Write-a-Letter Wednesday, the Thursday Edition (Dear Brothers)

**My 21-year-old brother, Tim, is serving in the AirForce--currently stationed in Iraq. My other brother, Andrew, is eleven-years-old, and taking the Middle School scene by storm... I would have written to them yesterday, but my evening filled unexpectedly. So, here is the Thursday edition of Write-a-Letter Wednesday**

Dear Brothers,

Maybe you don't care at all what your big sister has to say about you. But I brag about you all the time. I talk about you at work; I share stories with my friends; and--not so secretly--I'm a little hopeful my first baby is a boy, and that he's just like the brothers I love so much.

Tim: you were everything a younger sibling should have been. You made fun of my clothes and hair. You hit me when mom wasn't looking. And do you remember that time I tried to show you my new dress pants and you peed on them?... Trust me. It happened.

But we had some moments where we were a good team, too. (And I don't just mean the times we were at Indiana Beach.) I remember building with K'nex and Legos long after we were supposed to be asleep. There were road trips where we would get slap-happy, and Mom would threaten our lives if we didn't stop laughing. Of course, that just made it even funnier. And I hope you know--if you're planning anymore flights over the neighbor's fence--you still can count on me to throw my weight on the other side of the teeter-totter when you say, "Go."

Honestly, I never would have fancied you a military man, when we were building bike ramps in the alley and spending our dimes at VP. But I am very, very proud of you.

Drew: You won't understand how I feel about you until you have children of your own someday. That's what you were to me: my baby. You were a living doll for me to dress and feed and bathe, and I LOVED filling your mind with all the facts it could handle. You tried to be an annoying little brother. (The first time Luke ever visited our house, you told him, "My sister is on a crush with you!" and then ran away giggling.) But I was rarely angry with you. Instead, you fascinated me with how clever you were.

You must have been two years old when Dad and I heard you humming several songs from Zelda--perfectly on key. And, around the age of five, you opened my cardoor and said, "After you m'lady." Do you remember when we used to have "cuddle parties" in the playroom? I bribed you and Tabby with pizza and a movie, but my favorite part was curling up on the daybed in a little human pile....

Both of you are funny, and you know it. You're quirky, but it suits you well. And both of you have sweet and sensitive sides, too. My prayer is that you will take your attractive personalities and use them to show the world what it means to be real, upstanding men. But, to do that, you must be willing to do what's "hard" and not just what feels good. That means putting away boyish things like toys and games, in favor of getting jobs and protecting your families some day. It means learning there are more important things in life than what you "want" or even what you "need." And it means using your minds to ask tough questions instead of accepting everything the world tells you is true.

At some point, you'll need to wonder, "Why am I here?" and "What am I supposed to do now?" But I want you to know I'm here to talk about those things, if you want... Or, if you just want to build with Legos or play a little Zelda, I'm here for that, too.

I can't wait to see what else God has in store for both of you, and I'm looking forward to being a part of it.

I love you so, so much!

~Big Sis~

"You Should Put This on Your Blog"

Yesterday, Luke says, "I have something for your blog."

He then proceeds to flip through the pictures on his phone and produces this.

Me: Uh. I don't understand what this has to do with Turning Selfish into Service. I don't even know what it is.

Luke: This is the logo on a box of hairnets at work.

Me: ???

Luke: I think it looks like a thug.

Me: ???

Luke: It's supposed to be gender-neutral and not race specific. But, I can tell exactly what his face looks like.

Me: Is that right?

Luke: Yes, so I drew it on there and took another picture....

As for what this has to do with service, not much.

But how could I NOT put this on my blog?

Write-a-Letter Wednesday, Dear Sisters

*Preface: My little sister, Tabby, turned 15-years-old yesterday. And my sister-in-law, Megan, and I have been talking a lot about life and love, as she has been dating her boyfriend for eons now. I guess she figures if anyone can commiserate it's the one who dated her brother for over four years!...No, wait. I don't mean to insinuate that I dated MY brother. I dated Megan's brother for over four years. And then we got married--Megan's brother and I. That's how we became sisters-in-law. Megan and I.
My point is, I'm stationed way up here in Fort Wayne, while both of my sisters are in Kokomo, and I kind of miss those little buggers. So, here is a letter full of sisterly love, for the lovely lady siblings of mine.

