I'm obviously extremely new at this, but I'm having this little niggling thought that this could be come very addicting. Is this true? I'm pretty pathetic because I've been coming back to check if there are comments and stuff and am extremely curious about this whole process. Why do people do this anyway? What is it about the 'blog' that is so darn fascinating? I've read exactly 3 blogs in my lifetime to date and have found I need to explain what it is to people when I say that I have one... hmmmm.....
I hope what you read here will tickle your nose and you'll find the scent of the Father as you walk through this garden.
Tuesday, August 31, 2004
Sunday, August 29, 2004
agent of change
I love change! Trying new ideas, seeing the difference that sandpaper and varnish make to my floors, getting a good haircut and highlights, the changes in my kids as they grow-up.
I hate change! The new way my body looks after giving birth four times, the changes wrought in my refrigerator when I forget to clean it out before going on holidays, the hole that is left when dear friends move away, the changes in my kids as they grow-up.
I think it’s safe to say that we all have a love/hate relationship with change. We want to see our negatives improve and our positives get even better. We are anxious to see God doing the transformation of our minds and the changing from glory to glory and yet we have this nagging tendency to resist the very thing we want to happen. Let me illustrate with a story about my son and his diaper. I warned you a diaper flower would come – well, brace yourselves, it’s here!!
My two year old is just beginning that glorious stage of life called potty-training. He has become aware of the fact that from time to time he is in need of a change and will come to me and tell me all about it. On one of these particular occasions I was up to my elbows in something or other when he came and pulled on my leg with the request, “Mommy, need change, NOW!” Reluctantly I stopped what I was doing and gathered together the necessary equipment to precipitate the procedure, you know, the ‘agents of change’ – after all he was pretty stinky. I got down on my knees and called for him to come. Instead of coming for the requested change he ran off laughing. I have to admit I was not in the mood for this and just put my head down on my knees and asked the Lord, “Why does he do that? I hate it when he runs off like that, it’s so annoying.” I got a reply back that I wasn’t anticipating, “Yeah, I know, I hate it, too.” Well that got me thinking a little. How often do I go to God pleading for Him to change me, He says, “Okay, let’s get on with it.” And I run away, laughing even.
My two year old is just beginning that glorious stage of life called potty-training. He has become aware of the fact that from time to time he is in need of a change and will come to me and tell me all about it. On one of these particular occasions I was up to my elbows in something or other when he came and pulled on my leg with the request, “Mommy, need change, NOW!” Reluctantly I stopped what I was doing and gathered together the necessary equipment to precipitate the procedure, you know, the ‘agents of change’ – after all he was pretty stinky. I got down on my knees and called for him to come. Instead of coming for the requested change he ran off laughing. I have to admit I was not in the mood for this and just put my head down on my knees and asked the Lord, “Why does he do that? I hate it when he runs off like that, it’s so annoying.” I got a reply back that I wasn’t anticipating, “Yeah, I know, I hate it, too.” Well that got me thinking a little. How often do I go to God pleading for Him to change me, He says, “Okay, let’s get on with it.” And I run away, laughing even.
The story does not stop there, however. Samuel continued to resist change for quite some time, smelling up the world, becoming offensive to everyone he came in contact with oblivious to his stench. I decided that I would wait for him to really want that change to take place. It was not until his younger, more immature brother was getting changed that he decided it would really be a good idea to get rid of his bothersome odour – not to mention the discomfort that he had been living in for awhile. He came and observed the whole procedure, giving me commentary as I worked. I found this most interesting, it isn’t like this was the first time the boys had had their diapers changed. This was not a new thing, it just wasn’t happening to him. Yet Sasha had to submit to the change because he isn’t old enough to make those choices on his own. When Samuel saw the fresh clean diapers and the happy look on little Sasha’s face, the results of the change, he was quite willing to lie down and have the deed done. Everyone else was much more accepting of his presence when it was all over, too, as sweet and fun as he is to have around.
My dear friends, change isn’t always a fun process. Nor do we particularly like it – but in the end we are happy with the results of those positive changes. May I encourage you to weigh carefully your intention and reaction before you breathe that prayer, “Lord, change me.”
My dear friends, change isn’t always a fun process. Nor do we particularly like it – but in the end we are happy with the results of those positive changes. May I encourage you to weigh carefully your intention and reaction before you breathe that prayer, “Lord, change me.”
my first blog
Well, I've been encouraged to do this and following my motto for this year, "why not!", I did. I'm listening to a wonderful CD - Signpost's Collection Vol.1 what an uplifting and encouraging thing to do. So often I forget that music is such a powerful tool for bringing peace, joy, depth of emotion, release, etc. Kinda stupid when I am a musician and am married to a musician and live in a family stuffed to overflowing with musicians. In a house full of kids (5) you just sometimes forget the simple stuff...
Lani
Lani
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