Tag Archives: kristi burden

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If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it.

I think Max Lucado said this.  It's a warm thought that I was reminded of as I decluttered the inside and out of my own refrigerator this week.

But if God had a refrigerator:

It would be big enough for all of the pictures of you; from the newborn picture capturing the moment you stretched out your wrinkled fingers to say hello world, to the awkward photo of you in third grade where your smile was a mixture of missing teeth and teeth too big for your head.

It would have pictures on there of your friends back when too, every single friend.  It wouldn't  just be outdated Christmas pictures- And he wouldn't have them on his fridge because he missed them.  He's not separated from them by miles and miles like you are.

And there'd be pictures of that kid in class that no one talked to because he was strange and always had a patch of hair sticking straight up as if he'd never been introduced to a comb.

I wouldn't be surprised if there weren't Spelling papers with smiley faces or report cards with all A's.  Not because there wouldn't be room, but because he doesn't care so much about your accomplishments.

If God had a refrigerator he might put invitations on it; pretty paper proclaiming upcoming weddings and one for the Lego birthday party for your nephew that's turning five.  But they wouldn't be on there so he wouldn't forget.  He never forgets.

He wouldn't have to regrettably throw away the outdated picture of the sunshine with you and Him holding hands underneath because there wasn't enough room. The pictures on His refrigerator would never be too crowded.

Pictures on his fridge would never fade, or wrinkle,....or fall off the fridge to the dusty oblivion underneath.

He wouldn't have the week's meals or the weekly schedule scrawled out on a notecard.  His plans are age-old.

-No list of emergency numbers of people to contact when he's out-of-town.  He's never-not-there.

There's a lot of difference between God's fridge and mine...

 Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will live in the house of the Lord forever. Psalm 23:6

 

 

 

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I don't like tests.  I avoid them when I can.  But in life we're faced with tests of all kinds like Spelling and Math tests. Some tests come as we face decisions.  We must decide how to respond to our sibling who's singing obnoxiously in our ear just to make us crazy. Whether to lie or be honest in a difficult situation is an example of a test.  Maybe most weighty on my mind, this week, would be the STAAR test.  (Just looking at all the capital letters makes me feel intimidated -STAAR!!!!.....it's scary).  I am giving the STAAR test this week. It brings back familiar test feelings.  Those feelings got me to thinking.

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Thoughts about Tests

First things first. Tests are only a small measure of performance.  Tests only measure specific things like your knowledge on certain skills on a given day like the threes on a multiplication timed-test. One test might measure your ability to do pull-ups with a belly full of the pizza you had at lunch. You may have a test on the playground which requires choosing if you will stand up for someone being mistreated or if you'll do nothing.

Tests don't ever fully measure who you are.

Let me say that again in case you weren't listening.

Tests don't ever fully measure who you are.

If they did, King David wouldn't measure up too well. He messed up big-time on a number of tests. I think it was his heart that God was concerned with. Don't be too hard on yourself when every test is not met with star-student/get-it-all-right- performance.

But being that this is a test you have to take and you're expected to do well, here are some tips to help you do your best:

Be prepared.  By the time you're faced with a test it's too late.  Either you have what it takes to ace it, or you can eeny, meeny, miny, moe your way to the answer.  Tests will come.  In school and in life, listen,....study,......read the book.

Eat breakfast. This advice comes from one who didn't eat breakfast and fell asleep one time taking an important test when she was a Junior in High School. Embarrassing.  Make it a healthy breakfast too.  An oatmeal cream pie isn't the same as oatmeal, though I wish it was.  Eat healthy.

Pray.  Pray for a clear mind; that you would be able to remember those things you've learned.  Pray for calm.  Pray that God will help you know that He is with you during this test (well, any test). He's the big deal.  Not this test.

Rest well. Know that tests sometimes bring about weird dreams....or nightmares. Thank goodness they're just dreams.

Weird dreams about tests are normal. I think...... Weird and normal probably shouldn't be in the same sentence.  But for me, I have weird dreams when I'm facing tests.  Just last night as I was getting ready for my test to give the STAAR without breaking one of the rules in the really, really thick book teachers have to study to give you the test, I dreamed that I had to microwave the test for it to be ready.  Anyway you can't do much about weird dreams.  I mainly wanted to tell you about mine so you wouldn't feel so strange if you dream that your STAAR test booklet grows fur and fangs and tries to eat you.

