Further Up, Further In

The Ways of Boys

2011-10-07T12:51:00.000-07:00

I am number 4 of a total of 5 girls. My childhood home was all estrogen, all the time. Due to this, I've had a Ripley's Believe It or Not-style fascination with the ways of boys in general. As if males were an anomaly. Because in my family they were. What do they do? More importantly in this case, why do they do it?

Jesus answered my lifelong curiosity with some boys of my own. Well, I guess it really started with getting married, but that's different.

Side bar: Let's just quickly qualify the point that I am differentiating within the general topic of "males" based on relationship. I had friends, cousins and other outside male relationships like that. And I willingly married one but, qualifying it on relationship, my definition included "man" and "romance" and "flowers" and "love notes", etc., in other words, its biased.

All that to say, my everyday understanding of boy begins with my 6 year old, especially non-verbal son. So, as I have questions like "is this a personality thing or do all boys NOT talk EVER?" - my son isn't the one to ask for insight into himself. And this comes into play especially with school. And here is where I thank difficult circumstances for the much better outcome: I got book on the library about boys and their brains!

No, seriously, that's the punchline. Author Michael Gurian had done years of brain study on boys and men and the male brain. THANK YOU, SIR! And has come out with some books to talk about what makes boys so unique and great (because, frankly, they get kind of a bad rep if you think about it).

I've read through (ok, skimmed for the pertinent parts) 3 of his books about adult male relationships, how boys and girls learn differently and the need for boys to have a higher calling. Very, very interesting stuff. I've changed some of the ways I relate to my son, but especially in the ways I try to motivate my son or give him greater meaning. My 9 yr old daughter has even come back to me to tell me a tip or two she has used in her relationship with her brother. Bottom line: useful.

So, do you have a boy in your life? Go out to your library (of which I'M SURE you already have a card, because you support your community) and get The Wonder of Boys.

[End Public Service Announcement]

Birthday Holiday

2011-09-28T15:15:00.000-07:00

9 years ago I was much dumber.

I was surprised by a pregnancy. And 9 months later, after a long, difficult labor and emergency C-section delivery, I had my first baby in my arms. A little girl who was more beautiful than I deserved. I was happy. I was NOT ready. And like most new moms I was starting down a road of low levels of consistent stress. Everything was a 1st. I didn't have much experiential understanding. You know that gauge inside every mom for her child that reads "Happy & Healthy" on one end to "Dangerous & Life Threatening" on the other? My needle was all over the place. Was that fever ok or terrible?

Thank you, God, for your graciousness. Its a gift, not a reward.

My daughter turned 9 yesterday. In some ways, she is someone I want to be when I grow up. If I were her age, I'd want to be her friend. She's THAT great.

6 years ago (and 2 weeks) I was a bit more ready for baby #2. It seemed there actually WAS room in my heart to love another baby! And yet, I loved this little boy uniquely. Probably because he was a whole new, unique person. I was also more relaxed. It was easier to just love without caution. I found that I loved my little family and I wasn't sure that I would. I mean, I really really love them. They are still my favorite people. In the whole world.

But something unlocked in my heart with this last baby.

I don't just appreciate new life now, I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT!

I am deeply moved by the face of a newborn. Its not just "hope" or "the future" or "life", its deeper and stronger and bigger than those words. Its bigger than any of the words I know or have used before. I feel...intense about new life. Its become a cherished gift to me.

Which makes children an incredible honor.

My baby is 1 today. (yes, I have all September babies, go ahead and giggle)

We tried for more than a year for him. A very long, sad year. And the other two had been praying for a baby longer than that (before Mommy was even ready!). He is cherished by this family. I don't think we've ever been upset with him. Frustrated, sure, but we are just so thankful for him and his whole self that spilling, hair-pulling, lego-wrecking and the demand for Mommy's attention is all worth it.

Bottom line. They are all so worth it. All the babies. Everywhere. And that's smart.

Put Your Hand To Something, Honey!

2011-09-23T11:19:00.000-07:00

Inspiration! (I love that the word for a creative light bulb over our heads is the same word for breathing in - genius!)

I'm a ~~creation~~ creative advocate. Ignore the grammar issue and stay with me, we're going somewhere.

If God's first handshake to us, the first impression, in Genesis was "God created" (Hi, I'm God. I'm so creative I am The Creator), then I'm guessing that the creative element of being human is a big part of the "image and likeness" tag we wear.

That established, I'm a real cheerleader for creative endeavors.

Put your hand to something, honey!

Do something new. Create something. Do a craft or bake a cake or install flashy rims on your car but do something with your hands. Write. Imagine. Because (and here's where we put the big equals sign) it will yield (or =) the reward or fruit of a certain...nearness...to God. (there's gotta be a better word out there, but I'm in a rush - the baby's asleep)

In my opinion, it opens up the doors to greater knowledge, understanding and emotional connectivity to eternity since the greatest concentration of image and likeness would seem to be found in our spirits and thus tapping our creativity means tapping into our spirit.

So. This is a super article about writing.

Go on. Get started.

Who's The Boss

2011-08-09T10:53:00.001-07:00

I homeschool my children.

Homeschooling is a weighty lifestyle and value choice. Its deviant in that it breaks from a cultural norms and like other deviations requires great effort.

My sister does not homeschool her children. She weighed and considered and chose to use her local public pre-school. And while it would seem that we are odds on a very deep, lifestyle value level, we still manage to remain friends.

I love her very much. She loves the Lord, like I do. She loves me. In this case, while I am beyond convinced that I am making the better choice for my children's education, I do not pretend to know what's best for her children. Though, believe me, sometimes a voice in my head tells me I do.

In caring for each other, we will challenge each other's choices and thus, values. And while, there must be a peaceful medium between hands-off neglect and judgmental control, I do not claim to know where it is.

And so I wrestle with the Lord and His ultimate purposes for others and myself while in between those two places. I wrestle with people who are right all the time and those who can't make a decision. And I have no hard and fast answers. These are just things on my mind these days. But I still want to know.

Separation Anxiety

2011-07-17T21:33:00.000-07:00

I dropped my daughter off at camp this week.

She's 8. It was the first time she was going to an all day event. It was only 5 days long.

But sure enough, day 2, I dropped her off on my own. No family in tow, just her and I. I kissed her sweet braids and she trotted off (she's has the funniest, floppy run. this one'll never be an athlete). I went back to the car. Lonely. I went grocery shopping. Lonely. I bought more treats that I usually allow. Lonely. John noticed the treats and figured it all out.

I reflected like I haven't reflected before. Probably because I haven't had that much quiet before. I saw each of my little ones getting more independent as they get older. Then the day where they love some stranger more than they love me or their dad, for the first time. They'll marry that stranger and then my job will be....over.

I mean, I get that it won't be OVER over. Just different. But, let be honest, it'll be over. Being mom is my job. I love this job. I have other passions and callings that will probably become more of a primary focus at that point, but still. That's a big transition.

So, for a while there, I missed my little ones. And their little kisses, hugs and affections. I missed their little laundry and the way they fit on my lap.

Camp's over. She's back. I HAVE little ones now. But I was grateful for the vision of the future to help me live very much in my today.

I Forgive You

2011-06-28T16:29:00.000-07:00

I don’t know what it is. Getting older. Having children. Or something else just outside the reaches of my comprehension. But more and more these days I’m quickly reaching the end of my shiny façade and facing the desert of what I am not.

I have a sin-nature.

I know that you’re probably thinking, “get in line, Patsy McPityParty”, but let me expound. If I pause, I can almost see my sin nature. Like a grumpy old lady. Like Debbie Downer meets the Cat Lady from the Simpsons. She’s snarky with a raspy voice. Probably from decades of smoking…metaphorically speaking.

And since today’s episode is about forgiveness, I’ve given you that background so that when I use a phrase like “forgive yourself” you can see her exaggeratedly mimed violin-playing, and her voice saying, “Go sell your snake oil somewhere else, Dr Phil!”

I was minding my own business in church, right? I was in and out with the baby. I was only catching the highlights of the message and none of the more interesting nuances – half listening. There is an altar call regarding unforgiveness.

Me: “I’m cool on this.”

There is lingering and its not moving on very quickly. So I have a quick chat with HS (Holy Spirit) making myself available to whatever He may want to show me about unforgiveness. Because, in general, I’m a good girl and I try.

So here’s what happens: it starts quietly and gently with…why can’t I get over what that person did? I can’t even seem to hang out with them anymore. I can’t even be in a conversation about them without the conscious choice to hold back mean words.

But I’ve prayed about forgiving them. I’ve tried. And its not working. In other words, I’m so angry with them I can hardly be around them. Why?

In the lingering altar call people get up and share promptings from the Holy Spirit. I hear someone mention “taskmaster”. And I think about the taskmaster in my head that criticizes me at every turn. So I run down a list of authority figures in my life. Is it their voice? Nope. It’s a tormentor. Like a spirit. Like a religious/control spirit or something.

Then I realize that its not a religious/control spirit. At least not one outside of me. Its me. I’m my taskmaster. When I do something careless, I can’t let it go. I don’t like me. I’ve said about myself, “I can’t stand me sometimes.” It was in the form of a joke, but it doesn’t make it less true.

And maybe the first time I was stung by criticism it was from an authority figure or someone I respected. Maybe I heard it first from someone else. But no one is saying it to me now. No one is verbally abusive to me. Except me. Even if it had begun somewhere else, I had taken the reins now.

I was my cruel taskmaster.

So I got prayer. I joined a line of other people who were asking for prayer in this area and just dialogued with the Holy Spirit. In this case I didn’t have to do anything weird or tell all my stories. I just received prayer and forgave myself and gave me grace to be me. I felt warmth all over me and then I felt full of love.

I felt ok with my weaknesses. But mostly I was glad to realize that I now loved dearly those ones that I had struggled to even be positive toward.

Now I haven’t put a lot of scripture in here to support my experience. And while I’m still not into Christian Self-Help, I gotta tell you: freedom from bondage feels good.

Living Like An On Call Firefighter

2011-06-24T11:18:00.000-07:00

As Disney's Johnny Appleseed can attest to "Oh, the Lord is good to me..."

This week my 8 and 5 year old homeschool shut-ins have followed Daddy to his summer art class job. He has the precious (and monetary) opportunity to teach elementary age children at a local performing arts school/non-for profit. Just two hours a day having fun with Modern Art techniques (I think, I get the eras mixed up sometimes. He's saying things like "Pop Art" and "Lichtenstein" and no one should ever have to spell that.)

When they get home, I hear about their new friends and how much fun they're having. John comes home busting with pride at our children. This is the equivalent of them taking interest in the "family business". They are having so much fun and I'm so happy for them.

....Oh, what am I doing with all that time? Nice of you to ask.

I'm bored. I'm home alone with the baby. I mean, we ARE laughing, napping and cudding a lot together which, honestly, I really don't mind because this guy is so friendlly that sometimes I feel I need to remind him, "listen fella, I'm your favorite person, remember?" But its very remniscient of having a first baby. We're glued together until he naps and then I scramble around doing everything I have to do at a furious pace at which I drop it all becasue he's crying. When did I get so bad at this again?

I had to try to take a shower twice yesterday. And by that I mean, I got in, got soaked, did 2 of the 50 things I do (don't judge, its only a rough estimate), whereupon the baby began to cry (yes, I take every opportunity to use the word "whereupon") and I had to get out, dry off and tend to him. I had already acively procrastinated this shower a day (or more, don't judge) and it took that much more will power to get back in later.

This week: food is not getting cooked. Laundry is not being washed. The house is not getting clean. Now, these don't automatically happen in my house anyway (don't judge, Jesus is watching you), but they are especially non existent this week. It could also be due to the fact that as soon my family walks in the door we are shoving food in our mouths WHILE shouting orders to get an activity bag together because we're late for the babysitter and all the full events this week WHILE we walk right back out the door. I agree, that doesn't help the disorder of my house.

But it sure does remind me a lot of when I was home alone with my first baby with the schedule and lifestyle of a Firefighter.

Mom, This Is For You.

2011-06-06T13:52:00.000-07:00

There’s a long-standing joke between my mom and my 4 sisters. She claims that we have never written anything about her. In all our years of composition classes and papers, she claims, we have never written a glorious ode to her virtues. I have proof that in preschool I wrote some very heartfelt things about her popcorn with my handprint on the back. But I don’t think this is what she’s talking about.