Dear Tabs and Megz,
For whatever reason, I'm really craving some girl time right now. I had a daydream yesterday involving me, the two of you, and Panera Bread for some soup. That sounds like a lot of fun to me, and I think the reason for that is two-fold:

1. I'm finally starting to eat stuff other than crackers, and I feel like celebrating with an overpriced broccoli and cheese breadbowl.
2. It finally has occurred to me that I don't need to find a homeless kid or register with Big Brothers, Big Sister to mentor a young adult. I happen to be a sister already.

I was trying to explain to one of my prayer partners exactly WHY I've felt down and depressed lately, and he suggested I needed more rest. He said, "I've had four or five people call me this week asking for counsel or advice, and sometimes we just need to turn off the phone to take care of ourselves!" But, that's when I realized I have the exact opposite problem: I hardly invest in people at all. And, unfortunately, that includes my own family members.

Well, the boys will get their turn next week, when I write to them. But I'm taking this chance to speak to my sisters--as the not-much-older, not-much-wiser, but still interested (and opinionated) older one.

Tabby: I'm soooooo thrilled with the kind of person you've become. Mom says you're really busy with soccer, honors classes, piano, etc. But I'm excited because I know you can handle it, and you've arrived at that point where your trials just make you stronger instead of breaking you down. (That's what this blog is all about, and you are practicing it already!) Most girls your age annoy me because they are totally self-centered, emotional, and generally clueless about life. Plus, even if they know they are self-centered, emotional, and clueless, they don't care--as long as their hair looks good.

Thank you for not being that way. You're funny, well-rounded, mature, and I don't worry about the things you "get in to," because you appreciate clean entertainment. AND, I'm proud of the way you seek God's will for your life. It's the Heavenly perspective that will keep you from falling into the shallow problems your friends may.

The only thing about which you should be concerned is finding a man who can handle your big, intimidating personality. It may be hard to locate that mate who can challenge you and lead you, when you're so strong on your own. And, since you've experienced the love of Christ, your standards are high already.

But, I'm so excited to help however I can as your love life becomes more serious. And I want to have talks about colleges, careers, the stupid things your friends do, and a whole lot of other stuff, too...

Megan: I am SO glad we get along. It's easy to take that kind of thing for granted--mostly because you're the kind of person who everybody likes. But, take my word for it (as somebody who has been known to rub people the wrong way): not all in-laws like each other!

The fact that you have been keeping me up to date and trusting me with the details of your life means a ton. And, though you're probably inflating my ego in dangerous ways, I want to thank you for letting me share what I've learned about wifehood, finances, and the spiritual tests which come with both. If I can tell my stories and make things a little easier for someone else, it almost makes me glad for my problems. Almost.

You're very sweet, Megz. You're driven and passionate, and you have a logical, practical head on your shoulders. As we've discussed, the biggest problem for logical, practical people like us is taking those leaps of faith. And I'm proud of you for beginning to face your fears in the name of trusting God. I CANNOT WAIT to see the ways you're blessed because of it. (Okay, and I'm also looking forward to whining with you when things get frustrating. ha! As you know, life won't be peaches and cream all the time, and.....misery loves company!)

Sometimes I really, really wish I lived a little closer, so I could spend more time with both of you! (By the way, there is a Panera in Kokomo, right? This could be turning into a full-blown craving.) Truthfully, I've been missing you guys...

Both of you are special individuals, who aren't afraid to be different as long as you're walking in the truth. And that's a beautiful thing. I want you to know I'm here to help however I can. And my house always is open, although you would need a ride, Tabs, and both of you should be prepared to use a paintbrush if you came in the next couple weeks. I would love the chance to take a little credit for the great women you have become, so please ask me questions! ;)

And, know that I love you both.

~Mandy

The Meeting--an Addendum (and Other Assorted Updates on Life)

So, on Wednesday I told you I've been feeling pretty awful. Technically, I'm not sick. Pregnancy isn't a disease. But I AM cursed with "perfect attendance sickness," which makes any ailment much, much worse.

In two and a half years, I haven't called off from work--but that's not to say I've been well enough to work every day for two and a half years. Wait, I just remembered. I took off ONE DAY after a would-be field trip to Chicago was ruined by a blizzard and a nasty, firey crash with a semitruck, effectively totalling three university vehicles and incinerating my favorite wedge heels.
But again: one day off. A trip to the ER, prescription for Vicodin, and several assisted trips to the bathroom later (seatbelts save lives--not hips), I was back in the game.

So, you can't bring me down. And, true to form, I've been keeping all of my appointments this past week, too. I even went to church on Sunday, just to prove I'm SuperMom, unphased by a migraine, churning tummy, and muscle fatigue, and even though I sat in a rocking chair in the appropriately named "cry room" through most of the service.

