A special welcome if you’re visiting from Preston’s blog! Feel free to poke around and subscribe on the right if you’d like. I’d be honored.
If you’re a regular reader, hop on over to Preston’s blog to see my post about the beautiful church. Here is an excerpt in the meantime~
Children wander the streets and congregate in the church
parking lot. When I pull my car up four
times a week, the kids flock with an excitement that seems be God saying, “Caroline, here are my children; now, bring
them to Me.” Sometimes I feel like “the mission” is just as much for me
relearning—daily—the Gospel of Christ.I am surrounded by more non-Christians while at church than
I am anytime throughout the week. These
non-Christians in church humble me to the core, but they remind me of what I
have—and the only thing I have—The
Gospel. They remind me that what I
have received changes everything, and they
remind me how desperately I need to spill the Hope of Christ with every
opportunity.Yes, we need to share the Gospel with those who haven’t
heard it, but perhaps the Gospel also should be repeated, shared, and quoted to
us who know Christ just as often. When the Gospel rolls off our lips and
conveyed through our love, it transforms us.
It has transformed me.
I love and treasure the Gospel
more now because of the inexplicable beauty of seeing it hit the ears of those
within my church.
This coming Saturday my closest friends– my Texan bridesmaids– and I are running the Hot Chocolate 5k/15k. I’m stoked. We’re all running the same race, but we’re training with completely different goals.
On Friday after running 10 miles I could barely bring myself to walk the .25 back to my house. I made it to my front porch and immediately fell asleep in a lawn chair– who knew you could go from exercising to napping so quickly? Probably not so healthy.
Back in the day I quit in the middle of a race and sat down. Yes, sat down on the sideline. Thus, my goal is to cross the 15k finishline… and not immediately fall asleep.
Hanna is trying to complete the 15k fast. She doesn’t do anything without 110% plus some.
Catie might be running the 5k for the chocolate and fondue at the end of the race.
The 5k will be Nincy’s first race. She’s been working diligently to get up to 3 miles– each run she’s so close but she keeps coming up short. This morning she called herself pathetic for not making it 3 miles.
Boy, I’ve felt like that. If I dwell on it too much, I can let Hanna’s goal of running faster get to me too, just like most people would love to have Nincy’s discipline of running 2.5 miles every day.
I know Nincy can run 3.1. Easily. The laws of running tell me she can. But, I also know that the world keeps turning whether or not she makes it, and the world will keep turning if I stumble across the 15k finish line within an hour (yea right!) or 3 hours.
I’m such a fan of goals. I keep them before me always; they keep me disciplined. But, I also know that goals can be the strongest voice of condemnation in my life. They tells me lies as my head hits the pillow, reminding me that I didn’t do what I wanted to do.
Self-esteem should never be dependent upon 6/10′s of a mile or a matter of minutes or… a few pounds, grades, a bank statement, or a job.
We are all going to put our best foot forward (a million times over!), and step-by-step all 4 of us are going to cross the finish line. And no matter how we do, there’s going to be chocolate at the end.
In the words of my fiance who keeps me in check, it’s about the process not the result.
It’s about training, not the time.
It’s about a healthy lifestyle, not the scale.
It’s about sharing the gospel, not the conversion.
It’s about education, not the grade.
May goals be our friends & keep us from sitting down during the race, but never be the holder of self-esteem.
Run on.
After spending time with the Lord this morning, I left with my soul refreshed.
Gift #7: The Word.
The opportunity to meet with the Creator of the universe each morning is an honor, privilege, certainly a reason to rejoice. Amen?
As I had my Bible sprawled across my lap in one of the cliche Christian moments [complete with a cup of coffee!], I was reminded of a project my friend Jill is doing.
Not everyone has a Bible to read…. or 5 like I do. Not everyone can daily commune with the Lord through His Word. Not everyone can get to Mardel and pick up a new one when the binding gives out.
and Jill is doing something to help. By doodling fancy pictures like the one above, she’s working to translate a book of the Bible for the Ehty people in South Asia who don’t have the Bible in their own language. She’s inspiring because she’s actually doing something, and she’s empowering because she’s letting us partake.
I’m jumping on board, and I encourage/dare you to too. It’s a way to take one of our gifts and give a gift to someone else.
Check out her site for some cool drawings and see what she’s doing to… change the world for an entire group of people. Here’s the link!
I’ve become somewhat obsessed with a new workout class called Body Pump. You must try it.
For the past 4 weeks I’ve gone 3 times a week and stood in the exact same spot. Mirrors line the front of the room, so as you’re dying from the workout, you also conveniently watch yourself die. At the end of the class you feel great, but watching yourself die for 3 hours a week is painful, especially since there’s no elegant way to struggle lifting weights.
Today, I moved across the room, and as I faced the mirror I realized I looked completely different. Whoa.
Another girl in the class noticed my confusion, and said “oh! The mirror where you normally stand is distorted. I never stand there!” The distorted mirror made me extra short and stocky to say the least, but I had stood there for so long I believed its lies and was then surprised by the truth.