This year, unlike the past years, I spent Mother’s Day away from my mom. On its own, it shouldn’t have been a big deal. My mom doesn’t make a big deal out of the day; she’s not really into “Hallmark”. But for a variety of reasons, I spent Mother’s Day weekend away from my mom yet reminded of her at every turn. And so, the following is a brag sheet on my mom and how I walked into (and subsequently knocked myself out Three Stooges-style on) the bar she set as a mother.

I made a 4-hour car ride with my little family. John drove our van. I sat with the 7-month-old baby. Eight-year-old sister and 5-year-old brother played in the back seat.

- My mom (and dad) moved to Florida when the youngest were 7 and 8. That’s a car ride. But then there were car trips back and forth to visit family back in St. Louis. If that weren't enough, we moved to Guatemala when my baby sister was just under 3. We drove 3 cars through Mexico. It took 5 days. Subsequent trips got more efficient. We made the trip 4 more times through the years and got it down to 3 days through Mexico. THROUGH MEXICO! Ohmygosh.

I made dinners for 5 adults and 6 children during the trip. It took planning and forethought. Mostly, I asked my mom for her advice. (She said ‘crock pot’ and she was dead-on!) I impressed the others by trimming the fat off a roast.

- We moved a lot; to Florida, to Guatemala, to Moscow, to Jelgava, Latvia. Every time she would have to find the grocery stores. In the lesser-developed countries she would have to find several markets to get everything we needed. I know that Moscow was especially tricky. There was a meat store, a different bread store, a different home supply store, etc. And shopping was needlessly complicated (thanks, Communism). She could only shop for one day at a time and we didn’t have a car. So everyday she would get seriously bundled up and pull a rickety rolling cart over ice and snow to buy us food for our meals. What a nightmare. I can’t believe she did that. On top of it, they didn’t butcher meat the way we do, so she would buy a big hunk of meat, get educated on cuts and do her best dividing it up into different parts. Yeah, she ground our own beef. Because there was no ground beef. Just fill-your-table sized chunks of beef.

There were two families and the grown-ups were almost outnumbered. Order hung by a thread.

- My mom has incredible kid intuition! She has a gift from God for young children. She has background early childhood development and it shows. She’s the child whisperer. She instinctively knows how to respond to the varieties of children behaviors and she has decades of experience managing little persons. If things are starting to get hairy, she not only brings peace and order, but she’ll have them playing a game. For the past 18 years we’ve always had a grandbaby around and there’s only a 6-year gap between the youngest daughter and the oldest grandchild. She “gets” children. They’re never a nuisance, rather they’re tired, or hungry or just need some attention. She’ll have your kids eating out of her hand in no time. It’s a gift.

Overall, I don’t consider myself an exaggerator. I don’t feel that I flatter unduly. I tend to choose my words carefully so as to not say something I don’t mean. I won’t say the pants make you look fat, but I might compliment the design on the pockets instead.

All that to say, my mom’s the best.

To Whom It May Concern

2011-05-26T15:10:00.000-07:00

Dear Blog,
Hi. How are you? I'm doing well.

I'm sure you're all "you MUST be doing well considering how you've neglected me these past few weeks. Sheesh." You're right to be angry. Its been quite a while.

So this little note is to let you know that I'm making plans to catch you up on a few things. So, in the future, be ready to hear about My Mom, Forgiveness and Who Does John Think He Is?. And if we get through all that, then I'd love to talk more about Belief. That one really jumped out and surprised me.

Blog, I know this isn't an answer. This is chintzy at best. But we go back, Blog. I'm relying on the strength of our relationship to get us through this distance.

Yours,
Bizzy

My Weird (And Terrible) Story

2011-04-11T08:48:00.000-07:00

In my last blog A Gift and An Honor, I talked about my infant son and I mentioned having a weird story to share. Its not a funny story. It'll likely be long, but this one isn't about readability. Its something I need to tell.

*Deep Breath*
Have you ever done a Marketing Survey? The kind where you go to a business and they pay you for your opinion?

I'm on a calling/emailing list for a company and I've taken part in surveys on diapers, litigation, radio shows. The routine is always the same. You show up with a mob of other people, spend 3-4 hours answering a few rounds of questions, comment here and there, and that's it. You walk out with a check. Its clear to every paid participant that we are nameless and faceless; we're a demographic for an outside marketing company to practice their enticements upon. But I haven't gone back since the last one. I've been avoiding their potential $75 invitations.

When you arrive, you're not quite sure what the particular survey is about but the initial line of questioning that got your foot in the door is a good clue. This particular time it was an election year and based on the questions I had a pretty solid idea it was related to someone wanting to be elected.

I was in a really big group of men and women, young and old and practically every conceivable race. We were crammed into a little room where we watched a video of a political style debate. We each held a sliding, circular dial in order to dial in our negative and positive responses in 'real time'. A computer recorded our answers and matched them to our demographic.

The video was a little silly. There were actors that portrayed candidates. One guy was young and snotty with country accent. One was older, nonplussed and sophisticated. There may have been a woman in a pant suit - I don't remember exactly, but I'll never forget what they were talking about.

Abortion.

Mr. Country was snotty, pro-life and all about morality. Ms. Pant Suit was snotty, pro-choice and all about rights. Mr. Cool was sympathetic and for women's health. It wasn't hard to match these stereotypes to the candidates up for office at the time and I felt it was pretty clear who was paying for this survey.

Here's where it gets hard to proceed with the story:

Like many surveys, at the end of the group portion they might call a few to stay later and answer more specific questions. For once, I just wanted to go home. It was late. I was tired of thinking about someone campaigning with a pro-choice platform. I'm a homebody. I missed my little family. Keep your extra $50, send me home.

As you've probably guessed, they called my number to stay.

After all the shuffling around, I was left with a group of about 7 other women of different ages and races. We were just one of 4 groups of women to stay behind. We grab a snack, we make chit chat and get into a circle to talk. There is a camera behind our moderator. We are less anonymous.

And the moderator begins with "You were chosen to stay based on your responses as women who are pro-choice."

WHAT?! NO, I'M NOT! Should I say something and get out? How could they think that about me? My responses! Oh no. Am I? Am I too sympathetic? Am I not pro-life enough? I didn't know.

I looked at the faces of "pro-choice women". According to my prayers, my voting record and the conferences I frequent, I was solidly at enmity with the very thing that identified these women as a cohesive group. No matter what the dial said about me, I was not pro-choice, but I was surrounded by a discussion group that was unashamedly so.

My heart raced. We were all strangers. They didn't know me. They didn't know that I didn't belong. They didn't know that I was the enemy in this situation. Right or wrong, I didn't correct the moderator and leave the room. I was scared and dishonest. I kept quiet and resolved to keep out of the discussions but I wouldn't go so far as to lie - if asked I would give my real opinion.

First we talked about the different candidates. Easy. I could do that. We talked about how we felt about requiring abortion doctors to give a woman an ultrasound. Easy. Absolutely yes, each woman needs to know about her own body and be informed.

Then as the time went on I saw the conversation move, as women so often do, onto more personal ground. They began to speculate and say about what they would do 'if' their daughters were faced with an unwanted pregnancy. I looked in their faces while they told stories about friends driving their own daughters to the clinic. And moms telling their daughters that the girl has too many kids already and should get an abortion. They also told stories about friends refusing their daughters to get an abortion no matter what their much older boyfriend said he'd pay for. Mothers raising their daughter's kids.

Then I saw them talk about getting their own abortions. Here is where the moderator began to get uncomfortable. I don't think this is where she meant for it to go. There was one woman talking about it openly. As she talked about the degree of counseling and care a clinic offers, her flippant tone seemed to become more forced. Another woman admitted to getting an abortion, but it was so long ago she couldn't recall some details. To me, her face looked like she just didn't want to go there.

Oddly enough, it seemed that 'abortion' still felt like a dirty word even among these pro-choice women. But this wasn't an enthusiastic conversation for anyone. It wasn't a funny conversation. I got the impression that an abortion was not a first choice for any of them. I hurt for the women I saw around me who felt like they had no other choice but a bad choice.

The moderator steered it away after that. Her objectives were not about these women's stories, but about voting which is much more conceptual.

The group lasted about 45 minutes. More was said. I eventually had my moment to say that I would vote for Mr. Country because I agree with him more, though he was portrayed very snottily. And that was all I said. And it was over.

I walked to the parking lot, pulled out of my spot and drove as far as the next parking lot before I was crying so hard I couldn't see. I pulled over and cried some more. I had heard so much. I had looked in unashamed faces because they thought they were in a safe environment. I cried for them and their stories. I was conflicted and confused about myself. More crying.

I called my husband from the parking lot. I couldn't carry it alone for the car ride home. I told him everything I could remember. I told on myself. I asked him if he thought I had done the wrong thing. He said he couldn't give me a convinced 'yes' or 'no'. I felt the weight and chastisement of his answer but I understood.

That night is still hard to think about. But I'm putting it out there with its flaws and glories. I tried to not overly defend myself, but be honest to what was going on in the moment. I, absolutely, wish I could do it over. I probably still wouldn't take the opportunity to preach or make a scene, but I would acknowledge that I didn't consider myself pro-choice. I wouldn't trade their stories or faces for the world. I saw something very few people in my circle would ever see - candidness. I will never forget and will probably never stop wrestling with what happened.

A Gift and an Honor

2011-04-09T08:49:00.000-07:00

Oooohh!

I got so angry when I read the news today. I would quit 'news' altogether if I didn't think it would be irresponsible and an emotional cop-out. Good thing the baby cried and I had to leave and go look into his perfect little face. *selah*

Ahhh. Ok. His big brown eyes helped settle my soul. And I mean soul, as in, the seat of my will and emotions. That's where all the noisy fuss was coming from. My emotions get all stirred up and I slip out of the restful peace in my spirit (made possible by Holy Spirit) and I stand on my 'fist-fighting ground', my 'hold-my-gold ground', aka, my soul.

[A bit of advice: don't fight from there. You'll fight dirty. You won't listen to reason and your heart will harden a little in the process. Its Thunderdome and that's bad.]

Ah, flesh; ah, old man, when will you finally be under the authority of the spirit? But it must be. It must be overcome by my spirit.

Now, my sweet, open-faced, unashamed 6 month old is unreliable as a mechanism for my inner peace, but for today he fit the bill. I just can't help but feel connected to God and eternity and God's original intent with mankind when I see the face of my infant son.

And for that moment watching his face, it was all possible. All those jerks in the news, and all those jerks making the news will come and go. But this baby represented another generation coming that COULD make a difference if they so chose.

And while I entertained typical fears with my 1st daughter because of the ruin and lawlessness and suffering on the earth; I see in my 3rd son the possibilities of training up a generation in the love that is Jesus. And all they could change and all they could bring. My son is a gift and an honor.

Children are a gift and an honor.

- remind me to tell you a story of something that happened to me. its pretty weird.

*Selah = a biblical reference from the songs of Psalms. The writers would write in a "selah" in the songs to signify a musical break, like a rest.

Struck

2011-04-04T07:25:00.000-07:00

It begins and ends and is all about Jesus.

I'm struck again at its simplicity, its complexity, its beauty and how, bottom line, its all about this one man.

I was in a serious conversation with John. It was a typical just-in-from-school/work-catch-up. We were taking turns talking about what had happened during the day and weighing in on insights and things discerned.
John and I had decided a while back that life is equal to ministry. If we're walking through our day in places of darkness, we should be intentional about bringing the light of Jesus in visible and invisible ways. My parents were missionaries when I was younger, so we just treat it like that - being missionaries to wherever we are.

During a recent conversation we were weighing out certain...obstacles. We had mentioned work, school, our children, 'the church', local and national government - issues both personal and more abstract - and had not hit upon many hopeful situations. There seemed to obstacles as far as our eyes could see. Insurmountable obstacles. Obstacles due to the contrariness of the world to the ways of God. Destructive people. Destructive cultures. Destructive legislature. How would there be change if people didn't think there was anything wrong?

Typically, I feel this direction of thinking can be a bottomless pit. We look in as far as we can see, get overwhelmed by the vast darkness and then begin to throw in solutions as fast as we can. But I feel like I'm living in the days where the shiny and new solutions are now rusty and crumbly and overgrown and the people are cynical and hopeless and gun-shy of shiny and new solutions.

