Joy Dance

God Didn't Make Me a Farmer's Wife

2012-01-25T07:27:00.000-08:00

Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. Lamentations 3:22-23

Sometimes when I read a book, I discover myself trying to be like the author. It’s probably some kind of disorder, but I choose to live in denial. Right now, I’m reading a book called A Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. Wonderful book about living in a state of gratitude to God. Ann is a farmer’s wife in Ontario who home schools six children. She writes prose that smells like sweet-smelling poetry. Just beautiful.

So, due to my disorder, I decided that I need to be like the farmer’s wife from Ontario.

My first foray into her world was to have a nice sit down dinner with my family, something we don’t do enough and a practice I honestly want to do more. I don’t live on a farm with organic everything, but I decided having homemade soup at my dining room table was good enough. I dug through the closet and found three placemats that matched. I made the table look picture perfect with candles. Just like the farmer’s wife.

When Noah and John saw my offering, they both remarked, “Why are we eating at the table?”

I was undeterred. I didn’t tell them about the farmer’s wife, but I said this is a goal for us in 2012. Noah.“Us?” Me. “YES, us.”

We sat and talked a bit about our lives and our upcoming dream vacation. Everything was wonderful.

Then I announced. “I want us to go around and say one thing we are thankful for.”

Noah sighed. “Really? Why?”

This reaction didn’t fit into my fantasy. I glared at him. “Because I want us to have a family moment.”

“John, why don’t you go first?”

John said, “Give me a moment.”

We pause in silence. Except for the loud and obnoxious sighing of the almost-teen.

John apparently was about to speak when I said, “Okay I’ll go first.

Noah jumped in with, “You cut Dad off.”

I glared again. “You, boy, shut up.”

Yes, I said this. No, I’m not proud of it. The Ontario farmer’s wife would never do this.

Sweetly I continued and said what I was thankful for. John followed. I looked at Noah.

“Noah, what are you thankful for?”

“Shut up Boy.” He said this, mocking me and pointing out my obvious failure as a mother.

I did what every Godly mother (and I’m sure the farmer’s wife) would do in this situation. I felt my blood boiling and I said, “Well, you should shut up, boy! You are being disrespectful and I am just trying to make a nice moment. Now TELL US WHAT YOU ARE THANKFUL FOR!”

Silence. Noah began retreating into his cave. John and I can tell when this happens. John tried to help.

“Noah, remember Saturday? You got a gift?”

“NO, JOHN, don’t help him!” Once again I stared at Noah. The absurdity of the situation was not lost on me. I envisioned myself on the floor beating up my son while telling him to say what he is thankful for. But my pride wouldn’t let me back down. (I wouldn’t ever actually hit him, of course.)

“Noah, either say one thing you are thankful for or you are going to take a bath and go to bed immediately.” It was 6 p.m.

Noah shrugged. I told him to leave the table, take a bath and go to bed.

John said, “Robbie, Noah’s 12 and his natural language is not gratitude, but he does say thank you all the time and every night when we pray he says thank you to God for something. Why was it so important to do it now and here?”

I stared at this man who obviously hasn’t read the book. “Because!” I changed the subject.

After his bath and before bed, Noah called out to us and told us what he was thankful for.

Last night was one of the many times I’ve made mistakes as a mom. Last night’s mistake was obvious to me now. I tried to be someone I’m not and I tried to make my family something they aren’t. Nothing wrong with gratitude and cultivating it. I still adore Ann’s book. But I am not Ann. I am not a farmer’s wife in Ontario and I don’t home school six kids.

I am a system’s analyst’s wife living in Denver. And I do have the privilege of raising one boy. A magnificent, chocolate-eyed boy. This morning, God’s mercies were brand new and I arose to forgiveness for my many sins. When I apologized to Noah he said, “Mom, I’m sorry. I was more in the wrong than you.” Yep, God’s compassions came to me through the morning light and through my son’s words.

Noah said thank you for breakfast as he usually does. When he walked out the door to the bus, his last words were, “I love you, Mom.”

God’s compassions never fail and His forgiveness is never late. And He made each of us exactly who we were meant to be. For that, I am truly THANKFUL!

What Happened Today after our Words for the Journey Christian Writers Meeting

2012-01-10T15:17:00.000-08:00

We came, a group of word-loving women, we came to lower our buckets into a well of inspiration and insight. We came to drink of strength and perseverance. We came, as writers, we came to discover how it is we can take another step.

Kay taught us. Today’s lesson was rich and we each lowered our pails, grasping for more, wanting our thirst quenched and discovering even more desire for water.

After the meeting end, conversations.

How is your book?

Have you heard yet?

Did you submit?

More words. Greetings. Blessings.

Women writers strike out to conquer the world of errands and family and projects on laptops. They leave refreshed.

A group of us lag behind and sit around a table. It’s not just a conversation; it is a sacred gathering . A holy place.

One of our friends has come today with her now constant companion. Grief has pulled up a chair behind her. His presence is palpable.

Several of us sit with her. We exchange words and talk about mourning. Tears of loss for her granddaughter’s death, a tragedy none of us understand, spring up from each of us.

No solving occurs.

Attempts to solve are useless.

Grief isn’t a problem to be fixed.

It’s a presence to be felt.

So we, her friends, give her the only thing we can give her. Our presence. She does not sit alone with him. We draw up beside her with tears and laughter. We take our buckets and pour what we can into hers.

And God sits with us. His arms embrace our friend with no commands and no expectations. His Spirit roams about and we all experience the miracle of community.

Of love that is mysterious and relentless and contagious and difficult.

We get up to leave and walk out to the lot to get into our cars and strike out to conquer the world of errands and family and projects on laptops.

As I get into Subaru, I glance over to the other women. Their buckets are full. Grief continues keeping pace with our friend, but she leaves with an extra pail of strength.

I look down and my own in brimming over.

God does mystery and miracle well.

His well.

My Adventure Across the US with JoJo and John!

2012-01-09T16:06:00.000-08:00

We drove from California through AZ, NM, TX, LA, MS,

AL,FL,GA,SC,NC,VA,MD,to Delaware!

Five weeks ago we were over-the-moon blessed by a generous gift from my husband’s mother, JoJo. We got to go with her to California and see her 1st great granddaughter (our first granddaughter) Lucy Ophelia. What a wonderful time! We flew back and she decided to stay a while longer. The day after we left JoJo fell in her hotel room and broke her kneecap and a bone in her face near her eye. The doctors declared that she couldn’t fly back to her home in Delaware. She stayed with my husband’s ex-wife and her husband (and our good friends) to recuperate. A couple weeks later, the doctor said she still couldn’t fly.

SO, last Tuesday John and I flew to California and drove JoJo back to Delaware. Talk about an adventure! We didn’t know what to expect in the way of weather, how JoJo would do in such a long trip or how long it would really take. But we made a plan and off we went.

God, in His mercy and goodness, decided to part the Red Sea for us, as far as weather went. It was as if we were on a summer trip. Sunshine was everywhere. Only hint of bad weather was when we drove through Mississippi at night with heavy fog. Thank you GOD! :0)

I think I’ll probably be processing the trip for a while (I flew back last night) but I have realized some moments we experienced are ones I won’t forget. So for now, here are some highlights from an incredible adventure across the United States with John and JoJo!

Nicest Hotel – Country Inn and Suites in Tucson, AZ

Worst Hotel – La Quinta in San Antonio

Ugliest scenery – Lousiana Swamps

Most Beautiful Scenery – Tie between sunrise in South Carolina or Sunset over Chesapeake Bay in Maryland

Best Discovery – 5 Hour drink – WOW! Kept us alert but no jitters and no sugar. :0)

Most Disappointing simply because of High Expectations – Enterprise Rental Car – The service was horrible and Los Taquitos restaurant. Guy Fieri recommended it on his show Drive Ins, Diners and Dives. It was okay, but nothing to put on a TV show. :0)

Worst Meal – Jack in the Box, San Antonio. We are Jack fans, so we called the home office. It was that bad.

Best Meal – The Red Lion Pub in Houston. Guy Fieri recommended this too and it was FANTASTIC!

Best Surprise – We got to have lunch with a former student of mine in Texas. Woot!

Worst Traffic – Washington D.C.

Most Monotonous Drive – Tie between the endless desert in New Mexico or the tunnel of trees in the panhandle of Florida.

Best moment of driving for me – When I came upon the Speed Limit 80 – in West Texas! YES!

Best moment of nostalgia and gratitude – Showing my hubby and mom-in-law around my hometown of Van Horn, Texas.

Hardest moment for me as a Mom – I called Noah once and he was having a horrible day and I couldn’t rescue him.

Best moment on the trip for Noah’s growth – I called Noah and he was having a horrible day and his mom couldn’t rescue him. :0)

Funniest moment (There were MANY) – We were driving through Louisiana at night and we just knew that serial murderers had gotten rid of bodies in the swamps we drove by. All three of us are fans of that show “Criminal Minds” which is creepy. So we wrote an episode based in Louisiana about an Evangelist who gives an invitation at the end of his sermons, then kills whoever held their hand up first. He then gets rid of the bodies in the swamps, leaving one hand above ground. We would call the episode “I See That Hand!” :0)

Best Name of a Town – Coosiwatchie, South Carolina. I would love to live there just for the shirt.

Weirdest names of a place - Tangipahoa Parish – What?

Rudest employee – Glenda at La Quinta – she was having a bad night. :0)

Nicest employee – Larry at the Holiday Inn in Mobile Alabama – Southern hospitality at its finest!

Sweetest Moment for Me – Watching my husband take care of his Mom.

Best Conversation for me – Talking to JoJo about her life and listening to her tell John stories.

Two moments I add ONLY because JoJo told me I HAD to:

Worst Moment for JoJo – She locked herself in toilet in Van Horn Texas and couldn’t get up to get out.

Best Moment for Robbie – Discovering I was thin and agile enough to crawl underneath stall door and help out JoJo! :0)

Moments I will never, ever forget – Seems that everywhere we stopped – gas stations, hotels, drive through joints – John would look at me and grab my hand and we’d dance. Just a few seconds, but enough to communicate that we are best friends on an adventure. Some may not see driving a mom-in-law across 14 states in 5 days as an adventure. But my best friend and I decided to give it all to God and enjoy the journey. And JoJo, one of the sweetest women on the planet, made it easy.

I’m home now and I love, love, love being home. But I wouldn’t trade the last week for the world! :0)

Something New!

2011-12-14T20:49:00.000-08:00

“And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

“Glory to God in the highest heaven,

and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”

Luke 2:8-15

The last week of November I prayed this Advent prayer: “Lord, as I wait on You, show me something new."

Sometimes the arrogance of being a long-time Christian attacks in December. Another Christmas. Been there. Done that. Bought the t-shirt.

So I asked for something new. Anything. A feeling, an insight, a moment. Just something new, or as my sis would pray, “More, Lord.”

As I was hanging out with Jesus the other day, I thought about Luke 2 and specifically the shepherds.

I imagined myself as a shepherd, hanging out with the sheep one night. Another day, another shekel. It’s cold, but the night is clear.

And then…I am waylaid with shock as an angel appears before me in the sky. I stand up and grab my shepherd’s staff. I tremble and adrenalin starts to race.

The angel tells us not to be afraid. His news is a GOOD thing. I believe. It’s an unbelievable moment but I believe.

Fear turns to excitement.

This is new.

This is wild.

And then the sky fills up. Angels are everywhere singing. Four part harmony graces the air. The basses have a short solo that makes me smile and the sopranos hit a high note that causes me to shake my head. They can sing.

I tap my toe along with my shepherd’s staff.

Fear that turned to excitement is now joy.

This is new.

This is wild.

This is great!

They only sing one song. And then they disappear.

Immediately someone yells, “Let’s go!”

We get our stuff together quick. I can’t wait to see the Messiah.

I am not a shepherd. I’m a 49-year-old American woman in 2011. But as I walked Scooby and Thor last night I looked up. It was cold and clear.

No angel appeared. No heavenly choir. No fear and no excitement.

But joy happened because He showed me something new. He showed me that He always longs for the moments we look up and are open to something new be it an insight or feeling.

A moment when you or I are open to falling in love with our Lord a little bit more. Like when I watched John with our granddaughter this past weekend. Nothing exciting, but as I watched I fell in love a little bit more with my man.

The New Year is coming – 2012.

My prayer for you and for me is that we will look up and be open to a new gift, calling, relationship or adventure. Whatever God puts in front of us.

And like the shepherds, I pray our reaction is simple. “Let’s go!”

In the Waiting!

2011-12-06T15:46:00.000-08:00

(Today I attended my writers group Christmas party and my friend Kay Day read this devotion. It is so beautiful and I asked her if I could share it with you. Enjoy. Check out Kay’s blog at http://www.loopdeloops.blogspot.com/ )

This is Kay Day. If you knew her, you'd like her. :0)

“Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.” Matthew 1:23

Advent. A time of eager and joyful expectation. Right?

But not then. Not for them.

They were weary. Living under the ungodly, oppressive government of Rome and the greedy, bloodthirsty rule of the Tetrarchs, they were over-taxed, over-burdened, abused, and frightened.

Religion was no help. If anything, the merciless legalism of the times made things worse.

And they’d been waiting a long time.

Waiting for an end to their suffering.

They’d heard of a deliverer, but where was He? Where was this promised Messiah? Where was God?

I’ve heard that Mary was the most common name for girls at the time. We do see several in the Gospels, so it could be true.

The name means Bitter.

Weary of waiting. Desperately waiting. Waiting for release from the bitterness of life. It seems they’d lost hope.

We’ve all been there. When one wait ends, another begins.

Life is waiting.

We wait for a son to return home to those he’s turned his back on.

For a loved one to know the Lord.

For a friend to be healed.

A child or spouse to come home from war.

A job—financial security.

A restored relationship.

A healed marriage.

Forgiveness.

For someone to abandon an addiction.

Reconciliation.

An e-mail from an agent.

Confirmation that we’re doing what we are supposed to be doing.

Always waiting and we are weary. We are desperate. Desperate for hope. For God to step in and show Himself.

Two thousand years ago God took on strands of DNA and became a tiny human in the womb of a girl named Bitter.

And His name was Emmanuel. God with us.

God stepped into the weary desperation.

He didn’t remove their suffering. Rome still ruled. The religious leaders were still unforgiving. Life was still hard.

He didn’t come to relieve their suffering. He came to walk with them in the midst of it.

We need not grow weary in the waiting because He’s here. We’re not waiting for Him to show up. He’s already here—inside us.

And those things we want, those things we watch for, they are good things, but the best thing, the best thing is God With Us.

I’ve looked back into my waiting and seen where God has been. Right there in the moments when it seems I’d lost hope. If God offered to answer all my prayers, solve all my problems right now, I wouldn’t do it if it meant losing those glimpses of His love.

Look deeply into your waiting and see Him. See where He’s been and how He’s touched you. Together let’s remember, no matter how discouraging or bitter life gets, let’s remember Emmanuel.

If Not Now, When? A Note of Gratitude!

2011-11-23T10:07:00.000-08:00

I walked into Sue’s house, expecting that she, our friend Lynne and I would pray together for our kids as we do most every week. But the only prayer that happened was when I prayed for Lynne, who was obviously sick. Hives covered her arms and Sue gave her a Benadryl. Lynne started seeing spots and she felt heaviness on her chest. Just as Sue and I decided to take her to a hospital, Lynne said she was going to faint.

And then, as she sat in a chair, Lynne blanked out completely with her eyes wide open. I called 911 and Sue started trying to wake her up by calling her and gently slapping her cheeks. (Later we all joked that Lynne would never recover from the bruises.) For a good five minutes, Lynne was gone. Breathing, but unconscious with very little pulse.

The firemen and paramedics arrived and Lynne “woke up.” A cute fireman helped the process. :0)

At the hospital, the doctors declared Lynne had gone into anaphylactic shock due to a severe allergic reaction. To what, she is still not sure. It might have been the pizza she had earlier that day that could have had shrimp on it. Lynne is allergic to shellfish. It could have been something during the long walk she took on her way to Sue’s. We don’t know.

Yesterday, when I had tea with her, Lynne told me God used this brush with death to give her an assignment.

If not now, when?

Lynne has taken this message seriously and has called several non Christian friends to have coffee this week. During these chats, she doesn’t preach or bully or give a slide show of hell with X’s that say You could be HERE. She simply tells them that Jesus loves them and died for them and that she wants them to know. Now.

It was scary to watch her go through what she did last week; yesterday it was simply thrilling to feel her passion and hear about her purpose to do what God told her to do. Today.

Lynne happens to be my accountability partner in my journey to get off sugar and get healthy. When we switched topics to my world she said, “So I have one question for you, Robbie. If not now, when?”

I started crying. Denying myself the comfort of food is excruciatingly difficult. So I make good choices often, but I often justify and rationalize running to food I don’t need. This week is Thanksgiving. A week we set aside to speak our gratitude for all the great blessings we have.

But we do it with food. Lots of food. Nothing wrong with that, but when you are on a journey to put God first always and not food, this is well…a tough week.

Lynne, glowing as if she’d had a personal meeting with Jesus, told me, “Robbie, when you look at the Thanksgiving table this year, don’t just see dishes of food. Imagine it is a table of beautiful plates of what you want. What you REALLY want.”

So I am going to eat Thanksgiving dinner and enjoy my family and friends. But I’m also going to take a moment, imagine and scoot up to the banquet table that God has for me.

A bowl of dreams fulfilled.

A pan simmering with deep purpose and potential.

A platter full of every day joy, with no ounce of guilt on it.

A glass of good health.

A plate of unrestricted relationship with the Father, devoid of any addiction blocking my heart.

And of course, the dessert. Oh, the dessert! It’s a buffet filled with the simple things that have already come from this path and will come later. A sweater two sizes smaller than last year, blood tests with numbers in the normal range, the theatre seats with room on both sides of me, energy, energy and more energy, less pain in my knee, and of course, the sweet burst of confidence that flavors every day.

Yummy!

So why not, Robbie? Why not, each of you? What’s He asking you to do? And if not today, when?

THANK YOU for reading these devotions and for reading my blog. Your comments and your encouragement mean the world to me. Knowing that God uses my scribbling thrills me. So thank you!
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

My Son Needs Me to Control Things, Right?

2011-11-18T12:49:00.000-08:00

The LORD is trustworthy in all he promises and faithful in all he does.

Psalm 145:13

I have a big ‘ole ladle of control freak mixed up in the recipe that is my personality. I used to have a gallon, but after surrendering often to Jesus, it’s much less. My dream is to someday only have a pinch. It’s a fantasy, but with God anything is possible.

God is often teaching me lessons about living for Him through that part of myself that says, “I got this.” Most of the time, I do not “got” it. At all.

The object of my control is often my son, Noah. 7th grade has been a challenge for him, not because he is unintelligent, he is smart as a whip. But because is he is disorganization personified. I read somewhere that at his age, the frontal lobe is not developed yet. The part that connects cause with effect and the part that develops short term memory. When I read this, I said, “YES” as if I’d just found a great sale or if I’d won the lottery. This scientific report validated that maybe, just maybe, Noah’s constant need for reminder is not due to me eating too many chocolate brownies during pregnancy.

Noah and I went to his parent/teacher conferences this past week. He was apathetic about the whole thing, but I was terrified. Two fears consumed me. 1) That each teacher would look at me and say, “Why aren’t you the kind of mother that Noah really needs?” and 2) That I would start bawling and point an angry finger at each teacher and blubber, “Why aren’t you the kind of teacher that can fix my son?”

Just trying to control the situation. It’s about me, right?

Well, no. It’s about Noah. This observation came from John, the voice of reason in our home. (I’m not always thrilled about that.) So John prayed for me before we went.

The science teacher was first and he spoke words that would be echoed by Noah’s other teachers. “Noah is a great student. Hard working and well liked. A leader that doesn’t know it yet. He could get all A’s but he is disorganized. But he knows the material and asks great questions.”

I was caught between asking “Seriously?” and crying in gratitude. Both would have horrified my boy so I kept silent, nodding politely. I confessed that Noah’s locker, which is ridiculously messy, and my purse are quite similar. I cannot teach him organization. The teachers all suggested an elective course at the school that teaches organization and study skills that Noah would be perfect for. I jumped for joy. Noah wasn’t so thrilled. He didn’t want to give up P.E.

We had a discussion at home that came down to me saying, “You are going to do this!” and Noah saying, “I don’t want to do this!” The voice of reason came in and asked if one of the requirements was Noah’s enthusiasm about taking the class. Unfortunately, we were told that yes, Noah had to WANT to be in the course.

John looked at his wife and son, who were both extremely upset, and said this. “Noah, do me a favor. Tonight, ask God what He wants you to do. And if you believe that He doesn’t mind if you don’t enroll, then you don’t have to.”

I glared at my husband. In one remark, he’d taken control and given it to our twelve-year-old boy who cares more about video games than eating, more about playing with his friends than going to church and more about P.E. than a new class! I remained silent, while asking God to kick John in the behind. Would Noah ask God? Would Noah hear God’s reply?

Letting go is terrifying and I am horrible at it and Noah needs me to control his world. Right?

Wrong. The next day, John asked Noah if he prayed and Noah said yes and that he was going to enroll in the class and drop P.E. I was shocked. Something good happened without me being in charge of it.

If you are like me, and many of you are, I hope that you can join me in surrendering control. It’s a desperate attempt to make us the center of the universe. It is also a way to say, “God, I don’t trust You to handle this.”

And God can handle it. He is trustworthy. He’s got Noah and I can let go.

A little at a time. :0)

He Still Has to Hide the Knives! (My Battle in Quitting Sugar)

2011-11-09T14:53:00.000-08:00

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,[whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

James 1:2-4

As of today, I have not had any sugar – for me this means no desserts of any kind and no sugary soda – for 3 months and 1 week.

It has not been easy.

Week one was 7 days in which my husband feared for his life. Before we went to bed at night, he hid anything he thought I might see as a weapon in my sugar-hungry mind.

After the first week, I had a few days of “Hey, this won’t be so bad.” That ended abruptly when my beloved son had the audacity to eat a Reese’s Peanut Butter cup in front of me. I fled, knowing that if I stayed and watched him enjoy my FAVORITE CANDY OF ALL TIME, I would later only have memories of my boy as a chalk outline.

I got encouragement from other folks, mostly on Facebook, who have also given up sugar. I was told time and time again that after the first two months, my desire for sugar would subside substantially. With a grin on my face I persevered. I couldn’t wait for October 1st.

October 1st came and I woke up with visions of candy corn dancing in my mind. Maybe they meant October 2nd and I just got the date wrong.

Um…no.

October was a living nightmare. Every trip to the store, the small orange and yellow triangles cried out to me from their bags.

Some called, “Robbie, come on over.” Sort of like that urge you get at 2 a.m. when you see an TV infomercial for a closet organization system that you know will solve every problem you’ve ever had.

Some mocked me. “Robbie, why are you doing this? It won’t last. So just have a few of us.”

But most often all I heard was, “Robbie, life without us, Sweet Candy Corn, is life denied!!”