Don't stress out. Worry doesn't help; it makes the tests you face harder.  Either you will do well on the test, or you won't do as well you wanted to.   If you don't do well on a particular test, just expect lightning to come from out of nowhere and strike you.  Nah, not really.  So don't worry.  Pray, like I suggested earlier.

Here's a biggie!!

Tests are not final. Tests are given to inform.   I tested a Jiffy Hamburger Casserole recipe tonight.  It was awful.  So where do I go from here?  Maybe I look more closely at the recipe next time.  Maybe I switch things up a bit.  Maybe I try something new.

Abraham Lincoln wasn't successful at every thing he attempted. Neither was George Washington Carver.  Look them up. There were times they didn't achieve what they had worked hard for.  So they continued to work hard.  Test results are a starting mark. They tell you what you may need to do for better results next time. Don't sweat this.

Get on your mark, 

Get set.

get your No. 2 pencils

and get on with it. 

This.......is just a test.

P.S. Feel free to share your weird test dream.  Surely I'm not the only one.

 

 

 

 

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Jason had a small wedding to officiate today. Only the couple and their immediate family would be there.  I asked him if someone would be taking pictures.  He thought probably not.  So I did what I so naturally do; I inserted myself into the event.  Not even knowing the couple, I decided (all self-important-like) that I would save the day.  I asked Jason if I could tag along and offer to take their wedding pictures.

Pulling up to the church, I got out of the car ready to pour on some picture-taking love.  I was stopped dead in my tracks by a woman holding a camera with a professional-looking attachment that resembled a creature out of a sci-fi film.  I told Jason I could stay in the car realizing I had no purpose in being there; I hadn't been invited.

Fast forward to 2:00.

Jason and I found ourselves on a "Let's get everybody something new to wear for Easter" mission. After a few hours and a few shopping bags, everybody had something new and spiffy to wear; except me. Every dress was too short, too tight, too young-looking or dry clean only.  If there was a dress meant just for me, I wasn't finding it.  And so we went home with one person in the car suffering with a case of "poor me".

The way I see it, this is a give and take world. Not one to do all giving or taking only, I find it appropriate to have good balance.  I had planned that good balance today.  I was going to give at the wedding by taking pictures that would serve an unsuspecting couple.  I was later going to take home a new dress; I'd owe it to myself.

Give and take. I see myself doing just that in every day's story; a story in which I'm always a central character.  I'm "a friend in need or a friend indeed".

But it isn't always about me.

At the wedding, I found myself nothing more than a nameless girl in the audience. I wasn't there to give or take. I was there, simply,  to take-in.  I saw the mother and father of the bride holding hands; their age-old love for each other evident.  I watched the bride wipe tears as she repeated "I do".  And I listened to a story of how the marriage came to be; a story rich in love.

Leaving the mall, I found myself with a willingness to give-in. Old dress or new dress, flashy or dull, I'm not the main character on Sunday, or any day. I may find an opportunity to greet some visitors and certainly I'll sing praises.  There will most assuredly be someone there who warms my heart with a hug or a compliment. Most importantly, beneath my dull, old dress will be one who remembers

There's a time to give,

a time to take,

and a time to do little more

 than fade into the audience;

a grateful and unimportant bystander-

with a heart occupied by worship.

 

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In my last post, I was all chilled-out with my c'est la vie attitude.  Mistakes and messes, I said are often unavoidable and can be great opportunities to see God at work.  So roll with messy life, I told you and I told myself.

The same day I wrote "The Chill Proclamation",  Hayden got into his truck for the first time without me and without his dad.  I released control and let him go to Market Basket to get a few things, envisioning the worst. (I realize this admission makes me seem like a fruit loop to some of you.)  I smiled confidently as I followed him to his truck and placed my hands and face on the window, near willing myself to cling to the side of his truck like Spidey Woman.

My smile didn't match my feelings.

I knew deep down that it was the right thing to let him go.  He has his license.  It's time.  I have faith.  But that's the funny thing about faith; faith is trusting God with what happens.  Often what I really want faith to mean is that -what I want to happen will happen.