And while the impulse is to go to our bag for an even better, shinier, new solution it became increasingly clear - the only real solution is Jesus.

I need more of Jesus in me because I've been using faulty solutions in my home and in my children and I need real, lasting change in my home and children. The people we love need more of Jesus, not more ideas or books.

The kind of change we need, across the board, is the change that comes from the inside out and it comes when Jesus increases and we decrease - in every direction.

Renaissance: Art and Culture Reborn

2011-03-30T09:47:00.000-07:00

Alright, I have a roast simmering in the crock pot.

(Shredded Italian Beef: 3-5 lbs cheapy roast; 1 dry onion soup packet; 2 dry Italian dressing packets; 1-2 cups water. Toast some buns, top with white cheese. 8 hrs on low. Easy and yum!)

I have a fresh cup of coffee in my hands.

Baby is with bigger children who have already finished Math and Reading today. I'm ready to write.

To be fair and honest I should list all the things I'm not accomplishing by stopping to write (kitchen counter clutter, low on homemade baby wipes, never ending laundry issues) - pah! Onward!

My husband is wonderful and crazy. He is putting on a conference. (huhwhat?!)

I would be even more incredulous if he had not done this very same thing when I first met him.

Not long after I met John, who had bright pink hair at the time,(in his defense, he was an art major and the original color had been red before it washed out to a vivid PINK) he and some friends put on a worship conference for high school/college age Christians in the area. It spanned about 5 local churches and had a pretty good turn out (several hundred).

So I have this knowledge in my back pocket when he began talking about an arts conference over a year ago.

Plus, I get where he's coming from. He loves art. He loves making art, talking about art, teaching about art (his job) and seeing the fruit that comes with expression and art appreciation especially in the context of worship and intercession. But, unfortunately, he has found that many times in Non-denominational church circles he spends quite a bit of time building his case for the arts as valuable, important and practical NOW.

He talks to God about art. He has dreams about unity in the Christian artistic community. I can safely say that John has asked for and received a portion of God's heart and desires for the arts. Its beautiful to hear him talk about it. I get excited. But its too much to go into here.

So let me point you here.

And also here.

Go ahead and 'Like' the conference's fan page and it'll automatically keep you up with his updates and his heart and the scriptures he hears God speaking to artists in this very hour.

Its surprisingly easy and reliable - if you ask God to reveal to you His heart in an area, He will take you up on it.

Birth

2011-01-14T08:08:00.000-08:00

If you're a mom then you probably love a good birth story. I know I do. They tend to go long and into the details of what a mother was thinking at the time, etc., but you have to admit, as common as birth is, it still falls into the category of "mystery". I am so drawn to birth stories. I'm currently reading the birth stories of a dear friend and fellow blogger as she tells the birth stories from her 10 birth children (she has one adopted daughter, too, and you can also read her birth story on the blog). Its fascinating! Plus, isn't there a cable TV show that deals only in birth stories?

Well, I was wasting time on facebook yesterday when I came upon a note I wrote last year detailing Flint's birth. So, for posterity, I thought I'd include it here as well. Here you go:

Before we get started:

Disclaimer #1: Its a long read.

Disclaimer #2: I'm assuming that if you're even interested in reading a birth story that you're not put off by terms like "mucous plug", etc. Even so, fair warning.

These are the emails I sent to my mom and sisters Monday evening. I knew if I didn't pass on word, ANY WORD, regarding labor to the women of my family, NO MATTER HOW FALSE, that there would be dire results. So here's the emails:

"Had a rough night last night. Woke up with contractions through the night. I wasn't bothering to time them because I didn't want to know if they were close or not. My sleepy way of saying 'no!'.

They continued through the morning, going from 8-12 minutes apart. Some of them were doozies, too! John went to work (our prearranged plan, though it secretly made me mad at the time) and I laid on the couch sipping water and trying to get comfy enough to nap and wait and see what would happen. Around 11, I woke up from a nap feeling better with contractions noticeably further apart.

I'm dressed now, but we're skipping school today so I can do laundry and dishes in my sweet time. We have a bday party for Scout with Kathy [John's mom] tonight, so I'm trying to preserve cake and pizza making energy. I'm still feeling a few contractions (30-45 min apart), both gentle and strong, but I'm hoping they go away and give me at least another week.

I'm chalking this bout up to bad nutrition, low water consumption and overall exhaustion from yesterday [wedding shower for my little sister followed by a big Sept. bday party for my side of the family]. They're valid reasons which is why I'm so relaxed about it. So, I'm doing lots of water today and trying to take it easy and saving the jobs that John can help with for when he gets home.

I'll see my midwife tomorrow at our appt. and I'll tell her about it and ask my questions, etc. Just thought I'd let you guys know.

Then 4 hours later I sent them this one:

"Well, the contractions have slowed down some more and definitely lessened in intensity. I drank a lot of water today and took another 1 1/2 hour nap this afternoon.

Then I lost my mucous plug!

So I called my midwife and she said to keep her posted, but it doesn't necessarily mean that things will happen right now. She said, especially in the case of "subsequent" births, there's a chance that my body might be going about it a chunk at a time, dilating a few cm at a time but still be 2 weeks away. That sort of thing shortens the eventual labor and delivery. So, I have my regular appt with her tomorrow and I'll catch up on birth supplies, etc. But it seems like he's coming earlier than the due date, doesn't it? (my feelings, not the midwife)

As rough as it would be on "my schedule", I'd be DELIGHTED for you, [older, out-of-town sister], if you could meet him while you're here.

Welp, I'll keep you posted, but I hope I have an uneventful week!

Well by 8 pm that night, after party festivities had settled down a bit, I was exhausted and wanted to go to bed. This time I chalked it up to...exhaustion from Sunday's parties and Monday's party. I felt bad for not being my best host to my mother-in-law. I had contractions through the evening and was walking around slowly, but still figured I just needed to rest.

That night I had contractions through the night again only this time they were strong enough that I needed to "vocalize" through them - aka, make noise. I would sleep in between, but by 6 I was done being in bed and just went to the couch to try and be my most comfy through the contractions.

I was still second guessing EVERYTHING. Two weeks just seemed too early. Who does that? So, John got up and we talked it out and decided to send him to work - his off days are precious so we didn't want to squander any. But as the time got closer to go to the midwife appt I decided that I didn't think it was a good idea to drive over so I called to tell her so.

Now, a quick nod to my mom - as I would text and phone to keep my family updated, I have to give her credit for telling me things like "I don't think you should even try to find a ride to your appt. She needs to come to you. I think you're in labor". And it was because of her insisting that I even had the midwife come to me.

Excerpts from our phone calls:

Mom:"If you're having contractions so strongly that you have to hang up with me, you probably need to take this seriously."

Sister:"You said your contractions are 7 minutes apart, but we've been on the phone for 4 minutes and you've had two."

Little Sister was on her way to drive me to my appt, but with my mom's advice it she instead picked up my children to go back to my Mom's. The midwife was coming over and I texted John to come home - and I still was in denial about being in real labor.

Little Sister left with my little ones. Scout was crying when she left - she was just feeling a little unsure and nervous. The midwife arrived 15 minutes after they left. As soon as she walked in the door, she began unpacking her bags and putting up her birthing stool (gasp!). She checked my vitals and I asked her if she thought it was the real thing - she chuckled and said 'yes'.

Then started a frenzy of calling John and asking him to pick up the last minute supplies I didn't already have on hand.

Me: "Honey, I didn't have breakfast yet and [midwife] suggested apple juice. Can you pick up some apple juice?"

John: "Some what?"

Me, getting a contraction: "APPLE JUICE!"

Until John came home I was the only one to show Midwife where things were, so I would slowly go to the basement and get the Chux Pads, peri bottles, etc. [Thank you Paige. Thank you Sarah]. Then 15 minutes after Midwife arrived, John came home and I would just sit and labor while they scurried all around me.

15 minutes after that I told Midwife that the baby and contractions felt really low and she asked if I wanted to try the birthing stool. So I went ahead and 'sat' on the stool. I began to feel very unsure and asked if she would tell me when to push and she just said, "you'll know". And pretty much the pushing began after that. I called John over to stop doing whatever he had been doing and Oldest Sister walked in shortly after that. She was there for Justy and is an irreplaceable support person.

It felt like forever. In retrospect, it felt like transition emotions and labor were all rolled into one. I was so emotional and hated every contraction. I was whining and saying how it hurt. I was apologizing for the whining. I wanted to be stronger. Midwife wasn't rushing this part either. She would take the times I would push and alternately apply olive oil and a warm compress, as well as massage and stretch out...whatever it was she was stretching. And it hurt, too. I even asked her at one point between pushing, "what are you doing!?".

Eventually, my emotions got the better of me and in between contractions I couldn't settle myself down. I was breathing erratically which was making me even more nervous and emotional. But right about that time Midwife said that if I reached down I could feel the baby's head, so I did. Oddly enough, it was squishier than I expected. But then I knew, only one more push. And sure enough, the next time a contraction came, I pushed with enthusiasm and 'bloop, bloop', she was handing me my son!

He was noisy and mad from the get go! Feisty guy! And I was elated, but I'll be honest, it was equal parts 'that terrible pushing is done' and 'my son is in my arms'. All the events are blurry after that. He was tiny and skinny. I laid down on a nearby bed that John and the midwife asst. moved into the living room and rested with the baby while they all did other things. A bit later they helped me get to the shower and clean up.

I felt great. Sure, some of that was adrenaline, but also I wasn't working against medication and, due to Midwife's patient work, I didn't tear at all. I was hungry and ate. My sisters brought their families over right away, which I love! My children were home by dinner time and some of us even stayed long enough for pizza and a movie together. These are a few of my favorite things and one of the real perks of homebirth for me.

I don't have many pictures of our first minutes. It all happened so quickly that pictures were one of the things that fell through the cracks. But my mom has some good ones that I'll steal eventually. I also threw in a picture of a birthing stool because I know I was curious before I saw one, but never thought to ask.

example of a birth stool

first visitor, Dad, and my beautiful labor supporters: big sister and John.

siblings

"No regrets" is dumb

2010-12-02T10:38:00.000-08:00

I'm jealous of Misty Edwards dreads.

They're nice skinny dreadies. I noticed her try this a year or so ago but it wasn't long before she had straight hair again. I can only imagine she (gasp!) brushed them out - YOW! But a while ago I noticed the tell tale signs of hair back and surprisingly thick and knotty (I'm looking through non-HD, streaming video after all). AH! The dreads were back and now they are looking pretty good making a spastic bun just beneath her snazzy hat ensembles. A standing ovation to her tenacity and bold hair fashion.

I have a long standing love of dreads. In moments of (itty bitty, teensy weensy) identity crisis I have found myself researching the how-to of dreadlocks along with pictures that would show the nice, respectable skinny version I would, of course, employ. Its part of a greater, deeply rooted attraction to grungy hippies. Back in Guate, there was this lake, Lake Atitlan, that German hippies seemed to really like. They weren't the I'm-in-college-and-trying-things-out hippies, they were lifers with little hippie babies that only wore swim bottoms no matter what gender they were. And, here's the icing on the cake, they literally lived in their VW van on the shore of this gorgeous lake. Ah, memories you could hug!

There is one big reason why I don't have dreads and that one big reason is John. I have asked over and over what he'd think about dreads on me and he always gives me a firm thumbs down. He doesn't like the look. I have very straight, very slick (uncooperative) hair so I can see why such a drastic switch would be unappealing to him. And, frankly, it bodes well for me to cooperate with my husbands likes and dislikes - if I'm betting on this marriage to succeed, I'd better cooperate, you know what I'm saying?

I don't have Misty Edwards knock out dreads because of my husband. But lets take it a step further. I don't write Misty Edwards knock out songs, in part, due to her overwhelming amounts of time alone with God and His presence; her great amount of time practicing her craft and ultimately because I'm not Misty Edwards.

I think when people say they have "No Regrets" that its dumb. Seriously, dumb person? You wouldn't change anything you did or decisions you made? Maybe they intend a greater, more existential tone of "even my bad decisions have taught me lessons so I therefore don't regret them". Still. No. There's not a relationship that you marred that you wish you could fix? Yeah, I don't get the "No Regrets" thing.