I didn’t pick any of them up. I still miss those moments. The what ifs…Sigh.

Halloween. Well…let’s just skip that. Suffice to say Noah was on his own. :0)

But here is the deal. Sugar has abused me and been my bridge to obesity and a life of unused potential. No more. Maybe I’ll have sugar some day. But not anytime soon.

In the book, Made to Crave by Lysa TurKeurst, (which happens to be the best book I’ve ever read about my habit of putting food before God,) Lysa writes:

It is good for God’s people to be put in a place of longing so they feel a slight desperation.

(I laugh at the word slight.)

She goes on to say:

Only then can we be empty enough and open enough to discover the holiness we were made for. When we are stuffed full of other things and never allow ourselves to be in a place of longing, we don’t recognize the deeper spiritual battle going on.

After 3 months and 1 week, I am JUST NOW beginning to get an inkling of the spiritual battle going on in my heart and soul. A battle for my purpose. A battle for my identity.

Yes, I’ve lost weight and I feel good and my numbers after blood tests are much, much better.

And though that all feels great, God is showing me that in order to let perseverance finish its work in my life, I have a long way to go. That’s fine with me. I am on a wild ride and it’s exciting and scary and fun.

And my husband somehow knows when he needs to hide the knives! :0)

Living in "Might" Situations

2011-10-19T15:48:00.000-07:00

“And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father,

Prince of Peace.” Isaiah 9:6

I might lose my house.

I might be quite sick.

My husband might lose his job.

My child might get rejected.

Might, Might, Might.

The “might” situations come often in life. Sometimes they usher us into a valley where desperation for God’s help grows like the wild flowers in a meadow. And sometimes they are precursors to a trip to the mountain of gratitude, having missed bad news.

I am in a “might” situation right now. It’s a precarious place, where the fear of the unknown knocks on my door often. But I don’t have to let him in. I can make the choice to look at “might” in a totally different way

Might has two basic definitions: 1) Possibly 2) Power

You and I have the freedom to choose how we deal with waiting for news, be it bad or good. We can live in the realm of possibly, which is like balancing on a moving log in water. Could go this way or could go that way but while I’m waiting I need to move my feet frantically, hoping to control the outcome.

We can also choose to live in the realm of power, which is like standing on unmoving boulder. I still don’t know how it will go, but while I’m waiting I stand confidently on the ROCK, leaving the outcome to God, the Mighty God!

In practical terms, I use the Word of God to tell the enemy to go away when thoughts of possible bad news attack me and tempt me to fantasize about the worst possible situation. If I dwell, I get stuck in fear which leads to depression. The Word of God keeps me focusing on Mighty God and this moment right now!

I also don’t waste time wondering about the “mights.” I could probably spend most of a day just sitting and conjuring all the horrible things that “might” happen. So I remain busy, working and focusing on the tasks God has laid before me TODAY.

If you are not in a “might” situation, you will be someday. When it happens, remember that His Might is more powerful than any “might” situation. Today, this day, has so many wonderful gifts. Open them up, one at a time, and enjoy life right now. The “mights” are tools by the enemy to distract you from the Might of the One who is in control!

Supernatural!!

2011-10-14T07:35:00.000-07:00

“…I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live.” Deuteronomy 30:19

Accompanied by a wonderful group of women, I am going through the book Made to Crave by Lysa TerKeurst. This week we discussed a chapter called “But Exercise Makes Me Cry.” I related completely.

When I was younger my body remained joyfully silent as I swam, played tennis, and jogged.

Now, my body is never silent. It makes constant noises of pain when I attempt movement that involves something besides walking to the frig.

My body is also loudly telling me that if I do not take care of it, it will betray me with sickness and an early death. Last year, it whispered the word, “Diabetes.” Since then, I’ve tried to incorporate walking into my life. Many days I walk the dogs with purpose and joy, knowing that I am answering the call.

But some days are difficult. Extremely. Like the other day when I got up, put on the knee brace and the walking shoes, hooked up the IPOD and drank the coffee, getting all ready to conquer a long walk with Scooby and Thor. Unfortunately, my body started leaking motivation like a balloon losing air.

When John came through the living room on his way to work, there I was, slumping on the couch, staring at the TV which was now turned on, my eyes glazed over.

“John?” I moaned, as if from my death bed. “Will you walk the dogs?”

He tentatively asked, “Do you want me to walk the dogs or tell you to get up off the couch?” (John has learned this behavior after several overreactions on my part. :0) )

“Walk the dogs.” And he kindly leashed them up and left.

I was empty. No motivation. No energy. No resolve whatsoever. I surfed through the channels hoping for an old movie marathon. It was as if someone said, “Stay” as I tell my dogs.

And then I heard my God who loves me whisper, “Choose life. Use My Words.”

I knew what He meant. The Word of God is a weapon. Supernatural and a life-giver.

“Fine.” I said with absolutely no conviction whatsoever.

I began to say verses I’d memorized aloud. I did it rote, with no passion at all. No energy. I did not think about the words. I just said them. The TV was still on.

John came back with the dogs and then left for work. It “occurred” to me to turn off the TV. (The Spirit gave me that notion.) I continued spouting out the Bible as an act of obedience, devoid of any feeling.

And then…

The Spirit of God filled me up. Do you understand this? Supernaturally, my energy changed, my motivation changed, my will changed. Simply because I used the Word of God to bring me life and purpose.

After a little while, I stood up and made my dogs happy. “Let’s go, guys!” We took a long walk.

I chose life and my journey to good health continues.

Join me. Choose life.

Grace - It IS amazing!!

2011-10-06T15:03:00.000-07:00

“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God - not by works, so that no one can boast. “ Ephesians 2: 8-9

What does grace look like?

Grace is dropping that book on my foot or forgetting where I put my keys without mumbling, “Stupid.”

Grace is holding on tight to God during a hair-raising adventure of scary circumstances.

Grace is taking off my glasses of judgment and purposefully putting on His glasses of unconditional love.

Grace is housetraining a puppy that has a bladder the size of an ant – expect accidents.

Grace is watching my son forget his homework for the thirtieth time without blowing up in anger.

Grace is allowing John to be God’s guy, not my husband who I control.

Grace is forgiving when:

              The driver in front of me cuts me off.

                      The woman in front of me pays with change.

                                   The customer service person puts me on hold.

Grace is that moment in relationship when you bandage up your friend from a wound you caused. And then allow them to rub ointment on your scars.

Grace is letting stress out on the curb before it drives me to bad health.

Grace is living in that place of uncertainty – not knowing when crisis will come.

Grace is embracing folks who are completely different than me.

Grace is believing that cause and effect got booted out of office the minute Jesus died on the cross.

Grace is treating each other as if we are all saints, even though every single one of us is a black-hearted sinner.

Grace is taking that bag of rocks we use to stone ourselves when we feel unworthy, and using those rocks to build an altar of gratitude to God instead.

Grace is understanding sin doesn’t keep us from heaven. A lack of relationship with Christ does.

Grace is unmerited favor from God who cherishes us.

Amazing grace? Absolutely.

Portrait of People Pleasing Me

2011-09-28T12:44:00.000-07:00

Are you a people pleaser? Me, too. I mean, if you want me to be. :0)

I am always trying to allow the Lord to teach me to please Him only. It's difficult. I want to be liked.

This is a essay/poem/scene (I don't know what to call it) that I wrote a while back. I hope you like it. But if you don't, well, that's fine. Really. :0)

Portrait of People Pleasing Me

HE is a great painter.

He sees my portrait,

even as the canvas is blank.

He begins.

I say, “Use red.”

He says, “No, not red.”

“But,” I say, “I like red.”

“Okay.” He paints with the red.

I choose green as the next color.

He says, “No green right now.”

“But that writing magazine says green. So does Publishers Weekly.”

“Okay,” and he paints with the green.

He chooses blue next.

“No painter, no blue next. That editor I met at the writing conference? She says it’s time for orange.”

He shrugs and uses the orange.

After a bit, I say, “My agent says brown.”

Without a word, the painter takes the brown and paints.

I decide to sneak a peak.

“Wow, that’s me!” I say.

“Yes.” He says.

“It’s beautiful,” I say. “You’re good, but something’s missing. Don’t you think?”

The painter looks at me and smiles.

“Uh-huh.” He says.

“What is it?” I say.

But I cut him off from answering. I go and ask my husband, critique partners, writing group. They’ll know.

I bring back three pints of white, pink and purple.

He takes the paints and sets them down. Then he hugs me. He tells me he loves painting my picture. He tells me I am beautiful.

I blush and say, “Okay, but it’s still missing something, so use these colors.”

He takes the white, pink and purple and he paints.

I look at it again.

“It’s nice. It’s me. But something’s missing. I don’t know what. Do you?”

He doesn’t say anything. I think He is waiting to see if I will answer my own question.

Finally he says, “I know what’s missing.”

“You do?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What?”

He smiles gently, warmly and he says, “Me.”

“What?” I say. “But you’re doing the painting. You’re in control.”

“Am I?” He says.

It occurs to me that it is time to let him pick the colors.

It is time to please his vision.

Not mine.

Not anyone else’s.

I say, “Paint, painter, do your thing.”

A twinkle comes to his eye and he gets busy.

It’s fun to watch.

After a while, he calls me over and shows me the portrait.

“Wow!” I say.

The portrait is beautiful. Nothing is missing.

“That’s how you see me?” I ask him.

“That’s how you are. And are becoming. And will be.”

“Wow.”

I'm a Horrible Mother!

2011-09-21T16:43:00.000-07:00

(So it's not winter and there's no snow yet, but this picture

describes my emotions today.)

“Grace and peace to you, from God our Father.” Colossians 1:2

John Wooden, the late record-setting basketball coach of UCLA, defined success as peace of mind that is the direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you did your best to become the best that you are capable of becoming.

So what is it to be a successful mom?

This morning, my son Noah, who has asthma and has had pneumonia for the past few days, was able to go to school. In the silence of my home, I began to beat myself up.

If I was a good mom, he would not be sick so often.

If I was a good mom, Noah would have a clean home all the time.

If I was a good mom, I wouldn’t have gotten a second dog.

If I was a good mom, I would feed him only organics and eliminate the junk and never get angry and only show him Jesus’ love!

But I’m not and I don’t.

This afternoon I met with my Moms in Touch group. We pray for our kids at school. When asked what my prayer request was for my son, I burst out into tears. “I’m a horrible mother!”

I made a bit of a scene.

My friends did not coddle me, but instead told me truth that I needed to hear: There is a difference between being a perfect mom and a successful mom. One of them quoted Wooden.

John Wooden also said that in order to be successful, I must be the best ME I can be. So to be a successful mom, I need to be the best I can be...in my talents and my deficiencies.

My parents taught me to respect God, laugh at life and be friendly. But they didn’t teach me much about money. In fact, I’ve had problems in that area. If John were writing this, he’d type, “Amen!”

Were my parents’ successful? Yes! As my dad often said, “We do the best we can.”

I want to be the mom that Noah needs. For me, that means accepting that I am not a clean freak, I allow him to have fast food and I can use words that are simply idiotic. It means realizing that I can get better in these areas, but I don’t need to beat myself up when he gets sick.

It means living out the Serenity Prayer by Francis of Assisi.

God, give me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
(Noah’s health)
The courage to change the things I can,
(The things that God tells me to change)
and the wisdom to know the difference.
(And not beat myself up.)

Am I a good mom? A successful mom? Not always.

But I have peace of mind that today I have done my best to become the best mom I can be.

And that is God’s grace. And that is enough.

Discount Dog Gamble

2011-09-14T10:54:00.000-07:00

“But God demonstrates His own love for us in this:

While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

Romans 5:8

We huddled in a small room, our eyes focused on a Chug, or a Pug Chihuahua. The pet store clerk came and I began asking questions, believing that the answers would tell me the idea of taking this pooch home was silly.

The Chug was skinny and sick with Kennel Cough, Giardia and maybe more. He had been in the store for three months and had been rejected time after time. The clerk took home his sister but couldn’t take him.

“Maybe he needs us.” I said, and looked at John who was obviously ready to drop this spontaneous idea and go home.

John, Noah and I talked it over. This would be a gamble. The little guy might not make it.

But I knew I wanted him. “John, he is on sale.” And then I played the ultimate wife card. “Honey, this could be my birthday present.”

A while later we were at the counter with another couple, also getting a puppy. Their dog looked perfect and cost $1200. Ours, a little sick thing, cost much less. But Noah and I were thrilled as we carried our new little five-month-old puppy to the car.

“What should we name him?” I asked.

“He looks like a Thor.” John said, kidding. But it stuck. Thor Reginald Iobst became our fifth family member.

Buyer’s remorse came quickly as I stayed up most of the night listening to this six pound baby hack every thirty minutes as if he’d been smoking three packs a day for years. He promptly pooped and peed everywhere but wouldn’t eat.

We took him to the vet and she prescribed him medicine, paid for by the pet store, and told us the beginnings of pneumonia were in his lungs. But there was hope.

As I’ve prayed for Thor, I’ve contemplated the value of life. And I’ve experienced gratitude.

We are all sick in our sin and desperately need someone who will take a chance on us. God stepped in and paid the ultimate price, Jesus’ life, to save us from a life of being caged in and rejected. Even if we poop and pee through life, making messes of our lives, He comes in and cleans up and holds us. :0)

At first I didn’t want fall in love with Thor. What if he died? But as I’ve watched him go from a hacking puppy to a scampering dog, his paws have scooted their way into my heart.

How much more does the Father cherish each of us?

We rescued Thor and I’m glad. Scooby, our Puggle isn’t. He looks at the new puppy as a nuisance in his life, like a fly that won’t go away. He will stare at us and I know he’s thinking, “Wasn’t I enough?” :0)

But in rescuing Thor, I have been given the gift of experiencing a tiny iota of what God might feel when He looks at us.

Unconditional love.

Maybe, Maybe Not

2011-09-07T11:51:00.000-07:00

(The following is this week's Joy-votion, a devotional I write each week and send out through email. If you would like to get a Joy-votion through your email each week, just email me at robbieiobst@hotmail dot com and I will put you on the list. This week I have a guest writer - my incredible husband John!)

“And we know that in all things God works for the GOOD of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purposes.”(NIV – Emphasis added) Romans 8:28

Back in Genesis 3 (the fall of man) Adam and Eve ate from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Besides all the obvious consequences, (sin, death, and separation from God) I believe that tree had its own unique consequence for us all.

We “think” we are equipped to rightly judge good and evil. The problem is we lack the wisdom and perspective of God to know if something is truly good or evil.

I heard a story to illustrate the point. A poor farmer in a rural village had his only horse wander off and get lost. The people of the village came to lament the evil that had befallen the man. In response to them calling it evil, he said, “Maybe, maybe not.” Days later the horse returned followed by six wild horses and the people of the village came to proclaim the good that had come to the man and he said, “Maybe, maybe not.” Days later the man’s only son was trying to train one of the horses and fell breaking his back leaving him paralyzed from the waist down. The people of the village came to lament the evil that had befallen the man and he said “Maybe, maybe not.” Sometime after that the army came and drafted all the young men of the village except the man’s son because he couldn’t walk. Shortly after that news came that a battle resulted in the death of every young man from that village. The people of the village came to lament the evil that had befallen them all but the man said, “Maybe, maybe not.”

Was this man wise beyond his years or did he simply understand he lacked the wisdom to judge good and evil rightly?

I am not arguing for a post-modern relativistic world view where everyone should pick the version of the truth that suits them. I am saying we judge all the time but lack the wisdom.

We live our lives judging people, places and circumstances as good or evil based on the simple criteria: Does this benefit me or not? As followers of Christ, we may extend the criteria of our judgment to include God’s Will as we understand it that day, but it is still our judgment.

Ten or twenty years ago, I would have believed that the greatest evil affecting my life was my addiction. Today I am convinced that in God’s hands it was and is the greatest good because apart from that pain, I would never have fully bent my knee to the Lord and been set free by His love and grace. Clearly I was wrong before and it is not completely clear that I am right now.

The next time you find yourself judging I hope you can let go of your right to judge and instead trust God to be the only Righteous Judge. Is this circumstance good? Is it evil?

Maybe, maybe not.

Bragging Grandmas!

2011-08-31T20:09:00.001-07:00

My friend Jan Parrish and I made a silly video celebrating the joy of being a grandma. This is of course, dedicated to my first sweet grandbaby who I think of EVERY day, Lucy!

Detours of Rebellion

2011-08-24T11:41:00.000-07:00

"You will show me the path of life!

In Your presence is fullness of joy,

At your right hand, pleasures forevermore." Psalm 16:11

On my journey to good health and weight loss, I have not been perfect. This is my 24th day without sugar, but that doesn't mean that I always make good choices with food. It is a journey, not a destination, so I remember God's grace and I keep trying, enjoying the little rewards along the way.

I was talking to my friend Lynne about my occasional bad choices and she said to me, "Robbie, they're just detours. You're going to get there, but you have to decide how many detours you want to take."

I started thinking about that and I wrote the following:

You've shown me the path,
     an inkling of beautiful adventures.
Joyful flowers mark the sides of the road.
     They stand with angels to cheer me on.

But yet...
     I see a detour.
It's marked with a sign that says "My Way."
     Weeds of control line its street.
They do exactly waht I say.

Why do I take the detours?
Temporary control.
Temporary numbness.

I get so tired of choosing Your way.
Choosing humility.
Walking in my brokenness.

But Your path leads to my goal.
Your path is wise
                      and healthy
                                and joyful.
My path is numbing
                      and shame-filled
                                and leads to death.

My path is a detour of rebellion.

God, protect me from myself today.
Keep me on your path.

Goodbye Sugar!

2011-08-17T16:40:00.000-07:00

I've seen women in abusive relationships,
Who simply won't walk away.
The comfort of what is "normal"
is easier that the pain of change.

I've scoffed at them and thought,
"Come on! Have some self respect.
Choose to run away and get out.
Choose to value who you are."

And yet...

I'm in an abusive relationship.
I've made so many excuses
to not completely walk away.
The comfort of what is "normal"
is easier than the pain of change.

So today I leave.
Today I value who I am.
He's beaten me up and contributed
to my morbid obese unhealthy self.

No more.

I've taken sugar and perverted it.
Made it an idol in my life.
Sugar isn't bad in itself.
I think God created chocolate
with a smile on His face.

But I've given it too much power,
I've allowed it to control my pain,
and celebrate my joy
and comfort my boredom.

No more.

I choose to get out of this relationship.
Someday, after sanity returns and I'm
at a healthy weight, maybe I'll allow
a tiny space for a dessert in moderation.

But for now, for a long while,
I say goodbye.
Good riddance. I'll miss you desperately at first.
With time and God's strength you'll become of little importance.

Goodbye my love who I allow to abuse me.

Goodbye Sugar.

Join me in a SPACIOUS PLACE!

2011-08-10T13:44:00.000-07:00

Do you have problems with food or weight? I am part of that club.

Before I was 23, I always thought I was fat, but in reality I wasn’t really big, just big boned. But after age 23, I began using food to comfort and to reward. The weight piled on. And on.

Of course, along the way I have dieted. I’ve done most of the biggies: Jennie Craig and Weight Watchers and Atkins, some of the little ones: bananas and water, Weigh Down and Overeaters Anonymous and of course the manic middle: fasting, only veggies, only protein, only starvation.

And you know what? They’ve all worked. I’ve lost TONS of weight. Problem is I gained it all back plus a little something extra. And the weight continued to pile on. And on.

Now I am 48, almost 49 and I am exhausted. I do not want to live in this cycle of defeat. My mind has been the following whirlpool of thoughts for years:

“I’m fat. I have to lose weight. I can’t lose weight. I am pathetic. But I have to lose weight. I know! I won’t eat badly today. I can do this. Oh man, why did I eat that? Well, since I already ate it, I am now going to eat a lot of it. I’ll start over on Monday. I’m fat. I have to lose weight…”

Does this sound familiar? Many of us deal with this. MANY of us.

This past summer, I was invited to a Bible Study that I thought was going to discuss faith. I walked in and discovered it was a book study. A book about putting food before God. Yikes! NO, I said. Nothing ever works.

But it did. Putting the principles of this book, Lysa Terkerust ‘s Made to Crave, into action, I have found freedom that I have never experienced before.

The Bible Study ended. But I haven’t. I need to continue and I need a group of friends who will walk with me.

SO, I am beginning a group called SPACIOUS PLACES in my home beginning SEPTEMBER 15th, THURSDAY, in my home in Centennial, Colorado from 9 to 11 in the morning. We will go for 9 weeks. And then we’ll see. Our first study will be to go through the book Made to Crave.

If you are interested in joining me, I would love to have you. I need help to walk this road because it is DIFFICULT. But God is so good and He wants to rescue us!

I have moved into a SPACIOUS PLACE where there is freedom and joy. I call it a spacious place based on

Psalm 18:19
“He has brought me into a spacious place. He has rescued me because He delights in me.”

Join me in this spacious place! And if you can’t come, which I totally understand, then I encourage you to pick up this book. It will guide you to the freedom found in craving God, not extra food.

If you are interested in attending SPACIOUS PLACES each Thursday at my home, email me at robbieiobst at hotmail.com or call me at (720) 329-2317. If you want to join a group, if we have one at night, let me know.

How Do I Feed My Soul?

2011-08-03T15:02:00.000-07:00

How do I feed my soul?
I reach for a coke.
I dig my spoon into a pint
of HaagenDaaz chocolate.
My tummy rejoices.
My thighs expand.
And my soul lets out a hunger pang.

How do I feed my soul?
I walk the aisles of King Soopers.
I am a wolf, prowling for prey.
Which candy?
Which desserts?
Soul food isn't on aisle 4.

How do I feed my soul?
I stumble into Your presence.
I ask for something my taste buds can't experience.
Is it the Bible?
Is it Prayer?
They just don't feel as good as coconut cake.

How do I feed my soul?
I sit, like in a restaurant.
I ask for an order of satisfaction.
No waiter brings french fries.
Chips and salsa are not delivered.
Instead, You join me.

How do I feed my soul?
By experiencing the One who created my soul,
And chocolate,
And sugar.
I lean on Your strength.
I say "NO!" to the cravings.
I do this over and over and over and over and over.

And slowly, day by day, meal by meal,
I realize.

My soul is being fed.
By loving and being loved
By the One!
My God, and Jesus and Spirit,
The relentless pursuer of my heart,
The God who feeds my soul.

Ever-Body Needs an Aint Lucy!

2011-06-29T10:34:00.000-07:00

This my brother Perry and our Aint Lucy!

I am finishing my novel and have decided to take July to focus on it. So I will not be blogging or sending out any Joyvotions until August. Please pray that I will listen to the guidance of the Lord. Thank you and thank you SO much for reading.