We look in mirrors constantly throughout the day and not just ones with a physical reflection. We use mirrors to see ourselves– see how we’re doing, how we are measuring up, whether or not we’re making enough money, working out enough, being productive enough.
What other distorted mirrors do you look into daily? They’re everywhere. Comparisons with Ms. Fashion, self-doubt, striving for perfection, the happy-go-lucky FRIENDS lifestyle, & the happily-ever-after Belle romance are just some among many. We live our lives in a not-so-fun “Fun House.”
He says that you are a chosen child of God, redeemed, loved dearly, and He has a purpose for you complete with a plan He’s orchestrating now for your future.
Linger a while in front of that mirror. How refreshing truth can be.
Numero 6.
These little kiddos might just make it into my lists of gifts every week.
Tonight we talked about Joseph and his coat of many colors, and then put on our own coats– or, PJ’s, Hawaiian shirts, or whatever suited their fancy.
They teach me more than I think I teach them. Their elementary school attention span is about 15 seconds, and I wish they could coordinate those 15 seconds with each other so we could at least talk in 15 second bits. Until we master that skill, I trust that little ounces of truth slip into their minds that they can cling to… forever.
There were 9 kids tonight- one ducking on the left and one other who is always a step behind.
9 little gifts to remind me that I need a parenting class before I start having kids.
9 little gifts to remind how precious the gospel is and how deeply I want others to know it.
I wear myself out running, push myself to the limit (3.5 weeks until the half!), but there’s nothing more worthwhile than wearing myself out with these kids.
I was wearing boots and my buddy Maizeanne was wearing flip flops. That’s Texas in January for ya.
Should I dress based on the fact that it’s 70 degrees outside or the fact that it’s smack dab middle of January? The woes of seasonal confusion.
Can I just confess that life change is a bit like the middle of January in Texas?
Whether you’re moving from college to the workplace, single to marriage, Texas to Minnesota, Job 1 to Job 2, or quiet to baby… change can leave questions with simply no clear-cut answer.
I’m not too worried about what shoes to wear, but I do sometimes get tripped up on looking what others are doing. I’m confident in myself until… I see what someone else has done. I compare myself to Maize’s flipflops and then question my boots, when in my Missourian mind, boots make so much more sense. And to be honest, comparisons run deeper– am I good enough? am I smart enough? Those around me can seem like they have everything together complete with a bow; they appear as anomalies, when in reality, they are just like me.
The change of seasons can illicit self doubt and moments of introspective crumbling as you look around at others getting married or starting jobs or choosing to travel the world before doing either. One is not right or better. They’re just shoes in a season of transition. Calm the deep, accusing questions you ask yourself in the deepest part of your soul.
Maizeanne probably questioned her own flipflops, and I guarantee she didn’t question my boots the same way I did. Be a friend to yourself, not the accuser.
When we drop the arrows of comparison, we see that confidence comes from who we are in Christ. He sees us as blameless, children of God. It’s too much grace to comprehend.
I think this is a glimpse of what it means to walk in freedom– an utterly divine freedom.
Reading Ignatius for class and he reminded me– deep within my heart– of the power behind something I have known but haven’t fully internalized.
Jesus. God became man. God came to earth. He walked, talked, taught, and… wept. He came to us.
That itself is grace.
That itself should bring us to our knees.
JESUS. He came to us for us.
We have also as a Physician the Lord our God, Jesus the Christ, the only-begotten Son and Word, before time began, but who afterwards became also man, of Mary the virgin. For “the Word was made flesh.”Being incorporeal, He was in the body; being impassible, He was in a passible body; being immortal, He was in a mortal body; being life, He became subject to corruption, that He might free our souls from death and corruption, and heal them, and might restore them to health, when they were diseased with ungodliness and wicked lusts.
And if coming to us weren’t enough, He died for us so that we might have life.
Oh my word.
There’s only one thing I know about the past few weeks, and it’s that I’m swimming in a sea of unknowns.
I don’t know where I’m going to work, and I am now unemployed.
I don’t know where Clayton and I are going to live in 4 months.
I don’t know how to drive in Houston, and I think we might live there soon.
I don’t know what degree program I’m going to do.
I don’t know how to cook.
Honestly, I don’t know what it really looks like for me to be a wife.
I don’t know what’s next so I don’t know what to do right now.
I don’t know might be my new anthem.
I don’t know. I, I, I, I, I…
I don’t know a lot of things, but not knowing makes me know—more than ever—that I am a prone-to-worry and a bent-on-overanalyzing very-humany, human being. The more I don’t know, the more I realize how desperate I am for the calming, guiding, poking-me-back-on-track hand of God that I am created to dependently cling to and need.
“I don’t know” must be replaced with TRUST, replaced with the truth that God knows, God planned before time…, God will…
The former has gotten me nowhere.
The latter brings me to Him, which is right where I want to be.
Not- I don’t know…
But, God…
God knows, and if He knows, I’m okay with not knowing.
The Proposal
Engagement Story Pt. 1
Capturing Childhood Memories
Self-Made Measuring Stick
How to Wake Up on the Right Side of Bed
I love to write, but I am too timid to write my own about me. 
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