Red Shirt, Blue Shirt (not to be confused with Red Pill, Blue Pill)

So, what about all those seemingly non-ethical, non-moral decisions in my life? Like... should I do yoga or run today? Or go for the turkey and Swiss or ham and cheddar? Or wear the red shirt or the blue shirt? What SHOULD I chose? Does it even matter? Does God even care about these decisions?

I propose He does and even, in fact, that there might be a right and wrong about each choice. The answers to those questions lies deep in my heart. Although this may seem mysterious (and quite unreachable for many), it really is rather simple... How do I WANT to exercise? What do I PREFER to eat today? Do I really LIKE red or blue better? (And remember, we are talking about non-ethical, non-directly-biblically-addressed issues here).

But why do my personal preferences matter, especially when the question is what SHOULD I do? They matter because I am made in the image of God uniquely. I am the only me He created. And as the creation reflects the Creator, my unique personality, my likes and dislikes, my preferences, reflect Him also... UNIQUELY. Each one of us are made uniquely so that we fit together uniquely, in a beautifully orchestrated body that intensely needs each of its other parts, in an intricately woven plan including all of us.

But in order for me to fully develop the gifts and talents the Lord has created in me, that the rest of the Body needs in order to function according to His will, I have to follow the old "know thyself" wisdom. Not as an end in myself, but as an opportunity to grow even closer to the One who created me; to learn about who He is and to learn to love the unique plan He has for me inside that glorious will.

Knowing myself has many other benefits, of course, like being able to recognize my own will (and therefore recognize its compatibility with the Lord's will) and reaching a deeper understanding of the depths of my own sinfulness and therefore need for a Savior. But there is a whole slew of Greek tragedies and Socratic ramblings out there for those who want to delve further. For now I'm just going to put on my red shirt.

Heart Healer

This weekend on a little trip to the Buffalo River with my family, my parents got a little miffed at eachother and my mother said something about feeling like she couldn't do anything right. I felt a little uncomfortable and excused myself outdoors to "pack" for a while to give them a chance to work it out without an audience. Little did I (or my parents) realize there were a couple of little ears listening to their tiff.

Later when I walked into the cabin, I see my mother bleary-eyed and sniffling, so I ask if she is alright. She proceeds to tell me that India walked up to her and said, "I want to hold you MiMi." My mother picks her up and India begins to comfort her saying, "I love you, MiMi. Nobody's perfect. Not mommy or daddy or Uncle Dusty or Bailey - do you know Bailey Blair? It's okay. Nobody's perfect except God and Jesus." And my mother just bawls.

I love my girl India. In that moment, she reflected the heart of God.

Go.

Beginning last August, the Lord began leading Cass and me on an adventure. He's asked Cass to pursue his music more by encouraging him through others and building his passion to create and perform. We don't know what this looks like practically, but we can see He has something else planned for us.

Sadly this means we have left New Life Ranch. We've bought a house and Cass is currently delving into new forms of employment (mostly handyman stuff and small music ventures). It was very hard for us to leave with all the wonderful gifts New Life Ranch has too offer, the least of which is a great job where you know what you do matters. We loved serving there and have been served in at least as many ways as we have given. I can hardly imagine not growing my kids up there amongst such loving people in a beautiful valley set apart.

We chose to let everyone know BEFORE we had a plan, because we felt we could make better decisions with the support and wisdom of the loving people around us. We also knew we might look a little bit like lunatics, running out on a very safe-looking living and job situation in a very unsafe-looking economy. But really, what's safer... depending on our fallible, limited selves to take care of our money, health insurance, stability and pride or depending on a loving, all-knowing God who's done nothing less than sacrifice his very life to be near us? Do we take the risks (with kids in mix, I might add) to follow a faint, yet clear calling of the God we know?

After weighing the risks of living on my own terms or living to seek the Lord Jesus, I had to go for the calling. I feel confident in what I know and what I've seen of the Lord's work in my life. In calling me out of the inescapable vortex of selfishness I knew before Him, in bringing me to Cass, in forgiving me of seemingly unforgivable errors and then redeeming me in spite of them, in caring for me in ways I never could have cared for myself. I had to go for it.