“Likewise, teach the older women to be reverent in the way they live, not to be slanderers or addicted to much wine, but to teach what is good. Then they can urge the younger women to love their husbands and children…” Titus 2:3-4

Last week, I had the joyous opportunity to visit with my three siblings and their spouses and their kids and it was a blessing. And then to add to that, I had the privilege of travelling to a little town in New Mexico called Eunice to attend a family reunion. The last time I was in Eunice was 20 years ago in 1991, when my Grandmother Mamie Grizzard Floyd celebrated a family reunion with her 7 children, their spouses and all their kids. Since then, Mamie, my Uncle Raymond and my parents, Walker and Sally Floyd have died. And though my heart twinged a bit missing their presence, I felt the joy of seeing the many that have been added to the clan since then. Spouses and tons of kids have joined. And I too, having been single in 1991, have an expanded family with the blessing of John and Noah Iobst.

As with any family reunion, we laughed plenty and ate a lot. There was music making and storytelling. I hugged a lot of necks and kissed the cheek of several aunts and cousins. And yes, I even said, “Wow, you have grown!”

But I have to tell you my favorite moments came while sitting next to Lucille Kellum, my Aint Lucy, as I call her. Lucy is in her 70’s and is full of wisdom from the Lord and from life experience. She has 4 kids and in our family we had 4 kids. The Kellums lived in Eunice, 3 hours away from the Floyds in Van Horn, Texas. I grew up visiting them often and playing with Phyllis, her youngest, the one about whom my Dad would say, “Robbie, she’s about your caliber.” Gun vernacular was a constant metaphor used by Daddy. :0)

When my father died, Lucy was at the funeral. After the service, I remarked to no one in particular, “Well, I guess I’m an orphan.”

Quick as a cricket, Aint Lucy said, “As long as I’m alive Robbie Gail, you are not an orphan.”

Wasn’t just words either.

Last year, Aint Lucy went through a bout with cancer. I’m sure Mike and her kids were scared something awful. I was, too. But she came through a-shining and looked great at the reunion.

While I sat next to her, I asked Aint Lucy how to keep a good marriage going. She and Mike have been together 59 years. She said simply, “I learned very early on to get rid of the “me and I” in everything.”

She continued to dose out wisdom and soon she was surrounded by me, my sis-in-law, and two of her granddaughters, ages 17 and 18. It was a beautiful scene because it was how it should be. The older woman giving wisdom to the younger.

I miss my own mother so much and there are still moments I ask God why He had to take her. He’s been silent on this point.

But sitting in Eunice, New Mexico last week, listening to someone who has earned my love and respect like a mom, comforted me in ways that I can only feel, not put into words.

I drove from Albuquerque back to Denver on Monday and during the long, lonely drive I talked to God about what had happened and the joy of being placed in such a wonderful clan. And I asked God if it be His will, to allow me to someday be a wise old woman. (I refuse to think of myself now as old and I know I ain’t wise. :0) )

If you have such a treasure in your life, I encourage you to take some time and ask her some questions and allow the Father to soothe your spirit and teach your heart lessons that only come through the words of someone who has lived long and well.

Thank you Aint Lucy!

The Fatherless on Fathers Day

2011-06-17T20:54:00.000-07:00

“Our Father in Heaven, hallowed be Thy Name.” Matthew 6:8

Sunday is Fathers Day and even as I write this, woman and children across the country are deciding what to give the Dad in their family. A tie, some ammo, movie tickets perhaps? It’s a day that often brings a chuckle into our home because of church. John and I have observed that in most churches, mothers are beatified on Mother’s Day and on Fathers Day, dads are told “You’re doing it wrong and you need to do it better.” Not all churches, but many.

Last night John shared something with me and he gave me permission to share it with you.

“Something weird happened today, Robbie.”

“What?”

“I wasn’t doing anything particular, and I thought of Fathers Day and then I had this overwhelming sense of grief. I think for the first time in my life, I really grieved not having a father.”

John spent three days with his father when he was 19 and it turned out that the man John met was only a sperm donator for John’s life. I’m always amazed at the redemption God has brought to my husband’s life, because in not having a dad, he didn’t know how to be a dad, but God has redeemed that void. The Father of all has become John’s father and teacher.

After John and I talked about his grief, I started thinking of my own. Not the grief of never being fathered, but the grief of not having my father alive. I miss him at odd times, I’ve noticed. Many of those moments occur right after I see his face in my son’s or hear his goofiness in Noah’s.

So my husband and I are both fatherless, in a way. And you may be fatherless, too. But I thank God, we have THE FATHER. I’m not being trite at all when I say Our Father in Heaven is a true dad to us. He doesn’t make us smiley faced pancakes or take us to shooting ranges or movies, but He fills the place in our hearts that needs to know that we are enough. We are loved just as we are.

The Father has taught John that he has what it takes to be a warrior man in this world of passive, chicken-hearted men. The Father has taught me that I am His daughter, beautiful, worthy and loved unconditionally.

So this Fathers Day, Noah and I will make sure that John is honored as he should be with presents and food and hugs.

And this Fathers Day, John and I will make sure that we honor our Father as He should be honored with our hearts and our love and our lives.

If you are fatherless, look up on Sunday, and take a moment. Honor your Father in Heaven on His day.

I Want to be a Dangerous Christian!

2011-06-09T14:14:00.000-07:00

“I wouldn’t mind if to be a Christian were accepted as being the dangerous thing which it is; I wouldn’t mind if once again, we were being thrown to the lions. I do mind, desperately, that the word “Christian” means for so many people smugness, and piosity and holier than thouness.” Madeleine L’Engle

Amen to that, Madeleine!

And it starts with me, not those “other Christians” who offend me with their noses affixed in the air, sniffing their own goodness. It starts with me.

I long to be a dangerous Christian, one that loves recklessly like Christ. One that defines loving as action, not words. One that risks in order to please the Father. One that holds fast to the teachings of the Word while living to the fullest in the world.

It’s possible. I’ve seen dangerous Christians and they inspire me.

I disgust myself when I see me acting pious and smug, wielding judgment on others as if I have an anointed sword that is able to cut to the hearts of all. I do not like it when I spend more time wondering why someone doesn’t love Jesus like I do and less time loving them like Jesus loves me. And I offend myself when I cower in the corner, scared of offending anyone and doing absolutely nothing.

I want to be a dangerous Christian. Why not? I serve a dangerous God.

Remember when Lucy asked Mrs. Beaver about Aslan in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe?

“Is he safe?” asked Lucy.

“Oh, no dear, he’s not safe. But he’s good.”

Lord, help us all take one more step toward Your heart. Cause us to live lives of courage and reckless abandon in the name of Jesus.

Help us be dangerous Christians!

Summer Reading!

2011-06-07T19:25:00.000-07:00

Ah, the sun is shining its warmth and encouraging us to head for swimming pools or air conditioner. I love the summer! Cherries are ripe and the fruit is sweet. :0) And for me, summer time is an excellent time to READ! I mean read even more than I usually do. So this time of year, I make myself a summer reading list. I asked my facebook friends for suggestions.

Here are the ones that they named that I have read:

The Help - LOVED IT
The Mitford Series books - SO wonderful end easy and sweet!
Chronicles of Narnia - Classics
The Shape of Mercy - SO good
Chasing Lilacs - WONDERFUL
Redeeming Love - One of my favorites of all time
Eat, Love and Pray - So much better than the movie

Here are some they suggested that I haven't read:

Crazy Love - I have it but haven't read it.
The Stephanie Plum series by Janet Evanovich
The Jack Reader series by Lee Child
Orthodoxy by G.K. Chesterton
A Ship Possessed by Alton Gansky
Same Kind of Different as Me
Introverts in the Church
The Power of the Blood
Downpour by James McDonald
I Know This Much is True
Jane Adams Diary

So I'm looking at the second list and trying to decide. Do you have any suggestions? Have you read any of the second list? Help! And have a wonderful summer. Pick up a book if you haven't read in a while!

The Sounds of a Warrior

2011-06-01T05:10:00.000-07:00

(This week I am only blogging once because I have a nasty cold. What you are about to read is something I wrote a year ago. Noah is now 12 and taller than me and will soon end the 6th grade. Learning to let go is a lesson I will never fully embrace. But I am trying.)

My only child is about to turn eleven-years-old. He’s entering a phase in his life that scares me to death. Not because the prepubescent phase is racked with frightening questions about sexuality. Not because he is about to enter the lion’s den called Junior High. And not because he is getting less affectionate with me. This phase terrifies me because I won’t be his number one coach anymore.

My husband John and a friend of mine have both remarked to me this past week that it is the time in Noah’s life where Dad takes the front seat in guiding him. Even though I know this is for the best, I hate it.

John told me a story about a jungle tribe that keeps all the women and children in the inner circle of their village, while the men mainly live on the outskirts. When a boy turns a certain age, the father comes into the village wearing ceremonial gear and kidnaps his son. The boy then moves in with the father and learns how to live on the outskirts of the village.

When John told me this story my first thought was “Seriously, John? This is how you comfort me?”

It also made me think about the word outskirts. Basically, the etymological meaning is “beyond the borders of a woman.”

Soon, my little boy who is not so little will be on the outskirts of my influence.

Not completely, of course. I mean, John is not going to kidnap him away from our home and teach him to live in Motel Six. I will still be an integral part of my son’s life and will always be. But the relationship is changing, as it should.

Yesterday, I walked by his room and heard noises. The same noises I’ve heard for years. The first time I heard these sounds my forehead crinkled and I tilted my head towards his door.

Psshhht!

Bam!

Tshhhkkk!

Part of me wanted to walk in and catch Noah doing whatever he was doing. The other part of me sensed that interrupting would be akin to disturbing a sacred act.

I was right to go with my second instinct. Later I would ask Noah what he was doing in his room. He gave me a one word answer. “Imagination.”

It became a simple and wonderful explanation for the sounds. Little boy battles were fought in that room daily. Battles that I could not be a part of. My son has lived his life as an only child (his sisters are much older) and he has learned how to entertain himself. I love that his imagination has grown through the years. He still loves books and movies and video games and playing outside. But from time to time, he goes into his room and all I hear are the sounds of a young warrior.

Sometimes I imagine that world. Maybe he is dressed in camouflage, crouching in a fox hole, bullets blazing above his head as he plans how to unleash the grenades that will end the battle. Maybe he is flying on an enormous dragon, swooping low to kill monsters and save those in danger. And maybe he is a knight drawing his sword and fighting the enemy of the castle.

But I know his heart is being built into a warrior as he practices his courage. Once I had a thought that it would be horrible to find out he is some kind of serial killer, so I asked him if he was a good guy or a bad guy when he practiced Imagination.

“Mom, I’m always the good guy. And I always win.”

I sighed and thanked God for the guidance of my husband and brother Phil. See, without them, I would never have encouraged this side of my son. Violence is bad. Violence never leads to any good. This is what I believed. But part of my education in raising Noah is learning that every boy needs to learn to defend himself. Every boy needs to know that they have what it takes to fight evil and win. John and my brother Phil have schooled me in this. Especially in those moments where I thought Noah might get hurt. As his nurturer, I would sweep in and make sure Noah knew that some things were unsafe. Like climbing too high or trying something he’s never done before.

It was a difficult lesson to learn, but I learned it. I let go of trying to control my boy’s boundaries, within reason of course. And as I did, I noticed that the sounds from his room became more frequent. Even more intense at times.

Now I have to learn the lesson all over again. Noah has needed me to draw him in and soothe his heart and teach him gentleness and courtesy. I’ve modeled for him the kindness and love of Jesus. But he needs new lessons and John will be a better teacher. He will soon enter the classes of Becoming a Man 101 and Integrity as a Leader 102 and How to be a Good King 103.

I hope he always likes to be tickled. He and I have colossal tickle wars. I hope he always enjoys a little cuddling with his mom. Even when he is taller than me. I hope that my warrior grows to be a man who is after God’s heart and one who meets a woman who is crazy about Jesus. And I hope that even after he leaves our home and his room of warrior dreams and sounds, he will always be the good guy. And always win.

WHO YOU ARE IS WHO YOU ARE IN CHRIST!

2011-05-26T08:14:00.000-07:00

"God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in

Him we might become the righteousness of God."

2 Corinthians 5:21

Who are you?

When asked that question, we usually answer with our name and then give facts about ourselves depending on the situation. For example, "I'm Robbie Iobst and I'm Noah's mom." That would be my answer at one of his school events.

But what's the answer when you ask this of yourself? How do you define yourself? If you are a believer in Jesus and have chosen to give Him your heart and life, this is the answer:

Who you are is who you are in Christ!

So who am I in Christ?

1) Righteousness of God
I'm serious. You are the righteousness of God. If you are like me, a black-hearted sinner, who can be a total butt-head to Jesus and other folks, this might be hard to believe. But look at 2 Corinthians 5:21. God made Jesus, who knew NO SIN, to become sin on the cross for us. Why? So we could have a relationship with God - so we could be the righteousness of God. This is a supernatural miracle. It's as if God has these special glasses that He sees us with. He looks through Jesus' sacrifice and sees us, His righteous children.

2) Blessed
I am blessed! I have Jesus. I was blessed when my son was born and I was blessed when my mother died. Yes, in both moments - one of extreme happiness and one of extreme sorrow. I am blessed, not because of circumstances being favorable or not, but I am blessed because I am a daughter of the King and therefore, I have purpose and meaning in my life.

3) Chosen, Adopted, Redeemed, Forgiven, Loved, Cherished!
Read Ephesians 1 and pick out all the wonderful attributes you are because you are in Christ!

This is an EXTREMELY important concept to believe and reinforce every day. The enemy wants you to define yourself by what you do or don't do. The enemy wants you to see yourself as your faults and weaknesses. Every time I whisper, "I am so fat" as a label, the enemy laughs and says, "Gotcha!"

Who you and I are in Christ is not fat or stupid or underpaid or childless or divorced or even a teacher or a mom.

Who you and I are in Christ is Righteous, Blessed, Chosen, Adopted, Redeemed, Forgiven!!

To put this in practice, say this to yourself every day. Affirm your identity enough and you will begin to believe it in your soul and in your everyday life. So when something bad happens or when you mess up, you can give yourself the grace that Christ offers us constantly.

Today, right now - WHO YOU ARE IS WHO YOU ARE IN CHRIST!!

Bothered by Interruptions? It's a Matter of Attitude.

2011-05-24T11:19:00.000-07:00

"Interruptions can be viewed

as sources of irritation or opportunities for service,

as moments lost or experience gained,

as time wasted or horizons widened.

They can annoy us or enrich us,

get under our skin or give us a shot in the arm.

Monopolize our minutes or spice our schedules,

Depending on our attitude toward them."

William Arthur Ward

Top Ten Things to Get Done before Doomsday this Saturday!

2011-05-19T06:57:00.000-07:00

Top Ten Things to Get Done before Doomsday this Saturday!

10) Beg God to wait a couple of weeks - I need to know who will win American Idol!

9) Eat chocolate cake and throw away the scale as I laugh like Dracula - woohahahahaha!

8) Let Scooby off the leash so he can eat as many bunnies as possible - the neighbors can complain next week.

7) "Kick" the Bucket List. (Get it? Do ya?)

6) Clean my house...wait, are you kidding me? No way!

5) Wear clean underwear in honor of my Mom.

4) Get my hair cut and styled - want to look good for Jesus.

3) Change my will so all my unsaved friends can get my stuff with a note - "Told you so!" (This was John's contribution to this list.)

2) Confess to Noah, "Your father was the one to kill your fish." (Hee-hee - John didn't contribute this.)

And the number one thing to get done before Doomsday:

1)Throw this list away and live every day like it's the last chance I have to love God and do the right thing!

“But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father." Mark 13:32

"Fear not, for I am with you. Be not dismayed for I am your God. I will strengthen you, yes, I will help you. I will hold you in my righteous right hand." Isaiah 41:10

Heaven is for Real - My Book Review

2011-05-17T16:41:00.000-07:00

I just looked at Amazon.com to read the reviews for the book, Heaven is for Real, by Todd Burpo with Lynn Vincent. It's the story of Colton Burpo and his trip to Heaven during an appendicitis surgery. Colton was 4 when this happened and he told his folks about it, a little at a time, over the next three years. Today, Colton is 12.

Reviewers can title their reviews on Amazon. Here are some of the titles:

Heaven is for real; this story isn't.
Wow...just wow.
Pathetic excuse of a NDE (near death experience) book
This stinks to high heaven
Solace and comfort for the irrational and simple minded
Inspiring
Loved it!

My neighbor Elli loaned me a copy of Heaven is for Real, telling me that she loved the book. I read it in a couple of days - it's an easy read. I finished it last night.

When I began this book, I was skeptical. Part of cynical me. But by the end, I was encouraged and felt my faith being built. In Heaven, according to Colton, no one is old and everyone has wings. Colton says the angels have swords to keep Satan out of Heaven and he met his sister, who died in a miscarriage. Colton's parents had never told him about the . Since Colton is age 4 to 6 as he reveals what he saw, the details are believable because he is a kid and his faith is childlike, something Jesus said was a requirement.

I liked this book very much and I recommend it to believers, especially if you've lost someone. What a comfort to be assured that your loved one will be there. And according to Colton, so will your pets. :0)

HOWEVER, the reality is that this is one child's experience. I believe God is big enough to make Heaven different for different folks. I believe in a God that can show heaven to Colton so that his story can encourage and comfort others. I also believe in a God that created the tsetse fly and Mount Everest, so He can make Heaven a unique experience for everyone. Those people who love to prove Colton's experience a sham, by saying we won't have wings according to the Bible, may be well meaning, but really? Is that a huge enough detail to proclaim that Colton and his parents are liars? Come on.

When I read The Shack, which unlike this is a work of fiction, I really enjoyed the creative description the author gave for the Trinity. I enjoyed it just as I enjoy many novels. But when I heard people becoming angry, saying The Shack was not Biblical, I wanted to tell them to get a life. In the same vein, when a couple of folks talked about The Shack as if it were the road map to living for Jesus, I told them, hey, get a life, it's just a novel.

The same idea applies here. Heaven is for Real is a wonderful book and it personally encouraged me. But do I now see Heaven exactly like Colton Burpo?

No. Colton and I serve a God big enough for both of our views.

The Miracle of God's Timing - Part 2

2011-05-12T10:07:00.000-07:00

My sister-in-law Lory told me a story that made me cry. It is a story of God's timing that heals and surprises and loves us. Lory has a sister named Paula. Paula was married to Mark and they had two children. Mark died several years ago. Paula's daughter is in college and her youngest son, Jake, is graduating from high school this month.

A man named John was trying to get a hold of Paula by calling several places including her old workplace. Paula decided to call him and see what was up. She started the conversation by telling John she had no idea who he was. John explained: (This is a paraphrase)

"Paula, I was one of Mark's friends who met him in Las Vegas each year. (Mark went to Las Vegas annually for see-old-buddies-and-hang-out trips.) Every time we were in Vegas, we would end our trips with the same thing. Mark would go to a table and put $100 down and try to roll snake eyes. He would do this and then we'd leave for the airport. Mark never won. Well, I have continued doing this every year in honor of Mark, in memory of him. This year I actually won. I'd like to send the money to Mark's family so that's why I'm calling."

Paula thought about it and then told him, "Mark's son Jake is graduating this month. Why don't you keep half the money and send half of it to Jake?"

A week or so later, Paula and Jake arrived home from errands and got the mail. Jake took a letter addressed to him and went to his room. After a bit, Jake came to Paula and said, "Mom, read this."

Paula looked at the check for $1500 and the letter that came with it. The letter told Jake details about Mark that John appreciated. And then John wrote, "Maybe this money can be a little reminder that your dad is with you as you graduate high school."

Paula started to cry. Jake, who has never outwardly grieved his dad's death, walked to his mom, put his arms around her and cried.

God's timing is miraculous. I don't believe in coincidences. I believe in a God that sees the big picture and although He doesn't always choose to interfere with free will and therefore sin and suffering, He does love us and chooses to bless us with little miracles. Miracles of timing.

The Miracle of God's Timing - Part 1 of 2

2011-05-10T12:41:00.000-07:00

Me and My Miracles

Some folks in religious circles claim that God's miracles do not happen during our time. In Jesus' time, yes, but not now. I don't agree. God's miracles are everywhere. In the miracle of birth, in the miracle of death and in the miracle of timing, to name a few.

When I think of God's timing in my life, I am filled with gratitude. I was in Watts, a suburb of Los Angeles, with a friend of mine when we were in college. We were lost, without a vehicle and discovered that the buses had stopped running. A car appears and two gentlemen ask us if we want a ride. We say yes and as we are about to get into the car, something in me says, "Hold on, there, Rob." I pull my friend back and say that we appreciate it, but we're going to walk to the liquor store we could just barely see in the distance. The men got out of the car and started yelling obsenities at us. We ran. They followed.

And then.

A police car appeared and saved the day. A miracle of God's timing? Absolutely. I believe that His timing along with His angels have saved my life many times.

I didn't meet my husband until after my mother died. That might seem like bad timing, but in retrospect, I see it as a miracle. I was honored to be able to help take care of my mother because I was single with no kids. I was able to live with my father during the hardest year of his life, because I hadn't met John yet. And to be honest, until I had that time to kill off some of my selfishness, I wasn't ready to get married. God knew. His timing was miraculous. Less than a year after I moved back to California from my dad's home in Texas, I met John. Miraculous.

Every time I pick up a book that teaches me something about myself or something about God that I needed to learn right then, I know it's God's mirace of timing.

Every time I get a phone call from someone I haven't spoken to in a while, I know our words are part of God's miraculous timing.

He's big like that. He controls, yet He allows us free will. A mystery. A miracle.

Come back on Thursday to read a story of God's miraculous timing that made me cry.

Keeping with the Dog Theme of this Week....

2011-05-05T16:12:00.001-07:00

Click on the following You Tube Video for a wonderful laugh! This video reminds me of my dog Scooby!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nGeKSiCQkPw&feature=share

Dog of my Heart

2011-05-03T11:28:00.000-07:00

God created our hearts with an incredible capacity to grow and love and change. My husband often uses the phrase “live from your heart. “ Yesterday I found out a former student of mine died and the phrase “heart-broken” is spot on. I thank God for my heart and I thank God for the lesson He has taught me about my heart in the last few years.

It concerns a dog.

When I was a child, we owned dogs. I remember Shep and Salt and Pepper and a brown mutt that is nameless in my memory. I don’t remember having any of those pets for a long time. But then there was Vida Blue, a little dog that became a part of our family. I remember him fondly, but not deeply. When I left for college, Vida Blue was still there and when Mama told me they had to put him down, I felt sad but very momentarily. It was just a dog, right?

Almost four years ago, Noah and I went to the Dumb Friends League and adopted a puggle. My friend Lan had told me that puggles were great with children. They presented two to us and one of them was little, quiet and almost scared. The other one was a pretty hefty dog who jumped all over Noah licking him. The big one was in constant motion. The little one seemed sweet. Reserved. I allowed Noah to choose, but I recommended the little one.

He chose the big one, Scooby.

For the first year, I regarded Scooby as a colon-blowing, chewing, howling menace. I tolerated him. When Scooby and I were alone, he would follow me around, often putting his head on my foot when I wrote. I'd often shake him off.

And God began to change my heart. I had no idea I possessed the capacity for such a fierce love of a dog. I used to make fun of dog people, behind their backs of course, and mock them for giving so much of themselves to four-legged pooping machines.