I have thought twice about my decisions, even down to marriage and children. I don't think that's odd to reflect on the past and weight and consider what could have been. But, frankly, I don't linger there long. My path of marriage and children has certainly closed doors to me that would have otherwise been open, but the upside is so above and beyond any career success or financial gain.

I have the truly priceless reward of marriage. I never knew how real love could be or how much it could change a person. I am very often in awe of what John and I have, its so far beyond anything I could have wished for. I have the great joy of being 2 inches from the face of a baby watching all the micro expressions that happen in the constant movement. But even better its MY baby. The first time I saw first daughter, I thought, "you're familiar". WOW! Marriage and family is a greater miracle than I can explain - you just have to experience your own.

This is what I have instead of dreads and really high selling albums (and the money that goes with that). I used to wish a husband for Misty Edwards. I wished she could really experience on earth all the things she sings about. But we need what she has by having an abundance of time and spending it on Jesus and the fruit that brings. And the earth needs the quirky little redeemers that John and Bizzy can make. I'll keep what I have.

Weird Confession

2010-12-01T13:27:00.000-08:00

There is a place where, whenever I go there, I'm swept into adoration of God and thankfulness.

And that place is my shower.

Its weird, and I don't argue that point.

There's even a song that find myself singing when I'm in there: Jan Krist's "Wing and a Prayer", which admittedly is a little odd since I haven't had my hands on the song for more than a decade. Its this acoustic guitar, folk song that my older sister sent to me on a mix tape when I lived overseas as a kid along with some Bonny Rait. To this day its more than a little outside my current 'likes' genres. But it grew on me then and apparently stuck.

I think it has something to do with the shower being one of the few places I have of complete personal and mental privacy. I sing in the shower, too; really sing. Sometimes I just gush out my feelings without bothering to try and remember if any of it is any good and to write it down later. And sometimes I purposely let the moment be an exclusive offering - something that will only live before the Lord in that moment and never be for anyone else's ears.

But its not something I intend to happen. Shower time is all function and business until I find myself caught up in moment awash, pun intended, with gratitude and I find my spirit leaping and worshiping. I mean, I only just started noticing this.

I think I've created an altar of worship in my shower. I'm serious.

I know this because I used to have a similar connection when I was in highschool (in Guatemala) to a window in my bedroom where I would often take time to pray and connect with God before I went to bed. Eventually, over time, all I would have to do was posture myself at my window and all the lightness of worship would come over me before I had even consciously turned my will, heart or mind to prayer and I would just sit in the sweetness of the companionship of heaven. I began to wonder, at the time, if I had so soaked the spot in my prayers that it the residue of worship just lingered all the time.

I have even wondered in my more present tense if there was a spot that I could choose to cultivate as my "place" just like the window had been. Well, it seems I have happened upon a location already. I can't exactly read my Bible there, nor can I stay there for very long, but I'm grateful for any spot in my home/workplace that has that "lightness" of an open heaven.

But it just feels a little funny to use the term "open heaven" in reference to my shower. *shaking head* Life is weird.

The New Normal

2010-11-01T07:36:00.000-07:00

John and I knew back in January that this year would end up much differently than it began.

Back in January we said "yes" in our hearts to John getting his Masters Degree. A few days later we found out that after years of trying that we were pregnant. When John asked if we should put off the schooling in light of the new demands of a baby, it seemed to clear to me that the baby was further affirmation of a season of fruitfulness. We should just say "yes" to it all.

It seemed that we were in such a season of favor. In other words, all our prayers were being met with "yes" and our endeavors were met with esteem and cooperation from others. The events of those days and weeks were so vivid that it defined the term favor for us. I even formed a hypothesis about seasons of favor. From now on, when we find ourselves in seasons of favor we'll say 'yes' to whatever comes our way. That was the impetus behind us picking up two very weighty endeavors of Masters Degree and baby though both were expected at the same time.

I anticipated (and wrote about) then what I'm living out now - The New Normal.

All the beautiful structures and schedules that worked for me so fluidly, I have reluctantly put in the trash. I actually tried to make our old schedule work for a while. Wake up, get dressed, breakfast, Math, History, lunch....you get the idea. Its not hard to see why that isn't working so well with an infant in the mix. I have the honor to effort a new kind of order in my home. So my homelife needs a new normal.

My beloved John began teaching at a new school this year. He moved away from a visual and performing arts middle school to a distressed-and-trying-to-recover high school. To be honest, he likes it, but it has required him to reconstruct all his lesson plans and learn a new attendance/grading program, as well as make the adjustment to new colleagues and leadership. That's a handfull. But now we're adding two nights a week of a brand new focus and area of responsibility. Its an adjustment, but he really loves the program, too. He gushes about it and I'm so happy for him to have something to gush about. He's lit up. And he'll stay lit up about it if I can remain supportive and not, for selfish and pouty reasons, make it a point of tension for us. *note to self: avoid selfish pouting about John's absence 'cuz it'll work out better for all of us. In other words, John needs to acclimate to his New Normal. And the family needs to acclimate to John's New Normal.

And then, just yesterday, we packed up my little sister and her new husband to make their move to Kansas City to join the International House of Prayer. The three youngest girls in our family have lived together the longest and this was a very hard good bye for us. While so happy for their bright future, because they're sure to find success and favor there, it is a stark change. My family has a habit of Sunday lunches together at my parent's house. Its life giving and endearing for the daughters. My little sister was always the main schemer to get everyone over to the house when she lived at home. But her room is empty now and will soon be converted into an office (somewhere my mom is cheering!). Lunches and visits to my parent's house just won't be the same. We'll find a New Normal there, too.

So. I'm counteracting the spinning in my head by beginning to reorganize here at home. I'm coaching myself away from panic and toward a more productive outlet - beginning the process. I'm not sure it even matters what process I'm beginning.

I believe that processes and journeys just need to be begun in order to prompt the cooperation of our Heavenly Father's joining. Its when we knock that He opens the door. Its when we call that He answers. Its when we step onto the path that His word becomes the lamp to our feet. And so, on that principle, I will put our school books in a more readily reached spot to prompt school whenever it can happen. And in the snatches of time that I have, I'll play my old, sour note piano to more readily find Him and His songs here in the privacy of my home.

I'm reluctant but obedient to find the New Normal.

In a season of favor, keep saying 'yes'.

Flint

2010-10-25T12:09:00.000-07:00

I don't know how I haven't learned my lesson - and yet I plow into these circumstances over and over with my eyes looking who knows where and missing the point of the season until it makes contact, like a 2 X4, with my consciousness.

I had my son 3 weeks ago. The minute we knew we were pregnant, I knew what the greatest name would be for a potential boy:

C. (Charles) Phinneas Flint Grapperhaus

Unlike my other children, that name could belong to a lawyer OR a rock band. I had nailed it. I was convinced and I could start filling out the birth certificate right away. My husband, having equal right to name the child, retorted:

"C. Phinneas Flint sounds like a prospector's name!"

As if that weren't bad enough he went into a dramatic monologue in what I can only assume is an old prospector's voice about a fictitious hermit gold miner named C. Phinneas Flint. I admit, it was pretty good and I laughed really hard. It was hard to be hurt or mad when his opinion was delivered in such a way. Plus, his own middle name is Jeremiah and if that's not a prospector's name then I don't know what is!
"No one sees Old Jeremiah 'cept for the once a year he comes inta town for some hard tack. Some say he's struck it rich and he's hiding it somewhere's up thar." Booyah! You got served, John!

Well, all that to say the name Flint remained and thus our son was named. But here's the catch - when one decides to make intercession a main part of what they do....or is it, when one acknowledges the intercessory calling on all believers...or is it, when one realizes that ALL THINGS are working to pull us closer to the Father and into the yoke of His son....
Anyway, the point is, that the Biblical significance that led us to name our son Flint has been creeping up in our life.

Flint: a stone used historically as a sharp edged tool. Also used in reference to Jesus setting his face "like flint" toward Jerusalem. And so, we purposefully chose the themes of covenant, consecrations (Abraham, Old Testament) and whole-hearted purpose (Jesus, New Testament).

These themes began invading our real life with planning Flint's circumcision. Now, circumcision is something we had to delve into with our first son. Do we or don't we? We weighed the medical aspects but, for us, it came down to the spiritual significance, tradition and heritage. A covenant with God Himself. Glorious poetry! The eventual act of circumcision was traumatizing. I wasn't in the room, but I was just outside the room with our daughter. It was 20-30 minutes of gut wrenching pain...FOR ME, outside the room! My poor husband was in the room with our 8 day old son and the doctor - John talks about the near faint he had in the room. Typical of circumcisions, our infant son was strapped to a board, clamped for a period of time and cut. It took forever. He screamed forever. It was awful.

How could God ask something so awful of the people He loved? I was puzzled. I experienced circumcision to be painful with a relatively low positive return. What's the point of that? I mean, for someone who mandates Leviticus to a group of people, why further burden them with a debilitating and excruciating experience. And what does that mean about God? I was beginning to accept a theology of pain. Life will be hard. All life's "seasonings" can't be sweet. Rain is as useful as sunshine, etc..

We had our son at home which makes somethings more complicated, like circumcision. We were referred to a Rabbi. I put it off for as long as I could but eventually called on Flint's 16th day. The Rabbi made the appt for that night - apparently not only is it wise to wait until the 8th day, but its also wise to not put if off much past that. I cried off and on all day. I apologized to my sweet. innocent son. I just didn't understand why.

As I hung up with the Rabbi, he referred me to his website so I can have the supplies I'd need for the baby over the next few days. Pain again. I hated thinking about this. Ok. Time to get ready for the hard thing.

Reading through his website. Wow. All the things I hated about circumcision wouldn't be involved. I mean, sure, my son's skin would be removed, but "When using a reliable Mohel, one need not worry as our procedure takes less than 20 seconds and is performed, as required by Jewish law, with minimal discomfort to the baby."

Seriously?! The law requires that its done with minimal discomfort? This was something I needed to apply to my struggle with God's personality. Something else unique to the "holistic circumcision" was that our son was held by "warm, loving hands" - while Flint lay on a pillow, John held Flint's legs back for the minute of the procedure and Flint was then immediately swaddled and comforted and given to mom. Another interesting fact from this experience is that the most painful aspect of this particular procedure is the initial separation of the skin, not the final cut.

Ah ha. Peace flooded my heart. I felt safe again with my Father God. God was proving His loving heart to me. Though life can be painful, I am held in his warm, loving hands the whole time. His grace is the pillow beneath me, His hands upon me and the embrace just after the painful moment. Not only that but the initial separation from my flesh, unholy desires, comfort measures or even the anticipation of these things is probably more painful that even the cutting away of these things. Even Jesus had his painful moments. The cross was part of Jesus' destiny.

So pain is part of life and God may even ask me to walk a path of pain, but I believe I can rely on His heart of comfort and tenderness to be present. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. Your rod and your staff comfort me."

Then there are the secret and unseen ways my heart has been pricked over and over by the Lord through recent everyday circumstances to speak to me regarding having a set apart heart and life. Ah, it goes on and on.

And so I find that in the process of naming my son Flint, I have been challenged by these very themes internally and externally. And I thought I was just picking a name, not inviting a parable to invade my life.

a.k.a heart surgery

2010-08-06T08:00:00.001-07:00

I haven't posted much. Mainly because I'd think of the last posting (about the van) which would make me sad and wonder what I could possibly talk about? What has been happening since then - only the elaborate emotional journey into what I've always believed to be true about God, His character and His heart being challenged in this little chapter of our life? Its undoubtedly been very meaningful to John and I and our lives will forever bear the marks of the experience - but it makes for slow reading.

Until last night. Midnight last night to be specific.

But it was about 46 days:
- 46 days of driving around the corner to arrive home and looking to see if our van had reappeared as mysteriously as it disappeared.
- 46 days of jumping at every phone call in the hope that its the police. It wasn't. For 46 days.
- After a month, we canceled the insurance, and died a little.
- For 3 weeks we prayed every Monday morning (the day it was stolen) just before dawn on our street where the car was stolen to bring our petition before the Lord and ask for His justice. (thank you to our dear strategic intercession friend's counsel and advice)
- hope turns to hurt. hurt turns to questions. questions start teetering on blame and ultimately that leads to rethinking what we've believed to be true of God. That starts heading into some very "Job" territory. At least I had Job's experience to teach me not to complain and make demands of God but instead to appeal and ask Him to reveal Himself to me.

a.k.a Heart surgery.

