Hale and Hearty Words

December 5, 2011 · 6:00 am

Putting Words In God’s Mouth

I’m curious.

What does God’s voice sound like?

If I had to guess, I think it would be a cross between Morgan Freeman, Charleton Heston, Edward Hermann, Michael Buble or Frank Sinatra, and someone who has a super-deep bass. Someone like the old gospel singer, JD Sumner.

But I don’t really know, because I’ve never heard it.

So when someone says, “God spoke to me,” what does that really mean?

There have only been a few times in my life, and really, I can count them on one hand, when I know that God has been speaking to me in a specific moment.

The rest of the time, I’ve either discerned his “voice” after a lesson He’s wanted me to learn, or via scripture, or based on a recurring theme that seems to pop up in my life, making me aware that He wants me to pay attnetion to something specific.

But sometimes I worry–am I really hearing him, or am I putting words in His mouth?

Have you ever opened the Bible and read a scripture that seemed to directly apply to a situation in your life, or seemed to answer a question you’d been pondering?

Is that God speaking, or is that pure coincidence?

I never want to judge too quickly on that one. I never want to assume that God is speaking to me just because I come across something that seems to answer my question or address my problem, or just because I suddenly have a “feeling”.

We all know that feelings can be fleeting.

So what do I do in this situation? I pray.

I pray for discernment. I pray for guidance. I pray that if God is genuinely speaking, that he’ll make it clear so that I’ll have no doubt.

Sometimes He does, and other times I know I’ve tried to put words in His mouth.

I’ve heard people claim that they’ve heard God “speak” to them, and I wonder…did He really?

I certainly can’t judge another person’s relationship with God, but I do know one thing–

You can’t hear God if you aren’t listening.

You can’t hear him if you aren’t being still, taking the opportunity to sit in His presence and develop a relationship so close that when He does speak, you recognize Him immediately.

And you can’t hear Him if you are talking over Him–putting words in His mouth.

But I’ve never “heard” the voice of God, and like many of you, I wish I could.

I yearn for a burning bush that would speak to me, clarifying the things I worry about.

I yearn for a mountain to scale and be in the presence of the Holy One who would blind me with his very countenance.

But I’ll settle for the ways in which I do hear him. They aren’t audible, but they work for me.

My son’s know when their father is calling them. They recognize his voice. They know what he means. They understand his inflection and tone, and they know better than to put words in his mouth.

That’s the kind of relationship I want with my Heavenly Father; one in which I know him so well that recognizing his voice is automatic, instinctive, and equated with a love deeper than my own understanding.

Share with me: How does God speak to you? How do you know it’s Him?

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Filed under The Christian Walk

Tagged as God

December 2, 2011 · 6:00 am

Boys Being Boys Makes Me Tired

Apparently I was unprepared to be the mother of boys.

Since my oldest is 5 and a half, you’d think that I’d have gotten the hang of it by now, but clearly, every day is an adventure.

The weird thing is, the more I learn about being the mother of boys, the more I learn to understand my husband.

I know that might sound nuts, but things I’m learning about my children’s development help me have those “ah-ha!” moments about the Super-hubby.

For example, it’s pretty much a given that when I pick my son up from school and greet him with, “how was your day?” I’m going to get this response: “Fine.”

No matter how many specific questions I ask him, I get brief, detail-less responses. It takes the rest of the day for him to slowly reveal the details of the school day.

One day I picked him up and got the standard responses, only to find out about three hours later that the fire truck had come to his school and his class had gone outside to talk to the firefighters and climb on and explore the truck. He said it was the coolest part of his day.

Had he been female, I’m pretty sure he would have told me that detail immediately upon entering the car at the pickup line, especially after I asked, “what’s the coolest part of your day?”

So I’ve really seen how a male brain processes–girls want to divulge details quickly. Boys are a little slower, and details aren’t always necessary.

I’m not always going to get to know what my son had for snack at school that day. It’s not relevant to his immediate need to communicate with me, therefore it’s a detail that goes unspoken.

My hubby operates similarly. It sometimes takes days for him to “remember” some detail of something he wanted to tell me. Like his co-worker is expecting a new baby, for example. Not relevant to his immediate life, therefore it took days for me to find out.

The other thing about boys that I’m having to simply accept is that they are gross. Seriously gross.

They find bodily functions hilarious. What’s up with that??

It doesn’t matter how many times I demand manners or beg for them to stop and act like gentlemen, passing gas is funny to a boy.

My two year old has decided that using “dirty” words is funny. Stinky, gross, smelly, do-do, wee-wee, and dirt are some of his favorites. (These are the dirtiest he can think of, apparently.) And when he really wants to crack himself up, he goes around shouting “Lady GaGa!” Go figure. We’re not fans of hers, so I’ll lump her in with the “dirty” words.

I don’t get it. I don’t get the whole hilarity of bodily functions. It’s one of the things I wonder if I’ll ever get used to. I expect them to have proper behavior in public, but I’m never guaranteed of such things.

In our house, we call passing gas, “a beep.” Silly as that may be, my five year old came up with that when he was tiny and told me one day that his “bottom beeped.”

A few weeks ago I was out shopping with the two year old when an older gentleman stopped us in the parking lot. He said something like, “What a fine looking young man you have!”

“Thank you,” I replied.

The man held out his hand for my youngest to shake and said, “What’s your name, son?”

My little man stuck his hand out and said plainly, “My name is Beeps!” Then he dissolved into giggles.