But now, four years later, I look at Scooby as part of our family. A precious addition to my life. My heart has grown two sizes like the Grinch. I love that Scooby cuddles with me on the couch. I love that he loves to sit on John’s lap at night. I love that even though I have a twelve-year-old that at times, terrorizes him, Scooby never bites Noah. Just loves him.

Last night, when I discovered that a former student had died, I cried. And Scooby was there beside me. This morning I woke up feeling horrible and I didn’t want to take my walk. Scooby was there, nudging me with his eyes. It could’ve been that he just needed to go to the bathroom, but he looked insistent. And as we took a forty-five minute walk around this giant open space near my home, I cried and poured out my heart to Jesus. And Scooby went with me. My faithful companion. The dog of my heart.

Thank God for our hearts. According to Proverbs 4:23, springs of life flow out of our hearts. And God uses them to teach us that we have more love to give than we know.

Even to a dog.

Why I am going to watch the Royal Wedding!

2011-04-28T07:16:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time in a vast land called Texas, a baby girl was born.

She grew up to call three places her home – Texas, California and finally the kingdom of Denver, Colorado. This princess found her prince later in life – she was 33. Princess Robbie and Prince John produced a royal heir when she turned 36. At 45, they adopted a royal puggle and knighted him Sir Scooby, dog of all.

Princess Robbie is a wife, mom, former teacher and current writer/speaker.

But most of all, Princess Robbie is a girl.

And even though she is nearing the half century mark, her heart is young and her dreams vivid and filled with colorful tales of everlasting love and romance.

As a girl, Princess Robbie finds substance in making a pot of coffee and getting up in the wee hours of the night in order to cozy up on the couch with a blanket and Sir Scooby and watch two people declare their love in pageantry and pomp and royal splendor.

Princess Robbie looks forward to admiring the gowns and the hats and the beauty of beauty. She anticipates the joy of watching a real live fairy tale. And even if the reality of the situation reminds her that this royal marriage may end, not in the court of Buckingham but the court of divorce, she still clings to the hope that this may actually be a love story in the making that will inspire others.

Princess Robbie owns no tiara or scepter and she’ll be in her pajamas and not a gown during the festivities.

But Robbie is a girl! And with that honor comes the delight of enjoying the possibility of Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella and Prince Charming come to life.

After the opulence and the grandeur, Princess Robbie will go back to real life and with Jesus as her Lord, live happily ever after!

Confession of a Controlling Mother

2011-04-26T10:48:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, Noah was sitting on a bench in our living room. He was petting Scooby and talking to John. I had one of those mom moments, staring at this beautiful gift God gave me and feeling my heart swell up two times its size like the Grinch. And then I sighed because I am both prideful and insecure and I want something for Noah that he will never, thankfully, have.

He will never be me.

I believe one of the worse mistakes a parent can make is to try to control their child. Care for, yes. Guide, yes. Discipline, you bet. Encourage, absolutely. But to try to control? No.

Control comes out in me through attempting to make Noah a little me. I’ve made much progress in this area. I have accepted that Noah is much different than me in most ways, including personality, socialization, hobbies, and the way his brain works. :0) But one area is extremely difficult for me to fully let go. It’s excruciating.

I want to control his spirituality. And I can’t.

As parents, John and I have guided Noah to know Jesus. Noah has made a decision to accept Jesus into his heart. If asked, he would tell you he loves Jesus.

But Noah doesn’t love Jesus the way I want him to.

I made a decision for Christ when I was eight years old and then I made him Lord of everything when I was fourteen. I basically grew up adoring Jesus. He was my best friend. I wrote to Him, I talked to Him. I was not perfect at all, but I really wanted to grow up to be a missionary and live for God.

Noah talks about Jesus/God when we initiate a discussion or if we are coming home from church. He’s into video games and Pokemon, soccer, drama, and all things Math-related.

Not Jesus.

I know I’m wrong to want to control him. Completely, totally, absolutely wrong. Noah is God’s boy. Noah is on loan to me and my biggest job is to love him and show him Jesus through my words and actions. Not through control freak techniques.

But it’s difficult, so I tell myself, “Robbie, just let go!” I say this a lot.

We went to the Saturday night service at our church before Easter. I enjoyed the service and got emotional simply because I love and I am in love with the Father. At one point, my eyes welled up with tears and I looked over at Noah to share the joy. He was slumped in his chair, eyes closed.

“Robbie, just let go!”

Afterward, he told me he enjoyed the speech. (The sermon) I said, “Really?” He said, “Yeah, well yeah-ish.”

“Robbie, let go.”

On Easter Sunday we met a former student, my brother, sis-in-law and nephew for lunch. My brother asked Noah to pray. Noah prayed three simple lines but absolutely wonderful. He thanked Jesus for sacrificing His life and rising from the dead for us. Profound.

When John and I went through our marital trouble years ago, I wanted desperately to change his spirituality. I knew that if he followed my advice, our marriage would be saved. During that time, God told me something I’ll never forget. He said, “Robbie, GET OUT OF MY WAY!”

Perhaps He’s saying it again to me. He knows the plans He has for Noah. He knows the mistakes Noah will make and He knows the successes. He will continue to draw Noah unto Him with relentless love. In fact, He loves Noah more than I ever could.

That last line is difficult for me to believe, but in faith, I do.

In faith, I’ll keep letting go. And in pain.

No Black Dress for Me

2011-04-20T18:20:00.000-07:00

(I was going to blog Thursday through Sunday, too, but I've decided I'm going to end my Holy Week writing with this entry - Happy Easter!)

“Where, O death, is your victory?

Where, O death, is your sting?” 1 Corinthians 15:55

When I was four, my playmate Prissy died in a car accident. One of my earliest memories is the moment my mom told me that Prissy went to be with Jesus.

I lost my beloved Granny when I was 12 and my Grandma Mamie when I was 21.

During my junior high and high school years, I lost seven friends, including a guy I dated.

I’ve lost teacher friends and students. Two of my neighbors committed suicide. Several relatives, some close and some not, have died.

And of course, my beloved parents are both deceased.

A few years ago I was teaching at a Christian high school and I shared with my students that I’ve had a lot of experience with death – two people died right in front of me. I’ve been to way too many funerals.

When I told my class this, one of my students, as only a high school girl can, looked at me in complete sincerity and asked, “Mrs. Iobst, how are you not crying all the time?”

My answer was just as sincere.

“I do cry sometimes, but I live a life of joy because I’ll never attend Jesus’ funeral.”

This Friday we take a day and remember in gratitude the mystery of unconditional love and sacrifice. We imagine the pain Jesus endured and the choice He made to die in order that you and I might truly live.

And then on Sunday we celebrate! We celebrate the One we never need to mourn. The One who lives eternally and who offers each of us the gift of eternal life. I will see many of those I’ve lost again in Heaven, because they accepted Christ’s sacrifice and chose to live for Him.

It truly is extraordinary, isn’t it? We serve a RISEN SAVIOR!

Happy Resurrection Day!

He is Risen; He is Risen Indeed!

My Favorite Holy Week Cheer!

2011-04-20T06:17:00.001-07:00

Jesus, Jesus, He's Our Man!

If He Can't Do It...

We're All Going to Hell.

A Great Way to Celebrate - Obey!

2011-04-19T13:14:00.000-07:00

“Jesus replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me. “Now my soul is troubled, and what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name!” John 12:23-28

Jesus wasn’t a whiner. He had a troubled soul, knowing the time was coming for him to sacrifice his life. But He didn’t whine. He asked God if this was the way to go and apparently God said yes, because Jesus says here, “Father, glorify Your Name!” And in the garden He says, “Father Your will, not mine be done.”

This amazes me. Jesus provided the ultimate example of dying to self.

I am in awe of my God who sent His Son, Jesus and I am in awe of my God Jesus who died for me.

And Jesus told us, you and me, that in order to serve Him, to be a follower of Christ, we need to choose to die to ourselves. This is the most difficult choice we are asked to make daily. You way, God, not mine.

A year after I moved to Denver, my brother Phil went to Albuquerque and attended a silent auction held by Hope Christian School. He saw the painting above and he got it for me. He knew that moving from California was very difficult for me and once here, God told me in every way possible that it was time for me to start dying to myself in a big way.

The picture illustrates John 12:24 “Truly I say to you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”

Do you want to make a difference in the name of Jesus? Do you want to be someone who influences lives for the glory of God? Then you must die to yourself. Do you want to live a life of safety and security? Then don’t die to yourself. Do you want adventure and joy beyond what you thought was possible? Then die to yourself.

Jesus told these words to His disciples just a couple of days before He was crucified. A wonderful way to celebrate Holy Week is to take His advice and obey His wisdom. Die to yourself.

The Smell of Holy Week

2011-04-18T13:00:00.000-07:00

“Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.” John 12:3

I don’t think a lot about smells, until I smell something.

This morning I went into a house where muffins were just baked. Bananas and chocolate chips wafted through the air and brought comfort and sweetness.

On my street, tar is being placed to reinforce certain spots. The smell is heavy dissonance and when I’m outside, I feel I am standing in that place between spots of contentment, wishing the workers would finish soon.

Scooby, my Puggle, needs a bath and a few thousand mints. I don’t let him too close to me today, but I love him snuggling against my leg anyway.

Jesus’s last week before the cross included a few moments of a luxurious smell. Mary of Bethany came to the place he was staying and washed his feet with perfume and wiped his feet with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance.

I bet He loved that scent. It came from love and adoration, pure and complete. Can you imagine him taking it in, sniffing in the dedication of a woman’s heart?

This week is a wonderful week to make our worship a sweet fragrance for Christ. Use your imagination and see the Father breathing in deeply the worship of those who adore Him. What a cool picture.

So how does that happen? For me, to create that perfume for Christ is to purposefully create moments of pure adoration every day. When I walk, I see the trees of my neighborhood and tell my Lord what a tremendous Creator He is. I ate red grapes this morning (they’re on sale at the Sunflower Market) and instead of just popping one after the other, I took a moment to taste the juiciness and the sweetness. Then I told God He really is a Master Chef. Last night I went to my nephew’s birthday party. Three families gathered to eat and play games and celebrate Hunter. I laughed so much. After, I told God that the beauty of the laughter was a gift He gave me. And it wasn’t even my birthday. :0)

In recognizing the gifts God’s given me, be it trees, grapes or laughter, I worship and it emits a sweet smell that wafts its way to the Christ’s nose. He smiles.

Let’s honor Jesus this holy week by taking our own worship and pouring it out for the Father to smell and enjoy.

Palm Sunday - "Hosanna!" Let's Serve!

2011-04-17T09:30:00.000-07:00

I will be blogging each day of Holy Week - Join me!

Last night I had a dream that I remember clearly. This is not always the case for me.

John and I were living in a castle with several other couples. We were there to train to be missionaries. Something John and I have never considered. The main activity in this castle was performing. We would all take turns putting on costumes that we found in an enormous costume room and perform scenes. I don’t know how many of there was of us, but we filled a small auditorium, both performing and watching. I don’t remember the training but I know that was the purpose of being at the castle.

The scene that stuck out to me in the dream was one in which I ran into a woman who said she had seen my laundry in the dryer and it had finished drying so she put the pile onto a table beside the dryer. No big deal, I told her.

I went to get our laundry and noticed that hers was finished drying, too. I took it out and folded it for her.

This is when I was overwhelmed with a truth. The same truth that hit me and stayed with me as I woke up to John getting ready for church.

Serving in humility as a normal, regular act is so much more important that performing.

Today is Palm Sunday, the beginning of Holy Week. This is a week of remembrance and gratitude and celebration. It is Resurrection Week.

It is easy for me to be a performer. It’s in my blood to act and entertain. I have a natural sense of humor my folks gave me and an emotional constitution that can create drama in a second. Just ask John. :0)

And I know God made me this way and in certain circumstances I glorify God through these talents. But “performing as a Christian” is inconsequential. “Performing as a Christian” is a talent many of us who say we love Jesus have perfected. But it is trivial and well, wrong.

To love Jesus and to truly make this week a wonderful time of remembering what Christ did about 2000 years ago is to serve. To be thankful that God sent His only Son to die for me, for you, is to serve without making it a big deal. To celebrate that Jesus, the Christ, the Savior of all mankind, rose from the grave that you and I may have life, is to serve God this week by loving others.

It can be a phone call to someone just to say they matter. It can be going the extra mile to make sure your child has a sweet, meaningful Easter. It can even be folding someone’s laundry as a normal act of love.

Today, oh so long ago, Jesus rode a donkey into Jerusalem. A donkey, not a horse. That in itself communicated humility. People lined his path with palm branches, waving them and saying, “Hosanna!”

I wonder who picked up the palm branches. Random, yes. But the kind of thing that God noticed.

Happy Holy Week, everyone!

A Dandy Lion Among Us

2011-04-07T06:49:00.000-07:00

I’ve never met Jason Ritter. But he has profoundly affected my life.

No, I’m not talking about the son of the late actor John Ritter. I’m talking about a 33-year-old teacher who died a couple of weeks ago in Parker, Colorado. He was a teacher at Legend High School. I’ve never seen a picture of him, nor met any of his family or students.

But he has affected me. Here’s how.

Last weekend my sister-in-law Lory told me about attending Jason Ritter’s memorial service the week before. He attended Parker Evangelical Presbyterian Church in Parker, but because of the crowd expected, the service was held at Southeast Christian Church. Lory said the church was packed, with most of Legend attending as well as many family and friends. Her son Hunter, a student at Legend, attended even though he’d never had Mr. Ritter for a teacher.

Lory said that students and friends spoke about Jason Ritter and the life he lived with tremendous affection. He loved Jesus, his wife and new child. And he loved his students. The kids told how Mr. Ritter made them laugh and think. They loved him. Lory told me that one adult summed up Mr. Ritter’s professional career when he said, “There are good teachers. There are bad teachers. And then there are difference makers. Jason Ritter was a difference maker.”

Jason had been fighting cancer for months. He often told his students as they visited and prayed for him, “Expect a miracle.”

Before he died he told a friend, “I’m worried about the kids. They’ve been expecting a miracle and I don’t think they’re going to get it.”

When Lory told us this, our friend Char said, “Those kids are the miracle.”

I agree with Char. I also think pieces of that miracle are those moments when a few of those kids decide to become teachers, difference makers, simply because Mr. Ritter made a difference in them. Part of the miracle is that teenager, and I am SURE there is at least one, who watched Mr. Ritter love Jesus even as a public school teacher and then decided to give Jesus a chance himself. Part of the miracle is the countless conversations that have happened in the last two weeks that inspire people to make a difference in someone else’s life.

Jason Ritter is now in heaven, hanging out with Jesus. That’s a miracle, too. Jason Ritter’s widow, who I’m sure is going through unimaginable grief, will experience God’s comfort. She will. And that’s a miracle.

When we discover that among us, near us, is someone who finds a way to live above the bondage of self and pour his life into others, we are inspired. We see that the extraordinary is possible. In each of us. Not just Jason Ritter.

I picture a dandelion, that little white weed that kids are enthralled with. It is a part of childhood joy to take one of those dandelions and blow on it and watch the tiny little white seeds scatter through the wind, falling randomly. At the same time, a parent says, “Don’t do that, child. Everywhere those seeds fall, a new dandelion grows.”

Could it be that our God can turn the tragedy of such a young death into a miracle? I say yes. I say that the little seeds of Jason Ritter’s love are scattering through the wind right now and landing and inspiring others to grow up to be difference makers.

He’s influenced me and I never met him. Thank you, Jason Ritter.

Looking for the Light

2011-04-05T12:55:00.000-07:00

March 22nd was a difficult day for me. A couple of days before, my computer crashed. I lost all my files – writing, pictures, all of it. I am still hopeful it can be recovered, but I don’t know. The next day my phone quit working. It was an old phone, so I think it died of natural causes. On March 22nd, our car was diagnosed with an illness that could be cured but only for a whole lot of money. And finally, my son woke up sick.

Not a good day.

John and I have been praying and we’ve made a decision to do something that is exciting and scary in the realm of ministry. We knew all this happening at once was an attack from the enemy. It hurt but we told each other to keep our heads up, praying.

On Facebook, I asked for prayer and Diane Shaw, a wonderful writer and friend, commented that she had written a blog about the times when we feel darkness surrounding us. Her blog is titled "Light in the Darkness." http://needmorewordscs.blogspot.com/2011/03/light-in-darkness.html One line from that article hit me: “When it appears that darkness is total, open your eyes, observe the pin pricks of light that God has sent your way.”

I determined to look for those “pin pricks.” Once I began looking, I found myself awash in the light of the Lord. His hope and encouragement bathed me in the sunshine of my friends.

Here’s some of what happened:

After my prayer request on Facebook, I was given lots of encouraging words through Facebook comments and emails.
My friend Kay called me and made me laugh. A joyful light came over me through the phone.
I checked my email and found two acceptances to little stories I’d written from a local magazine/newspaper. God knew I needed this.
His Word talked to me. I read Nehemiah 1:11 and saw that Nehemiah unashamedly asked for favor from God. This prompted me to have a wonderful time of pouring my heart out to God.
A Facebook buddy of mine, Darryl, asked me about my car and gave me advice about it. So kind and a generous offering of God’s light.
In the afternoon, I was watching TV and looked through the Guide and saw that “The Waltons” was back on Hallmark. This may be silly to you, but to me it was a gift from Jesus. I LOVE that show and watching it made me happy.
John and I have some friends, the Vineyards, who are wonderful. Michelle called me and then she and Aaron came over that night, bringing us dinner from Olive Garden and praying for us. Their sweet ministering overwhelmed me with His light.

The “pin pricks” Diane wrote about became so real to me. Each of those little lights gave John and me courage. We weren’t in despair – no one was in the hospital and we weren’t in the middle of a tsunami. But we were attacked and it hurt.

What a gift Diane gave me through her words and advice to look for God’s light. I did and I almost got sunburned with friendship. If you are having a bad day or a horrible day, look for the pin pricks of light that God is waiting to shine on your darkness.

No Makeup March!!

2011-03-23T12:12:00.000-07:00

One of these pictures is a photo of me without makeup. The other one not only has makeup, but is professionally touched up.

One of these pictures was taken this morning, in front of my bathroom mirror. The other was taken a couple of years ago in a photography studio.

Yet, they are both of me. Robbie Iobst, overweight and beautiful woman. Normal middle age gal with normal middle age gal insecurities.

A week ago, my sister-in-law Kasey told me about some young women at her high school. She is a teacher of philosophy and Bible. She told me that a group of these girls have taken a stand in declaring a NO MAKEUP MARCH. They go to school each day this month with no makeup on their faces. They are simply saying, "I am beautiful just as I am, with or without makeup on my face." This is a huge feat for junior and senior girls. But in many ways, it would be just as big a feat for women my age.

Is it true that each of us are beautiful with or without makeup? Well, it depends on who you believe. If you believe society and what it seems to preach in the media, a woman without makeup is just not that attractive. If you believe God and His Word, a woman is beautiful simply because God created her feminine and lovely.

But don't we have a part in showing the beauty that God gave us as women?

1 Peter 3: 3-4 says

"Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight."

Peter says that beauty comes from within not on the outside. I agree with that, but I also believe that taking care of oneself is a way to glorify God with your body. Like it says in Romans 12:1 "Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship."

Taking care of yourself means eating right, exercising and making decisions that honor your body.

And for many women, taking the time to put on makeup honors the body and therefore, glorifies God. But in our society, putting on makeup can become a form of vanity and even a way to hide our true selves. I've met women who feel ashamed of their looks if they don't have makeup on. I don't agree with this. God made us, ladies. And if we receive His love, the light of Jesus will make our countenance gorgeous, lushious lashes or not.

It's probably easier for me to say this than many, since I am not a woman who wears makeup every day.

But the temptation to be insecure about my weight is just as strong as any women's insecurity about a face with no foundation or blush. What's at the heart of this? Simply put: Acceptance. Accepting who we are as God's lovely creations, made in His image, purposed to glorify Him in all we do.

So I salute those gals at Hope High School in Albuquerque and any other women who take this stand.

YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL! Believe this. Accept this. Thank God for this.

And then with or without Covergirl, He will cover You girl, with His presence and security!

Does Watching the Tragedy in Japan scare you? Here's the Answer:

2011-03-17T07:15:00.000-07:00

The news brings the world into our living rooms and along with it, the tragedy that is going on in Japan. If you are like me, and some of you are, it is difficult to watch those poor people and not feel horrible. Compassion is part of it. But fear comes also. What if that happened to me and my family or my neighborhood? What would I do?

Let me offer today, not my wisdom, but God's! Look at the following passage from Proverbs 3, written by Solomon, the wisest of men.

"My son, do not let wisdom and understanding out of your sight, preserve sound judgment and discretion;
they will be life for you, an ornament to grace your neck. Then you will go on your way in safety, and your foot will not stumble. When you lie down, you will not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.
Have no fear of sudden disaster or of the ruin that overtakes the wicked, for the LORD will be at your side and will keep your foot from being snared." Proverbs 3: 21-25

Acquiring, cherishing and using the wisdom of God through His Word, the Bible, has immeasurabe benefits:

1) His Words, His Wisdom is LIFE! Like a gorgeous necklace that adds beauty to your outfit, the Word of God lived wisely gives your life the quality of pulchritude. It makes you more attractive, not because or your righteousness, but because of God's goodness.

2) His Wisdom keeps your foot from stumbling. Don't you hate it when you fall? I fell the other night coming down some steps in the dark. Ouch! The Word of God is like the light I needed coming down those steps. His Word illuminates every situation, guarding me from falling flat on my face.

3) His Words give you courage and sweet sleep. If you have insomnia, the reason could be medical, of course, but it could be spiritual. Set your mind on His Word before you lie down. Focus on His Wisdom and you will sleep better.

4) His Wisdom, His Words supply the security that we all need at times. Especially if we see other humans being overtaken by sudden disaster, like in Japan. We don't have to be afraid of earthquakes or tsunamis, simply because we are filled with the Words of the One who is in complete control of all. Is that a guarantee we'll never have to live through a sudden disaster? No. That means we need not fear it. So many of us are controlled by fear. If you soak yourself in God's Word, fear dissipates.

5) His Word and His Wisdom within us guarantees the Lord will always be with us. His Presence is the ultimate reward in following Christ. He will never leave us or betray us. Never.
Open your Bible today and ask God to fill you up!

Stop Hurrying. Just stop.

2011-03-15T18:44:00.000-07:00

A couple of months ago, a good friend gave me an honest obervation. "Robbie, every time anything out of the ordinary is coming up on your schedule, you get really stressed."

After I told her we would never be friends again, I thought about what she said. :0)

She's right. Be it a speaking engagement, going on a trip or having relatives come over, I get near freaked out.

What to do?

This is not a new behavior but I have tried to quell my stress for a while now, and I've done a good job. But seeing a pattern in my life gave me an opportunity to address a specific scenario.

So, last week I had a speaking engagment on Saturday. On Tuesday, I started kind of watching myself, seeing if I could not get stressed. It worked and I was feeling fine. Until...

