Target

At church tonight the pastor explained sin. I have heard it explained this way from the pulpit before. I have also heard it explained this way in books. Dannah Gresh had a very detailed explanation with pictures and diagrams in her book, "5 Little Questions." (A great read by the way.) The Old Testament root word is chata or hatta. It is a term used in archery that means "to miss the mark." The Greek word used in the New Testament for sin is hamartano. This makes it a bit clearer being defined as "to miss the mark and so not to share in the prize."

Pastor Fidel referenced 1st Timothy 1:15 "This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief."

Sinners would be those that miss the mark.

With that definition, which I do believe is most accurate, it pretty much qualifies us all. And speaking of the writer of 1st Timothy 1:15, Paul, saying he is the chief sinner, most definitely qualifies me. Study out the incredible ministry of Paul. The same Paul that wrote over half of the New Testament. He is "chief" sinner? Well, I must be "Big Time Sins Alot On A Daily Basis Princess!"

The word chief, is protos, meaning a prototype, an example, the first of these. Paul is saying, quite humbly and honestly, "I am the worst here." He says this not to beat up on himself, play victim mentality or to discourage us. He says it to, and I am quoting Pastor Fidel, "So others can look on and see what God can do with me. A former blasphemer, persecutor and insolent man." These catchy and descriptive titles can be found in the few verses right above 15 in 1st Timothy 1.

The Pastor's message went on to say that Jesus came to deliver, heal and complete you. I know this is must be news for Renee Zelwigger. She thought Tom Cruise completed her in "Jerry McGuire!"

As I took notes in tonight's service I thought about those 3 parts of saving...

deliver

heal

to complete or make whole.

I also thought about missing the mark, or target and I couldn't help but think about one of my favorite stores, Target.

I must confess to you all that I am one who has enjoyed "retail therapy" way too many times to count. I must also admit that this "retail therapy" has taken place at way too many Target's. I must also admit that I have actually picked neighborhoods and houses by our direct location to a Target store. I don't make my decisions based on this criteria any longer, but I once did.

I just could not help the neon blinking sign flashing before me as Pastor Fidel preached. Target, I mean, look at their logo. It's a big red target. Then, as if the Holy Spirit had not stirred my heart enough...

Pastor Fidel said, "Delivering and unlocking the chains of bondage does not have to be bondage to a chemical addiction. It can be from fear, doubt, maybe anxiety."

I knew instantly where the Lord was taking me. I wish, or maybe not, I knew the number of times I have relieved my anxiety by going to Target and missed the mark! So, this information I am about to share with you is not from one who is looking down in judgment or condemnation. It is simply from one who has "been there and done that" more than just a few times! So, take heart my fellow sojourner, really take it to your heart and maybe, as Beth Moore so often says, "You may not have to take the field trip on this one!"

Ready?

Are you sure?

I might just step on a few feet on this one.

But here goes anyway.

It started out when he would work nights. I was lonely and pregnant. Not usually a good position to be in. I hated being alone and because we lived in a metropolitan area, it didn't matter what time it was. Pretty much everything was open at anytime. I also, would get my creative bursts at odd times and I never liked cooking, eating and cleaning up all by my lonesome. So, I would go to the shopping plaza, literally, 2 blocks from our house. I would eat out and then go to the brand new Target. Target stayed open until 11:00 pm. : )

When I would walk in the automatic doors with a full belly and clean restrooms to my right, all was well in the world according to me! After my "pit stop," I would go straight about 10 clothes racks and to the right, where I would run into the Maternity section. Joy would overtake me. I would go through the racks like a kid in a candy store. There was always something on sale I could pair it with a full price item. A perfect match. Sometimes, if all the stars would line up just right, two sale items marked down really low could be paired with one full price item. A full giggle and smile just could not be contained at that point! People did stare.

If it was a day I had listened to John MacArthur or Charles Swindall on Christian radio, my conscience might fidget a bit. I always knew how to close the deal, though. Calculate in my head when the next paycheck was and go try it on. Once outfits were assembled in the dressing room and I modeled in the 3 way mirror at the end of the dressing rooms, I had to purchase the outfit. It looked way too cute! If my conscience still was flip flopping, not too common at this point in my Christian walk but it did occasionally happen, I would just justify loaning them out to my friend at church who was trying to get pregnant with her second baby.