But, I bring this up because I mentioned on Wednesday that--even though I'm not getting house work done, or finishing my writing assignment*, or updating my blog--at least I'd be able to back out of a meeting I didn't want to attend! Good plan. Didn't happen.


This actually was less of a meeting and more of a "focus group" conducted by the CEO of a company here in town. I was linked with this woman last summer, when I was completing my internship, and there were several things that became apparent right away:

1. This woman is hard-working and God-loving.


2. She knows her business, which is advising other CEOs about their human resources.


3. She is a very encouraging person, who appreciates my "writing strengths" because, in her words, she "is too scattered to write clearly."


4. She is very scattered--and she doesn't write clearly.

So, as an organized, clear thinker, it wasn't easy to spend lots of time in the office. AND, her highly emotional personality can be exhausting. (I'll post a link to my story about another meeting I had with her one more time, just in case you've missed it.) SO, now that you've read this account, you can understand why I planned to excuse myself from this "focus group." Even I can't understand why I didn't.

And, more baffling still is the fact that--as I was driving home after the meeting--I was glad I went!

First of all, my stomach really settled while I was there, and I was able to eat a scoop of mashed potatoes and two cookies from the bar! So I was feeling positive already! But also, I was pleasantly surprised by the number of things I was able to learn being smack in the middle of a group of 60+-year-olds answering the question, "What have we done with our lives?"...

Even the infamous CEO was especially clear-headed while she shared her perspective on the "final season of life." She told about her mother-in-law, who is 94 and still doing the exact same things she's always done. Since she doesn't get along with anybody, she retreats into her bedroom and numbs herself with CNN or another television program. Now, her movements are slower than they were and she is forced to accept help with some activities. But she does the same KINDS of things. She still defaults to the same, poisonous thought patterns. She still thinks her life would be better if she were totally alone. And, when she IS alone, she mutters bitterly to herself and waits for the hours to go by.

But, she described a different woman, too: "I know another lady whose various illnesses have left her immobile from the neck down. She must spend 20 hours a day or more lying flat on her back, hooked up to oxygen. But, do you know what she does with her time? She looks at the ceiling, where someone has written the names of her children to aid her failing memory, and she prays for them over and over until she falls back to sleep. What a legacy!"

I agree, the second woman is leaving a legacy. In fact, she's doing more with her time than the mother-in-law who still is able to walk around, talk, and change channels on the television.

Even though I've heard comparison stories like this before, I was convicted this time. For one thing, I've been sitting around--alone--watching a lot of TV this week. But, I;ve been a fan of vegging out and being lazy for many years, even before I was "supposed" to be selfish because of the baby. It doesn't take long for me to spiral into depression, after days and days of looking out for #1, and that's why I started this blog. I wanted to talk about the things that will make for a good, quality life. I wanted to discuss lasting purpose and leaving a legacy.

It really scared me to picture myself as a 90-year-old, still living life to suit myself. Still not taking my own advice and doing something worthwhile with my time. Still finding ways to indulge my laziness and numb the depression that results.

Luckily, there was a very easy suggestion for changing unwanted behaviors so that we can grow into accomplished and pleasant old people and not angry, wasted bodies. Change your thoughts. For instance, instead of thinking, "I wish my alarm wasn't going off right now," I could be thinking, "God bless my day." Instead of, "These kids are driving my crazy, " I could pray, "Thank you for this job." And, instead of, "I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired! Lord, when can I feel better again?" I could ask, "Give me the strength to do just one thing that impacts somebody today." Or maybe: "Thank you for the chance to prove I'm your servant no matter what."

I'm selfish and lazy. Truly, I am. But I'm excited for the chance to exercise my beliefs and change my thoughts at this crucial time: when I don't necessarily feel like it.

Wow. Long post. I guess the level to which I feel better is directly related to the number of words I use...

Thanks for reading all the way to the end, you Trooper you. And, for a reward, you are invited to talk with me if you need anything (prayer, advice, or something more physical), because I'm totally serious about my desire to serve right now. Thinking about me is exhausting and depressing. Please give me something else to do...

Toodles!


*Look, my first ever footnote. I wanted to let you know I'm writing for Ken Davis now! Someone actually wants to buy my words! And, if you don't know who that is, just trust me that it's a nice break. If you Google his name, you'll see he gets at least 14 O's all to himself. Yeah!

