ALL BARK BUT NO BITE

As most of you know, I have a dog. His name is Kipper and he looks a lot like Lassie. We walk - a lot! Together, we've probably clocked close to 1600 miles.

The other thing is, we have a lot of stray dogs in our neighborhood. Many of them are of the dreaded pit bull variety, but I've never really had any problems with them.

Nope, most of my problems have been with small dogs. Teeny, tiny dogs with Napoleon complexes are the bane of our walks.

Today, on the God-sized Dream team, it's Tuesday. That means Holley Gerth gives us an assignment, and today's assignment is to address our Chihuahua of fear that only sounds like a Doberman. (actually Dobermans are very sweet dogs and have a totally undeserved reputation, but I digress).

Actually, my dog Kipper has taught me a lot about dealing with tiny dogs and their big dog complexes. As I've said before God uses some interesting things to teach me what He wants me to know, and one of those things is my dog.

As I've watched my big, fluffy dog deal with some ferocious sounding (if not looking) dogs, he's shown me a thing or two about dealing with the "chihuahuas" in my own life.

First, there's nothing to really fear. Kipper easily weighs 65 lbs. Most of the dogs we've encountered are about the size of his head. Kipper has absolutely no fear of these tiny dogs which means he has no aggression toward them. He has a true picture of the situation.

Most of the times, my fears only sound big. When I get a good look at them however, they are tiny. They cast a much bigger shadow than they actually are. They sound ferocious, but they are really all bark and no bite. Even if they do bite, their teeth are so small, they won't do much damage. When I come up against my fears, I need to remember to take a look at the big picture, so I can see my fear for what it really is.

Second, get close and make friends. Kipper will approach a snarling, growling dog with a slow swishing tail, relaxed body language and inquiring nose. He's even laid down to appear less intimidating to the little rat, dog. Many times, this works and the other dog will gingerly approach and sniff noses.

In my life this means I have to get up close and personal with my fears. I need to look them in the eye and make friends with them, rather than run away and hide. Sometimes, a fear is rooted in truth and by acknowledging that truth, I can grow and move forward. I can make my fears an ally rather than an enemey.

Third, if overtures of friendship don't work, show 'em your teeth with a growl thrown in for good measure. I remember one particular time, Kipper and I ran into a little, tiny Chihuahua mix named Lucky. Lucky had less than a sparkling personality. He was all about showing everyone how tough he was. Kipper did his usual, "Hey I'm your friend." He laid down. He did everything he could to convey he meant no harm. Lucky was having none of it and launched himself at Kipper's head. Kipper ducked, and as little Lucky tried another attack from the flank, Kipper turned his head, showed his teeth and gave a low growl of warning. Lucky's eyes bulged even more. He tucked his tail and whimpering in fear, turned and ran home.

Sometimes, we have to get tough with our fears. We have to show them we've got some teeth and growl at them. Usually, when we get tough with our fears, they turn and hightail it out of there. Instead of letting my fears bully me, I can stand up to them.

Finally, expect trouble. Usually, Kipper is aware of any dog in the area way before I am. His ears prick forward. His tail lifts in a wag and he starts to whine. (he's always up for new friends!). He's ready to meet any newcomers and excited about the possibilities.

I'm not sure why I am blindsided by fears, but I often am. It's like I don't expect them to rear their ugly heads, even though it's a fairly regular occurrence. By being proactive and being ready for my fears to come after me, I could probably head off a lot of angst.

So, how do you face your fears? If you want to read about how others have sent there Chihuahuas of fear running for the hills, stop on over here.

~ blessings, Bronte

INVITING GOD INTO THE MUNDANE

I have a secret to confess - I'm not much of a homemaker. It doesn't really come naturally to me at all. In fact, when my husband and I were dating, I informed him that I planned to travel all over the world (still waiting on that one) and that I didn't really know how to cook, clean or do laundry. Not only that, I wasn't all that interested in learning, so if he was looking for Betty Crocker, he was barking up the wrong tree.

Yes, I know - I was quite the catch! lol

In our early married life, I remember telling a good friend of mine very excitedly that I had "made dinner." She just looked at me and said, "Don't you do that every night?" She received a blank stare. For me, it was a big achievement. My poor husband - either he was a guinea pig for my various cooking experiments (and I use that word quite literally), or he was forced to make do with McDonalds.

The thing is, after I started having kids, I realized I needed to get a handle on things like laundry and a regular cleaning schedule and yes, cooking on a regular basis. Over the years, I've learned to enjoy cooking (although I still tend to experiment WAY more than my family of manly meat and potato types want me to), but running a household still doesn't come naturally to me, and I've never learned to enjoy cleaning a toilet.

I still struggle to meal plan and keep on top of our financial budget - let's face it, I became an English major for a reason! Math and I are not good friends.

The thing is though, God wants me to succeed at taking care of my family. It made sense to me to ask God for help before teaching a Sunday school lesson or before I put my fingers on the keyboard to write an article. These seemed like tasks that God would want to be involved in - you know, "important things."