Certainly we need to listen to God so that we're making right decisions, but even the keenest ear won't make all the right ones.  Even more frightening, some good decisions can end with consequences that we don't like. We must place more importance on trusting God (no matter the circumstances) than our ability to make right decisions.

Our feeble feelings and faith can coexist.  I let Hayden go, despite worrying, knowing that God is in control.  In my days I find myself angry, frustrated and worried. I can still trust God even when my feelings shout in disagreement.

Faith and feelings don't have to match.

I remember being really angry with someone one time.  I had let my anger grow and get the best of me for a couple of months.  I remember a point where I prayed something like this:

"You know my feelings God,  I'm having a hard time changing them. I know you don't want me to feel this way.  So I'm going to obey you and trust you.  I'm going to trust that you will change my feelings because I can't."

 Of course he did.  It took a little time, but I found myself walking closer to him in the wait.

Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be men of courage; be strong.  1 Corinthians 16:13

My feelings are loud.  They tell me that life is uncertain.  My feelings try to dictate my actions and inform my beliefs.   But I know better. My feelings are from me.  Faith is from God.  I think he wins.

 

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Chocolate syrup is not a familiar item on my grocery list.  Because it's messy. I avoid purchasing messy food items. That being said, I've never been a fan of paint or arts and crafts either.  I know the outcome dealing with such items. 

But I bought chocolate syrup on Saturday.

I was feeling generous I guess.  My oldest daughter, Hallie, asked for it and my shopping companion and oldest, Hayden, reminded me to get it. Here I am this morning having spied, unsurprised, a stream and spatter of chocolate running down my white cabinets.  It's dried of course, because the culprit left it there.

The suspect was either unaware of the mess or was unable to deal with it. 

I knew it would happen.  I know it will happen again.  Even if I stop buying chocolate syrup for my kids' milk. Because there will be other messes.  That's what kids do; make messes.  It's what we do in our humanity.  We're a messy people. 

Last night our youngest's Bible Buddy group showed off their Bible skills at church.   Rylie, much like her dad is secure.  She boldly moved to the microphone as they recited the Old and New Testament.  She, and the rest of the group in sing-song , flew through the first twenty-two books with ease.  But then even though she knew the books backward and forward, Rylie got stuck in a "Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther, Job" loop. 

Her booming loop confused the entire group so much that the leader had the group start again at Genesis only to have the same hitch. They tried a third time with Rylie's voice only slightly softened.   Willing, she  messed up three times but was never shaken.  If that's not enough, after loudly botching the books, she volunteered to recite them again aloud and alone.

She was not only comfortable making a mess, but she allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of a crowd.  I admire that.  She knows she doesn't have it all together and she's fine with that.

I'm aspiring to be more like that; in fact the chocolate syrup is still stuck to my cabinet while I'm writing.

Hayden got his driver's license today. I'd tote him around forever to avoid fender benders or worse.  Everything in my nature tells me to shake in terror as we invite the opportunity for mistakes.

But no, I'm determined to be mindful of a few things about messes.

1.Even when we strive for perfection and prepare ourselves fully, messes are still made.  Sometimes mistakes are unavoidable.

2.Mistakes teach us more than our easily-achieved successes ever could.

3. Sometimes messes are a precursor to something more beautiful than "rightness" could have ever brought about.  It was our fallen-ness that led to the cross and resurrection, the most beautiful and glorious event to ever take place.

4.Though God is ever-present, it's in our messes that we look to Him.  And he is with us in power.

5.And thank goodness, Love keeps no record of wrongs......

The match to our mess is marvelous grace.  

 

 

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Words are important.  Words encourage, enlighten and inspire.  Yet there are moments when words aren't necessary.

I've been reminded as of late, that communication can be beautifully accomplished with lips sealed.

10 Sights for Sore Eyes:

1. Flowers at the airport- After spending a week in Seattle, my family was waiting for me at the airport along with a fresh bouquet of flowers.  In an instant, my exhaustion from the day's travel melted and was replaced with excitement.

2. Sticky S'more fingers- Marshmallowy fingers communicate sweet rest and are usually accompanied by companionship. Milk mustaches warm my soul too.

