time, grace and peace.