I guess it has been awhile...

        Oops!  I forgot about this thing until tonight for several different reasons, the most pressing being too busy and not sure what to write about.  It sounds lame to write about the fact that I am too busy because I feel like for the past two years I have been too busy, and that topic gets old.  I also find it useless trying to explain the things that God has been revealing to me because I am not totally sure if I quite understand everything that is being exposed.  I am not even sure if I should continue writing because a lot of the times... I guess I feel like I am making a fool out of myself.  My hope is that through my words and my gifting, God would teach someone about hope, love, or even Himself.  That people out there would see His mercy and His grace by the actual outpouring of all of the above on a horrible sinner.  That is what I am by the way... a prideful sinner who spends most of her time making little things into idols instead of focusing on the one true God! 

          One of my best friends is getting married soon.  In August, my husband and I are going to get to take part in the celebration of two lives becoming one.  Marriage is such a beautiful thing, and I am more the blessed to say that I get to stand for this marriage.  My sister-in-law is starting to show with her fourth child, and it is, of course, a girl.  An old roommate of mine who became my sister-in-law about a year ago came to visit recently.  God was gracious to bring our paths to cross because admist changing seasons, we definitely left eachother along the road.  I shed some tears now as I think about her and how much I honestly just miss her.  We held one another and discussed a few topics that we had time to discuss, and then she was gone again.  The other night, before we went to sleep, I asked my husband how his heart was doing.  He smiled and said that he felt good... the best he has felt in a long time, probably since the miscarriage.  His words struck me.  I had found so much peace about the miscarriage and in a lot of ways, I have found blessings.  I guess I haven't been paying much attention to how my husband was still so affected.

         Life is happening, but I feel as if most of the time, I am not paying attention.  I like to be organized, but organization can become an idol just like natural eating, working out, and ministry.  When whatever IT IS becomes our main focus, we create an idol.  Am I ruined by my clocks and lists and plans?  Admist all that is, do I still have room for the spontanity of life?  Am I hindering the Holy Spirit by being too much of this or that?  I long to be healthy, clean, and organized, but I desire more than that to have a home of joy, freedom, and growth.  I find myself back in Proverbs 31.  These verses have hung heavy on my heart this past year as I have tried to learn how to become a wife.  I come to this, "She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come." (verse 25).

           Yesterday, I got home from work and immediately started cleaning house and preparing the menu for house church.  I began to do this and that without even thinking about serving the Lord and creating an atmosphere of joy.  House Church was great, but at one point a friend of mine went into my bedroom to nurse her newborn.  Her toddler son continued to go in and out of the bedroom to see his mother.  I cringed.  My bedroom was messy.  The bed wasn't made, and there were clothes on the floor.  I spent a good amount of time at church thinking about that stupid bedroom.  By the end of the night, I was so stressed I knew that I had created another idol in my life. 

My prayer... God create in me a spirit of peace and understanding so that I may laugh at the days to come.  Demolish the idols that I have created.    

Alabama Heroes

Last night, I was in the kitchen cooking, and I turned too sharply causing the heel of my foot to get caught between the floor and the bottom of the cabinet. My stomach clenched when the pain of a cut and scraped heel reached my body. I tried to do the "grit your teeth" method, but I soon realized that I had not felt pain like this in awhile, and there was no grit your teeth. Unable to walk I fell to the ground, and as stupid as I am sure I looked and felt, I began to cry. My body began to shake and the blood began to come. I look at it now, and it is really such a little cut for such a big pain. My husband immediately jumped to action. He grabbed a wet rag and knelt down on the heel to apply pressure. Inside, I wanted to say that the rag was dirty, but I couldn't speak by this point. He held pressure until I got calm enough to hold the rag myself. He then quickly jumped to bandage the wound with wrap and band aid. He walked me over to the couch where I curled into his arms. My husband...my hero.

Later that night, I was trying to unpack some things from my trip to Alabama. I started opening up bags from my thrift store shopping spree and revealed to my husband the four pairs of pants, several t-shirts, and countless other shirts ready for the summer. Each thing I pulled out of a bag became my husband's new favorite thing. I was a hero.


As children, we are taught that heroes wear funny clothes, fight big monsters, and fly. As we grow a little older we may recognize that heroes wear a police uniform or fight fires. However, soon, I hope we come to the realization that we are all heroes when we look outside ourselves and care for another person. My husband could have told me to take care of the wound myself, and I would have eventually been able to do as such. He was a hero when he jumped to my rescue. He is my hero everyday that he goes to work so that our family can be supported. I could have spent all the money in the clothing budget on myself, but instead, I chose to be a hero and give. Yesterday, a future landlady became our hero when she revealed to us that our rent was going to be cheaper than she had recently stated. I long to be a hero, but I forget that I am one in my own home when I take care of things and love others before myself.

This past week, I got to spend some time with some wonderful heroes in Alabama... the Varians. The Varians took me in several years ago without knowing anything about my past or even my present. They loved me and allowed me to spend holidays with their family. The first Christmas I spent with them, I was amazed that in their Christmas shopping, they had remembered me! Mrs. Varian spends so much time teaching me about becoming a woman of God caring for a family. She takes me to shops and teaches me how to cook yummy and healthy foods that are a blessing to my husband. She has taught me so much about building healthy relationships and being hospitable. She has opened up her home, her heart, and her life to me. She is transparent, revealing me when she is failing and rejoicing in my victories. She was at my wedding, and in my wedding. She is not afraid to go along with me on adventures whether that means to the store or just through my heart. Several years ago, when I first stumbled upon the Varians, I remember praying for a woman of God to teach me how to become a woman of God, and my prayers were definitely answered. I am blessed to the extreme by this woman. I never go to the Varians without coming back with a car full of practical things. This trip it was clothes and mason jars. Soon, this amazing woman just became Ms. Mary. She is Ms. Mary to many people, and I know when she gets to heaven, she will be rewarded for her service. I find it ironic that though her name is Mary she looks and acts like a Martha. However, sometimes I believe that Ms. Mary has learned how to worship like a Mary in her Martha life. I could only hope to live that kind of life.

Mr. V can be a scary human being at first. He is big, loud, and opinionated. Several nights I have sat in his living room discussing things about the word, politics, and life. Though we may not always agree, he still values my opinion and I love his wisdom. My little red car is a gift from God, but it was Mr. V that worked countless hours in getting it fixed up for me, and it was Mr. V that made me drive the dang thing home from Alabama even though I had no clue how to drive a standard. It was Mr. V that challenged me on the way that I treated guys when I was younger and very clueless. It was Mr. V that drove his family to Arkansas for my wedding, and it was Mr. V that allowed his family to go to New York with me so that I could finally discover my dream of being in New York City. Mr. V is one of those people that you just enjoy being around after awhile.

Ms. Mary and Mr. V are not my parents. I have those. These people are heroes. They have four children and without knowing me at all, they adopted me into their hearts and life. I even made their Christmas letter one time. They really are my Alabama family, and I hope that my children gets as excited as I do when we get to go visit. I also hope for a car with a DVD player because that is a LONG trip. The past few trips to the Varians have been different. I do not go to seek wisdom or practical things, but I go now to be an encourager and love them and their children. I go there now to pray and bring a little Paula personality into their lives. I still learn more than I could ever imagine. This past trip was all about grace. I guess this post makes little to no sense, but I wanted to give credit where credit was due.

Go be a hero today.