We will be drawing lessons from this for our lives and the lives of others forever. God only knows.

Emotional Roller-Coaster Bootcamp Intensive

2010-07-06T14:09:00.001-07:00

I am in the midst of quite an adventure.

There is a group of about 150 people from 17 different states taking part in a 21 day fast (is that enough numbers for you?). And its all going down in our prayer house.

Its pretty wild. A lot of the out-of-towners are sleeping in the building. Most of them are single, but there are quite a few families with little ones in tow.

They're praying all day in cycles. They meet as a group every afternoon and there's an 'open to all' service every night.

AND THEY'RE FASTING!

John is in it to win it along with the rest of them, though sleeping at home and taking the occasional day off so we can remember his face and why we love having him around.

I am keeping up with life as best I can, while trying to make as many of the evening meeting as I can. We're still doing school every day as well as doubling what we're trying to get done. (yes, I know - lunacy) Part of the reason is to finish up what we started late and the other part is to have them in a good place should we take a bunch of time off in Oct. when the baby arrives.

And so keeping up with life...isn't going great. The clutter is building up. We don't have milk and the trip to the store keeps getting pushed back. Baths are getting pushed back....

But we're exhilarated! We're hearing some of the most astounding stories and getting super-charged with faith. As well as being sunk to the depths to hear about the depravities of sin and its reach even into our own home. Meeting cool people then finding out later who they are in the spirit - "oh my gosh, that's them?! I just talked to them yesterday!"

An emotional roller-coaster bootcamp. So rewarding. So taxing. So refreshing. And starting to feel a little dizzy from it all.

But I'll be honest. I'm gonna be disappointed when its all over.

Met these people during the "Intensive". They were obviously very cool and interesting people. If they weren't fasting and then going home soon, I'd ask them to coffee. But then I found this video and got the fuller scope of who they were. Is it possible to be intimidated of someone after you've already met them?

just the coolest. Click here to see "trEd".

Song Expo: What Is The Natural

2010-06-30T10:38:00.000-07:00

Before 2008, before we were Gateway House of Prayer (GHOP), before two churches merged in order to give our HOP a home, we were meeting and having our 2 hour prayer sets in a church sanctuary.

It was at that time in the church sanctuary, near the end of our Tuesday 6-8pm set that What Is The Natural was born.

If Jacob was the slow, laborious way to write a song, What Is The Natural is the direct opposite. Jacob was weeks of Bible study with a Strong's Concordance followed by weeks of trying out varieties of chord progressions on the piano. What Is the Natural was born in 5 minutes.

It was the last 10 minutes of a set when a faithful intercessor named Moses came up and prayed from the Hall of Faith section of Hebrews. The chord progression we played behind him was left over from the previous song.

In KC antiphonal fashion, when he was done, it was the singers job to sing short phases that supported the theme he prayed. I was particularly inspired and gripped by the passage he read and the prayer he prayed that I just took over the singing myself.

"What is the natural when God is supernatural? I lift my eyes to the hills where my God comes from."

The singers picked it up and we repeated it a while. Then it felt like there was more to be sung or more that the Spirit wanted to say about this.

"Hallelujah, hallelujah, He will have His way."

And the more we meditated on this the more boldness grew in my heart which lead to the proclamation:

"And when the Lord comes out the seas will part before Him. And when the Lord comes out the mountains will move from His way."

After that, it was time to wrap up the set, so we hopped off the stage and I didn't leave the room before writing down everything that was sung and the chords behind it.

Its been a few years now, but I'm still encouraged by that song.

Coming down after a crazy night...

2010-06-29T22:02:00.000-07:00

Just a quick stream of thoughts, here on the end of a sweet night of raucous worship.

My favorite worship is the place where a whole room of people are dancing in abandon, shouting themselves hoarse and taken away in the Spirit. I would choose it more often if I could, but I haven't found a way to assure these results! (nor is it always the time, I get that)

And I'm not looking for reckless worship for the sake of recklessness. That's called youth or hype or even immaturity. But to have a room full of people forget about life outside of the room for a while and be so engaged and so full of an expression of God that they have to pour it back out...that's dynamite!

I like a good roar. I like coming away from the night hoarse because my internal pressure got to be too great and it was completely ok to shout it out. I like singing loudly until my voice takes on a Janis Joplin feel. I know, I know, its very bad practice and any voice people out there will give me solid and correct reasons to avoid that degree of vocal chord damage....but its exciting! And while I won't practice such behavior, I'd certainly like to reserve the right to rock my voice out a few times a year.

I like the point where I feel that breaking out some gestures will go totally unnoticed. I'm sitting at the piano bench right now, due to my 6 months pregnant body, but tonight, I let my arms just go for it. I think I all but flapped my arms like a bird. Ah, its helpful for me. I'm already an expressive person anyway. It didn't matter that my sweaty state could only mean trouble for anyone who could see my underarms...in retrospect, yikes.

I even did a little 'Kim Walker' style emoting during singing. She's a big 'Ha ha!'-er. Tonight was a little of that and some 'Yeah!' and some tribal singing in tongues. It was a blast.

So why all the attention on the fool I made of myself?

It was my "ark returning to Jerusalem" type moment - where "undignified" becomes "abandoned worship". A moment when being overcome by the Spirit happens to look like clapping, shouting, spinning and roaring and yet only as a result of being overcome by the Spirit.

Thank you, Holy Spirit. I was hoping you'd make the evening your own and I think you did. I like co-operating with you and would like to keep collaborating in the future.

Love and Stolen Cars

2010-06-22T07:28:00.000-07:00

I've realized something about myself. I've turned into an intercessor.

Can you believe that through all my involvement in our House of Prayer (a location which exists only to stand as an altar of worship like Jacob found in Bethel in Genesis and join that with prayer that echoes the heart of God in order to speedily enact His loving ways on the earth)...the image that still comes to mind when I envisage an intercessor is an older woman with a lot of time on her hands who can pray for a long time? Wow.

The point being, I still only associate intercession with the singular trait of prayer. When, as I well know, the fuller definition is found in Ezekiel 22:30 when God shares His heart and says:

"I looked for a man among them who would build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land so I would not have to destroy it, but I found none."

I've known this. Or at least, I've been aware of this for years. My father had this scripture on his wall since I was young. Its a memorable passage because its a provoking passage. Its heartbreaking. In just a few words, we hear God's very own hope for redemption being crushed by the neglect of men.

And it seems easy enough, too, right? Just "build a wall" and "stand" in between God and the fallenness in the land that is separating Him from us, the ones He wants to be near.

So we proceed to try and fulfill this scripture and then find we're missing a critical element. There's the matter of receiving the burdens of God's heart. Without it, we won't stay in the gap on behalf of fallen people with their rotten choices, and as a result, their cursed land. We realize that in order to fulfill God's simple desire to restore and not punish, we have to feel in our very breath and bones WHY He doesn't want to destroy them. The 'why' is what makes us stay in the uncomfortable inbetween place - one foot in the best of heaven and one foot in the worst of earth.

To me, that sounds like the life of Jesus. He volunteered to walk on the earth in the frail frame of men. He built up a wall that gave clear distinction between False Life and True Life; walked 33 years in the uncomfortable gap between heaven and earth; then gave the ultimate worship to his Father by dying on the cross so the entire future of mankind could be spared. And now, he is in heaven at the right hand of the Father and is called the Great Intercessor where he continues to make intercession for us now having purchased through his life on earth the proper footing to stand in our defense.

SO WHY DID MY VAN GET STOLEN?!?!

....is at least what I want to ask.

Part 2:

I'm walking out the door, in a rush, on my way to meet John at the House of Prayer. I have my bags and children in tow as well as an additional bag of their activities. Our special service for the evening doesn't offer childcare, but we're all bringing our children anyway because these sessions are so compelling.

The chaos of one mommy getting children out the door is in full swing and as I turn from locking the front door to the street (where we park our car)....I don't see it. I don't see the van.

*heart drops* no no no no.

I called John to confirm which van he drove in as if it mattered since neither of our two cars are parked on our street. The call is just...*sigh*...me avoiding the truth that our van has been stolen.

Our nice van. Our just-paid-our-tax-money-to-buy van. Our every-time-we-get-in-we-thank-God-for-such-a-nice-van van. Our only-car-with-air-conditioning van. I mean, I was just unloading our sleeping children from that van last night.

Well, back to earth, the children need to be managed. They were planning on getting in a car, too. So the activity bag is put to use with a short "never mind, guys, we're gonna be here for a bit" from mommy. As they play on the porch, I move to the more pressing matters that need my attention.

I struggled, and I mean knock-down-drag-out brawled, against screaming emotions that would feel soothing yet accomplish nothing. I was alone with this problem and the only one who could respond to it properly. Sure, there were several phone calls to John to tell me what to do but I was on the scene and had to be a big girl. I went back and forth. It was a lot like having the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other!

Big, cleansing breaths.

I stepped inside the house for a minute of solitude and cried. I knew the choices I made in these first moments were the most critical to my spirit and soul. I turned my face to God and told Him (and myself) that He is good. There is no meanness or spite found in Him. That He is king of everything created and I am His child. That I know He didn't take my van nor did He want the van to be taken. When we bought the van we gave it to Him and thanked Him for the chance to steward such a nice van.

"And now, King of Creation, don't let Your enemies prevail against You and Your property. Release the desires of Your heart to restore what has been stolen from You."

It hit me then that I was hurt. My feelings were hurt. I was giving my time, my life, my energy....my everything to be in the House of Prayer for this city - the same could be said for my whole family. I had asked for God to show me His own heart and feelings for this city so I could pray effectively and stand with Him. And as I opened up my heart to feel and understand a little more of what He loves about this place and these people, I found myself falling in love with Her. And now this is how She repays me.

I could feel more acutely the pain of Hosea (read that book in one go - its beautiful redemption!). Or how personal it must have felt to Jesus who never rejected anyone he ever encountered - who held the secrets to the freedom of the universe - and yet no one seemed to see him for who he really was and he was met with rejection over and over.

They invested themselves in lives of intercession, not just the act of intercession, but because of love. Real love. Not conceptual love or the idea of love, but felt love.

That's when it hit me. One foot in the best of heaven and one foot in the worst of earth.

Congratulations, you've started living a life of intercession.

Ouch. But I'm still in.

what goes through my head.....

2010-06-19T08:41:00.000-07:00

When I sit down at the piano to lead worship on a Sunday morning, a similar line of thought goes through my head each time. Its like this:

"God, we need you. Whether or not everyone in the room is acutely aware of how desperately we need you, we do. Awaken hearts this morning to your greatness. Bring in an experience that reminds us of how great you are and let the world and its desires fall into the shadows. Come and touch each person with Your touch that dispels darkness, lies, sickness, misunderstanding and hard heartedness. Heal people this morning. Give them an encounter with Your glory that changes them. Let truth arise in each one and make wrong things right."

Since I'm so comfortable in my little church, sometimes I just pray all that (and more) out loud over the beginning of the song. I have a patient team because that prayer time can get a little long. I don't mind, though, and I haven't been corrected yet. Sometimes I feel like the lingering in prayer may just help people transition out of the tasks of Sunday morning (get kids to Sunday School, catch up with so-n-so, get seats, etc.) to the relationship portion of the morning.

To me, Sunday morning worship is the embrace of the morning and its a waste to blow such a beautiful and healing moment on distraction. Its corporate adoration and there's just nothing else in my life that is like that. In fact, for me, Sunday morning church is like having a coffee date with God as well as all my favorite people.

Now, I still can stress out about a set list and getting a team on the same page and whether or not the congregation responded to the song last time, etc. I feel these are the practical details that must be considered. But through it all, I feel that all we really need to do is encounter Him in each of our hearts where He'll deliver just what we need.

He's so good and I really love what I do.

Light at the End of the Tunnel

2010-04-24T14:30:00.000-07:00

October of 2008 was when the conversation began about putting all the songs together in/on one place. And now, over a year and a half later, we've hit the final stages.

This week I will send in the money, artwork and cd and in 3 weeks time....it'll be done.