Upon leaving the dressing room with my cute little ensembles, I would head straight to the aisle past shoes on the left. There I would find a whole section dedicated to baby paraphernalia that was way too irresistible to pass by. The endcaps closest to the shoes is where you could always find marked down merchandise. A new baby growing in my tummy. I really never needed much justifying for this part of the trip. I pretty much went with "I need this."

I spent most of my time in this section. I combed every row and rack, every bin and shelf. I was meticulous when it came to locating just the right thing for the new baby! This baby was a 4 year long waiting miracle from God. This baby had been conceived with prayer and signs and wonders...no expense should be spared. At least that was my mind set.

The rest of the trip would go fairly unpredicted and unstructured depending on whether I needed Tide or Motrin. Complete opposite directions from one another. I always ended up in the book and music section before making my way to the register for check-out. I would discipline myself most times and only get one or the other. Sometimes I needed a book, other times a CD. It just ended up on my mood. I would always pick one or the other, though.

Unloading my items onto the conveyor belt was never pleasant. It is in the unloading that I would start estimating the cost of my "needs and wants" and the stomach would start to feel it. My heart would speed up a little, my palms would start increasing the temperature and I would just hurry and put everything on the counter and stop calculating. I never liked math anyway.

Idle chat with the cashier would calm me down somewhat, and if she liked what I picked out and made a comment, well, my spirits would soar. This meant confirmation that I truly did need this. If the cashier agreed and thought it was adorable, all the better. Sometimes I would even luck out and she might say something like, "This just got marked down this morning." I was on cloud nine if that happened. Praise the Lord, it was on sale!

Pushing my cart of happiness to the car would bring a renewed sense of guilt and I would promise God that I would not do this again until I actually put next week's paycheck in the bank and paid the mortgage. I promise! I promise! I promise!

Lonely, anxiety, sadness, guilt, and bad moods never let me keep those promises. Most addictions never do let you keep your promises.

Which leads me to why we, sinners, need to be delivered, healed and made whole. Only the Lord can do that. New maternity clothes, even f they are 50% off, the cutest baby onesie you have ever seen or a new sipee cup won't do any of these. A charming and successful hubby, a devoted best friend, a house full of children or a mansion in the fanciest neighborhood with the best schools and a Starbucks down the street won't deliver, heal or complete you. I've had all of those things I mentioned above and take it from me... I've been on the field trip. They don't do those things. Only One I know can and will.

King Solomon concluded and recorded it for all of us in Ecclesiastes, to avoid the field trip of seeking after worldly possessions: whether it be vanity, pleasure, great accomplishments, hard labor, human religion, wealth, children, the future, or wisdom. In Ecclesiastes 12:7 and 8 he wrote, " Then the dust will return to the earth as it was, and the spirit will return to God who gave it. Vanity of all vanities," says the Preacher, "All is vanity."

When you and I turn to dust, it really won't matter if we toted a Coach handbag, wore JimmyChooChoo's, or looked good in a pair of Lucky jeans. It won't matter if we had all the money we wanted, or that our children always had matching bows and polka-dotted rain boots that coordinated with the diaper bag that cost more than the car seat. It just won't matter.

I would be amiss if I said I never wanted those things. Because my heart longs for polka dots, monograms, big hair bows and pretty diaper bags. I was raised in the south and hold these near to my heart. I love staying at fancy hotels, enjoying room service and sipping on Starbucks Tazo Earl Grey. I use 1 Splenda and organic half and half. I love buying a new bathing suite at the mall where they have the latest styles and cutest prints with matching and trendy cover-ups. They are way overpriced but I love the feel and look of their merchandise. I even like the way they wrap it in tissue paper, place it in their shopping bag and walk around the counter and hand it to you. I love the way Target smells and I love getting anything on sale! I don't think I have ever passed a bookstore without going in and 75% of the time buying a book. These things are nice and I enjoy them all.

They don't control me anymore, though. I have turned a corner. As much as I enjoy the Cheesecake Factory where my standard order is the baja chicken taco's and Linda's hot fudge cake with whipped cream on the side, I don't live for it anymore. I live for Jesus. I live for spending time in the Word or in prayer with my Starbuck's tea bags I buy at Publix. I would rather give up an hour of sleep to be with Him than anything else in this world. All those things are nice, they are, but as the song so aptly describes the things of this world, "I Can't Get No Satisfaction..."

