>Life’s Like a Box of Playdoh

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I think life’s like play-doh. We’re born (the container is opened) and there we are….a lump of play-doh on the table. The times when I’ve let the world mold me, I felt like the world looked and asked, “What’s that suppose to be?” But when I let GOD mold me, the world still looks, but they don’t need to ask.They know what they see: something that’s been shaped in the image of Him. When God makes something out of us, there are no questions, there is no uncertainty. Oh, sure, God’s had to break me down and REmold me. He’s even had to put me through the Dr. Drill and Fill a few times!

But when we let God be the hands that molds the play doh, two great things happen on the play doh table: The world takes note of who we are in Him;and so do we.

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>Where the heck’s my purse??

>I was walking to my car with my mom, my 2 kids, my purse, my iPhone, DJs backpack, Andy’s school papers, conversing with my friend Melissa, while holding DJs hand, while keeping an eye on Andy, while starting the car, while putting Andy in his carseat, talking to my mom, yelling at DJ to sit down….when we finally took off to get lunch. Arriving at the restaurant parking lot, I shriek in terror, “OH MY GOSH! MOM! I think I left my purse on the hood of my car!” My Mom goes into rational-mode (to offset my psycho-mode) and comes up with the plan, “I’ll keep the boys here and get lunch, YOU leave NOW and find that purse!” So I’m driving at a turtle-pace, down the busy highways & byways, looking for the worst: my purse and all its belongings blowing like tumbleweed down Flamingo Road.

Meanwhile, my mom sits down for lunch with my boys and leads them in prayer that mommy will find her purse. I make it all the way back to parking lot where the chaos started. Lo and behold, look what I found:

Somebody throw me a bone here and tell me I’m NOT the only one who does stupid things like leave her identity, money, iPhone, credit cards, etc. in a purse, along a curb, by a bush?!
So whatta ya do with moments like these?

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>I’ve Screwed Up

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Last March, we launched a website called ivescrewedup.com. Although our ivescrewedup.com series only lasted 11 weeks, the website has relentlessly forged ahead. To date, we’ve had some 200,000 visitors to the site and 100,000 confessions. Just last week,my pastor was interviewed again. See interview here. Intermittently, the argument has been raised that you can’t confess thru a website. I challenge that argument and I welcome the debate. God is everywhere, everytime, available to everyone…which makes Him God. And a broken person, typing with a sincere heart, can meet God right where they are, even at a computer. At times, the anonymonity of this site has been tough for me because I can’t reach out to them, but everyday, I’m praying and believing God is. Hey, right now, if you’re heavy-hearted about something, go here and get it off your back.

‘Cause confession is good for the soul; and the soul feels good when it confesses.

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>Misunderstood

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Andy’s only been talking for a year and a half, and there are alot of consonants he can’t enunciate. Additionally, his brain processes words faster than his mouth can say them, so Andy is often misunderstood.
Andy has wanted more of something yet we walked away as if he was done.
Andy has not felt well yet we made him finish his dinner anyway.
Andy has wanted to be picked up yet we walked away.
For Andy, there’s been tough moments where he’s wanted us to know so badly what he’s saying yet we didn’t.
Most of the time I’m there to “translate” for him but I feel bad for the times I haven’t been.
Sometimes, I’ve just had to confess, “Andy, I don’t understand what you are saying.”
And ‘though he keeps saying it over and over, we don’t get anywhere except frustrated.

I just want you to know that God has never misunderstood you.
When you’ve cried and had no words….He knew exactly what you were saying.
When you’ve only moaned, uttered, or winced, God knew.
He doesn’t misunderstand you. He doesn’t get confused by you.
And nobody will ever have to translate to God for you.
If He’s in your heart, He always knows what you’re saying from it.

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>Rock the Vote

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Did you know that when the President of the United States travels by motorcade from the White House to the Capitol, they do not stop at any redlights?
I just learned that.
These days, I’m watching alot of election coverage. I’m not politically savy, so I need to watch…I have alot to learn.
One thing I think is very cool is the DIVERSITY among the candidates: the very old to a woman to an African American to a pastor. What a bunch!
If the Presidential vote was tomorrow, do you know who you’d vote for? Hum….

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>TEAM!