3. Hand holding and Hugs- Love seems to course without a word when hands are held and hugs are given.  Hand holding is automatic when I pick Rylie up from school every day.  I treasure it.

4. Full baby cheeks and tiny toes- I'm reminded of God's design, still fresh.

5. A Card in the Mail- Stephanie, a dear friend, sends me a card throughout the year.  I'm touched deeply every time BEFORE I open it.  The envelope with my name handwritten speaks love into my day.

6. Jason's Car in the Driveway- The sight of his car pulling into the driveway means that the day in its laboring sense is done, and that it's time for togetherness.

7. Mom and Dad (well, all of our family)- Miles have separated us.  Though we talk weekly, they're a sight for sore eyes when we're together.

8. Things that are beautiful, things that are grand and things you don't see everyday. So,........things.  Beautiful things remind me of God's handiwork.  Grand things humble me and remind me that God is big.  Things you don't see every day shake me from the trance which tells me that my days are full of sameness. The bagpipes in the picture are made from chair legs and who knows what else, and the bagpipe plays.  I think it's wonderful.

9. Budding Friendships and Old Friendships too.- Sitting on the sidelines at the Heritage Festival and watching Hayden and Hallie stroll with friends reminds me that God provides.  Them finding friends has been a prayer of mine; one that has been answered.

10. Carefree Moments- When my mind has stilled I see better; I see deeper.  In busy-ness I see boys throwing rocks.  In a carefree moment I see time shared, without worry. Carefree moments are a sight for sore, tired eyes. 

What's a sight for your sore eyes?

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7 Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. Luke 12:7

Most everybody has read this verse.   To think that God knows how many hairs are on my head tells me that he is a personal God; an omniscient God.

It's impressive.

I'll tell you something else that's impressive; the hair on the heads of the Burdens.  All five of us have been blessed.  We have hair to share.  I was doing laundry yesterday and spent much of my time removing hair that had become entwined in the fibers of our clean clothes.

What a monotonous job.  But the hair-picking made me realize just how remarkable God is.  When I think about God knowing the number of hairs on my head, I think of a single number.  God knows that I have.... say, 108,237 hairs on my head.

As I removed hair strand by strand from a sweater, I was struck by a simple fact.........

The number of hairs on my head CHANGES constantly.

The number of hairs on my head changes when I brush my hair.  I lose hair as I go about my day.  Silver strands sprout daily adding to my hair number.  I lose thousands of hairs with no awareness.  I notice every new gray.  And God is aware of it all.

And so it goes with life.

Life is full of change with its swinging moods.  You're on fire for God one minute and you've forsaken him the next.  Change is ever about; when you step on the scales and when you see your sixteen year old pull out of the driveway without you.

Know this.

God knows your troubles just like he knows your hair's number. He's ready for those curve balls bearing change and he tells us not to be afraid.  Change is constant, and like the shedding of our hair it's often unavoidable.

Life is full of change. It's impossible sometimes to keep up.

The number, that great mysterious number of hairs on our head changes,

 but our God of great grace does not.

 It is well for us that, amidst all the variableness of life, there is One whom change cannot affect; One whose heart can never alter, and on whose brow mutability can make no furrows. - Charles Spurgeon

 

 

 

 

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A friend walked into the house just yesterday.
"Smells like somebody's been baking", she said.  

"It's a lying candle," I told her.

The smell in my kitchen was nothing more than a Blueberry Blitz Tyler candle. I'm no baker.  I burn pop tarts.  The smell also covers up the large bag of garbage in the hall which holds pizza rolls, the closest I got to cooking this week. 

Recently I attended a party with peanut brittle and chocolate peanut patties. They were displayed on a festive plate wrapped with Saran wrap.  I ended up telling several people that my sweets came from Market Basket and I'd simply trashed the plastic containers. Presentation is important. Am I right? 

I don't mean to give anyone a false impression.  If I'm being honest, which I have a habit of being...... to a fault,  I'd say that the facades I present are to convince myself  (more than anyone else) that I'm everything I should be. The festive plate made me feel closer to the mark. Isn't "the mark really just that invisible success line we draw for ourselves as women? 

There's a Super Woman cape calling to me from that finish line I race toward each day, but that cape is one I'll never wear.  And I whisper to myself that I want to wear one; to show myself and the world that I take fine care of my kids and my husband. My cape will tell me what a good friend I am, and church member too.