Write-a-Letter Wednesday, Dear Readers #2

Hello, Readers.

I had big plans to write a letter to my little siblings, imparting sisterly wisdom for today's Wednesday tradition. But looking at this computer screen is making me want to throw up.

Later this week, I wanted to talk about dating and engagements, and how two people can "know" they're ready for marriage.... But, the success of this plan will depend on my health as well.

Good news: I'm supposed to be at a meeting tonight, which I may legitimately be able to skip due to the circumstance! NOTE: this meeting would be with CEO, Mr. CEO, and the focus group, all mentioned here.

But, the nasty headache and queasiness also causes me to neglect my blog. (And neither will they allow me to watch TV, read, or generally do anything apart from curling up in the fetal position and whining.) It's official: I would go to the stupid meeting if it meant feeling better.

Anyway, I wanted to offer an explanation, as well as a, "Hey, I'll be back. Don't quit on me. I love you! I still have things to rant about or ponder with you!" Ugh. But the more I add to this message, the more the screen spins....

~Amanda~

Life Isn't an Amusement Park

Yesterday, I was reminiscing about the trips my family used to take to Indiana Beach every summer. (For those not from the Midwest, Indiana Beach is the poor man's Cedar Point or Six Flags...there are booths and rides and a waterpark, all proving "There is More Than Corn in Indiana." But not much more.)

Anyway, when were were young, my brother, Tim, and I thought this little amusement park was the best thing ever. We loved our vacations to the lake, and our parents took us to the fair most years, too. But we couldn't afford tokens or tickets for carnival rides. That is, until we took company-paid trips to Indiana Beach.

I remember the first summer we both measured more than 48 inches tall--enough to ride the crowd-pleasing Cornball Express. As soon as we got off the roller coaster, we would hop the rails and jump right back in line.

We always whined when it was time to stop for lunch with my dad's coworkers. Luckily, the tent in which we pic-nicked was close to the "Kiddie Land" section of the park, and Mom and Dad usually gave us permission to explore those rides on our own, while they finished talking with friends. (During this part of the day, our goal was to get our saucers to spin the fastest...and then we really regretted stopping for lunch.)

One sumer, at the end of a long day full of walking and riding and swimming, I distinctly remember looking at Tim and saying, "Hey! We didn't fight once all day!" And he responded in equally pleased amazement. "That's true! What a good trip!"

My parents laughed at our observation, but it really was an accomplishment to us. When we were home, under ordinary circumstances, my brother and I would bicker at least a couple times a day. Sometimes we would play football or ride bikes with friends, which helped keep the peace a little longer. But arguments were so common, it surprised us when we got along for more than a few hours.

Really, we notice this same phenomenon at the daycare, and we plan our schedule accordingly. When the big kids are at school, we allow the well-behaved young kids more free-choice time. But, as soon as the schoolagers come back, we have snack on the table, followed immediately by outside time. The more we cram the afternoon with activity, the less opportunity they have to fight.

This is typical of kids. But I know adults who still require this accomodation. They need plenty of excitement and out-of-the-ordinary distractions just to play nice with their spouse or kids. These are the same families who buy Big Kid Toys, like vehicles, videogames, and expensive vacations, because they know fewer arguments ensue when all brains are numbed with activity. And when life steers toward monotany--as it's bound to do--nobody knows how to get along.

The problem is, life isn't an amusment park. Even with tons of money and attempts to keep busy constantly, it's impossible to create excitement all the time. And, if you need some type of adreneline rush just to keep the peace in your family, something isn't right. Maybe it's time to grow up.

It's easy to get along when you're having a good time. But, it takes a selfless person--an adult--to play nice with others in all circumstances.

Child Worship

Do you want to baffle your nonChristian friends? Or, maybe you, dear reader, are not a Christian.... Prepare to be baffled.

Try saying: "Children should not be the most important thing in a parent's life."

Oh, there is "no love like a mother's love" for sure. And it's unbelievable how much I've fallen for my little pea-sized baby already. But I'll never say he/she is "my reason for breathing," and there always will be two things more precious to me: my relationship with God and my relationship with my husband.

I know. I'm a monster.

Luke and I were watching Tyra today. (I'll wait for you to stop snickering............) And, the topic of the show was "mama's boys." In true talkshow fashion, there was plenty of drama between fed-up girlfriends and the meddling mother's who won't let their sons grow up. The audience sneered and hissed when a mom told her 26-year-old son, "You can live with me as long as you want because you're my baby. I'll always cook for you and clean for you, and no one can care for you like your mama."