The Stepsister

When we were at Wal-Mart the other day, looking at costumes for Halloween, India debated for about 10 minutes about which princess she wanted to be. As I was trying to coax her toward the $15 costumes (rather than the $20 Disney costumes), she suddenly stopped and stared at me and said loud enough for anyone w/in 100 feet to hear, "Mom, I think I want to be a stepsister."

"What?!?" I asked, thinking I had heard her wrong.

"A stepsister!" She yelled even louder. We quickly grabbed up the gaudiest, poofiest hoop skirt sort of southern belle dress they had and headed for the register. I'm sure you'll see those pictures soon.

Tired

Cass got 4 hours of sleep last night; on the early end because he couldn't sleep, on the late end because he had to leave for church at 6:30. Then we spent all day doing things that had to be done. All day literally. It's now 11:23 and he's still down in the shop working on the recruiting display. He's tired. He misses us. We miss him. Every time Jude heard or saw him today he began his "Daddy! Daddy!" chant which he yells like a football cheer, then ran straight into his arms and held him for as long as they both could handle it. Precious.

Dark

Tonight India, Jude and I walked home for about a mile in complete darkness, except for a few twinkling stars above us. This wasn't the faded navy of the city, but the deep, dark, you-have-to-let-your-eyes-adjust midnight black of the country night.

It was beautiful. India was a bit scared at first, saying she couldn't see me, but after a few minutes they both began oohing and aahing, with giggling mixed in between. The crickets crooned and I found myself wondering what I was stepping on (and in maybe?).

The silencing of my sight was a blessing. I could focus on my hilarious stroller companions, the faithfulness of my dog and the lullaby provided by our Father in Heaven. Thank you Jesus.

Toothpaste

Yesterday morning my son spent a full 20 minutes in timeout over putting the toothpaste back in the drawer. Yes, 20 minutes. Now, before you think I'm inhumane, please know that I gave him a chance EVERY MINUTE to chose to put the tube away. And EVERY MINUTE he refused.

"Jude, are you ready to put the toothpaste in the drawer."
"Uh uh."
"Okay, timeout."
(one minute later)
"Jude, you need to obey mommy. It's time to put the toothpaste away. It's not a toy. Let's go put it away, okay?"
"Uh uh."
"Okay, timeout."
(one minute later)
"Jude, are you ready to put the toothpaste away now?"
"Yeah!"
"Okay, good boy! Let's go..."
Stands up, stares at toothpaste, gets glazed look in his eyes.
"Jude? Come on, buddy. Let's go. Pick up the toothpaste."
Still staring. Now starts picking up his feet and rocking back and forth, APPEARING to start to walk toward the toothpaste, but really not even getting an inch closer.
"Jude, are you going to get the toothpaste?"
"Uh uh."
I roll my eyes and resist banging my head on the wall. "Okay buddy. Timeout." (continues for 18 more minutes).

Now while all this is going on, I am thinking..."Is this too hard for him? Am I asking too much? I mean, he's only 18 months old. Maybe he doesn't understand. Does he even understand the word 'drawer?' It's a big one. Maybe this is totally unreasonable. Maybe I'm too demanding. A slave driver. Who am I to think my 18 month old baby needs to be doing chores like this. Gosh, Brandi. Just put in the drawer for him. Are you really too lazy to just pick up the dang toothpaste and put it in the drawer? This is such a waste of time on a busy day! One more try..."

Then I got smart and said, "Okay, Jude. You just stay there until you're ready to put it away," praying this would not be a 5 hour stand off. Then I would really feel like a slave driver. (All this , by the way, is in between him getting out of bed on the way to the kitchen, so he hasn't even had breakfast yet.) I then walk into the bathroom to do something and (I'm not exaggerating here) TWO SECONDS LATER he waddles in and drops the toothpaste into the drawer.

Seriously. Who is in charge here? Who runs this ship? And I thought he didn't understand the word "drawer."