Done.

And with that final step, a door will close on the stage of life I've held since my son was born almost 5 years ago.

Its more than just the cd. The cd just seems to be the final paragraph in the greater chapter of this story.

About 5 years ago, my son was born. When he was a month old, I attended a woman's retreat during which, through a surprisingly benign series of events, I was delivered of a mute spirit that had been quenching me in worship (!!). Shortly thereafter, I joined my church's worship team again and began to play piano again and was soon leading a team.

Around that same time, our church opened up a small prayer room where people would sign-up and commit to fill a certain time slot with their presence, worship and prayer. The tiny room contained a cd player, butcher paper on the walls with art supplies, a small keyboard and a sound system. If you committed to fill a time slot, all you had to do was arrive...and lock the door behind you for safety!

Since our children were so little, John and I took turns committing to 2 hours a week. It was precious. I loved (and struggled with) being totally alone in quiet and just being real before God. And that's where the songs started - as I groped my way through 2 hours with my racing mind and the company of the Holy Spirit.

About a year later, our little prayer room needed to be used again as commercial space and so it ended. And with that outlet gone, my dad brought me in to help in the Gateway House of Prayer here in St. Louis. And that's where the story hangs out for a while. Worship in World View Community and the Gateway House of Prayer.

Until Now.

Things began "snowballing" in the Grapperhaus house this January. It begins with a phenomenal story of John following the leading of the Lord to return to school and get his Masters degree in Arts Leadership and Management (its such a great story, maybe he'll soon tell it here). While we are starting to take steps toward this open door we find out that we are pregnant again after years of waiting and trying. Of all the times to get pregnant......

Honestly, in the light of the circumstances, it felt most like a tender kiss from our Father God and the confirmation that HE is very strategically involved in our present and future. It just matched the whole theme. John even asked once, "does this mean I don't go back to school now?". No. It just means life is changing.

Here are our logistics: if things keep going this direction then in the fall John will begin a 2 year program with class two nights a week and some pretty intense homework. During that same time, I will work through having a newborn addition while homeschooling my children with less of my husband around. And, I'll be frank, I'm not that juggling, multi-tasking super mom. I'm sure I'll learn new tricks to make it all work, but I don't tend to come by that naturally. I sure love that gift in other women, though.

So, we're finding that soon we'll both need to pull back from everything we've been involved in up to now. I'm sensing an identity shock coming in the future. Ahhh....*shrug*.

If the story weren't so amazing....I mean, I've heard other people have stories like this but I've never lived one. Seeing the hand of the Lord so clearly takes the potential sting out of leaving some things behind.

But I'll probably need the reminder later this year! HA!

Pregnancy

2010-02-25T18:28:00.000-08:00

I'm going to be a little candid. My boldness lies in my firm belief that the 5 people who currently read this are dear friends and very loving.

Pregnancy is weird.

Context: I'm 7 weeks into the latest Grapperhaus adventure. It is well received and highly anticipated. 2 1/2 years ago was the first time I remember having the conversation about trying without really trying to add to our family. It began there and for 2 1/2 years there was disappointment after disappointment. At one point, we 'tried' every day for 2 weeks just to make sure to be thorough. And I have a pretty good handle on how everything works. (don't get me started about how much women don't know about their own bodies and instead outsource it to a stranger with expensive experience in worst case scenarios). But I am delighted to be pregnant again.

As I've been wrestling with my adjusted physical boundaries, I began to really ponder pregnancy and what it feels like. I took my mind momentarily off the constant hum of nausea and overall 'yuck' to consider what's happening in my body.

I've spent the greatest portion of my life in control of so much that happens in my body. I make my arms and eyes move. I use my voice. I coordinate movements and thoughts in order to cook, play music and even clean while I send cautions to my children over their shenanigans. I am the boss of me.

But this is different. Its completely outside of my reach.

Its as if a family of strangers have moved into my basement. And I can't talk to them or ask what they're doing. I can't watch what they're doing. But they are very industrious and are doing something constantly. They don't acknowledge me and I don't get to see what they're working on. Not only that, they're using up MY resources to do it. The strange family is eating my food, using my paper products and filling up my trash. And the extent of my involvement is to keep going about my business while providing supplies and an overall environment where they can do the work they need to do. Over time, they will gradually take up more and more space until you're cramped into one little corner and feel nothing like the person you've known your whole life.

Who would put up with such nonsense?!

But they best part is the masterpiece that they're working on. Its miraculous. If you have never read into the intricacies involved in the growth of a baby....its astounding. Surely there is an all knowing Creator.

To top it all - there will be an eternal spirit in this creation. Wonderful in the fullest definition of the word.

I can't help but marvel at the function that I, alone, hold in my family - the one person maker, while at the same time having so very little to do with the miracle. This is designed and purposed by God. Each step of conceiving a child to then bringing it into the world, finds its spiritual parallel. And so I wonder where is the spiritual parallel for pregnancy. Oh, some quick answers come to mind, but we ponderers never stop at the quick answers.

I, for one, will try to be very patient with myself next time I feel disquiet and wrestling in my spirit. If I don't happen upon an obvious reason, then maybe I'm gestating. In that uncomfortable first trimester. And the solution is not to make a lot of decisions to try and fix it, but to instead stay the course and let the purpose of God grow until its ready to be known.

Maybe.

Today I...

2010-01-12T12:32:00.000-08:00

Today I:
*actually yesterday, but that title doesn't pack the same punch

-fasted. broke it with some popcorn by late afternoon and succumbed to the bland yet homey appeal of peanut butter on crackers before bed. I'll figure this out one day.

-threw together a makeshift school day since the cool phonics curriculum will have to wait until next paycheck. carefully tiptoed through the rivers of guilt that tell me I'm ruining my children with my well-intentioned yet poorly organized and under-funded home school antics (you may have to be in my head to get that one) but, from what I hear, its a tape recorded message all home school mothers hear.

-watched Akeelah and The Bee with my daughter (her first time, my 3rd) in order to inspire her to keep loving to learn.

-googled the inspirational quote from the movie just to find that it was written by a modern spiritual guru, touted by Oprah. disappointing. it made the bits in the quote that I didn't like even less likable. Well, we'll just stick with the scriptures about the glory of God.

-watched Mike Bickle speak at Morningstar in their Friday night Outpouring service (its happening in KC and SC - what a day and hour!) about hosting the presence of God. It was so practical and simple and faith building. I suggest it. I had never noticed before, to the degree that I did today, when it struck me - that man in endorsed by God. He's not the funnest guy to watch or the most educated, but his words are weighty.

-read the blog of an atheist who had visited our church the previous Sunday. Its something she does. She goes to churches and then blogs about them. It was not what I expected.

-thought long and hard, as I do most days, only today it had these strands: atheism, belief structures, faith/belief.

-made certain to not bombard John with all my thoughts when he walked in the door.

-went to Aldi without the quarter for the cart. especially unfortunate since my quick trip included milk, oil, bags of apples and a frozen whole chicken. but a young smoking gentleman asked my name and if I had a boyfriend. that's what I get for smiling and being friendly. and how is that supposed to work exactly? I guess I can't fault the guy for trying....with that strategy he should be in sales.

-had an heartfelt and fiery conversation with John about belonging, occupation and success. God love him, John is so patient with my need for inspiring, impassioned dialogues. He is so kind when I ask him to be my sounding board, because I don't ask anyone else. I try so very hard to manage my ponderings on my own, but he's so great about my occasional need for logorrhea (logos-word...'arrhea'). Because the part I'm waiting for are the few calm words that balance out my thoughts.

...and it was during and after this conversation that my fingers found the crackers and peanut butter. One day I will choose my internal wrestling matches...I'm getting there.

...and it is on my radar to soon write song and album updates. This project is....*sigh*

Song Fun Facts: Who Will Cry

2009-12-11T09:21:00.000-08:00

When the word came to make an album, we had about 10 good songs ready. Not bad for a first album but usually albums are 12-15 songs.

Given the option, I'm introverted. Growing up as a missionary kid, there were just too many churches to visit, Sunday Schools to speak in front of and foreigners to be totally-friendly-and-not-at-all-weird to, that I had to quickly adapt a new set of skills. But given the option, I am a homebody introvert...which doesn't help with singing my own songs in front of strangers. God is funny how He pairs gifts with personalities sometimes.

So at some point in album meeting #3 in Jess and Tim Power's music room, I confessed that I had two half songs that I might be able to develop. And then they asked me to show them the song portions *cringe*, which I did.

Those songs were Who Will Cry and Faithful As The Sun.

From that first moment in the Power's music room I said that Who Will Cry will just be a piano and voice song. Honestly, it was an effort to avoid creating one more arrangement for 5 musicians to learn and try to play over and over until just right. In fact, the song almost didn't make it on the album.

I was a little worried about the song. It seems my neutral gear is to write big, loud songs and this was the opposite. I wasn't sure how it would be received. I had only played it out loud twice in small devotional environments and neither time did I play the song correctly or with the right words. It wasn't even until our last trip to the studio in KC that I was finally forced to put all the words and chords on one page.

And it was the very last moments of our very last night in KC. We had put off recording it over and over. We were exhausted from recording, nit picking and listening all day. And someone turns to me and says, "Did you want to do that last song? We have to decide now."

Ok.

It was a bear to set up. It seems the best and worst thing in recording is to play and sing at the same time because the voice microphones pick up every sound. Even on the recording now I can hear the clicking of the keys and pedal behind the singing.

So I sat down with my music in the recording room. Warmed up a little bit on the keys. Aaron Swart, our sound engineer, has done this enough that he just left me alone with the record button on for a while. And when I felt ready I just gently went into the song.

One take. That was it.

It was a beautiful moment. I was shocked. Nothing went sour. We all agreed that it was just right as it was. As we listened back on the recording, I cried. It was moving piece of work.

I'll be honest, I don't feel much ownership on the songs I write. If I hear someone else doing them, I experience them all over again. It helps that the songs are mostly biblical principles and themes - I can't lay claim to those.

Song Exposition: Who Will Cry

2009-11-16T07:48:00.000-08:00

This was born first from reading through the book of Jeremiah.

I have the practice of reading through the Bible. Some days I get in 3 chapters. Some days I get in as much as 10.

In truth, I'm trying to build my Bible reading muscles to take in 10 a day. I first heard of this extreme Bible reading tactic from a respected spiritual father, Pastor/Dr. Abu Bako. He gets in between 40 and 80 chapters a day. Seriously. And that's just daily maintenance reading. He also studies the word, mediates on the word, etc. When our church body heard about this, we decided to go for a year of 10 chapters a day (or 4X through the Bible in a year) and see if we could tell a difference. The most tangible difference was just that we were able to recollect scripture so much faster - which is very useful for praying publicly in the House of Prayer among other benefits.

As I read through Jeremiah I was moved. The description of the spiritual temperature of the priesthood and Israel in general, from the perspective of Eternal God, seemed to apply so vividly all these years later. I saw a priesthood standing before the Lord whose hearts were far from HIM. They were serving people and making the sacrifices, all the while in secret they were practicing sin completely void of the fear of the Lord. And what begins in the priesthood inevitably filters out to the people. And, like any flesh bound human, I first began to see the reflections of this carelessness in places and people outside of myself. And then I saw the priesthood of my own heart and mind behind its closed doors and my heart was broken.

And then there's Jeremiah. The kings and priests would ask him for direction from the Lord and when he told them, they called him a liar. And with each denial of the word of God the people were taking deeper and deeper into captivity. And Jeremiah's close relationship to God meant that he saw what God was seeing, openly and secretly. And his relationship with God meant that God would tell Jeremiah what was coming for the people - who kept refusing to draw near to God. A little humility would have gone a long way; a little lowness and repentance is strong currency...but they wouldn't.

And no matter what, Jeremiah had to keep caring. He had to keep going before the Lord though there wasn't any visible positive result from his words. Jeremiah, in obedience and service before the Lord, kept reaching out to the people and kept feeling their rejection of him and God who sent him. Over and over. Over and over.