Friday night came and I felt my stomach tie itself into knots while my feet kept twitching. The stress arrived.

So now, what to do? I prayed specifically and asked God to give me peace and give me a strategy to combat the stress.

And this is what I heard. STOP HURRYING, ROBBIE. JUST STOP.

I took this seriously. I gave myself extra time the next morning to get ready. I purposefully breathed slowly. As I drove to the event, I made a conscious choice to not exceed the speed limit. (With me, this must be a conscious choice.)

When I walked into a ladies brunch of about 150, I noticed that I wasn't "freaked out." I didn't know anyone, but as I met the leader I felt comfortable. Many times when I go somewhere to speak, I will sit down but not be able to engage in conversation freely, because I am thinking about my talk and feeling my level of nervousness rise until I either have to leave or speak. :0)

Saturday, I talked to the ladies around me and laughed with them as if I was just hanging with some friends dressed in our sweats chatting about life. It was wonderful! So when the leader introduced me, the peace, HIS peace that passes understanding filled me up.

Are you like me? When we get nervous, the natural step to take is to hurry up. They go hand in hand.

So why not try this? Watch yourself when stress attacks. Purposefully slow down. Walk slower. Take extra time to get ready. How about choose the longest line in the grocery store?

Why not? Why not stop the hurry and enjoy those tiny little moments inbetween the tasks?

If you do this or do something else, share with me. How do you deal with stress?

The Beauty of Reconciliation

2011-03-10T09:39:00.000-08:00

(The following is the devotion I wrote this week called a "Joyvotion."

If you want to receive Joyvotions in your email, just let me know at robbieiobst at hotmail dot com.)

“All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation.” 2 Corinthians 5:18-19

Last weekend John and Noah and I flew to California for my stepdaughter’s wedding. What an incredible time we had. I love weddings anyway, but this one was so special. And gorgeous. We went to a park right beside a beach on a 72 degrees day. Sarah, the bride, looked stunning as did my other stepdaughters, Marriah and Hannah. John and Noah wore matching ties and socks and as they each said, repeatedly, “I make this look good.”

But the real joy of the weekend was in the feeling of reconciliation. John has had a rocky relationship with his daughters and I have prayed for total reconciliation with them for years. Two years ago when John had a horrible motorcycle accident, healing began. The three girls came to see John in the hospital and beginning steps were made.

In the last few months, because of God’s grace, John’s ex-wife, Annie, and I have become friends. This has not always been the case. But God can change things. He can reconcile us to each other, just as He reconciled all of us to Him through Jesus on the cross.

The culmination of years of prayer, God’s grace, His power of reconciliation and the choice to forgive each other and yield to His way was evident in the way we all related to each other. The words Step and Ex had no power. We were just family.

I am so grateful to God for what has happened and what will continue to happen. I hope this encourages you to not stop hoping for reconciliation where it just hasn’t happened. In Los Angeles this past weekend, the work of God was evident in my heart and what I saw. There were a couple of times I almost burst with gratitude to Him.

I think God got even bigger for me this weekend. I love Him so, but I will never comprehend just how powerful and loving He is. Before I left Colorado, I emailed a few friends and asked them to pray. During my time there, I got a text from one of those ladies saying “I pray your breath will be taken away by the beauty of God’s redemption.”

It was.

The beauty of His redemption through reconciliation is a painting with colorful strokes of grace and joy and possibility. If you are praying for someone’s reconciliation with God or with another person, don’t stop. It CAN happen. Anything is possible with Him.

Top Ten Moments from our Trip to California!

2011-03-08T07:19:00.000-08:00

This past weekend we flew to Redondo Beach, California to celebrate the wedding of my stepdaughter Sarah and her now husband Erik. It was beautiful and joyful and lovely and meaningful. I'm truly at a loss for words, believe it or not.

I'm a firm believer in the fact that moments make up life and cherishing those moments make life more meaningful. Too many times we race past those instances in which something precious has happened. With this in mind, I've made a list of the top ten moments that made this past weekend one of total joy.

10) Standing in the airport in Los Angeles with John and Noah spotting celebrities.

Are these the girls from Jersey Shore?

Justin Bieber, right?

Who are these guys?

9) The welcome hug I received from John's ex-wife Annie, my friend and "sister wife."

8) I got to spend several hours with my stepdaughters, running errands for the wedding. The conversations were priceless! I've never felt closer to Marriah, my oldest.

Hannah, Noah, Sarah and Marriah

7) I drove to Party City with Annie and once again, our talk meant so much to me.

6) At the rehearsal dinner, several folks shared stories about Sarah and Erik. It was a moving display of love.

5) The next morning, Noah and I spent quite a while in the hotel pool and jacuzzi. In March. Outside. We can't do this in Colorada. Playing with my boy in one of our favorite places ( a pool) was wonderful.

4) Watching John walk Sarah down the sidewalk made my heart sing. Beautiful.

3) The vows and the prayer over Sarah and Erik are both so special to me. As John said, "We're witnessing one of God's miracles. Two become one."

2) Visiting and dancing and visiting and dancing at the reception. I will never forget John cutting loose on the dance floor. Of course, the next morning, John and I groaned and said to each other, "You get up and get the Ibuprofen." "No, YOU get up and get the Ibuprofen."

And the number one moment of the weekend:

1) This weekend brought a kind of "culmination of bonding" with my stepdaughters and their mom that has been in the works since John's accident, a couple of years ago. The words "step" and "ex" had no power. We were all family. You have no idea how much this blessed me. At the airport, John and Noah said goodbye to Annie. Then she and I hugged. Tight. I whispered to her, "Thank you, sister wife. This has been wonderful." And she said to me, "This is how family should be."
Amen!

Sarah's family or as Annie calls them "Circus People." :0)

We're part of the circus! :0)

Persist

2011-03-03T15:33:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow, the three of us are hopping on a plane and flying out to California. For some reason, I feel a little like a Clampett except we haven’t found any bubbling crude, black gold or Texas tea. The occasion is one of tremendous joy – my middle stepdaughter, Sarah, is getting married! I love weddings and this one, of course, will be especially beautiful.

Sarah’s mom, Annie, told me that she and the mom of the groom are wearing black dresses and I should wear one, too. Sweet! A reason to shop. I went to Dress Barn and I found one on clearance AND I had a coupon. My dress cost…drum roll…$15! If you are a shopper, you are probably experiencing something visceral just reading that. :0)

Sarah’s color is lapis, which is like a dark purple. I decided to find a purple brooch to put on my black dress. Dress Barn didn’t have one. Walmart didn’t have one. Target didn’t have one. So this morning I went to JC Penney. For twenty minutes, I scoured every table and every stand of jewelry looking for a purple brooch. Nothing.

But then…

I saw a little box in the center of a table underneath a shelf with a box on top of it. I crouched down, reached back and grabbed the box. I opened it and Voila! A purple brooch! And to boot, a purple brooch on sale!

Persistence won. Sure, this is a tiny example of not quitting. If I didn’t find a purple brooch, it would not be drastically consequential. At all. But that little feeling of “YES, I found it” was wonderful.

Every day you and I are faced with questions of persistence.

Do I really need to clean all the dishes before I go to bed?

Should I give that little extra at work today?

Do I really want to exercise this morning?

Should I spend another fifteen minutes trying to find a purple brooch?

Sometimes we say no. We’re tired. It’s just not important enough. But when we say yes, the reward is always worth the trouble. A clean kitchen when we wake up. The feeling of doing our best. A healthier body and better self image.

And that sweet moment when you crouch down, reach back and grab the exact brooch you wanted.

Today, when the question arises, go for it! Persist!

Confession Time: I Can't Seem to Change!

2011-03-01T12:34:00.000-08:00

I cannot seem to Kindle a desire to read a book without an actual book in my hands. I sit in my Nook and I turn pages instead of punching buttons. I smell fresh paper or old paper, not cold metal. In order to read tomorrow, I just have to put my book down and pick it up again when I wake up. I don’t have to search for an outlet and plug in a charger.

However…change is coming. Change is here.

I rarely feel old. I have a young heart and a disposition that looks for the bright side of life. But as I read about the bankruptcy of Borders and as I listen to friends debate Kindle vs. Nook, I feel old.

Not long ago, I watched a BBC show set in England in the early 1900s. The master of a huge mansion explains to his butler that they will have a telephone soon. The butler tells the rest of the servants. Many of them are aghast. Why? We are fine without a telephone! What about the noise of it? It will kill our nerves.

Change was huge news in those times. Resistance to change was a natural reaction. We live in a time where change is the norm. It’s constant. The folks who make the eReaders and eBooks are the Borgs of our society. “Resistance is futile.”

I hope not. But I am a writer and my second home is the library and my third home, the book stores. What’s next? Will libraries have e-readers to check out, complete with e-books?

I don’t think books will ever be extinct. They are too ingrained in who we are as a culture. But as someone told me last week, “I think in the future books will be like plays. We watch TV and movies constantly because they are at our fingertips. Easy access. To watch a play takes effort and a conscious choice. So in the future we’ll have eBooks at our fingertips, but if we want the pure enjoyment of a book, we will have to make a conscious choice.”

Yikes. Am I 70 yet? That’s how I feel.

This past Christmas, my mother-in-law gave my son a Nook. I sit here on my couch and I glance at it, sitting on an end table, hooked up for more power. To resent this doodad is silly, but it is honestly how I feel. Maybe because I am a writer, I see this device as an encroachment on the world I’ve loved so much. To sit in the middle of tall bookshelves, filled with adventure and mystery and romance, is an integral part of what I believe childhood should be. Noah wanted a couple of books last week. He could have ordered them on the Nook. Easily and less expensive than the book store. But I told him I’d go and get him the books. I did and felt as if I’d won a tiny battle against this black and white device that sits beside me.

I don’t feel badly about ITunes or Netflix. I welcome the convenience of getting music or a movie off the web. I enjoy it. But books? Books are magical. I know that in reality, the same stories show up on the e-reader. The same experience is conveyed. Yet I resist it. I resist the change that seems to be all around me.

This is a real battle for me. I am my mother when we got her a microwave oven. She stared at it for a while and used it only after months of owning it. I mean, can you really cook something without a good ole stove? Really?

Sigh. I am a work in progress. A rebel on a beach, standing against a tidal wave of change. I’m going to get wet. Maybe I’ll order an eBook soon and try out Noah’s Nook.

Maybe not.

The Oscar Blog -with Hillary Manton Lodge!

2011-02-26T00:01:00.000-08:00

I met another writer, current friend and fellow film enthusiast through the internet. Her name is Hillary Manton Lodge and in our excitement for the Oscars, we decided to have a cyber - conversation predicting the winners of Sunday night's Academy Awards. Join us! There are a lot of categories, so we're going to dive right into the Best Actor Category -

Best Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role

Robbie: Colin Firth. This is a no brainer. He won the Golden Globe and the SAG for The King’s Speech. He is just excellent as the stuttering King George VI. His fear is palpable. I’m a long time Firth fan, since I saw him as the gorgeous Mr. Darcy in BBC’s Pride and Prejudice. I say it’s about time.

Hillary: Hear, hear! I’m in total agreement. Colin’s put out a lot of good work lately; he gets stuck in some thankless roles sometimes (The Accidental Husband comes to mind,) so I’m delighted that he’s gotten the recognition for his more serious work.

He’s a talented man, even when he’s not walking out of a lake.

Best Performance by an Actress in a Leading Role

Hillary: Natalie Portman. End of conversation. It was very shrewd of her to become pregnant and engaged to the choreographer of her film, because her “aww” factor is unbeatable at this point. It doesn’t hurt that she acted her bony little toes off in Black Swan, either – that statuette is hers.

Robbie: I haven’t seen Black Swan, but she’s won for this role at the Golden Globes and the SAGs. My personal
favorite is Nicole Kidman in Rabbit Hole. She was soooooo good!

Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role

Robbie: Christian Bale playing Dicky Eklund in The Fighter is a tour de force performance. I didn’t recognize him at all. He’ll win, but I do have a place in my heart for Geoffrey Rush from The King’s Speech. He is outstanding in it.

Which of these would you choose, Hillary?

Hillary: Christian Bale. But I feel the same way about Geoffrey Rush! It was nice to see him not dressed as a pirate for once :-)

Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role

Hillary: I’m going with Hailee Steinfeld on this one. I think Melissa Leo had it pretty much sewn up until she pulled this stunt, which was – weirdy weird? I don’t even know what to say. And frankly, if she doesn’t show up to the Oscars in flow-length fur.

But Hailee, Hailee is young and fresh as a California daisy, with enough spunk and screen presence to hold her own next to Jeff Bridges, Matt Damon, and Josh Brolin. And as far as I know, she’s publicly avoided fur.

Robbie – you’ve seen both True Grit and The Fighter. Thoughts?

Robbie: Melissa Leo will win. I used to love watching her in an old TV show called Homicide. So I’m a fan. And when I saw The Fighter, I didn’t recognize her at all. Total transformation. Hailee was excellent, but I believe Melissa was better. As far as the ad goes, you’re right – weirdy weird! Hope that doesn’t ruin it fur her.

Hillary: Groan!!!

Best Achievement in Directing

Hillary: This one’s tricky! Normally the DGA (Director’s Guild Awards) is the major predictor for this category. Tom Hooper of The King’s Speech won, but all the buzz and predictions is in David Fincher’s favor (The Social Network).

I’m a fan of Fincher – I thought his Zodiac was amazing, and I feel that under his direction, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo has a shot at being okay.

But…I’m going with the guild with this one. I may be wrong. But the guild seldom leads me astray.

Robbie, what do you think?

Robbie: I think the Academy Award voters will actually split and give the Best Picture to The King’s Speech and give Best Director to Tom Hooper. I doubt The Social Network will get any other awards besides writing, and this is a wonderful, relevant movie. Hooper will win is my guess.

Best Writing, Screenplay Written Directly for the Screen

Robbie: David Seidler will win for The King’s Speech because it will win best movie of the year. Mr. Seidler suffered from a stutter as a child and that tidbit adds to the sentimental factor. But Christopher Nolan SHOULD win for Inception. It is original and written with a rhythm and complexity that makes the audience actually think about the plot. Loved it!

You’re a wonderful writer Hillary, so what do you think?

Hillary: Aw, thanks Robbie :-) Both Inception and The King’s Speech, obviously great screenplays. It’s tricky to compare the two, because they’re so different. Inception is so very plot-oriented, The King’s Speech is all about character.

Of the two, I definitely have a stronger emotional attachment to The King’s Speech. I loved how it was about so many things without being heavy-handed in one direction or another.

The win will definitely go to The King’s Speech, but truly, if Speech and Inception hadn’t released the same year, the award would go to Chris Nolan for Incpetion.

Best Writing, Screenplay Based on Material Previously Produced or Published

Hillary: Aaron Sorkin (The Social Network) has this in the bag. Though I have to say, while the writing was classic Sorkin brilliance most of the time, I found the opening sequence to be a little too “Hey look at me, see how clever my writing is,” and made it difficult to really get into the film at first. If you’re writing is stopping the reader/viewer/partaker of media from becoming involved in the piece as a whole, it’s time to edit.

There’s my Social Network rant.

In my perfect, happy world, I would honestly give the award to the Cohen siblings for True Grit. I loved the dialogue; it was wordy when it needed to be and spare when necessary. But that’s just me.

Back to you, Robbie!

Robbie: You make a great point about the cleverness of Aaron Sorkin, but that’s what I adore about his writing. I think he deserves the trophy. The Cohen brothers based their movie more on the book than the original John Wayne movie and I believe the book is where they got the style of writing from. So, although True Grit’s wording is interesting, I found The Social Network to be more interesting.

Hillary: I can honor that!

Best Animated Feature Film of the Year

Robbie: Toy Story 3 should and will win! My son liked How To Train Your Dragon much more, but the voters are all adults who will award not just this movie but the dynasty of great animation movies that is Toy Story 1,2 and 3.

Hillary: Totally agree. It’s kind of like the Best Picture win for Return of the King, except with Fisher Price toys. Loved HTTYD, though. Note: just looking at this picture makes me teary!

Best Foreign Language Film of the Year

Hillary: I’m going with Incendies, from Canada, but this is always a tricky one to predict. I haven’t seen any of the films, but I’ll definitely catch most of them after they release to DVD.

Dark horse: Suzanne Bier’s In a Better World, mainly because the Academy loves Suzanne Bier. (She directed 2006’s After the Wedding, which showed the softer side of Mads Mikkelsen).

Robbie – have you seen any of the nominees?

Robbie: Nope. But every time I Netflix a foreign movie, I base it on the last year’s nominees. So eventually I’ll see them all. For this category, I vote randomly. Incendies sounds good.

Best Achievement in Cinematography

Robbie: I hope Roger Deakins will win for True Grit. He’s been nominated for this award 9 times for films like Fargo and The Shawshank Redemption but he’s never won. True Grit was not my favorite movie this year, but the camera work is excellent and makes you feel as if you are truly in the old west. I love the underdog and for someone to be nominated 9 times and not win, well, that’s sad. I’m hoping number 10 will be a charm.

Hillary: This is another tricky one. Inception won the ASC award, but there are a lot of people who want to see Roger Deakins win. While I think giving him the award is not unlike Martin Scorcese’s Oscar for The Departed, I hope he wins. If he doesn’t, the Oscar will be going home with Wally Pfister for Inception.

Best Achievement in Editing

Hillary: The Social Network won the Eddie Award (how cute is that!), which is the Editor’s Guild award. Though technically Alice in Wonderland won an award as well, the Oscar will go to The Social Network.

My Preference: Well, my heart is with The King. The thing that worries me is that, traditionally, the film that wins Best Editing usually wins Best Pic…

Robbie: My heart, too, is with The King’s Speech. However, I have to tell you I was shocked that Inception was not included in this category. I felt the editing in that movie kept the suspense taut and the action moving. My personal Robbie Award for Best Editing – Inception!

Hillary: Yeah, Inception’s lack of a nom here was strange. Christopher Nolan won a special award at the Eddies, but I’m not sure it makes up for the slight.

Best Achievement in Makeup

Robbie: I haven’t seen any of these movies, but I checked out the character’s make up online from each one. Barney’s Version is aging make up. The Way Back is war time battle make up and The Wolfman is monster make up. My vote is for The Wolfman because they transformed Benicio del Torro from a beautiful man to a hairy creature. That’s craft!

Hillary: I agree! Though I do think Benicio del Toro is kinda funny looking. ..

Robbie: Then I’ll take the funny looking one.

Best Achievement in Costume Design

Hillary: Both Alice in Wonderland and The King’s Speech took home Costume Designers Guild Awards, but Colleen Atwood (Alice won fairly recently for both Memoirs of a Geisha and Chicago. Jenny Beavan, on the other hand, hasn’t won since A Room With a View, though she’s costumed films such as Ever After, Possession, Sherlock Holmes, and Sense and Sensibility, all films I really like and thought were very strong costume-wise.

So I’m going with Jenny.

Robbie: Absolutely. The King’s Speech costumes were on the money.

Best Achievement in Music Written for Motion Pictures, Original Song

Robbie: “We Belong Together” from Toy Story 3 is my pick. The songs from 127 Hours, Country Strong and Tangled are all slow beautiful ballads, but Randy Newman’s “We Belong Together” is fun, cheerful and perfectly fits the friendship theme in Toy Story 3.

Hillary: Agreed! Throw in the Toy Story 3 “aww” factor (up there with Natalie’s baby bump), and it’s definitely Randy Newman for the win :-)

Best Achievement in Music Written for Motion Pictures, Original Score

Hillary: Again, it’s between The Social Network and The King’s Speech. Again, it’s between the hip factor and the conservative but nice.

However, I think the fact that the Academy is…how to put it…aging…the fact that Alexandre Desplat’s score is truly lovely, and the fact that he’s been nominated four times – I’m going with Alex, despite the fact that he has a strange looking upper lip.

Which score did you prefer, Robbie?

Robbie: I disagree with you on this one, Hillary. Although the scores from The Social Network and The King’s Speech were wonderful, the score from Inception was brilliant. It probably won’t win but it should. I think if not Inception’s score, the score from The King’s Speech will win.

Hillary: Interesting choice!

Best Achievement in Sound Editing

Robbie: Inception. The sound is dreamy. Yes, that was an intentional pun.

Hillary: Well, if there’s going to be a pun, it may as well be intentional…

Best Achievement in Sound Mixing

Hillary: Inception. Because it’s cool and techy.

Robbie: Much better than cold and tacky.

Best Achievement in Visual Effects

Robbie: The Visual Effects team of Inception should and will win, hands down. The dream scenes with all the paradoxical architecture are absolutely outstanding. A house has a flood within it, a street of buildings collapse slowly and a staircase appears to never end. These are just three of the amazing visual effects this movie has to offer.

Hillary: I’m going to disagree here. My prediction is a win for Iron Man; Academy voters have historically been shown to be easily swayed by men in metal suits.
…

Just kidding. Starting to get loopy here. If there wasn’t a pun above, it probably wouldn’t have happened. The award will go to Inception.

Robbie: Oh, Hillary-san, you funny when loopy.

Best Achievement in Art Direction

Hillary: This one is tricky too. Alice in Wonderland is favored by many to win, but it didn’t win an Art Director’s Guild award.

But it was big and splash and had Johnny Depp in it.

But The King’s Speech – which did win an ADG award, was really lovely.

Difficult to say. At this point…erg. Will it go to Alice because Alice isn’t likely to win anything else? Or to King’s Speech because voters are caught up in a wave of voting love, as they tend to do?

I’m going to argue with the other predictors and go with Speech. I may be wrong.

OR…voters could go with Inception, which also won a ADG award and looked amazing, and less like a Tim Burton movie. Truly and deeply conflicted. Did the elderly voters stay awake long enough to see Paris fold over on itself? Sticking with Speech for the time being, but I’ll let you know if I change my mind.

Robbie – insight? Help?

Robbie: You bring up a great point about the “seniority” of the Academy Award members. But I am going to be idealistic and say that they saw all of the entries with an open mind. If they did, I believe it would be between Inception (I really liked that movie – can you tell?) and Alice in Wonderland. I’m going to go with my favorite, Inception.

Hillary: Thank you for your calm words of wisdom, Robbie-san.

Best Documentary, Features

Robbie: The only one I’ve seen is Exit Through the Gift Shop and I think it will win. It’s the story of graffiti artists. Doesn’t sound that interesting, but it made me care about these nocturnal lovers of graffiti art.

Hillary: I’ve heard good things about Exit, but all the buzz I’ve read about is saying Inside Job. This may be because a lot of Hollywood celebs lost a lot of money last year.

Best Documentary, Short Subjects

Hillary: Based on the subject material, I’m going for Killing in the Name. Mind you, I haven’t seen any of the shorts.

Robbie: I think I’ll choose Poster Girl although I haven’t seen any of them either. I like the irony of the film – The film’s subject was on the cover of an Army magazine and went to Iraq and then suffered from post traumatic stress disorder. I want to see this one.

Best Short Film, Animated

Robbie: The only one I’ve seen is the one that will win. Not because of me, of course. Day and Night was the short film by Pixar that was shown before Toy Story 3. I thought it was brilliant.