If you started laughing at my story and are now feeling a boatload of guilt because you never thought anyone else in the world got that excited about a diaper bag or Target, take a deep breath. The enemy speaks condemnation not our Lord. "There is therefore now no condemnation in Christ Jesus." This is a verse in Romans. One I repeat to myself often. Whose words are you listening to? The enemy or the Deliverer, the Healer, or the One who can and does complete you?

Turn a corner my friend. Choose not to miss the mark. Go to the One who will let you enter the throne room boldly to receive mercy and grace. Get out your Bible, have a cup of tea, open up that journal. Look up what He has to say about you...Psalm 139 is a great starting point. Turn to Hebrews 4:15 and 16 to see how He knows are struggles and allows us into His royal chambers. Flip through Joseph's story in Genesis and see in chapter 50, verse 20 how God turns around what was meant for evil. Read the Psalms and listen to David, a man after God's own heart, fails time after time after time, and sinks into the depths of despair and gets up and dances joyfully before the Lord. Have you studied Job lately or read of the orphan girl who became queen? Turn off the daytime soap operas, come out of your own drama for a minute and give your self to the only One who can give you what you need.

If you live close to Target, and need to go pick-up toilet paper or dish soap, take your Bible, a limited amount of cash, 3 or 4 children, even if you have to borrow a neighbor's, and go at lunch or nap time. Trust me on this one, it is humanly impossible to do too much damage with that combination!

Waiting

I love the song, "Waiting On A Woman" that Brad Paisley sings. In fact, I enjoy most of his songs. They have a way of defining truth and reality with a dose of humor. He sometimes swings from one pendulum to the other; sometimes he has a lot of funny, other times he has a very sentimental slant. Anyway...I like his music and I really like "Waiting On A Woman."

Waiting. I have never been so good at waiting. I think in this country and lifestyle we are accustomed to, not a lot of people these days like it, either. It's a part of life that must be faced, in every area of life, however.

In the physical world. No-one jumps on the elliptical and starts a 45 minute work-out. If you have not been to the gym in over a year, the most you will do on that machine is 3 minutes tops. If you are being honest and want to get out of bed tomorrow morning!

In the educational world. Diploma's from any schooling, training certificate's, Continuing Education Units, even PhD's of any kind (including mothering and the School of Hard Knocks) require a wait.

In the spiritual world. It's the same. The qualities one wishes to possess, like maturity, wisdom and strength come from waiting. My teacher in a six month class on learning to live with better "life skills" I attended used to say, "Time is your friend." I hated that saying. Now I know it's the truth.

I ran across a quote from Oswald Chambers. "He works where He sends us to wait." I love that. So simple, yet so profound. As I pondered the quote I immediately thought of my 5 blessings from God, my children. The thought I had was the 4 years of infertility and practically a lifetime of wanting to be a "Mommy." He is definitely working where He made me wait for those awesome gifts! (I might add 2 of those gifts are ages 13 and 14! Help!) Parenting is one of the most challenging things I have ever waited so long for! Case in point.

The Lord immediately brought to my mind another example of waiting. Waiting in a doctor's office. A very practical yet common practice we have probably all had, and most likely dread. Why? Because we have little to no control, we need to be there and if we blow this chance at waiting we will have another chance to do it all over again. Amazing, the spiritual undertone here.

My waiting room experience...just one of thousands, that I would like to discuss was just about a month ago. I was taking Sarah Grace for a well check. She was not sick, no-one was, believe it or not. We also had no place to go. We had just eaten, had a potty break and relatively happy.

I wanted to be purposeful in maintaining the peace and joy that morning. We really all needed a good day. Desperately. After parking the car, I discussed the rules of engagement. Inside voices, holding my hand until we reached our destination and the possibility of a Dollar Tree reward if the visit was successful. After I adjusted shoes, headbands and bows, I felt confident we were going to win this battle. So in great confidence we marched forward ready to tackle the Pediatrician's office.

Some of you may think I might be a tad over dramatic in using words like, battle, rules of engagement, and marching. If you are someone thinking this, there are a couple of categories you may fall in. One, you have very passive, pleasing, quiet or medicated children. Two, you have no children. Three, you have an only child. Four, you don't have my children! The only other option is that you have never observed our family in a waiting room, because if you had, you would KNOW that those words are not dramatic in any way shape or form.

We had been there, in the waiting room less than 5 minutes. We were early by 15 minutes, simply unheard of with my personality, circumstances and the type of children the Lord chose to bless me with. Lily and Sarah were sitting down and reading a book. The room seemed quiet and ordered.