I had to explain that my son’s name was not Beeps, but I didn’t bother to explain why my little guy had spontaneously decided to introduce himself as such. *sigh*

I’ll continue to expect proper manners, but I think being gross is built into their DNA. I don’t think a man ever outgrows finding certain things funny. Yep, hubby is guilty as charged. *sigh again*

And lastly–boys are insane.

Bodily harm is never a deterrent for them when an adventure is to be had.

Whether it’s climbing the tallest “mountain” in our house (a dresser) or seeing if they can actually jump from the coffee table onto the couch, or seeing how long they can last while shooting each other with nerf darts, a challenge is a challenge, and must be accepted.

We’ve already made a few trips to emergency care. So far we’ve only had a few stitches, but no doubt a broken bone won’t be far off. *double sigh*

And Super-hubby can often be found right in the thick of whatever adventure is being had. I have a “look” I give him when he’s too excited about something that is dangerous. Like blowing up tomatoes with M-80s. Not an adventure I’ll ever be ready for my boys to have.

*I’m tired already.*

Share with me: Mothers of boys–what have you learned about raising sons? Any handy advice? Any crazy stories?

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Tagged as boys

November 30, 2011 · 6:00 am

Mama Changed Happily Ever After

Every girl wants to be a princess–like the perfect examples of young royalty–the Disney princesses.

So what do you need to become a Disney princess?
1. A killer singing voice.
2. A mysterious prince charming.
3. A villain who wants you dead.
4. The noticeable lack of a mother.

Snow White— no mom, just an evil step-mom who doubles as the villain, wanting her dead, of course.
Cinderella— no mom, again, just an evil step-mom who hates her guts.
Aurora from Sleeping Beauty— has a mom, but didn’t grow up with her, so still no real influence. And 3 fairies don’t count.
Jasmine from Aladdin— no mom.
Ariel from The Little Mermaid— no mom.
Belle from Beauty and the Beast— no mom.
Rapunzel from Tangled— has a mom, but like Sleeping Beauty, didn’t grow up with her. Instead she was raised by an evil witch.
And I’m sorry, but I’m old school, so Mulan, Tiana and Pocahontas don’t really count as Disney princesses. Although I’d like to point out–Pocahontas–no mom.

So, how would the stories have gone if these girls had had a mom actively involved in their lives?

I’ll tell ya how–there would have been a heck of lot less drama, and Little Princess would have had to wait until an appropriate age to end up with P.C. (Prince Charming.) These girls might not have been so eager to seek out a man, and I doubt that many mamas would have put up with the shenanigans.

Let’s take Ariel for example. How many mamas would have stood quietly by and let their 16 year old daughter give up her voice to chase down a man she hardly knows? And on land, no less. (Under ‘da sea, under ‘da sea…) I can imagine Ariel’s mama swimming after her, dragging her back to their coral castle and locking her up in a conch shell, at least until she could figure out what to do next.

Belle– how many mamas would have allowed their daughter to trade her life for her father’s and become the prisoner of a hideous beast for all time? Her mama would have gone with her father on his journey, made him stop for directions, and they would have made it to the fair on time, thus avoiding the castle in the forest and snuffing out the entire story. The beast would still be there, beastly, waiting for that last petal to fall.

Aurora– do you honestly think that her mama would have allowed her to end up Happily Ever After at the age of 16 with P.C.? Her mama actually tried to avoid the whole finger-pricking snafu by sending her to the forest to be raised by three fairies. Little Briar Rose might have been safer in the castle.

Jasmine– Her mama would have been forced to, by law, make her daughter pick a suitor as a husband, thus ending the whole tomfoolery about choosing a man and Jas probably never would have jumped the wall to meet Aladdin. She would have helped with the search, scouring the known world until an acceptable man could be found. And she would have thrown Jafar in prison a long time ago.

Cinderella– clearly this one, along with the story of Snow White, is self-explanatory. Had Mama been around, the evil step-mothers would not have existed, and the stories would have lost their villains and ended much differently.

And Rapunzel. Rapunzel’s mama didn’t have a choice–her baby was stolen from her. Still, Rappie lacked that nurturing mother figure in her life, thus causing her to fall directly into the arms of the first man who scaled her tower (a thief, no less.) Good thing said thief mended his ways.

I think that this little breakdown proves that the mother-daughter relationship is invaluable. In most cases, it is based on a strong bond and affects a person, namely a character in a story, in such a way that it would completely alter the outcome of any problem.

In a stressful situation, who would these princesses have turned to for advice? For compassion? For understanding? Mama, of course. Wisdom would have been imparted and guidance given (in some cases even discipline from Mama that the daddy’s girl wouldn’t elicit from the man wrapped around her little finger) and the endings to the stories would have been much different.

In my current novel (the one I’m working on as you read) my main character, like the Princesses above, has lost her mother. Without that guiding force in her life, she’s veering wildly, making choices that wisdom might have prevented.

It’s an interesting thing, the mother-daughter bond. In many cases it can make you or break you.

Inspiration of the week: My mom is my best friend, and I’m blessed to have her in my life. She’s a listening ear, a compassionate heart, an adoring fan, and a loving friend. She’s also a wealth of wisdom and generous with her time. I love you, Mama!

Share with me: How do you think the mother-daughter bond affects a story? What’s your relationship like with your own mom and how has it affected the choices you’ve made in your life?