Hillary: I’m leaning towards The Lost Thing myself, but this tends to be a tricky category to predict.

Best Short Film, Live Action

Hillary: Ebert says Na Wewe – I say, sure!

Robbie: Ebert knows.

And finally, the Big Kahuna….

Best Motion Picture of the Year

Robbie: The King’s Speech. It has the Academy Award feel of a Best Picture. It is a great story and wonderfully told, well-acted, and the ending allows the audience to feel wonderfully. There is a slight chance for an upset with The Social Network taking the honor being a movie of our times, completely relevant to what is going on in our technological world. But most of the voters are older, so I’m going to go with The King’s Speech.

Hillary: I agree, for the same reasons. While I think the fact that it has that Best Pic Material sheen seemed to it hurt it earlier on, The Social Network experienced the same backlash that Up in the Air did last year to a certain extent.

That being said, The King’s Speech is a wonderful story with characters that really resonate; the film’s success is an illustration of the way audiences respond to films with well-written characters.

Robbie: Lovely to banter with you Hillary! Here’s to the Oscars! And speaking of the ceremony - what will you be wearing?

Hillary: I had trouble deciding. Either:

Elie Saab, from the Spring 2011 collection. Or:

This is from Carolina Herrera's Fall 2011 collection; you can see it move here. The skirt is, like, alive. But I'd probably want to stick a giant sparkly pin on the waistband, so I'm not to be trusted with fashion.

Robbie: Even with a giant sparkly pin, you'll look stunning, Hilary. I, too, had trouble deciding. So I decided to pick something that my personal friend and look-a-lile Penelope Cruz might wear. She modeled the following for me:

Either:

Or:

Robbie: So there you have it! Thank you Hillary for a wonderful conversation! Hillary will be live tweeting during the ceremony so check her out. Also, you have to go to her blog http://www.hillaryonwriting.blogspot.com/ and read her two wonderful novels, Plain Jayne and Simply Sara!

I will be hosting a party Sunday night and enjoying the festivities with some friends. Here's to the Oscars! Silly, wonderful fun! :0)

WAIT!

2011-02-24T15:19:00.000-08:00

“I wait for the LORD, my whole being waits, and in His word I put my hope.” Psalm 130:5

Are you waiting?

Currently, I’m waiting for our trip to California to my stepdaughter’s wedding. So excited! I’m waiting on the day I will have lost 100 pounds. (It’s a ways off.) I’m waiting on a check in the mail from Chicken Soup. I’m waiting for that glorious day when I get an entire book by me published. I’m waiting on my husband to see how incredible I am. Wait, strike the last one. It’s happened. :0)

Waiting is difficult. Last week I received a rejection for my writing in the mail, which is not uncommon, and it devastated me, which is uncommon. Not sure why this one got to me but it did. So I went to God and whined. Why? Why not me, God? Am I supposed to write?

God led me to a little book by Henri Nouwen called Finding My Way Home and a chapter in that book called “The Power of Waiting.” It changed my paradigm. God changed my heart.

Here’s some of what God, through Henri, taught me.

• Waiting on God is waiting on His fulfillment in me. It is a process that is based on waiting on something that’s already begun in me. God’s fulfillment, though not complete, is already growing in me like a little seed into a beautiful plant. Waiting on God is not waiting for something to initially happen; it is waiting for God to continue His work.

• Waiting involves patience. Henri wrote, “Impatient people expect the real thing to happen somewhere else, and therefore they want to get away from the present situation and go elsewhere. Patient people dare to stay where they are.” I love that. Do I dare to stay right where I am? Or do I waste time chasing dreams in my mind?

• Waiting is to be active. Waiting on God is not like you’re standing, waiting for a bus. It is expecting EACH DAY to be a step in the fulfillment of God’s purposes. It is believing that God is at work RIGHT NOW. Even as I write this Joyvotion, God is at work in me. Even as you read this Joyvotion, God is at work in you.

• Waiting is open-ended. I find myself full of wishes, especially when it comes to writing and speaking. Henri reminded me that often wishes get tangled up with fear. My wish to have a novel published masks my fear of never having a novel published. That fear blocks open-ended waiting. So I must try to let go of my wishes and live in HOPE. Hope that fulfillment, according to the promises of God will continue to grow within me.

Are you waiting on God for something? How about join me and just wait on God. Affirm what He’s already started in you and look for His fulfillment to grow each day.

Someone asked me last night how my writing was going. I answered confidently, “I’m waiting on the Lord. He’s doing what He wants.”

My Annual Academy Awards Movie Review

2011-02-22T13:25:00.000-08:00

The Academy Awards are this Sunday. Many folks don’t care about this award show. I am not one of those folks. I have been watching this show since I was eleven and I love it. I enjoy watching the stars arrive, I like looking at all the gowns and I actually get pleasure from watching the show. Someone asked me once why I like award shows so much and I answered truthfully. “It’s a show completely devoted to encouragement. I love that.”

And I try to see as many of the nominated movies as I can. Call it a hobby, but I really love it.

So here is my annual review of the 10 nominated movies:

The King’s Speech – SEE IT – This is a wonderful film that tells a piece of history while demonstrating the power of having a voice. King George the sixth, played by Colin Firth, has a stuttering problem and is terrified of speaking in public. But as a King, he must speak. I loved this movie and so did my husband. The friendship between Colin Firth’s character and Geoffrey Rush’s character is the heart of this movie and it drives the action. This movie contains the F word but it is used comically – the King does not stutter when he cusses.

The Fighter – SEE IT ONCE – MAYBE RENT IT– This is a movie based on a real life story of two brothers and boxers who live in Lowell, Massachusetts. The story is what drew me to enjoy this film. And great acting. Christian Bale is a stand out as a crazy older brother addicted to crack. I wouldn’t see it again, but I LOVED the story.

Inception – SEE IT WITH A FRIEND– It’s on DVD – We bought it! Inception is a movie about dreams and dream travelling with others to unlock and plant secrets. Sounds confusing, right? Well, it can be but I found it wonderfully challenging. My son LOVED this movie and has seen it a few times. Each time, he notices something different. This is the kind of movie that causes a wonderful discussion afterward. See it with a friend so you can talk about it after.

The Social Network – RENT IT- I enjoyed this movie, simply because I enjoy Facebook. So, it was interesting to see the story behind the website. Of course, this movie is fiction, but much of it is based on truth. I loved West Wing and the writer Aaron Sorbin wrote this movie. He writes banter like no one else. His writing has a rhythm all its own. If you don’t like Facebook, skip this movie, but if you enjoy wonderful dialogue, check it out.

Toy Story 3 – SEE IT, BUY IT, and bring the tissues! I saw this movie by myself on a Monday afternoon. Only four other people were in the movie theatre with me and I’m glad of it. I bawled like a baby. WONDERFUL movie, complete with the entire Toy Story gang. If you are a parent, this movie will get to you. Unless of course, you are a heartless, unfeeling piece of wood.

True Grit – Rent it – My father was a huge John Wayne fan, so of course, I’ve seen the original True Grit more than once. I went in to the theatre with low expectations. Jeff Bridges did a good job, although at times it was as if he was doing an imitation of John Wayne. The girl who plays Matty was wonderful, as was the dialogue. Written formally with a pioneer kind of flare, the words struck me as original, even though much of it was exactly the same as the first movie. There are a couple of changes from the original, both of which I didn’t like that much.

Winter’s Bone – Rent it if you dare – I watched this movie on On Demand. It was a Sundance winner – a film, not a movie. Quiet, haunting and chilling. It’s set in the Ozarks and has a Deliverance feel to it. The hillbilly bad guys in this movie would make the Mafia think twice. But the story is really interesting. A 17 old girl tries to find her father who has disappeared because he put up their home for bail and if he doesn’t show up for court, they’ll lose their house. I really thought this was an interesting film, but walking a mile in the backwoods of the Ozarks kind of gave me the creeps. :0)

The Kids Are All Right – SKIP IT – I went to the theatre thinking the story line sounded intriguing. Lesbian couple’s kids find their father and drama ensues. What I discovered was a porno flick with snippets of story. During most of this movie my eyes were on my popcorn. I HATED IT. HATED IT. When I came out of the theatre, I went straight for the movie poster, thinking I had mistakenly went to a NC-17 movie. Nope, it was R. Wish I’d never gone.

127 Hours – Didn’t see it – Just can’t find the time to pay money to watch someone cut off their own arm. Maybe I’ll Netflix it though.

Black Swan – Didn’t see it – I heard so much about this movie that was negative. It’s a psychological dream-like film that explores a ballerina’s drive to perfection. There are some things I just can’t see spending money on. This is one of them.

A Joyvotion Valentine for You!

2011-02-13T13:42:00.000-08:00

A Joyvotion Valentine for You

“I have loved you with an everlasting love.” Jeremiah 31:3a

Last week was one of those weeks that were filled with the tiny spaces between tears and anguish. Lots of “poor me” time.

One night toward the end of the week, after Noah went to take a bath, John shut off the TV show we were watching and looked at me. “What’s up, Robbie?”

“Just a hard day. Hard week. I feel like I’m focusing on all that I haven’t done, instead of what I have accomplished. I’m down on myself.”

My husband grinned. “I have some wisdom for you that will work.”

I expected a great spiritual truth. “Okay.”

“A Jedi Master once said, ‘Be mindful of your thoughts and feelings. They determine your reality.’”

I giggled. “Seriously? Yoda?”

“Oh, no. I don’t quote Yoda. That was Obi Wan Kenobi’s master Qui-Gon Jinn.” He paused and added. “It’s kind of like ‘As a man thinketh so he is.’ ” (Proverbs 23:7)

The next half hour was a mixture of tears and laughter as I poured out what I’d been thinking and feeling. John listened and offered wisdom when he sensed I wanted some.

After, I wiped my eyes and smiled. “I feel better. You know why? Cause I got to share my heart with you.”

John’s next words moved me. “Your heart is safe with me, Robbie.”

This time of year our thoughts, manipulated at times by cheesy commercials, run toward buying Hallmark Cards or chocolate for the ones we love. Or, even better, receiving them. :0)

A symbol of the holiday is the heart. As we give each other cards covered with colorful hearts, we ask, “Will you be my Valentine?”

But this Valentine’s Day, I encourage you to guard your heart and give it away only to those that will nurture it. Find a safe place. This takes wisdom and risk. Because, let’s face it, there are many more unsafe places to put our hearts than safe.

No matter if you’re in a relationship or not, there is always one, for certain, never-unsafe place for your heart. In the hands of a God who adores you and sent His son Jesus to die for you. And your heart.

I am so blessed by John. He is the love of my life. But he is not perfect and he has dropped my heart before. As I have, his.

But God? Never.

This Valentine’s Day, I hope for you an experience that surpasses all the boxes of chocolate, long stem roses and “He got it at Jared’s” moments.

A choice to look up to Christ and say, “Here’s my heart, Lord.”

It will always be safe with Him.

(If you would like to receive bi-monthly Joyvotions from me, just email me at robbieiobst at hotmail dot com. )

What if I'm not WILLING to eat healthy?

2011-02-07T09:43:00.000-08:00

Some days I just want to eat. I'm not talking "eating to live" but "living to eat." Whether it be wanting to not feel pain or overeating out of a bad habit, some days I just want to eat.

I prowl around like a wolf looking for prey as I search out the frig or pantry. I sit and ponder where I want to go for lunch.
Again, hunger plays no part. Nutritional needs are not eve a passing concern.

I just want to eat.

On those days, the best tactic I can take in the battle of the bulge is a simple prayer. "God, make me willing to be willing."

I picked up this prayer in a 12 step group and though I don't attend that group anymore, I still use what I learned, including this prayer.

God is big enough to change our focus. He gently lifts our heads and causes us to look in a different way. But He never forces a change in attitude.

Ergo, this wonderful prayer. When I just want to eat, if I pray "God, make me willing to be willing," His Spirit gently nudges me away from my stubborn bondage to food and reminds me that there is another choice. I don't have to just eat.

I can receive the strength God offers and find myself willing to make healthy choices. HE causes me to be willing to be willing.

Try it. ~~This works.~~ He works.

The Sugar Question

2011-01-26T13:57:00.000-08:00

Being the professional dieter that I am, I have asked myself countless times the following question: "Should I cut out sugar all together?"

Once I answered yes and I didn't have sugar for six months. Unfortuneatly, I began a love affair with all of those sugar free products. The ones that make you go. And go. And go. I went back to sugar.

Once I answered yes and I didn't have sugar for three months. The last day was the day my husband was in a motorcycle accident. I ran back to sugar just for comfort.

One time I answered no and I told myself I would only eat sugar on the weekends. It worked until the first Monday after the first weekend. Sugar intake causes craving of sugar for me. So I had some. Then I told myself I'll only have sugar on the weekends and Monday. This worked until Tuesday. :0)

I think the sugar question is one that each of us have to answer for ourselves, depending on our own body chemistry and how sugar affects us. I ran across the following verse and it changed me. Forever. On the sugar question.

Everything is permissible (allowable and lawful) for me; but not all things are helpful (good for me to do, expedient and profitable when considered with other things). Everything is lawful for me, but I will not become the slave of anything or be brought under its power.
1 Corinthians 6:12 (Amplified Bible)

How I apply this when it comes to sugar, is that sugar is permissible but it is not helpful. But most importantly, I must not become a slave to sugar.

And believe me, I have been its slave.

So what do I do now? Well, not perfectly, of course, but I have adopted moderation. Too long I've lived with the all or nothing view of not only sugar but dieting. Either I am doing it perfectly or I will eat everything I can find. :0)

In my moderation, with my body type and chemistry and with how sugar affects me and my weight I TRY:

1) to never, ever eat sugar in the morning. Messes up my blood sugar for the rest of the day.
2) to not drink sugar. I occasionally have a glass or wine or a margherita, but only occasionally.
3) to not have desserts in the house. If they're here, I will eat them.
4) to split a dessert with someone if I'm at a restaurant.

I TRY. Not perfectly at all. But living imperfectly and getting rid of my all or nothing thinking is a huge goal of mine. Most of all when I feel that I MUST have sugar I know that I am being a slave to it and I PRAY and repeat 1 Corinthians 6:12 until the temptation leaves.

This is what I am TRYING to do when it comes to sugar. What about you?

He will fight for You - in the Grocery Store!

2011-01-18T10:48:00.000-08:00

"He shall say: 'Hear, Israel: Today you are going into battle against your enemies. Do not be fainthearted or afraid; do not panic or be terrified by them. For the LORD your God is the one who goes with you to fight for you against your enemies to give you victory. ' "

Deuteronomy 20:3-4

Yesterday I woke up thinking about brownies. I had to go to King Soopers so it would've been easy to grab a box and whip them up at home. Noah was home because of Martin Luther King Day so I could've used the "Well, it's a holiday" excuse. Justification #1457 It's amazing how I can make every day a holiday. :0)

For some folks, shopping for food is either a chore or a pleasure. For me, and many of you, it is a battle and the aisles with ice cream and cake mixes are battlefields with land mines. But I remembered, I'm not alone. I don't have to go into the grocery store by myself. God not only wants to go with us, but He wants to fight for us.

In Deuteronomy 20: 3-4 the name, the LORD your God, means the LORD my banner. When I go to pick up some food, it helps to acknowledge that I go under His banner with His protection. If I want it. Sometimes, I don't pray simply because I want what I want. Not proud of this. And I know if I take Him up on it, the Lord will fight for me and give me victory. But I have to ask Him, especially when it comes to food.

Try it. If you're tempted in a grocery store, use these words from Deuteronomy. Ask the LORD your God to fight for you. He will give you and I victory - even over brownies!!

First things First

2011-01-13T15:17:00.000-08:00

I have found in my own journey that the first thing I must do in order to take care of myself and lose weight is to….drum roll, please…

Sleep!!

Yep, sleep. Now you may think that sleep is something that sloths and lazy people relish. And you’re right. I know this. I also slept a lot when I dealt with depression. So it seems contradictory that in order to lose weight I must sleep.

But what I’m talking about is getting enough sleep, not too much. That amount is different for every person. And I’ve found it can change over the years, too. When I was in high school, I needed lots of sleep. When I went to college and as a young woman I only needed 4 -5 hours a night. During pregnancy, I slept often. This is important because after Noah was born I didn’t sleep for three months. :0)

But now, I need about 7 hours. If I don’t get it, two things happen.

1)I don’t want to exercise and

2)I want to eat more.

Studies have shown that folks eat more when they are tired. I’ve often equated getting more energy with getting a lot of food. (Not true by the way – good energy comes by way of the right kinds of foods, not a bunch of anything.)

Are you like me and enjoy late nights by yourself? I love the quiet of night when John and Noah are asleep. But this is detrimental to my ultimate goal – to take care of me. So instead of staying up until midnight or later, I have a goal of going to bed between ten and eleven. I get up between 6 and 6:30 each day, so this is perfect for me.

How do you handle getting enough rest? Does sleep affect your eating habits?

I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up!!

2011-01-12T13:02:00.000-08:00

“He reached down from on high and took hold of me and drew me out of deep waters. He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes, who were too strong for me. They confronted me in the day of my disaster, but the Lord was my support. He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delights in me.” Psalm 18:16-10

Yesterday I fell down in the snow. I slipped on ice and went flying through the air, landing on the side of my left hip. I landed hard and it jarred me. I’m fine now, but at that moment, it hurt something awful.

My first winter in Denver, four years ago, I fell three times. The next year, I fell once. Since I bought snow boots, I’ve never fallen. Until yesterday.

I hate falling. I feel embarrassed and klutzy. And it hurts.

Let me back up and tell you that during this last year of 2010, I lost 50 pounds. I’ve much more to lose, but this is a great start. Unfortunately, I fell off the “band wagon” during the last two weeks of December. I chose to celebrate with food, but I put no boundaries on it. What began with a little sugar here and there, ended with eating anything that wasn’t nailed down last weekend. Needless to say, I’ve now lost 40-something. :0)

My overeating was like falling down. Having no boundaries with my food caused my footing to be quite slippery and then I went flying through the air and landed on chocolate cake. And a coke. And some cookies. It hurt.

Yesterday when I fell, I was surprised because I had on my trusty snow boots. I was on the way to a friend’s house and when I got in the car, I felt the shock of hitting the cement. The phone rang and it was my friend Loretta. Of course, upon hearing her voice, I started crying. But not just about falling into snow, but also about falling from that wonderful place where I took care of myself. I bawled and said things like, “I just don’t like who I am right now, Loretta.”

Loretta, an angel in disguise I’m sure, said to me, “Well, maybe God made you fall down to get your attention.”

I cussed her out and hung up. :0)

Not really. We went on to talk about the process of getting back up. And that’s what is important here. We all fall down, be it in trying to discipline ourselves, or in trying to follow Christ or in trying to submit to our husbands or bosses. We fall. But if we allow Him, our wonderful God is there to extend a hand and pull us up.

This morning, I utilized a present I received at Christmas. I put on these things that wrap around your tennis shoes and give you cleats so when you walk, you don’t slip on the ice. The cleats grip the ground. At first I was skeptical, but then security came, and Scooby and I went hard, walking until both our tongues were hanging out.

I got up. He pulled me up. And He brought me out once again, into a “spacious place.” A place where I can once again live in freedom and make choices that honor Him and me.

He delights in you. I hope you know that. And if you’ve fallen down, look up. His hand is waiting.

A New Season....hmmmm...

2011-01-05T21:28:00.000-08:00

God is doing a new thing in me....hmmmm....I'll start blogging about it next Tuesday! :0)

"See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland."

Isaiah 43:19

It's Not a Bag of Snakes - Part 9, the final chapter, of "In His Arms"

2010-12-29T15:15:00.000-08:00

Part 9 – It’s Not a Bag of Snakes

Just before the accident, I remember having a conversation with John about how blessed our life was.

“Our life is wonderful, John. I somehow feel like we are bound to have something bad happen soon.”

My wise husband responded. “God’s got us. He doesn’t give out bags of snakes.”

He was referring to Matthew 7:9-11:

“Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!”

Throughout the ordeal of John’s accident and recovery, I often reminded myself that our situation was NOT a bag of snakes. It was a gift. A gift that came in the shape of a trial. For me, I believe it was a test of my courage.

When Noah was six, I began a conscious effort to fight the fear that lie beneath every motivation and action. I sought counseling, I put on my armor and began a spiritual battle like nothing I’d ever done, and I began practicing courage.

Three years later, on December 28th, I took an exam. More like an internship really. A chance to live out the courage that I practiced.

Just two weeks ago, John told me, “You know Robbie, you’re fearless. It is simply amazing how much you’ve changed over the past few years.”

Fearless? Me?

I smile thinking of that. It is a 180 degree from where I used to live. Scared of everything, especially the future. Scared of death. Scared of really living like I wanted to. Scared that someone would declare me unworthy of living abundantly because of my weight. Scared I’d never be able to lose weight. Scared that I would never get over being scared.

My internship in living a courageous existence in the face of great fear, lasted a year, long after John went back to work full time. I found myself drained and empty. I fell into a depression. I found out that when someone tightens up their insides in order to stay calm for a duration, eventually the insides will exhale. And it will hurt.

In some ways, those days were more difficult for me than when John was in the hospital. I ate everything I could to not feel that mysterious pain. I didn’t take care of myself properly and my health took a downward turn. I made plenty of mistakes.

But I wasn’t living in a bag of snakes. I couldn’t see the good that would come, but God did.

Isaiah 41:10 became a staple for me to recite every day during John’s recovery and my own.

“Fear not, for I am with you. Be not dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you, yes I will help you. I will hold you in My righteous right hand.”

At times it felt as if John’s hospitalization would never end. And then it felt like he would never get to go back to work. And then it felt as if I would never be myself again. But I wasn’t sitting in a bag of snakes. I was smack dab in the middle of His Righteous Right Hand.

So was John. So was Noah.

I have chosen to take risks the last couple of years that I wouldn’t have taken before. It’s just a matter of choosing to believe God and His Word and to not believe the world. Easier said than done. John’s ministry, dealing with men and sexual integrity issues, has thrived and John has become this warrior and Godly man who I love more than ever before. Because of the accident, we have practiced believing God.

I still don’t know why it happened. Did God cause John to be thrown from the bike? Did God simply allow circumstances to happen? I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter.

What matters is that pre-accident, during the accident and post-accident, God never changed. He loved us through it all.

We were then and we are now IN HIS ARMS.

Glory be to God for the things He has done!

Home and Healing - Part 8 of "In His Arms"

2010-12-24T11:03:00.000-08:00

Part 8 – Home and Healing

The day John came home, almost a month after he’d left for a motorcycle ride, was a day of rejoicing…mostly. I was also scared to death. No doctors, no nurses. Just me to look after my man.

During the next few weeks, I changed his dressing on his icky leg wound, I made sure he took his myriad of pills, I took him to his outpatient rehab and I drove him to the doctor each and every morning to have his blood checked because of the blood thinner medication he was on.