1o minutes in, paperwork was filled out, insurance cards copied and not one child had experienced a melt down, freak out or episode. This was to be a banner day! We are going to be called back any minute and this will be one of the most successful trips to see the Pediatrician we have ever had. Dollar Tree, here we come.

The mood in the waiting room was overly pleasant. I was smiling and happy to see my children behaving so well. I was admiring the art on the wall above the "Well Area" and decided to show off my art skills. This peace and joy thing, was making me feel a little creative flair emerging. The cow and giraffe hanging on the wall were just too cute. I love little red barns and simply adore the whole farm animal motif. I found a pencil and piece of paper to sketch on.

The kids looked at Mommy intensely looking at the art work, looking up, studying the animals and transferring it onto my paper. Things were starting to take shape on my "canvas." The kids were huddled over me. Squeals of laughter and happiness were flowing freely. We were living in the moment while waiting... in a germ infected, sick children, give me a can of Lysol, please, doctor's office.

The next time I looked at the clock, it had been 45 minutes. I am not kidding. I walked up to the desk ever so politely and the nurse said, "I am so sorry. You should be next. This is ridiculous." I just smiled and said, "No problem." I thought to myself, "Good, I have time to finish the zebra now!"

We did not get into that coveted room for another 20 minutes. And guess what, it was okay. In fact, it was more than okay. We had patiently waited and enjoyed, relished and made a happy family memory there in that waiting room. In fact, the staff seemed quite impressed with my artistic skills and so were my 2 older girls once we arrived back home.

I enjoy walking into that waiting room now. I hold my head high and know that my artistic skills were not the only thing the staff was impressed with. I handled that situation with grace and poise and gave a good Christian witness. Not something I can always say, even in good situations. I even made memories with Sarah and Lily. I do not even have to identify myself anymore when calling the office. They know my voice and seem to always be more than willing to extend me favor.

Waiting. Is waiting a divine appointment? An opportunity to reveal your character? A chance at making some memories? Perhaps a teachable moment? Yes, we won the battle that day. Onward Christian soldiers march, even if it's in place!

#5 In a Series of 5

I know it has taken me a little while to get this #5 birth story out. We have had a busy couple of weeks. Meghan turned 13 on the 4th of February, Mattie got out of the house to chase a squirrel and we haven't seen her since : (, not to mention, school, work and chores! So, today, I am making it a priority and will give you the birth story for my sweet Lily Bay.

This story will be a complete opposite of the first born...

The way I found out I had a little "bun in the oven" was in the Target family bathroom. I bought a home pregnancy test and just could not wait. I called Walt using the pay phone by the Target cafe to tell him the good news.

I was a little hesitant to tell anyone else, even the kids. I guess, word is, it got around the house through the grapevine and pretty soon, as I was dropping off at school, other moms started asking. Reagan recalls that she heard from Meghan, who heard from Jeb, who was probably eavesdropping. I delayed telling my parents for 4 months. One friend's reaction was complete and utter disbelief and no return phone call for 24 hours.

I will explain my reluctance for all who may not be aware.

We had just moved to Rhode Island. A very cold and northern state that has no stores to monogram your initials on anything, no sweet tea served in restaurants, not a hint of a palm tree around, no sand at the beach, and just very different than the southern climate I was accustomed to.

We had lived in a hotel for the first 6 weeks of arriving in this tiny little state. At the time, I had an 8 year old, 6 year old, 4 year old and a 14 month old! Yes! One morning I went down to the lobby to grab a quick something, I came into the hotel room to find the 2 oldest "bungee jumping" from the headboard of the queen sized bed. They had taken the harness I used for Sarah, to keep her "contained" while out and about, as a type of bungee rope and attached it to the center piece on the Victorian headboard. They were then harnessing themselves and jumping off the bed. No kidding! Of course, 3 guesses as to who the master mind was in this contraption.

Sarah, my sweet 14 month old would climb like a monkey up the bars of her porta-crib and fling herself over the edge to get out! This very scheduled baby was not getting her naps and this was only adding to everyone's stress.

The real estate market was booming. Houses would get put on the market, and be sold in an hour above the asking price! We had no idea what area to live in, where the best schools were, and a very not so kid friendly real estate agent. We even had a house we wanted, put a contract on it and lost it over the weekend due to the not so honest real estate frenzy.