This obviously was a great pain to my heart as I considered the weaknesses still in my heart toward to fear of man over the fear of God. And then I tried to imagine the perspective of the Lord as HE reaches out to man over and over with the constant desire to redeem and restore and bring freedom. How HIS eyes search to and fro (2 Chron. 16:9). How HE seeks for a man who would make a wall and stand in the gap on behalf of the lost so that HE wouldn't have to release the reward of destruction (Ezek. 22:30). And the cry was born in my heart for intercessors to stand before the Lord, share in HIS feelings and cry out, no matter the response, in hope for repentance and redemption.

In the song, there is a reference to the Song of Solomon. As my heart felt the pain of truth from this revelation, I felt like I needed to hold up 'time out' hands in order to recover from the burn of HIS word. I needed to be washed again. To leave this old way behind me.

Shortly the song sheets, with lyrics and chords, will be available for download on the website www.bizzygrapperhaus.com.

Stonewall

2009-11-12T13:31:00.000-08:00

I want to extend a huge thank-you to Lou Engle and the interns from The Call Institute for visiting us this past weekend and bringing what they do here to St. L.

Looking back, the weekend was a big defining point for our House of Prayer. But that was looking back. Looking forward was a completely opposite story. Many of us were very tired and most were beyond weariness. At those times it can be difficult to muster up energy, much less anticipation and enthusiasm. Even the first night kicked off with last minute scrambling as a vote in Congress prompted Lou to call a nationwide conference call - during our conference in St. Louis. So we joined over the phone, while he took the call in another room, but the whole thing ended in the passing of the Stupak Amendment! Hallelujah!

But to our great delight and surprise it was above and beyond even our secret hopes and expectations. It has become very apparent that the personality and identity of our HOP is very kindred to that of Lou Engle. If I can be so bold, it felt like we were corporately called in from tending the flocks to be anointed by the prophet. And today we go back to our work but with our heads a little higher, with clearer eyes and hiding in our hearts the precious humility that HE has seen us all along and knows our name.

Our HOP is small. We host conferences by the skin of our teeth and with some of the hardest working, devoted people I have ever met. But I can say with conviction they are mature believers, experienced in both serving and leading and with some battle scars to show for it. In conversation recently someone quoted from Judges when Gideon says, "I am the least in my family from the least of the tribes."

It can feel that way sometimes. But I want to encourage those who can feel that way - and if you've watched the KC websteam at all lately, this is the theme you'll hear - He calls you Worth It All. And He made you very specifically for His purposes and pleasure.

Well, I hope to post some album art work soon for Further Up, Further In - I just have to ask John to put it in a friendly format, but I'll throw it up and soon as I can. And in the next few weeks I'll be putting up a post per song to give the story of its inception and execution, for those who are interested.

May God richly bless you with wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of His perfect son, Jesus.

By the seat of my pants.

2009-10-02T09:52:00.000-07:00

We all imagine our future. Like a Sunday School felt board, we place ourselves and others in a setting and try it out for a while to see how it feels or prepare ourselves for something.

I'm doing something I never....NEVER saw myself doing.

Homeschool Co-op.

Homeschooling, like any other encompassing pursuit, has its stereotypes that are rooted in a version of reality. And like other championed causes, it will, without fail, incite much debate and passionate conversation. That said....

*whispering because someone might be listening* I am not that passionate about it. I just don't feel I have the energy. And it already requires so much energy. But I am, in a sense, stuck with it. In a fantasy life where money is no object and there is no shortage of affordable Godly education, I would not be homeschooling. But, thanks ultimately to the fall of man and a few other things, here I am, somewhat unwillingly, diving into the all consuming task of homeschooling one little girl.

But that's not the point here, just the set-up.

For 8 million of my own, personal reasons I am homeschooling - by the seat of my pants. I'm freestyling to beat box. I'm doing improv. I'm playing music to a crowd without the sheets to the song. (aren't these all the scenarios of anxiety dreams? how curious.)

The Blow Off

Weeks ago, my incredibly gifted, Type A, nothing is impossible for her, organized older sister tells me about how she and another homeschool ('hs' from now on) mom are going to help each other out co-op style (in this case it means that all these middle school-age children are together and the moms take turns teaching a subject to everyone).

Me:"Neat, how cool for you guys."

Then she tells me that if these certain other 'hs' moms, with children my daughter's age and in middle school, wanted to join up, would I be interested?

Now, because she is the oldest and there are certain stigmas attached to that role for a younger sister; and her Type A demeanor can make her seem quite fierce and unrelenting (perfectly suited to task and accomplishment, I should add), I didn't scream and run in that very moment. I didn't want to spook her. But then, days later, I saw the state requirements that I must meet and keep records toward. In that moment terror overcame me again, I promptly passed out and then when I regained consciousness I called my sister to see if her co-op thing would work for us.

*to give my sister some credit (because she might read this) she wouldn't have been spooked. She probably would have let me simmer in my juices until I realized how beneficial it was. Which I did. Through the very shallowly stuffed terror.

Present Tense

5 weeks later there are a total of 5 moms and their 9 homeschool children coming together for co-op (with the 4 bigger ones working on their own). It has been quite the show. We are all, to use my mom's phrase, 'tap dancing as fast as we can'. And while each of us are coming together with an unsure, "this is all I can do", its actually coming together. Its a little messy and a little chaotic, but it also a flexible environment with just enough control to maintain structure but not be stifling. I'm impressed with what is being pulled off.

Symphony

I feel like I must be seeing a heavenly definition of order or co-operation. Its too harmonious. Too symphonic to be just another obligation. Its kinetic and active. Its leading one moment and then flowing into serving the next.

I will be using this experience to define God ordained function - how it should be. Leading a small group in an explanation of primates and then quickly switching to support someone else while they explain and execute a craft to nine 4-13 yr. olds.

My sister initiated, the rest of us co-operated and lent our strengths for our mutual benefit. It also helps that we liked each other. And I can't help but notice that as I see each of them lead according to their anointing, I'm growing to love and appreciate them more and more. To me, that sounds like a working definition of marriage. And what is marriage but a covenant. Am I seeing a working definition of what covenant relationship looks like?

I'll keep pondering that one.

Pre-Sale Very Soon!!!

2009-08-31T12:03:00.000-07:00

Yesterday the Gateway House of Prayer wrapped up the annual PRAY Conference.

It was DYNAMITE!! Pastor Abu Bako came in from Ghana, Africa and spoke as well as Robert Hagan, also from Ghana but now in Illinois.

It blew my mind. It broke up old thinking and started building new thinking. I think its safe to say that its been a re-defining weekend for me.

I and a team of excellent singers and musicians (Tim & Jess Power, Jeanine Rea, Ashley Helbig, Tim Shaefer, Tim Wiggins and Joss Riddering) had the privilege to lead the room in worship both Friday and Saturday nights. The environment and the atmosphere in the room was bold and on fire. I've been in plenty of conferences but this was beyond encouraging - it was reestablishing foundational truths of God in people, the city and the nation. It was very different.

Alright.

GUESS WHAT?! THE BALL IS ROLLING!!

We started to pre-sale the cd that weekend to the group at the conference!

We're anticipating actually releasing the album in another 4-6 weeks but we will SOON be making pre-sale of the cd available on the website!! Woo-hoo!!!

Personal Note: if you know me and are curious what this sort of thing feels like - well, it feel like the mixture of excitement and terror that you feel on a roller coaster. I'm not the best manager or organizer so I'm heading into unknown waters with GOD and the assistance of the Holy Spirit. But who better to have in your corner!!!! If HE can speak a universe, all its planets and creatures into being.....HE can help me manage this project! And that's exciting!

Well, I need to get back to homeschooling (YIKES). These are very exciting times!!

Fun News.

2009-08-20T13:49:00.000-07:00

So way back when we just starting making the trips to KC to start recording with Aaron Swart, the guys (Aaron and Nate Panke) would ask, "Do you have someone in mind to mix and master the album?"
If they were looking at my face they would see a wash of blankness come over me. Somewhere they faint sound of crickets would be heard.

Huh?

At least I had the likes of Tim Power and Tom Helbig (dad) with me. Tim has put out a number of albums already with about two different bands. I think he may have started recording at 15. Composing at 4. Well, his composing didn't come up until his college years, so that's an exaggeration, but he's just one of those guys. Also, Tom has been around music his whole adult life and has had way more conversations about this sort of thing than I have.

(this, friends, is called the grace and favor of God. Being supported and aided by such as these guys.)

It ends up that Aaron and Nate, in their past collaborations, liked to refer thier clients to a particular Mix Masterer. Jared Logan. He lives out of town, but they showed us some of his before and after work. Pretty great. I was starry eyed, but T 'n T wanted to keep the door open reserve the decision until we got a little closer. And if I can tell on myself a bit - the whole project left me starry eyed.

So as our project is winding down and then eventually stalled in a holding pattern, something pretty cool happens. Jared Logan comes into KC to PRODUCE a little album for CORY ASBURY called JESUS LET ME SEE YOUR EYES which is doing pretty well right now.

Also, if you follow KC House of Prayer online then you'll see Jared Logan playing drums with Misty Edward's new team.

Oooh boy, am I just glad that we caught this guy right before he's taking off. He'll be more expensive next time - and worth every penny!

Hoodie Hoo!

Slightly Less Voiceless

2009-07-22T19:47:00.000-07:00

Well its been several weeks now that I've been unable to vocally lead worship. It has been difficult, to say the least. Worshiping God is such a big part of my spiritual inhale and exhale that these constraints make me cry sometimes.

And while my mind is buzzing around the potential whys of something like this (a lesson in healing, a sign to step away from all my tasks, an attack resulting in more pressing in - I could go on and on), the truth, I find, is usually a little of each but never quite what I expect. HE is so interesting like that.

I am, in essence, hedged in with thorns all about me. And, my Father, who knows and is capable of all things is aware of me and where I am. Check out this encouragement from a sweet friend, Charis Scofield,

"press into Him in this season of laying down... it can be the greatest place of encounter because Jesus is the ram with His horns caught in the thorns."

(can you tell she's a writer? You can find more of her poetic wisdom here.)

There are other 'points of light' that make this all the more meaningful. And by 'points of light', its just my way of saying that God usually speaks to me in themes during a season yet in various, seemingly disconnected parts of my life. For example, while I'm home and struggling with hoarseness that keeps me from my occupation, my little sister is embarking on a life change but in her stories I'm distilling lessons that apply to me here and now. How could she know? Its unintentional. Its part of my ongoing divine conversation with my Maker.

She is in the first week of an internship at a prayer ministry. She is mature, freshly graduated from college and has actively followed the Lord her whole life. She is not a baby christian. However there are rules and constraints where she is that she must submit to in order to stay. So many of these are precautions to keep the weak and foolish safe (in my opinion) and are therefore redundant to the point of frustrating (in my opinion). Restrictions on internet use, curfews and few breaks are great for those attempting to break sinful, destructive habits. But she is a CHAMPION the whole way. When I scoff at how she can't use the internet in her room but must always be in a public place which is rarely accessed due to the minimal free time, I scoff, but she says, "I get why its necessary."

These are her rights! She's having to give over even the most simple of her rights! Without a fight! Before the Lord, none of these things are wasted and she is, in essence, laying down her rights just like Jesus did when he walked the earth "for the joy set before him" and for a greater glory. For the next six months she is laying it all aside for the greater glory of knowing Jesus.

As my heart warmed to the beautiful humility and glory of this gesture, I began to wonder when I would ever have the opportunity to do something similar. I have a family, I can't do an internship. When will I ever be exposed to a structured environment that would draw those things out of me - and will I realize it in time or will I choose scoffing, refuse the invitation and lose out on the whole experience. How heartbreaking.

This is why Charis' encouragement is so timely. I am hedged in with thorns! I love the book of Hosea. By the final chapters, I am always in tears at the Lord's words of kindness and patience to Israel who had been unfaithful over and over. HE is so glorious! And HE has invited me to restriction and dying to my own ways. This is good news. I would rather be near His fiery burning heart and get burned than be outside, choosing my own path, but of no consequence to the One who created me.

Colorless

2009-07-03T18:09:00.000-07:00

I'm finding myself in a situation - over and over - where it feels like I'm being drained of my color.

I'm out on a limb here. This is vulnerable discomfort. I don't like to speak in the midst of discomfort and struggle. I tend to go on 'lock down' and get especially internal when I'm wrestling for my footing. When I'm slipping around on old ideas that have melted beneath my feet and I need to search for rock solid truth on which to reestablish myself - and then I'll talk about it.