We both believed God was in control, but it was a constant battle to rise above circumstances and keep a positive attitude. Doctor Doom was the one who checked his blood every day. (That’s not his real name.) Maybe he was having trouble in his marriage or maybe he was dealing with painful hemorrhoids, but he never, ever encouraged us. In fact, one day John and I went to his office feeling great. John’s numbers showed that his blood was too thin and Dr. Doom told John to be very, very careful because one tiny little wound could land him back in the hospital fighting for his life. No kidding. We went back to the car and sat there, shell shocked. It wasn’t a coincidence that my brother Phil texted us at that moment. He said something like “Don’t let the medical community dictate your future – God knows more than any doctor!”

We sat in the parking lot and prayed and cried and told God we leaned on Him, not Dr. Doom.

Although I did my best to change the leg wound dressing correctly, the wound got infected and all black. The day I changed it and smelled something gross, I ushered John into the car and we went to Dr. Doom who hemmed and hawed and then sent us to a wound specialist.

In one of the appointments to see the wound doctore, he used a huge needle to suck out 10 ccs of John’s blood clot under the wound. I’ve never seen John in such horrific pain. Right after, a nurse using a monotone voice asked, “Was your pain sharp, dull or throbbing?”

John and I glanced at each other and burst out laughing.

He replied through tears, “How about screaming like a little girl?”

John had to have leg surgery in March which brought more drugs and more recovery. After the surgery, the Wound Vac was introduced to us and we fell in love with this miracle device that brought healing quickly. The first time we were to use it, some home health care nurses with southern accents came to the house to show us. They didn’t seem to be experts at it.

I asked them if they’d ever hooked up a wound vac before. Silence. Then one said, “Not many.” She picked up the user’s manual and began reading.

Once again John and I exchanged glances. Two guttural noises arose. And then we laughed. About the time we quieted down, one of the nurses in an Alabama accent casually said, “Boy, they sure do have a lot of gadgets in this.”

After three hours and two tries, they succeeded.

One step forward, two steps back.

One of the leaps forward took place in February. We were just hanging out at the house and John was doing some puzzles that his outpatient cognitive therapist wanted him to work on. Remember, when he was in the hospital it took him an hour to finish one of these and even then he often got something wrong.

John finished his puzzles and said, “Robbie, come check this.”

I looked through the two puzzles and announced, “You got them all correct.”

My husband looked at me with a strange look and then smiled. “Guess how long it took me to do both of those.”

“I have no idea, honey.”

“Five minutes.”

The cognitive therapist had initially told John he would work with her 3 times a week for 6-8 weeks. After 2 weeks, John was deemed fine to go back to work part time.

God heals. Not always, but in John’s situation God said, YES.”

John’s accident was on December 28th.
He came home from rehab on January 22nd.

God healed his brain (at least we saw healing through the puzzles) on February 9th.

John went back to work part time on February 17th. We were in His arms.

John’s leg surgery was on March 4th – two more days in the hospital.

John went back to work full time on April 8th.

And through it all, every moment of uncertainty, pain, fear, joy and relief - we were IN HIS ARMS!

All glory to God for His healing and His mercy on our family!

(Come back, Tuesday, December 28th, the 2nd year anniversary of his accident with my final post in this series – “It’s Not a Bag of Snakes.”)

A Whole New Kind of Pain: Rehab - Part 7 of "In His Arms"

2010-12-22T20:05:00.000-08:00

Part 7 – A Whole New Kind of Pain: Rehab

After nine days in the ICU, John was transported by ambulance to Swedish Hospital in Denver for what they thought would be five days. John was there 19 days.

During that time, four challenges to recovery became obvious.

First was John’s pain level. As John woke up more and more, he felt every ache. The pain was excruciating at times. Because of that pain, John didn’t move as much as he was asked to move. And ergo, a pulmonary embolism or blood clot, developed in his lungs. This added many days to his stay in rehab and proved to be a complication he would have to deal with for the next six months.

Next, we quickly realized that John’s brain injury had caused memory loss. He had no memory of the accident at all and he couldn’t remember a list of three words for more than a half an hour. Deductive puzzles that John would normally finish quickly took him an hour to finish. And even then, he didn’t always get everything correct. Cognitive therapy proved to be extremely frustrating for John. At one point he told me, “You know, I’m used to being one of the smartest people in the room. Now…well, it’s obvious I’m not. Are they going to let me come back to work again? Will they put up with me?”

The third obvious effect of the crash was the personality change. John got angry very quickly. He cussed and ranted often. He noticed this change and at one time told me that he had lost “the ability to show grace.” This third challenge was the one that unnerved me the most. My usually gentle husband called everyone who worked in the hospital, “Crackheads.” He complained non-stop about everything. And he treated me at times, horribly.

Lastly, his leg developed an infection. When John was first placed in ICU, he had a bad bruise on his left calf, but it was one of the last priorities for the doctors. During rehab, we noticed it had scabbed over and then started to turn black. Wound specialists were called in and did their thing. Two months after John left rehab, this wound would become infected and demand surgery.

I hated every moment John spent in rehab. It wasn’t like ICU was a party, but the tyranny of the urgent prevailed. In my shock of “What just happened?” my responses and emotions were at a level of high adrenaline. Always. In ICU, John got constant care from the nurses. In rehab, he was expected to do a lot for himself. It was like going from a four star hotel to a Motel Six.

In rehab, John and I both realized this was going to be a long road. Adrenaline left and a committnment to the drudgery of recovery began. One step forward, two steps back. Over and over.

However, since I am married to a man with a wonderful sense of humor, there were some great moments. Our main doctor was a Russian woman, who spoke with a thick accent and sounded as if she smoked four packs a day. Think Tevye from "Fiddler on the Roof" was a smoker's hack. She was often comic relief for us when she left the room. John's physical and cognitive therapists found my husband charming and funny. Developing relationships with these two ladies was a blessing.

Folks visited John often and sometimes they would leave and he would ask me “Who was that?” He honestly didn’t remember. At one point, John asked if we could put a sign on the door – “Traumatic Brain Injury Patient – Please introduce yourself.”

Although he was dealing with a blood clot that caused pain in his chest, some guy friends visited a couple of times and made John cry with laughter. I left the room when they came, knowing John was in good hands and also because I was scared that the laughter might cause some kind of rupture. :0)

God’s infinite grace became apparent to John and I while he was in rehab and we had some wonderful talks about how blessed we were. Not just because John was alive, but because of the presence of God so powerfully palpable in our lives. And John, who was already in this process of becoming a aggressive warrior-man for Christ, continued in his resolve that fear had no place in living for God.

In fact, one day after we talked about the concept of safety and motorcycle riding, John said the following. I thought this was so wonderful, coming from a man who almost lost his life, that I wrote it down verbatim.

“There is a faulty theology out there that minimizing risk is the only thing that honors me, others and God…There is nothing wrong with being safe. Safety takes work. Dozens of times every minute, you assess risk. To be safe is to effectively analyze and manage that risk…But Careful? Careful is a terrible way to live. Careful is to try to control and eliminate risks. People who try to live careful think they have the ability to manage their own lives. Careful people will be disappointed and eventually surprised. They might even end up blaming God. I don’t mind trying to be safe. But I never want to live a ‘careful’ life.”

(Come back Friday, December 24th for Part 8 "Home and Healing."

The Family of God During a Trial - Part 6 of "In His Arms"

2010-12-20T18:24:00.000-08:00

Part 6 – The Family of God during a Trial

Just a couple of hours after I’d learned about John’s accident, I sat in an ICU waiting room with my brother Phil. We were going to see John for the first time in just a few minutes.

In walked Kay Day. I burst out crying as soon as I saw her. I stood and hugged her.

“You didn’t have to come.” I sobbed.

“Of course I did.” She replied.

Kay, as a former nurse, was invaluable to me to interpret medical jargon. She came back to the hospital many times in the next few days to just hang out with me or take me to lunch, despite her forty-five minute drive one way to reach me.

Kay is not only one of my best friends, she is also my sister in Christ. She, like many other folks in my family of followers of Jesus, came through for John and me over and over during those three months at the beginning of 2007.

I’ll never be able to repay all the countless kindnesses during that time. I’m not supposed to either. What I am called to do is look around for others who might need a kindness. Then, without hesitation, lend a hand.

At one point while John was in the ICU, my friend Jan wrote about me on her blog asking people to pray for me, in essence hold up my arms as Aaron and Hur had held up Moses’s during a battle. The same day my friend Michele called me and told me she was praying – she was holding up my arms. I said, “You read Jan’s blog?” She said, “No, why?” That night, my sister-in-law Kasey called me and said, “Robbie you don’t have to be the strongest person in the room. So many people are praying for you. They’re holding up your arms.” She doesn’t know Jan or Michele.

My family of God held up my arms and John’s arms and got us through.

I wrote an email update during those days about some of the kindnesses. I feel the best way to tell the story of the love for us during that horrible time is to just repeat what I wrote then.

• Someone loaned me a phone to call Colorado Highway Patrol when I got message on answering machine. (Our phones didn’t work!)

• Someone prayed with me immediately following that moment I received the news. That someone turned my focus toward God in the moment of my greatest fear.

• Someone stayed on the phone with me on the way to the hospital and prayed for me most of the way.

• Someone met me at the hospital and loved me. Purely with the love of Jesus.

• Someone surprised me at the hospital and stood beside me as I listened to the doctors. When all I heard was Waa, Waa, Waa John, she interpreted the medical terms.

• Someone called John’s boss and let his work know what happened.

• Someone sent me an email of support and encouragement. (There were MANY)

• Someone prayed that my beloved would be healed. (MANY!)

• Someone gave me strength on the phone. (MANY)

• Someone took care of my precious son when I had to be at the hospital.

• Someone told me about the John Zay house, a place I could stay for free, just across the street from the hospital.

• Someone laid his hand on John’s head and prayed for my husband, thanking God that John was a WARRIOR who would fight through this.

• Someone bought me dinner. Someone bought me lunch. Someone bought me dinner. Someone bought me lunch. Someone bought me…(You get the picture)

• Someone (a nurse) comforted me while John lay asleep on a ventilator.

• Someone (a nurse) told me that the hospital took in two other motorcycle accidents last Sunday. One died and one is in a coma with a severe, severe brain injury.

• Someone encouraged me to look to God and not the medical personnel.

• Someone encouraged me to peruse the traumatic brain injury pamphlets, lightly, and then put them AWAY.

• Someone visited me in the hospital with a goodie bag.

• Someone visited me and prayed with me and hugged me while I cried.

• Someone visited me and gave me gifts, including an envelope full of change for the vending machines.

• Someone visited me and asked what I needed. When I told them, they searched Colorado Springs for a Barnes and Noble and got me the exact book I wanted.

• Someone organized a play date for Noah and five of his friends.

• Someone drove my son up to see his Daddy.

• Someone emailed a friend who lived in Colorado Springs to pray for John and asked her to visit me.

• Someone, a woman I’d never met, and now a friend, visited me in the hospital.

• Someone encouraged me to go home and take care of myself for a while.

• Someone invited me to drink champagne with them for just a minute on New Years Eve, then prayed for John and toasted his healing.

• Someone took care of Scooby, my dog.

• Someone went with me to see John’s beat up motorcycle.

• Someone called me New Years Eve at 11:30 p.m waking me up. It turned out to be an incredible blessing as we talked and laughed and rang in the New Year together on the phone.

• Someone came to the hospital and made me laugh and laugh.

• Someone took initiative to get the paperwork for John’s time off and short term disability all fixed up.

• Someone brought me work papers to sign to start John’s short term disability at work.

• Someone used twitter and facebook to encourage me. (MANY)

• Someone organized a girls night out for me.

• Someone (5 beautiful women) drove to Colorado Springs and took me out for a girls night out.

• Someone offered to go pick up John’s mom.

• Someone picked up John’s mom from the airport and drove her to the hospital in a semi-blizzard.

• Someone went to my home to get my cell phone charger. (I left it there)

• Someone offered to buy me a new cell phone charger.

• Someone brought me and Noah gifts.

• Someone took my son to see a Nuggets game.

• Someone listened. And listened. And listened to me pour out my heart.

• Someone offered wisdom when I needed it.

• Someone rejoiced with me through emails and phone calls when John started to wake up, a little at a time. (MANY)

• Someone offered to pick up Noah from school next week and keep him until I get home. (Several neighborhood moms)

• Someone showed me that in a crisis, the family of God shows up to help. (MANY)

I’ll never be the same after being dipped, soaked and immersed in the love of God through my brothers and sisters.

(Come back Wednesday, December 22nd for Part 7 –"A whole new kind of pain – Rehab")

God Works in Mysterious Ways - Part 5 of "In His Arms"

2010-12-17T08:39:00.000-08:00

Our family while John was in Rehab - Me, JoJo, Marriah,

Sarah, Hannah, Noah and John

Part 5 – God Works in Mysterious Ways

It’s been almost two years since John’s accident and as I look back I still don’t see exactly why it all happened. I think it’s human nature to ask “Why?” But as a Christian, I am called to also relinquish the need to understand God’s ways. At the same time, we Christians often feel it’s our duty to list the exact lessons we’ve learned through trials in order to figure out why God allows circumstances. That can be beautiful, but it also can be a subtle way to try to control.

So I look back and I can’t make a list of the many lessons God taught us, simply because He is still using that time to teach.

However, one mighty miracle began during that time. The miracle of healing a family’s bond.

JoJo, my mother-in-law, came to be with John a week after the accident. Seeing her was such a joy to me and Noah. She brought strength and practical wisdom. Having her sit at John’s bedside was comfort. John said his first understandable word to JoJo. On one of her calls on day 4, I held the phone up to John’s ear and he listened and said the word “Hi.” A mother’s voice is a powerful tool.

So it was a joy to see her. A partner in helping her son and my husband to heal.

And then, John’s three daughters called and said that they were coming on Monday, day 8. John and his daughters have had a rocky relationship for years. Up and down and sideways. Good moments and bad moments.

When I heard they were coming, my first reaction was fear. I’m not proud of that, but it’s true. I was scared that as they visited John, awkwardness would interrupt John’s healing. I was SO wrong. Hannah, Sarah and Marriah came with hearts full of love and forgiveness. They just wanted to love on their dad.

While they were here, I had time to watch them and appreciate the goodness and individualism in each of them. The way they looked at their dad was so touching. And while they were here, he began to make huge strides in healing. JoJo came on Sunday and the girls came on Monday. On Tuesday, John was moved to a rehab hospital. A nurse pulled me aside before we left the ICU.

“Robbie, I just want you to know that it is incredibly rare for someone to go from ICU to rehab. Usually there are weeks of recovery in a regular room and then rehab. This is amazing.”

God is the one that heals. Did He use John's mom and daughters? I say yes.

While John was in rehab, the girls’ presence brought delight to my husband. The awkwardness of years of a rocky relationship did not vanquish, but seeds of healing were planted in everyone.

Before they came, their mother Annie, John’s ex-wife wrote me a long email full of love and prayers for John and Noah and me. I didn’t know what to do with it, because as is the case in many current and ex-wives’ relationships, we were not friends.

My sister-in-law advised me to write her back and be civil. I did, but I was terse and distant.

Fast forward a bit. After John recovered, we made a plan to bring JoJo, her sister Nanny and the girls to Denver in October for JoJo’s 70th birthday. We had a great time. More healing. More joy.

At the time, it was mentioned that Annie and her current husband might come. She was of course, close to JoJo. I said unequivocally NO. A decision out of fear.

A few months ago I was in a hotel room having a WAAWG – Weekend Almost Alone With God. I was walking around praying and God brought up my lovely stepdaughters. I asked Him, “How do I love them, God?” As clear as a bell, I heard the Lord in my heart say, “By loving their mother.”

I emailed Annie and thanked her for the long email of love I’d received a year and a half prior. I asked for forgiveness for being so curt and distant in my reply. I apologized for not inviting Annie and her husband to JoJo’s 70th birthday party. Her response was full of grace and wisdom. I cried at what God was doing in our family. I emailed back and mentioned wouldn’t it be wonderful if someday we all got together as a family. She responded with “Yes!”

I asked her to be my facebook friend and slowly we’ve forged a relationship. John likes this, but thinks it’s a little weird. :0)

AND THEN, Sarah, my middle stepdaughter told us she is pregnant. I will be a Grandma next summer! Woo Hoo! That means that of course, we will be visiting them in California more than once in the coming months. Sarah and her betrothed Erik, will visit us in January.

On Thanksgiving, we called and John and I both talked to each of the girls and we ended the call with me having a long conversation with Annie.

THIS is a miracle! This is healing! It’s far from perfect. No family is, but God used a horrible motorcycle accident to start the process of restoration and healing. I am moved even to tears as I write this, because of my sincere awe at the goodness of God.

There is an overused cliché. I’m a writer so I’m not supposed to use this. But I will now because it fits perfectly:

GOD WORKS IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS.

(Come back Monday for Part 6 – "The Family of God during a Trial")

Noah and his Dad - Part 4 of "In His Arms"

2010-12-15T09:32:00.000-08:00

Part 4 – Noah and his Dad

I made some mistakes in the way I handled John’s accident and recovery, but none larger than the one I made with my son Noah. I completely underestimated how this would affect him.

When I first told him the news and that he was going to stay with his aunt, uncle and cousin Hunter, he simply said, “Okay,” and then he packed his bag. This all happened on December 28th, three days after Christmas. Noah had received a Nintendo, his first hand held video game, and he was consumed with the joy of it. So I considered it a blessing for him to have this distraction.

I talked to Noah that night on the phone and once again I sensed no emotions. He asked how John was doing and I told him he was sedated. Noah’s response: “Well, at least he’s sleeping.”

My first clue that the accident really affected Noah was the first time I allowed him to see John. It was day 4 and John had ripped out his ventilator earlier that day. I didn’t want Noah to see his dad with that thing on his face because it made John look like a horribly sick Darth Vader.

I tried to prepare Noah for how John would look and act. I told him about all the machines and wires and that John had restraints on because his brain was making him angry and so he wanted to get out of bed but shouldn’t. I also told him his dad would probably sleep through Noah’s visit.

Noah went in the room and stood beside John, who was sleeping. Noah simply said, “Hi Dad.”

John’s crazy eyes opened and looked at Noah. Then John lifted his hands which were in restraints and said to his son, “Help. Help.” His throat was still affected by the intubation causing his voice to be gravelly and deep.

I told John, “Honey, you’re okay.” And he went right back to sleep.

Noah stood there looking at John in shock. I told him that it was so good that Daddy recognized his son’s voice. This was a good thing. Noah said nothing and I asked him if he wanted to leave.

He said, Yes,” and walked out. Once we were in the hospital hallway, Noah burst into tears. I told him he was very brave. He kept bawling. I told him I would like to know what he was feeling so I would guess and he could just nod yes or no.

“Are you scared?” He shook his head no.

“Are you angry?” He shook his head no.

For some reason I thought if I joked, it would help. “Are you happy?” He nodded yes.

I thought for a moment and asked him, “Noah, did you think Daddy was dead?” He said “Yes.”

I had no idea. I hugged my boy like I never had before. We talked a little after that from time to time because I wanted to make sure he was okay. But how could he be?

Soon, Noah went back to school. And though he didn’t miss one day, his grades plummeted. And it took the rest of fourth grade to get his feet back under him at school.

It was after all this happened that I realized my son felt so much more than I ever imagined. I regret with all my heart not trying to do something more for him. Even now, I don’t know exactly what that would be, but I’m sure there was something. I was so wrapped up in John and myself that Noah came a distant third.

In time, he recovered like John and I did. But now I know that a child’s heart is deep and fully capable of being hurt deeply, even when there are no outward signs.

I wrote a story for Chicken Soup for the Soul about Noah’s moment seeing his dad in the hospital. In it, I emphasized that Noah had taught me gratitude. I’d only been thinking about the future while he was grateful his dad was alive. When I found out the story was going to be published I read it to John and Noah for approval. They both cried. Tears are a part of healing.

And then Noah said, “So how much money do I get for that story?” :0)

(Come back Friday, December 17th for Part 5 - "God Works in Mysterious Ways")

Traumatic Brain Injury, Traumatic Heart Injury - Part 3 of "In His Arms"

2010-12-13T08:13:00.000-08:00

Part 3 – Traumatic Brain Injury, Traumatic Heart Injury

The first three days in the hospital went in slow motion for me. I walked through antiseptic jello, trying to comprehend what each doctor and nurse said. I think the moment that jarred me into reality was the moment on the second night that our nurse gave me some pamphlets entitled “Traumatic Brain Injuries.”

She gave me a look of pity and said, “It’s important to prepare yourself, Robbie.”

Lory stood beside me as this happened. When the nurse left, Lory suggested I look through them briefly and then put them away.

I now know that many folks who suffer a severe traumatic brain injury are changed forever. Their personality is different and depending on the person and the circumstances, life is never the same.

I saw a changed John the first few days in the ICU. When he did wake up for a couple of seconds at a time, he would often be angry and try to get up and pull out wires. His eyes were wild and crazed, like someone other than my husband. The doctors decided to put him in restraints. It was heart breaking to see him restrained in his bed like he was in some looney bin. But I understood. The man in that bed wanted to escape and in the process, possibly hurt himself or someone else.

Two moments gave me hope. The first one happened on day four when John was still on the ventilator. I was told they were going to extubate him that morning but after the rounds, the doctors decided he just wasn’t ready. Exhaustion, stress and disappointment exploded in me and I lost it. I left the hospital to have lunch with my friend Kay who often came and visited me.

When I came back, John was in his bed with no ventilator. I asked what happened, and a very upset nurse told me John had ripped out the ventilator. He extubated himself which is very dangerous. I laughed. The nurse told me again that he was lucky to be alive and he shouldn’t have done it. I laughed louder. To me, this was a sure sign that my warrior husband was still in there, craving his independence. He knew he didn’t need the ventilator and he was right. When I asked the nurse how he managed to do this while he was restrained she simply said, “I have no idea.”

She left the room as I howled in laughter.

The other moment that brought me hope and joy was on day eight. The night before, John's mother JoJo and I were discussing John’s progress. I told her that when John woke up he was either really angry or really funny. I told her I was praying that John would wake up as a gentle John.
The one that would look at me and smile and say “Hi sweetie” and melt my heart.

On day eight, JoJo and I walked up to John’s bed and said “Good morning, John.” He opened his eyes, smiled at me and said “Hi sweetie.” And then he went back to sleep. God answered my prayer.

I doubled over, crying. Hope for normalcy when abnormal circumstances prevail is a tremendous emotion.

As John was dealing with his severe traumatic brain injury, I was dealing with my own trauma. Was I going to have to get a job and support us? Was John going to be a different person? What did our future look like? These thoughts bombarded me.

But trauma came in another way, too. Have you ever been rear-ended in a car? I have and it feels jarring. After the hit, you think practically. Where is the insurance card? Do I need to call someone? Is everyone okay in their car?

Later on, the shock of the rear-ending descends and it’s as if your entire body starts reverberating with that one moment you endured.

My heart trauma worked that way. At first I was emotional, but extremely practical, thinking about what needed to be done. The reverberation of John’s accident would begin in me, months later in May, and it would take a little over a year for me to recover. (More about that later.)