But, the part that raised my eyebrows was when Tyra stepped in and "explained" to one of the women why her relationship with the son was wrong:

"You mentioned that your son is your everything, and that's okay. You're right that your children should be the most important thing in the world. They should be your everything. But, not, like....everything, everything. He is supposed to grow up and be a man at some point. And you can still love him. He can be your number one priority without making him priority all the time..... Does that make sense?"

Oh, yes. Perfect sense. Enlightened perspective. Basically, women can worship their children. But not....worship, worship.... right?

See, everybody recognizes it's unhealthy for a mom to obsess over her 30-year-old child, but they can't articulate why. And this is because society says women are supposed to obsess over their babies--for awhile. It's perfectly acceptable for an otherwise proud, confident, talented woman (who'd die before saying, "I need a man to complete me.") to state willingly that she has no value apart from her offspring. In fact, this makes her a good mom.

But, when the nest empties, is it any wonder why she either latches on to her adult children or spirals into deep depression? Her job is over. There is no greater purpose left for her. She has peeked at 40 or 50.

This is why I say, adamantly, "Those kids never should have been your 'everything, everything' at all."

Luke told me today he's been having the same dream lately--in which something goes terribly wrong at the time of our baby's delivery. The situation is so dire, he has to choose between saving our child and saving my life. Do you know what he said to me?

"In my dream, I grab the doctor by the collar and scream, 'Make sure my wife lives.'"

It's a tough situation to imagine. I pray my husband never, ever, ever has to play out his dream in real life. But, with that kind of conviction, is there any doubt he loves me more than anyone else on earth? And what better way to love our children than to bring them into a home where Mommy and Daddy can model a stable, committed, LOVING relationship?

We worship God. And the next most important thing to both of us is the other. This isn't cruel. Instead, I pray our kids will learn how to cultivate a healthy relationship with their spouses by watching me and Luke.

The "mama's boy" situation is a case of misplaced affection. The family bonds have been distorted. The priorities are out of order. Children are the most selfish people on the planet--and pouring your best energy into them will leave you drained with no hope for a refilling. This is why God instructs the husband and wife to care for eachother's needs first, so there would be something left for the kids.

I'm fully prepared for my babies to take a lot out of me. If I thought God was teaching me selflessness before....I'm just bracing myself for the sleeplessness, the messes, the level of patience I'll need to be a 24-hour caregiver for once.

But I'm so thankful to have a God and husband who will love me even after my child-rearing days are over. As long as I worship the Creator, and not His gifts to me, I'll be shown His purpose for my life which extends even beyond my status as a mother.

Write-a-Letter Wednesday, Dear Best Friend

(I haven't blogged for several days, and I just don't have the soundness of mind to search cyberspace for something thought-provoking today. Instead, here's a letter demonstrating the kind of mood I'm in, as well as my remarkable capacity for servanthood, of course.)

Dear Michelle,

I just called you and left a voicemail, but you must be at work. I ask you, how am I supposed to book a flight to see you in a month if I can't ask the questions on my mind? And that's not one of the questions I was going to ask.

But, really, you should feel loved because flying to Texas, by myself, is not something I would do for just anybody. It's kind of like driving four hours as a surprise, on a whim, after a mere 30 minutes of packing. Whiiiiiiiiich means this is the second time you've inspired this home-body to do something relatively crazy! You're welcome.

Oh, and perhaps you've noticed I haven't blogged anything for days, either? Yeah, I haven't had the time or the energy between taping/painting and being driven into a deep depression at the site of my home. It seriously has crossed that special line between clutter and filth, and it's all I can do not to break down and hire a professional to finish the flooring AND a maid to clean afterward. There's old mail, paint-filled rags, cardboard and plastic jugs which haven't made it to the recycling bin, tools everywhere, and not a single piece of furniture in the correct spot.

Yet, here I am, taking the time to write my best friend. Yes, indeed, feel special. And don't get the idea that I'm simply hiding here in computer land to escape that drowning sensation. I've only been online for two and a half hours....

Okay, okay, I'll stop the guilt trip. (Trip! Get it?!)
I mean, this is going to be a fun adventure south of the Mason-Dixon--regardless of any nervousness I feel. And everybody should be a little crazy before they have kids, right? (This is not the time to point out that taking a plane trip is not, technically, the definition of crazy.) But I want you to know I'm looking forward to it, and that--should you choose to move to Texas--I would prepare myself to take this journey many more times in the future. Just for you.