But wearing a Super Woman cape would be a lie.

Despite my effort, I'm weak

and vulnerable and sometimes afraid;

nothing like a Super Woman, I'm insufficient on my own.

Thinking I have it all together is anything but truthful.  I'm a mess.

It's my realization of my inadequacy and my trust in one who is more than sufficient that wins me a cape; a great covering.

I possess a Super Cape.  It was given to me.  When I'm burning my lying candle at both ends, falling short, my Savior is there beside me and he covers me with that cape.  And I'm reminded that I'm enough as I remember the word spelled out in bold letters across my cape's back.........G R A C E.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.

2 Corinthians 12:9

 

 

 

 

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I know you're tired

even though you went to bed last night at 8:30

and it's only a Monday.

Thing is, the tired you're feeling isn't fixed with ten hours of sleep or a fresh cup of coffee -or whatever it is that "gets you going"

You're disheartened deep down

-because for all your effort, there still remains a mountain of laundry

and a world of problems you can't solve

You're discouraged.

The word discourage is made of two parts- dis and courage.  Sorry, here comes a definition.  It's my teacher coming out.

courage /ker-ij/ mental or moral strength to persevere, and withstand danger, fear or difficulty (Thanks Merriam)

dis- (as you know) is a prefix meaning "apart"

Through calamities our moral strength is ripped apart.

You haven't experienced a calamity lately?  Even the wear and tear caused by daily demands can cause you to become unraveled.

Dirty dishes.

Bills.

Bickering around you.

Practices and appointments.

Finding the toilet unflushed for the thousandth time....

Isaiah reminds us that even the young "grow tired and weary". We get tired and we need rest, yes.   But we need something more.  When rest leaves you with a tiredness of heart, and Monday finds you anything but refreshed - hold tight to these familiar words

...those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. Isaiah 40:31

The laundry pile will never permanently disappear. That someone in your house may never learn to flush. Some real calamity may even present itself in your life. We can expect these things.  But while we know life is full of these troubles, let us look expectantly to the one who helps us through.

What has you unraveled?

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I see my children.

I saw our daughter Rylie standing rather suspiciously in the kitchen just the other day. The hand behind her back held an oatmeal cream pie with a bite missing.

Every morning I give my children a look-over. I check the boy, Hayden, for hair bumps that often arise when he lies on wet hair after his morning shower.

I see the eye makeup that our preteen Hallie is hoping I won't notice.
I am the Mom who sees.


Not only do I see my children in a gotcha sort of way,

I also see when one of them exits school with shoulders slumped slightly because it hasn't been the best day.
I watch, in adoration as Hayden and Hallie laugh in unison at a YouTube video-a beautiful sight.
I look.

I watch and I see.


Or so I'd like to think.  My kids have thrown me for a loop more than once in the past few days.
One rather long day this week I kissed my seven-year old, already in bed, goodnight, saving her bath for the morning. I noticed the next morning as she crawled out of bed that she slept in her school clothes (I probably shouldn't be telling that).
I found out another one of my children had a rough spell with a close friend months ago. How could I have missed that?


I took Rylie to the ophthalmologist this week to find out she needs glasses and an eyepatch-I was blind to her bad vision, Oh the irony. There were signs, for crying out loud.

Sometimes I blink and I miss things.

Other times there are blurry things; things foreign, unfamiliar.  

And if I'm really honest, I'd say there are times I see things which make me want to cover my eyes; things I wish I didn't have to see.

But I can rest assured in El Roi; the God who sees.

He's the God who saw Hagar in the desert when she was otherwise abandoned.

He is the one mentioned in Psalm:

3 You discern my going out and my lying down;

you are familiar with all my ways. Psalm 139:3

He sees.

Everything.

 Tears cried,

and that bad grade

 you didn't know about

that made its way to the garbage,

how your son held the door open

for the woman who could only move slowly,

 and your daughter's integrity

 in that difficult trial last week.

He knows what's under their bed.

There are no surprises.

No blinking or looking off.

He doesn't miss a thing.

He sees.

That spells b-l-e-s-s-e-d   r-e-l-i-e-f to these eyes.