And when I know, I'll make sure to add some resolution to this post. But for now I'm leaning on the fact that the Psalms are full of victorious songs and vulnerable songs.

When I was 19 years old I was counseling at a Foursquare summer camp for the middle school age kids. The leaders of the camp and the represented churches took the counselors aside once to encourage, bless and pray for the counselors. I received two life defining words from the Lord (though I didn't know at the time). One in particular has become part of the language He and I have:
-a woman came to me and said, "I see you walking in the forest and the scene is black and white and you are happy even though its just black and white around you. And I see you reaching a gate and when you walk through the gate you and everything around you turns into bright and vivid color." I knew it to mean that my current life was black and white and I was headed into color. And I did.

So, I've reached this certain place again where for the 6th week or more...I feel the color draining out of me. Is it really draining? Am I just in a newer season of the invitation to take my Isaac, my color and lay it down before a trustworthy Father? I just don't know right now. I'll intercede with my tears until then, trusting that He is the Author and Perfector of my journey. Which I can say with all the confidence in me that is very much IS.

I've also spent the past 10 days dealing with a respiratory sickness that has effected my breathing and taken my voice away. I've had to forfeit my singing and worship leading to others for a week now. Without the release of singing, even my spirit feels like it can't breathe.

So...I guess that leaves me feeling a bit colorless and homeless. That is oddly funny to me!

Psalm 42
"As the deer pants for the water brooks, So my soul pants for You, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God; When shall I come and appear before God?.......
Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why have you become disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him for the help of His presence."

(don't worry, I'm still smiling)

The Law of Intention

2009-06-18T13:59:00.000-07:00

Hm, its been a while. What can I say - I've been avoiding.

Cornerstone is over and I wasn't in the top 16 so I wasn't looking forward to posting, "Nope." Not that I'm terribly disappointed, taking it personally and wallowing in failure but the news is boring and I didn't have anything interesting to follow up. News, sure, but uninteresting news.

But my favorite thoughts recently have been buzzing around some teachings by Lance Wallnau. This dude is ON FIRE. He mentioned how he picked up a principle from sucessful business men that they called the Law of Intention. It's when you have a goal or a vision and if you keep your focus on that goal/vision then everything you need will come to you to help make it happen. Remember that for a moment.

I have realized some things about how the Lord and I work together - how we walk together. He has a big picture in mind and if I'm patient then, over time, the random bits will become a bigger picture. Like a pointilism painting (Seruat): blue dot next to a yellow dot....over time its a picture.

But while I'm waiting for all the dots to line up, I'm feeling a bit like John Nash (Beautiful Mind) circling random letters on pages, connecting them with strings......sigh.

So I have two themes I've been gazing into: the spirit of Elijah is one and the Tabernacle of David is the other. And while these themes have been pretty raked over and are already front burner issues in current times, I have some questions still.

For example, out of the 12 tribes of Israel, only 1 was designated exclusively to work in the tabernacle. How does that translate to now? What about Judah? Judah means praise and through Judah we get Bezalel, David, Jesus....in what capacity does Judah work today?

I have some answers to these questions and I'm starting to see a picture there, but its still pretty sketchy and it pertains mostly to my own, present tense life.

Law of Intention - I've realized in the last months that as I keep my eyes on the burning eyes of Jesus that he will continue to bring clarity and answers to the gaps in my understanding - because really I'm searching for my own identity.

49

2009-04-27T09:55:00.001-07:00

49.

Since this Cornerstone contest seems to have the most activity right now, I find myself needing to give it my attention. Currently ranking at 49. I'm sticking with not adding any more promotion myself - its more of a litmus test than anything else. That test being: 'since I'm not sure how this does or does not affect me, I'm staying out of it and letting things fall where they fall. But I will most definitely need to consider the outcome.'

So I ponder these things in my heart - and in my kitchen this Monday morning. See? That's me pondering.

So why make such a big deal out of it? Why not just enjoy the ride and see where it takes me? Why not put all my energy into this, if this could be a career? Why not pursue the dream?

Easy answer. Its not my dream (thank you Mike Bickle for your revelation). With the time that comes with staying at home with small children, I have been able to devote myself to teachings from Mike Bickle, Rick Joyner, Robert Hagan, Abu Bako, and more - be it books or cds. And there are a few extracted principles that apply here.

1. He is my dream. Jesus is my exceedingly great reward. Everything on earth will pass away and when it does, He will remain and that's not the time to decide to try and get to know Him. My dreams toward accomplishment on Earth could never compare to what He would make available to those whose eyes are set on His eyes and His heart and fulfilling HIS DREAM!

2. And thus, as I take pains to position myself to know His heart and His dreams, I have to be purposeful and careful. Not blown about by anything that comes along. I so want to be faithful to His heart and to Him.

I sometimes take this too seriously - lose my fragile grip on joy, etc. If I'm wrestling with anything in this season its the question, "How do You make us glad in the house of prayer?" I mean, its part of the fruit of the kingdom of heaven: righteousness, peace and joy. So where is joy? Hmm. More things to ponder in my heart.

Hi, my name is Bizzy. I'm a compulsive ponderer.

57

2009-04-22T03:37:00.000-07:00

For those interested, at my last look, I've moved up to 57th out of 131 bands at the Cornerstone New Artist Showcase. All I can say is thanks to the people who are out there voting everyday. I've been purposeful about not talking about it, or promoting it overly much - honestly, some is fear but most is a strong desire to just let God author what happens. Since it wasn't on my own radar, I haven't been taking much ownership in the whole thing - all my energy is otherwise budgeted into my other areas of responsibility. So this is interesting. And the question lingers in the back of my mind, "oh no. what if I have to go?"

In other news, I've taken the advice to heart and I'm stickin' with my name! I'm so much happier with keeping the whole thing, bizzygrapperhaus, than shortening it in some way. So thank you Rachel, Mindy and Charis. I'm also taking Charis' sage advice and grabbing up bizzygrapperHOUSE.com since its a very common misspelling and we'll just redirect those poor spellers to the proper site. We've got some fellas working on it now - even video! I know, fancy, right?
I read this today and just loved it. 2 Samuel 7:19b. Its right after David got those promises from God, one of the things he says is,"Is this your usual way of dealing with man, O Sovereign Lord?" Its so great. When I read it, it unfolds in my mind like David's blubbering, crying Academy Award speech before God. He's choking his words out, eager to say them, but they're a little garbled as they make their way through his emotions.

So, let me give a shout out to Charis Scofield, beautiful woman of God in Redding, CA.; mother of 3 handsome boys; worshipper; builder of a House of Prayer in Redding. Check out her words of wisdom at http://www.charisscofield.com

Fast Foward - Grapper Who?

2009-04-14T11:02:00.000-07:00

I heard Cindy Jacobs say once that God seems to have two speeds, Pause and Fast Forward. I love that. I get that.

Desert & whirlwind. Echoing emptiness & Christmas morning. Dead calm & high seas. I dunno, I think I'm beleaguering the point.

And how often have I squandered the rest and refueling of Pause in pouting and self examination, wondering why nothing is happening?

How often I have I fearfully squandered Fast Forward by retreating and throwing up the stop sign?

Thankfully, I'm getting more accustomed to His pace and I'm learning to respond better though I still get impatient and alternately, I still get scared.

Anyway....

Domain name. I'm in a bind. I followed the leading of the Lord into a better than expected marriage, but I inherited a difficult, 3 syllable last name. I've grown to love the name. Love how I can identify telemarketers quickly - love how I can always see who has done the research to spell it correctly, etc..

Think of the worship leaders you can name. 2 syllable last names! And none too ethnic either excepting Zschech. Houghton, Edwards, Beeching, Whickam. Don't get me started on the unfair nature of the name Power! Their name IS their domain name. But the consensus is to ditch Grapperhaus. Its understandably too long, too weirdly spelled, too many syllables. But I just don't know what to do. Just 'Bizzy' is already taken everywhere - .com, .org, .net.

I'm in a bind.

Suggestions are welcome.

Jacob

2009-04-13T10:55:00.000-07:00

The song Jacob was born from what feels like innumerable points of disconnected revelations from times of worship, gleanings from my own experiences or the experiences of others and just desires from reading the word.

It took me a very long time to write and develop - on of the longest so far. I had a chord progression I had found while messing around that I really liked - which became the 'one way' chord progression. Such good energy, but I had nothing to go with it.

I did Bible research (mostly w/Strong's Concordance) into the story of Jacob's wrestling. It took hours and eventually turned into 6 pages of notes.

Highlights:

- Jabbok means "emptying". the experience empties him of reliance on his natural strength, his Supplanting tendencies.

- Prevailing WITH God. He kept up with the angel. Jesus is waiting for bride that can keep up with him, that can contend alongside him. This is what equally yoked looks like.

- Touched on his side. His reward for enduring with the angel was greater weakness.
- Song of Solomon 8:5-6 where the bride is graduating from the wilderness by leaning on her Beloved.
- John the Baptist called it "I must decrease, He must increase".
- Jesus told Peter his reward for feeding the lambs was to be so at the mercy of another (we can put God here) that Peter would be clothed and led about by Him. John 21:18.
- I see and established precedent for walking with God results in a greater reliance on Him.

- Supplanter/Prince With God. He was born with a God given ability/calling to rule over people and places like a prince. He wasn't born into people or places. He wasn't in line to inherit people or places and so he used his natural ability in his natural strength which resulted in a defiled result. The goal is to yield our natural strengths to God, aka weakness/leaning/limping. The correct equation is God given ability/calling + God's strength yields Prince With God.

The research was like fireworks going off. Completely enjoyable and exciting. The labor was putting it into a song. It took long bouts of time at the piano, several tries and LOTS of praying in the Spirit.

But it has become a song that people in our prayer community enjoy.

Whew.

Journey Into the Work

2009-04-09T09:55:00.001-07:00

I have always been fascinated by the journey an artist undertakes while they make a piece. It is very likely I never thought of these things until I married an artist and these things became part of my life, thoughts, conversations, etc.. But very often the story behind the work is as fascinating, and often much more fascinating, than the work itself.

Peeking into the lives of Toulouse-Lautrec and his friend and fellow artist Van Gogh speaks so strongly of their personalities, perspectives on life and from that vantage point their work becomes so much more than paint on canvas.

Here's Toulouse. He's cynical, bombastic and dark. He hangs out in bars and with questionable characters. Due to a little too much marrying of 1st cousins he had some strong deformities.

Van Gogh. He was sensitive, son of a pastor and prone to melancholy. He would swing between hope and hopelessness and eventally shot himself.

Or am I just a creeper?

Here's my point: I'm gonna use this area to talk about "what" and "why" behind the songs. I always wonder with other people's songs, art, etc., and I thought I would make it readily available. For the creepers.

As of Today

2009-03-31T11:23:00.000-07:00

As of today, the album is finished recording.

The last few steps are polishing and packaging - which will still take a number of weeks. Mixing and mastering will take everything we've recorded and make it sound like a cd. Packaging will determine what we'll put the cd in and what that will look like. This portion is still very up in the air.

We've been paying for the project as we go and with these two big steps left, part of the hesitation is wondering....how will we pay for this? I'm positive God will figure these things out, but I haven't found a way to enjoy waiting and wondering. Sigh.

Until then - here's our latest and greatest news.

Cornerstone Music Festival's website has a new artist area with a contest. New artists can post their music and people can go and vote for their favorite. 16 winning bands will get free passes and play on one of the small stages. The winner with the most votes will play on the mainstage at Cornerstone. There are a lot of different styles and artists. And a lot of very good bands.

http://www.cornerstonefestival.com/content.php?p=108

We'll be putting up versions of In The Presence & Faithful As The Sun (a new one) soon.

*I have very mixed feelings about this. All I want is to be in the House of Prayer and to be found there. My dream for the future is to be part of the House of Prayer. But, I'm sure God will make Himself completely clear on this journey and move every circumstance according to His plan.

Firsts

2009-03-24T08:12:00.000-07:00

Father God,
Here is my first offering to you. Another in a season of firsts. Unto you be all the honor, power, glory and strength. All my heart wants is for Your son, Jesus, to be lifted up so that he would draw ALL men to himself.
I love you, Father. I love Your son.
Your servant, Your friend and one day Your bride.