Come back Wednesday when I share “Noah and his Dad.”

Part 2 of "In His Arms"

2010-12-09T13:05:00.000-08:00

John's bike after the Crash

Part 2 - "The Battle"

“Help John, Lord. Help me.”

This was my gut prayer as I listened to the Colorado Highway Patrol’s message about John’s accident. The officer didn’t know the extent of the injuries but he knew it was serious. I called the hospital and the trauma surgeon told me that John suffered a traumatic brain injury. He didn’t think it was life threatening, but surgery might be required depending if bleeding on the brain stopped or not.

Following Jesus requires practice. Since I’d practiced leaning on God so many times, calling out to Him was the natural step to take.

After I talked to the trauma surgeon I called Lory and Phil, my sis-in-law and brother. Before making a plan in which Lory would take Noah, she prayed for John and me over the phone. I told Noah and we packed overnight bags and then I did what I’d practiced. I chose to get help from my Christian brothers and sisters. I emailed several prayer warriors and asked them to pray. As I drove the hour to a Colorado Springs hospital, (John’s accident was near there) my sister Karen prayed for me over the phone.

When I arrived at the hospital, Phil was there. Ironically, he’d been driving his motorcycle near Colorado Springs also, separately from John. We went in to see John together. All sorts of wires were connected to him. He was completely asleep, under heavy sedation, due to his extremely high agitation that is often a symptom or result of a traumatic brain injury.

I’ll never forget watching my older brother put his hand on John’s forehead and pray, “Lord this is Your son and this man is a warrior. Help him fight through this battle.”

And a battle it was.

I don’t know why God does what He does. But I believe with all my heart that he is in ultimate control of all. I prayed fervently, desperately for my mother to be healed of lung cancer. God said no. But in his mercy and grace, God would come to heal John. In the meantime, saints across the country battled for my husband in prayer. Our prayer request was passed on to friends and churches. People I’ve never met prayed for John. Fellow soldiers in Christ and good friends came to the hospital, prayed over John and read Scripture.

Encouraged by my fantastic 6 syblings, I walked around John’s hospital bed praying and reading Scripture. Although all I saw was John lying on a bed, unmoving, I knew that unseen forces on both sides were at work.

Without a doubt, I know God heard all those prayers and said Yes. Why He said yes and not no, I’ll never know.

But He did tell me something about two months after it had happened.

Let me tell you first that as a family we have a habit that we pray every time we hear a siren be it an ambulance, police or fire. When Noah was little he would pray “God help the wheels on the fire truck be okay. “ :0)

So two months after John’s accident I was sitting quietly and praying. And God’s voice inside my heart told me that when the ambulance was coming for John, someone saw it and prayed for him. When he was being rushed to the emergency room, someone heard the siren or saw the ambulance and prayed.

Before I ever knew anything had happened, God sent prayer warriors to begin battling for my man. And then the Lord told me that some day in heaven, I will meet those folks.

And just like I would tell someone in the military today, I will thank those prayer warriors for their service to God and my family.

Come back Monday, December 13th, for Part 3 – “Traumatic Brain Injury, Traumatic Heart Injury.”

Part 1 of a 9 part series - "In His Arms"

2010-12-08T10:51:00.000-08:00

A picture of Noah and John before Christmas - December 2008

Today I begin a 9 part Series, telling moments from a period of time, December 28th, 2008 to the end of March, 2009. It’s been two years since John skidded on “freeway kitty litter” (the gravel like substance placed on freeways in winter Colorado) hit the guardrail with his motorcycle, flew off and over the guardrail and smashed his head on the cold icy embankment. For a long time I haven’t been able to write about this, but now I feel the freedom. My purpose? To tell a great story and give all the glory to God, who carried us through a difficult, difficult time.

Part 1 - "Oblivious"

When I think back to December 28th, two years ago, the first thought I always have is “Why didn’t I feel something when it happened?”

I’ve heard of twins feeling each other’s pain even when they are apart. I’ve read stories of moms who know when something is wrong with their child, even when they aren’t in the same place. But the moment when John had his accident I felt nothing. I was putting up Christmas decorations at home while Noah played outside with a couple of friends. I had no moment of pause or an inkling that something was up. I was happy and busy with my task.

Then 2 o’clock came. The Broncos/Chargers football game was starting. No John. This is when I started wondering why he wasn’t home. He’d left at 10 a.m. after I urged him to take a ride. “It’s probably the last 50 degree day in a while, honey. Go.” I wanted to have an empty house to take down the decorations. He reluctantly went to his room but came out ready and excited to go, dressed as usual like Neil Armstrong. My husband believes in safety and he wore armored gear, a helmet, special pants and riding boots. Enough to protect him from most any accident. Most. He left me saying he’d be back by the game.

I told him, “Ride like the wind.”

So at 2:05 I hit record on the remote, thinking he would want to see the entirety of the game when he got home. I checked my cell phone. It wasn’t working. I decided to go into our bedroom and check the answering machine, the one we hardly ever listen to and the one we can’t hear unless we are in our bedroom.

One message. I hit play and my life changed in an instant.

My husband had left for a four hour motorcycle ride. He would come home 28 days later.

When Noah was little, occasionally he would bump into something or fall down. Our instinct, as parents, was to go to our son and pick him up and hold him. Maybe even carry him for a while.

In that moment that John went down, in the same moment that I was oblivious to my world changing, God picked up John and Noah and I and began to carry us.

Come back tomorrow for Part 2 - "The Battle"

It's Time to Declare our Independence from Martha Stewart!

2010-12-03T08:33:00.000-08:00

(I wrote this a couple of years ago, but I reread it each year and declare my independence each December!)

Martha Stewart is not from this planet!

Well, she’s not. I don’t ever watch Martha Stewart’s TV show. I don’t ever read her magazine. I pretty much ignore her. I mean, why read an alien’s how-to book?

But this time of year, every year, I feel the need to buy her Christmas issue. Something in me, and it ain’t the Christmas Spirit, my friend, possesses me with this insane hope. This fantasy that this year, yes this year, I will transform my simple condo into a holiday spa, complete with Jesus Jingle Bells made from sea shells, ribbon and walnuts to a simple centerpiece made of twine, cranberries, candles, garland and a glue gun.

The fantasy is intricate. I see myself opening my front door greeting guests wearing the dress Rosemary Clooney wore in the final scene of "White Christmas". It is a floor length velvet red dress with white fur trimmings. I look spectacular and seasonal. My teeth are extra white just from the glow of Christmas joy, ready and waiting with a smile that brings good tidings to even the grumpiest of souls. Guests may enter glumly or stressed, but one moment in my Christmas kingdom brings sighs of relief and happiness.

The oohs and aahs begin.

Then questions:

“Oh, Robbie, how did you ever make that?”

“Is that your homemade plum pudding I smell?”

“How did you manage to cut down such a tall and perfectly symmetrical tree?”

The flattery pours forth soon after.

“Robbie, your decorations…well…they aren’t gaudy or too simplistic…they’re exquisite.”

“I have never smelled such a perfect blend of potpourri in my life.”

“Robbie, I need to get saved again right now. Just because of your home.”

Like a reoccurring nightmare, the same scene unfolds in my mind every year.

And every year, the reality is a just a teensy bit different.

I open the door wearing whatever will fit me after the Thanksgiving season. Usually a baggy sweater and pants with an elastic band.

My teeth are accented not by their brightness, but my ever present gap, a gift from dear old Mom. Guests who enter my home glum or stressed are encouraged with “Lighten up. You’re having free food.”

Questions come.

“Robbie, is there any room to put my coat down?”

“Have you tried Resolve Carpet Cleaner?”

“Can you make your dog stop humping my leg?”

And the comments follow:

“Robbie, I love the dollar store, too.”

“Your home makes me grateful to God for mine.”

“I think something is burning.”

Okay, maybe it’s not that bad. But it sure isn’t like the fantasy. So every January as I pack up the decorations and breathe in the peaceful air, sadness and a little depression gets mixed in.

I know why, too. It’s Martha. And all the other Marthas of the world who offer up 5 Ways to make your House smell like a Good Memory and 8 Simple Dessert Recipes and 7 Easy to do Christmas Crafts.

THEY LIE!

Maybe not for everyone. My sister Karen is an exception. Give her a bobby pin, some scrap cloth, a couple of pecans and some dried cherries and she comes up with a three-foot beautiful wreath everyone thinks was bought from Michaels. She is the MacGyver of crafts.

But not me. Give me the same materials and ask me to make something and I will brainstorm for five minutes and then run away screaming.

So, what to do?

This is the year, my friends. This is the year I claim my independence from that part of society that lies to me and tells me I must make my home a holiday retreat in order to enjoy celebrating my Saviour's birth. I am now independent of Martha Stewart, Rachel Ray, (30 minute meals? Yeah, if you have a sous chef in your refrigerator!) Good Housekeeping and all the rest of them that tells me I can do it.

To twist an Obama phrase, “No I Can’t!”

And I am fine with that! I think I can still say Happy Birthday to Jesus without firing up my own manger scene at a ceramic store. I can still give gifts that say I love you without learning to knit in two weeks or creating a fabulous scrapbook in a month (each night staying up until 3 a.m.) I can still entertain my friends and let them know they are special to me. In fact, my party plan this year does not involve homemade centerpieces and three course meals.

My plan? Enjoy the people I love and serve whatever is on sale at King Soopers!

Aaahhh…I feel good.

And may God bless us, everyone.

Top Twelve Reasons to Buy a 2011 Names of God Calendar as a Christmas present:

2010-11-24T10:12:00.000-08:00

This photograph, taken by Tonya Vander, is December's photo,

along with the name of God, Jehovah Shammah, the LORD is here!

Top Twelve Reasons to Buy a 2011 Names of God Calendar as a Christmas present:
(I'm avoiding copyright infringement and there are 12 months :0) )

12) You don't have to face crowded malls - Just click on Pay Pal.

11) A year full of my words - it will be like having me in your house! And I know you want that. :0)

10) You can buy the calendar and then mark your birthday on it, so your friend/family member will see it and buy you something.

9) My birthday is September 10th - you need a place to write that down.

8) Let's face it - no one can remember that many names of God without help.

7) There is a time for every purpose under heaven. You need some place to mark them down.

6) You feel sorry for me.

5) You don't feel sorry me, you just want a good looking calendar.

4) The photography, taken by my friend Tonya Vander, is outstanding!

3) The devotions, written by yours truly, will point your friend/family member to God.

2) This calendar has absolutely nothing to do with TSA screening.

And the number 1 reason for buying a 2011 Names of God calendar:

1) The name of God has power! Even in a calendar!

What an Incredible Little Sermon! Takes 7 minutes but it's worth it!

2010-11-18T12:30:00.000-08:00

The story of Jonah from Corinth Baptist Church on Vimeo.

Today is the Day to Give Yourself a Break!

2010-11-16T09:32:00.000-08:00

Today is the day to give yourself a break!

You can't do it all.

So do what you can do

and then

Give yourself a break!

You can't please everyone

So please God and yourself

and then

Give yourself a break!

You can't be perfect

No one can. So do the best you can

and then

Give yourself a break!

You can't solve the world's problems,

But you can do your part.

So do it.

And then

Give yourself a break!

You can't save everyone,

But you can introduce them to THE Savior,

So love someone in Jesus' name,

and then

Give yourself a break!

Slow Down

2010-11-11T17:24:00.000-08:00

Lately, I've experienced several interruptions to my schedule. Life happens, I know, but it is difficult when you have one plan and that agenda which you believe to be important gets shelved.

Today I experienced yet another interruption to my intentions for the day and the week. It forced me to sit

and do very little. As I sat there I picked up an old journal that was nearby and flipped open to something that I wrote a while back.

It reminded me to slow down. Even stop and relax. It occured to me that the interruptions that have happened lately are probably reminders from God to stop running, slow down and breathe. It is often in those moments that God's love is clear.

The following is what I wrote. I was at a retreat center hanging out with Jesus, sitting on a porch of a cabin named Shalom. Are you rushing? Take a minute. Slow down.

The Porch at Shalom

I'm bundled in a cocoon of warmth

Gazing up through the pine trees' arms.

It too lifts its branches in praise with

The azure blue sky hovering in grace.

It is good to get away and sit on the porch of Shalom.

Colorado forest, blueberry bushes, wild dandelions -

A committee of creativity, whispering Your Majesty.

It's time to watch nature and see Your face.

Just sit and watch on the porch of Shalom.

Restoration, a date with my King,

Time to listen to no one else.

He knows secrets to massaging my soul,

His love soothes the aches. He is the Balm of Gilead.

And He meets me and holds me close

Here on the porch of Shalom.

The Voices in My Head

2010-11-09T10:36:00.000-08:00

How do you know you're crazy? Insane? A lunatic? Demented?

I would think it'd be difficult to diagnose yourself. So I don't. And ergo, I have not made an appointment with anyone who might dare use those words with me.

I don't have an official mental disease and those that do have my empathy. Seriously.

But there are days that I take a minute or several and ponder my mental health. Often, I'm not that impressed. If you need an example, let me tell you about last night.

I made homemade potato soup and we ate it for dinner and it was delicious. The three of us watched "Kung Fu Panda" and laughed. A nice evening. Between 8:30 and 9:00 John and Noah went to bed, leaving me to watch my DVRed "Dancing with the Stars." They refuse to be in the same room when it's on.

So there I was, me, alone with myself watching dancing. I was happy. But then the voices started.

"I wonder if I should have eaten that soup. Way too many carbs."

"I don't feel really well."

"Am I dying?"

"What if I have a horrible disease?"

"I don't want to leave John and Noah."

Variations continued until 11 p.m. at which point I woke up John, crying.

"Please pray for me. I don't want to die."

John can be a saint, as he was at that moment. He woke up and said in that husband voice of his, "Ooooookay."

He prayed and made me laugh, bringing a little reality back into my world. And then he went back to sleep. Within seconds.

I woke up this morning and I was alive.

No voices today. At least not yet.

52 days left 'til Christmas! Consider buying a calendar as a present!

2010-11-04T12:01:00.000-07:00

Can you believe it's 52 days 'til Christmas? For the first time in my life, I've done some early shopping. Just a couple of presents, but I usually wait until December 10th to start. I feel...a little more adult, actually. :0)

The 2011 Names of God calendar (displayed on the right) would be an excellent gift for one of your friends or family members. Beautiful photography by my friend Tonya Vanders and each month includes a Joyvotion (devotional) by yours truly talking about one of twelve names of God. Great way to remind yourself or someone else about the character of God.

Contact me at robbie iobst at hotmail dot com you would like to order one and send me the money. Otherwise go to the Pay Pal button on the right and click away to pay with your credit/debit card.

And on another note, I now have a WEBSITE! Woo Hoo! Check it out - http://www.robbieiobst.com/ and let me know what you think! :0)

Family - Take it up with God!

2010-11-02T07:37:00.000-07:00

This is my last week's Joyvotion. As always, if you want to sign up to get a free Joyvotion in your email once a week, email me at robbieiobst at hotmail dot com.

“A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.”

Ecclesiastes 3:4

John and I often look at our son and say, “Noah, we’re your parents. Take it up with God.”

I believe God uses all of life’s circumstances to build our character and draw us closer to Him. So it is logical that He would use our families to mold us into what He wants. Sometimes that means He allows us to go through difficult times with family. We all know, to different degrees, how that feels.

But I also believe that God uses the joy of family. This past week Noah and I travelled to Baxter Springs, Kansas to visit my Aunt Carol Jo and Uncle Henry. We also got to spend time with my cousin Bert and his family. We toured Baxter Springs, which didn’t take very long. We drove to Joplin, Missouri and ate and we took a stroll to Oklahoma. Uncle Henry spent some time teaching Noah about the Civil War history of Baxter Springs. My cousin Bert let Noah drive a tractor. Most of all, we visited and laughed. And I got to just be with my aunt whom I adore.

A wonderful time.

I have a “colorful” family. And I love the colors. My mom and dad were both raised in Texas, so many of my relatives have a southern twang when they speak. Add to that the language of many of my aunts and uncles and you get a unique group of folks. Profanity is used with the care of an artist’s brush. Nothing blasphemous, just…colorful. Plus, they use idioms that I feel are gems like: “He’s as worthless as spit in a puddle” or “Don’t go having a squealing worm fit.”

So visiting Carol Jo and Henry was a blast for me.

But I didn’t choose to be in this family. I didn’t ask to be in a family that makes me laugh so hard I cry or be in a family in which both my parents died before Noah was five. As that old saying goes we get to choose our friends but not our family.

God has taught me a lot through my family. Acceptance and honesty. Unconditional love. And of course, the joy of playing dominoes until late and visiting just for the sake of telling stories. I look at Noah and I hope he learns some good lessons from our family too. Time will tell.

Tonight, I was thinking about this Joyvotion and I asked Noah, “What is the best thing about our family, Noah?”

He answered, “The kindness. The love.”

Surprised, I asked him, “Are you being serious?”

Quick as a flash he said, “No. It’s the fact that we can afford video games.”

I’m Noah’s mom. I’ll take it up with God.

My Trip to Kansas in Pictures

2010-10-27T21:26:00.000-07:00

Last Friday John and Noah and I went to Kansas. John went to a conference in Wichita and Noah and I travelled on to Baxter Springs to see my Aunt Carol Jo and my Uncle Henry. On the way, we stopped at something I'd heard about. The largest Prairie Dog in the World! Turned out to be a bit of a zoo, sort of.

Noah feeding the sheep

John kidding around - :0)

John and Noah with Biggest Prairie Dog and baby

Me and Noah with the Prairie Dogs

In Baxter Springs, we visited with my aunt and uncle and my cousin and his family.

Noah, Henry and Carol Jo at the Rainbow Bridge, the

only remaining Marsh Bridge on Route 66

In Baxter Springs, we visited the #2 national cemetary and looked

at some Civil War soldier's graves.

Uncle Henry went around the cemetary teaching

Noah some history.

Noah, Carol Jo, Me, and Henry

One night we had dinner over at my cousin's house.

Wonderful food and laughter!

My cousin Bert, his daughter Kelsey, Henry,

Bert's wife Lory, Carol Jo and Noah

What a sweet time! :0)

Tweaking Time

2010-10-21T09:53:00.000-07:00

I'm in a season of tweaking. Not tweeting. Tweaking.

It's one of those periods where I look at my life through the microscope of purpose. I dissect my motivations and my goals. And then I tweak my calendar so that my life aligns with my purpose.

This takes time and often a lot of thought. I have created a ministry called Joy Dance. But what does that mean? What is my purpose and am I truly adhering to that? Takes time to figure it out.

In the midst of my tweak-age, I decided to talk to one of my favorite people, my big brother Phil. I admire
the way he lives his life for the Lord. Not perfectly, but definitely with purpose. So I called him up and made an appointment for coffee. I told him it wouldn't be the usual let's-just-hang-out-and-catch-up meeting. I was going to interview him about his ministry Caleb's Heart.

In interviewing Phil, I felt I'd get some substantial direction on how to tweak my own ministry, my own life.
And I wasn't disappointed.

My first question for Phil was "What is the best thing about your ministry, Phil?"

I expected answers like "Meeting men's needs" or "Relationships I've built" or "Watching God work in me and others." But that wasn't what he said.

Phil took no time at all and answered, "The King is pleased."

With his words, the Spirit grabbed my heart.

"I guess that's what it's about isn't it, Phil?"

"Yep."

We went on to discuss specifics and strategies and the lessons he's learned through trial and error. But after I left, the main thing that God kept bringing to mind was his first answer, "The King is pleased."

I know God loves me unconditionally and He gets a kick out of my life, just as I enjoy watching Noah grow.
But is He pleased with my actions? Is He pleased with the purposes and intentions of who I am?

This is the best tweak I could ever make. Looking at my life, my year, today and asking myself, "Are you pleased, my King?"

I'm still in the season. Tweak-age is still going on.

But I wanted to encourage you, the person who happens to be reading this right now. You. Is the King pleased with your purpose? If so, what a delightful sense of satisfaction to be able to say aloud with conviction "The King is pleased."

And if not, well, maybe it's time for your own season of tweaking.

Taking Care of Me - By Breathing

2010-10-19T09:09:00.000-07:00

Yesterday morning, I attended a Tai Chi class. A few weeks ago I was at a writer's conference and sat next to a lady that seemed nice. (Not all writers do, you know. :0) ) So I started up a conversation and discovered that she teaches Tai Chi. So I decided to try it a couple of weeks ago.

I love it.

Tai Chi is that slow type of martial arts looking movement that you might see in China at the park each morning. A slew of folks line up, (it’s a regimented practice) and move. The movements are deliberate and beautiful. And definitely not as easy as they look.

My teacher Diedre encourages us to not compare ourselves with anyone else in class and to go at our own pace. I rely on this.

One of our routines is to practice deep breathing. I love this. My Pop, Walker, taught me to breathe deeply years ago. He noticed that his youngest was the most dramatic of his four and along with that, the most likely to stress out about every little thing that interrupted the course of my day. So, he taught me to breathe.

“Pretend that when you’re blowing out you’re making tunnels of air. See them in your mind and make ‘em as perfect as you can. You do this, Cotton Top, (I used to be white blond) and with each breath out you’ll make that stress leak out of you.”

At 48 years of age, I finally know that dealing with stress is an essential part of taking care of my health. The world is so much more joyful a place to be if I learn to just LET IT GO. Breathing helps. Tai Chi helps.

Yesterday morning, I had to mail two letters. I hate to go to the post office but it was on my way back after Tai Chi, so I told myself it wouldn’t take but a minute to slip them into the outside box. When I pulled up to the box, I discovered that my letters had no stamps. Darn!

I parked and went in to find a long line. Just let it go. No biggie. I’m in no hurry.

When I got up to the front of the line (this took a while) the post office experienced a momentary power outage. After the lights came on, we were informed that it would take a “little while” for the computers to boot up again. I looked behind me and observed the level of stress this brought about to each person. One woman huffed and left the line, making sure she let the employees know of her dissatisfaction in the system. Two strangers started talking about it, both laughed and then they started talking about something else. A cameraderie formed in the midst of the post office line struggle. A man made a phone call and said loudly to whoever, “Well, it may be a while.”

As for me, I looked at the lady behind me and grinned and shrugged my shoulders. This is an international symbol for letting it go.

And then I breathed. In and out. It occurred to me that this was one of those moments in which I can add to the health and joy of my life, or I can squeeze my heart with stress. It’s a choice.

The lady behind me said tersely, “I have to be outta here to get back to my job in three minutes.”

I replied, “Why don’t you go next?”

“No, no, that’s not why I said that.”

“Please let me do this. I’m not working.”

“Okay. Thank you!”

At this point one of the employees waved her over. Then his computer failed to reboot correctly and he told her it’d be a while. She huffed and left. Oh well.

I’m not saying I’m all Yoda or the Dalai Lama or Jesus about life. I get impatient. Plenty.

But yesterday, I took care of me. I did it by breathing. By extending kindness. By letting it go.

I feel great.