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Tonight, 21 of us went to see U2-3D at theIMAX theatre. A motley crew of gender, age, ethnicity, image, interests and experience. We even had 2 from another country join us!
So how can we be diversified yet unified?
How can we be one but we’re not the same?
Who knows.
All I know is if 21 Heather’s went tonight, it wouldn’t have been as fun or memorable.
I hope you have a team. There is an exciting piece of life we miss out on if we do life alone.
But it’s a Beautiful Day when we’re part of a team! The Desire for team is from the Creator Himself. And it’s In the Name of Lovethat God put us together, as different as we are, on One planet (even though He created nine planets!)

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>Turning Crusty

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If you are young, I am here to prepare you; if you are old, I am here to empathize with you. Here’s what happens when you turn the corner from “chipper” to “crusty” (or what I’m experiencing, anyway):

  1. Your plumbing can’t handle stuff like it used to. Kids can swallow nails & pennies and be just fine. I eat a salad and I’m paying for hours.
  2. Lines show up. Allow me to differentiate: you get LONGITUDE lines around your mouth; you get LATITUDE lines across your forehead. I’m turning into Rand McNally.
  3. You need more sleep. When I was 20, I’d party til 4am and go to work at 8am. Maybe we need more sleep ’cause our bodies need it. OR…maybe it’s God way of getting us to stop partying?
  4. Your skin changes. It’s been in this 30-something range where I’ve experienced the world’s biggest zits. And if you are really lucky, after Mr. Zit goes away, he leaves a beautiful discoloration behind…so you’ll NEVER forget he stopped by.
  5. What are these little tiny red things? They’re much smaller than moles or freckles. There’s like 2 of them on me. Can someone please tell me what these are? If I knew they weren’t anything dangerous, I’d almost think they were cute.
It’s all good, though. I might be fighting my gravity, but I’m embracing my miracle that I’m still here and God’s not finished with me yet.

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>Came to my Rescue

>I’m borderline-annoying with the amount of times I request this song at church:
Falling on my knees in worship
Giving all I am to seek Your face
Lord all I am is is Yours…
…I called, You answered
And You came to my rescue and 
I wanna be where You are
(click here to check it out)
I know why I have such an affinity to this song, but I’ve never shared why.
Three times God came to my rescue. The 1st was when I put myself in a perilous situation at a highschool party in 1989. The 2nd was when I was ambulanced to a psych ward in 2000. And the 3rd was when my lungs took a critical turn w/ one of my pneumonia bouts in 2003.
In those moments, all I could do was call on God.
I didn’t have time to figure things out.
I didn’t know how to find my way out.
I didn’t want to give up.
So I called on God. And all 3 times, He came to my rescue.
And I will live the rest of my life living out the beginning of that song….
falling on my knees in worship, giving all I am to seek His face.
HAS GOD COME TO YOUR RESCUE?

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>A Lamb, a Baby, a Cat

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It was hard to make the permanent decision to not have more kids. I’ve prayed about this alot, asking God to give me peace but to also give me occasional opportunities to nurture. Last weekend, God granted me the opportunity, TWICE! My bro and his wifey had a baby boy, Anthony. I got to love on him alot at the hospital.

I also got to keep & care for my pastor’s prop (a lamb) at my home. Now these fixes could’ve pacified my nurture-need for months. That is, until today. For the first time in my life, I hit an animal and took its life. I was so upset. All I knew to do was cry out to God. Folks, do you know there’s just nothing I can do apart from God? One day, I’m thanking God for the opportunities to nurture; the other, I’m imploring Him to take away an animal’s suffering. Two TOTALLY polar instances, one God who’s there for both

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>Kind of Crappy Day

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Help me with this, folks. I start my day off on some ethereal clock that says 7:30 (when it’s really 8:30). And it’s all downhill from there. Cutting one meeting short, late to another, driving like a maniac, people waiting for me, people not waiting anymore; I’m fuming, impatient, embarrassed, yada, yada, yada…
What is the success-formula for starting your day off wrong???
‘Cause we don’t get do-over’s; and make-up attempts to those we afflict sound so petty and pithy: “I’m sorry, it’s just that I don’t know how to tell time.” Please!
I’m wracking my brain wondering what Jesus did when he had these kinds of mornings….but he’s Jesus, so did He?
I need a formula, I’ll even take a theory. Anything is better than just plowing through the rest of a bad-start day and ending it that way.

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