Don't move to Texas.

Call me soon so we can proceed with this unusual conversation. I think I've taken the dialog as far as it will go, acting as both parties. And that's not good if I hope to continue my avoidance behavior. I'd appreciate if you dial and hit "send" just before I take the lid off the paint can. Please? It's the least you could do since....you know. :)

With anticipation for an actual chat,
~ME~

Dance with Me

That's it, precisely, exactly, everything I've been trying to say on this blog. He summed it up completely. But, Dr. Timothy Keller went further by helping me understand exactly why selfishness is so destructive, and why love and service are all that matters. Who knew it all hinged on the doctrine of the Trinity?


But, it makes so much sense now: If God were unipersonal (just one), then He would have to be egotistical and only concerned about the individual. As a single God, He would have to love Himself, to glorify Himself. He would be "selfish."

But, because God is three-in-one, He displays perfect love and perfect selflessness within His three persons. Forever, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit have been pouring out themselves and lifting up the others, in what Dr. Timothy Keller calls a "dance."


I was feeling tired and a little queezy today. My living room still is half-finished, and it's hard to clean the toilet and do the vacuuming when those things make such a small dent in the overall mess. Bored, depressed, and a little unmotivated, I decided to check out one of the sermons recommended to me by my highschool science teacher, Heather Mackinnon.

Best. Decision. This. Week.

Dr. Timothy Keller brought me back to the point--the bottom-line of life. And if only you and I could wrap our heads around this concept in practice, there would be no reason to continue my blog. About forty-five minutes after I dragged myself to the computer to listen, I feel affirmed, loved, and inspired to move. I'm motivated to dance around my house with a dust cloth and a song of praise, because I'm part of a Heavenly dance. I know a little piece of the secret. And I want you to dance, too.

(Thanks, Miss Mack, for recognizing my heart and sending a relevent message to cultivate it!)

Write-a-Letter Wednesday, Dear God

Dear God,

I tried to write to You yesterday, but I got interrupted. And, since I have the Wednesday letter on my mind, and since I have things to say to You, and since I've delayed our conversation long enough, here I am.

My mood has been all over the place, and--as I anticipated--the transition in which pregnancy has thrown me is affecting my habits. For some reason, when something big happens in my life, my alone time with You gets knocked out of whack first. In this case, I'm spending a lot of time sleeping. And, during the few hours I'm awake, I feel an overwhelming need to work on house projects and run errands, which leaves little time to be still. I'm sorry.

Thankfully, because of the life you're knitting inside me, I haven't reverted into the usual pattern of depression that follows a streak of selfishness. My soul can't help praising you every time I think about the miracle you're performing right now, and the baby makes You hard to ignore. Even when I'm trotting to the bathroom and replacing my beloved salty foods with veggies, I'm awed and excited by the fact that you know this child already. You've chosen me to be its mother. This event helps me see Your presence in my life.

But, I'm not happy with the very little time I've set apart for You. It's not enough to make a quick request for safety in the car or to say "Thank You" as I'm drifting to sleep at night. Even my daily Bible reading is more habitual than spiritual, and I need much more of You than that. I need you so badly I don't even understand it myself.

Today, I saw an article in a Christian periodical that was called "Is God a Dictator?" and I couldn't even read it. Maybe it was You who whispered in my ear:
What difference does it make? Dictator, Permissive Parent, or President, it doesn't matter. Those who wonder these things are missing the point."

Asking whether You're a dictator is like convincing the world that hostile aliens are coming to kill us all and writing articles called, "Do you think they will have blonde hair?" It doesn't matter!Lord, Your impact on this world is much, much bigger than Your leadership style. If You are there, in your all-powerful, unimaginable, perfectly-loving glory, You can rule however You want.

If I really understood your character, I would shake. If I could wrap my mind around your very existence--if I could recognize that You are more significant and life-altering than a host of planet-destroying aliens--I would not struggle to make time for You. I would fall on my knees and beg You to show me just one more glimpse of Your face. I would, at the very least, stop painting walls for a few minutes a day to tell You there is no meaning to my life unless You're in it.

Dad, thank you for waiting patiently for me to call when I'm suffering from self-absorbtion. Thank You for showing up and blowing me away every time I look for You. You're a big deal; YOU are the point. Please help me pass this test and walk closely with You, even though life has been turned upside down. Show me another glimpse of Your face, and I will worship You forever.

In the Holy name of Jesus I ask,
Amen