We would drive around all day looking at houses. I would get lost, the kids would be tired of driving and there was always someone hungry! In the 6 weeks we looked for a house, these are some of the strange but funny events:
* Meghan (age 6) got her shoes stuck in tar in one of the driveways of one of the houses we were looking at.
* I fell down a set of stairs while holding Sarah (14 months old), all the while remaining upright and not dropping her!
* We went into a house where the bathroom had white shag carpet with a matching toilet seat cover; a shiny, silver metallic wallpaper; a bedroom with wallpaper that matched the bedspread and a semi-circle bed that totally blended in! We were back in 1970 something!
* The realtor broke my power window switch, just weird!
* Sarah always wanted to nurse at the most inopportune times, like when the seller was answering the door, or we were driving and no place to stop, all while running late to
meet the realtor.
* I know the kids broke something at 50% of the houses…usually nothing beyond repair…just very embarrassing.

I was overwhelmed and not really in the perfect, “let’s have another baby” type situation. I never had any doubts myself, nor did Walt. Of course, I would be the one to suffer the morning sickness, enduring it for 9 months, and take care of this new little life…

but

I could see why family and friends might not see it as a practical thing to do.

I was also very homesick, struggling in my marriage, having difficulty adjusting to the kids being in public school, hating the weather, and just not really having the best circumstances. It was like the climate we were living in. It was grey, cold and very little sunshine.
I could relate a lot more information, but let’s just say that Lily’s pregnancy was not exactly the ideal situation.

Now, back to the blessed event: the birth!

I was in Florida, living in a 2 bedroom apartment and Walt was still in Rhode Island.
(that in itself is a whole other story)
I was working out and working on Saturdays at the YMCA. I was one fit and in shape pregnant woman. All my other babies had come early and I was sure Lily would, too. She was not cooperating with my plan. I begged the doctor to induce at every exam. I just knew delivery was around the corner.

Memorial Day weekend came and me and a friend traded kids. She took Reagan and I took Clark and Preston for the weekend. All I needed to get through was the weekend. Dr. LeMay had checked me on Friday and said it would be any day now. If I had not gone into labor by Tuesday, we would do an induction and I would meet her at the hospital at 6am. So, by Tuesday, a baby would ensue!

Needless to say, I made it through the whole weekend! I just had contractions all weekend, off and on, with a bag ready to go. Waiting and waiting.

Tuesday morning arrived and Jennifer picked me up. My mom had come to stay with the kids and I had gotten ready with a cute outfit, styled hair and make-up. I was tan from weekends at the beach and I was fit as a fiddle. I had my bags packed with all the necessities, I had even remembered the video camera and the 35mm camera.

All my preparation would need a little tweaking. It turns out, being in such good shape was a hindrance with the epidural. They had to try 3 times because my spinal cord was so strong and muscular, go figure?! My camera situation; no video tape for the video camera, and no batteries for the 35 mm! The only reason we had the film in print was thanks to Jennifer’s disposable in her purse. It was a leftover from her son’s beach birthday party the week prior. He was 14 and we had given him a big 8th grade, everyone at the beach, last day of school, right of passage kind of celebration. Jennifer had bought 15 or so disposable cameras and had 1 left in her purse!

Johnny, Jennifer’s 14 year old, and Lily would share in the same birth date. June 1st.

Walt had scheduled a flight for Wednesday, June 2nd, to get into town. My mom was with the children, and my dad was 3 hours away. So, it was just me, Jennifer and Dr. LeMay. She broke my water at 7:30 am. We then had a slight complication where the meconium was in the amniotic fluid and then it became a fast paced delivery. I was now very glad we induced labor and ready to deliver Lily.

Lily was delivered without any more complications before lunch. CMT was on the TV and Jennifer was by my side. Not your typical Hallmark delivery, more like a Lifetime movie. But that’s the story. She is here, and she was healthy, beautiful and baby #5 after 4 years of infertility! Hallmark movie or not, a miracle none the less!

I knew Lily was special. I knew God brought her to me for a reason. There is something about my Lily Bay. She weighed in at 7 pounds, 11 ounces but my love for her can not be measured in pounds or ounces. I am guessing that God’s love for me can not be measured in pounds or ounce, either. For Him to trust me with five precious gifts, named Jeb, Meghan, Reagan, Sarah and Lily, that has to be immeasurable and grandiose love! Unexplained and undeserved love like no other.