But I've learned something. God wants to be involved in every area of my life, not just the things I consider big or important. You know, things like laundry or learning the fine art of getting groceries for less.

So, do I pray about those things? I didn't used to, but I do now. I recognize that my gifts don't lend themselves to finding the best buy on butter and matching it with a coupon. Keeping track of columns of numbers aren't really my thing. Heck, just balancing my checkbook can be a challenge sometimes. (and yes, I'm the type to just let it go if I can't figure out why my balance and the banks differs by a few dollars). I am not naturally organized.

But by taking care of the finances, I give my husband the gift of not having to worry about those things. He can trust me to take care of it and that's one less thing on his plate.

By cooking healthy meals, keeping up with the laundry, and regularly cleaning our home, I give my kids the gift of a peaceful retreat from the harsh world. I realize that throw pillows won't make or break a household, but if the whole place is cluttered and nobody can find anything, that disrupts everyone's peace - particularly if you are trying to get out the door in the morning and the soccer cleats or practice jersey are nowhere to be found.

I've learned that God dwells with me in the mundane.

He sees these quiet, often thankless tasks (which nobody ever seems to notice unless you don't do them, right?) as my way of serving my family.

So many times, I look around our world and think, "I should be doing more - more volunteering, more ministering, more Christian service," but by being faithful in the small things for my own family, God looks at me and says, "Well done."

A woman on a mom's board I frequent, recently posted about a woman at her Bible study saying that she wouldn't ever dream of wasting her gifts and abilities on just being a mom and a wife. As you can imagine, on a board of mostly stay at home moms, many women were a bit riled by this.

Mostly though, it just made me sad. Sad that this woman completely missed her first and most important ministry - the one to her family. There are a lot of needs out in the world, and God may very well have called you to meet some of those needs. However, there is nobody else who can be your kids' mom. There's nobody else who can be your husband's wife.

We have a unique calling that starts in our home. By inviting God into our mundane, He can make it holy.

So, I am going to challenge you (as I myself recently), to look at the things you do for your family, much of which you probably don't even think about, as not just daily tedium, but as showing God's love in very practical ways.

What mundane task do you need to invite God into?
~ Blessings, Bronte

5 MINUTE FRIDAY - AFTER

Every Friday, you can hop on over to www.lisajobaker.com and join in the 5 Minute Friday. What is 5 Minute Friday? Glad you asked! Lisa Jo gives everyone a word and we write for five minutes - no editing, no stopping. Just writing. This week's word is AFTER.

How many times have I used the word "after" as an excuse? As in, "after the holidays, I'll start eating better," or "after my schedule gets less hectic, I'll have lunch with my friend," or "after school gets out (or starts again), I'll do x."

It's so easy for me to put things off until after.

Why do I do that? Imagine the things I could have accomplished if I had just started now. Imagine the people I could have connected with, the relationships I could have nurtured - let's face it, the inches and pounds I could have lost already if I wasn't always waiting until after.

This year, I had three words. Yes, I know - I'm only supposed to have one, but this year, God gave me three. They are Proclaim, Pray and Persevere. I'm getting a better handle on what it is He wants me to proclaim. He has definitely sent me to my knees to pray for various things and people, but I'm still working on that persevere.

The other day, a question on Facebook asked, "I'm really bad at _________." I didn't even have to think - the words "follow through" jumped into my mind.

I am a big idea person - always have been. Need an innovative or creative idea? I'm your girl. Need someone to follow through with that idea? Don't look at me!

This year, God is teaching me that the time is NOW. It's not AFTER. I need to stop using AFTER as an excuse. If I wait until the perfect time, that time will never come.

Life happens in the now. As someone said, (and I really have no idea who did), "Time and tide wait for no man." If I'm not careful, I can use the word after to procrastinate living my life.

So, I'm not going to wait until a better time. I'm not putting things off anymore. After all, we just never know if "after" will even come.

WHY STORIES MATTER

This week, our assignment from Holley is to explain WHY our dreams are important. Over the past few months, I've spent a lot of time thinking and praying about my dream.

It went from the vague, sort of nebulous "write," to a much more specific place - one with lines and color and shape. A week or so ago, Holley put up a post on her blog that gave me an "ah ha" moment. You can read it here. But basically what it said is that we have a destination and there are different ways to journey there.

For Holley, her destination is to encourage women, and she journeys to that destination of encouraging women by writing books, writing her blog, speaking and other things. I don't know why this resonated with me so deeply, but it did. (Thanks, Holley!)

The post has been rolling around in my head for a while. I know what God created me to be - a story teller. I've been doing it practically since I could talk, and before I told stories, I was begging anybody with a pulse to read stories to me. There are a lot of different ways to tell a story though - it doesn't all have to be fiction. I tell stories every week when I turn in articles for the newspaper. When I teach Sunday school, in essence, I'm telling a story.

But why are stories so important? What purpose did God have in making me a storyteller? I mean, entertainment is great and all, but that can't be all there is to it. Truly great stories (even the fictional variety) leave you changed in some way - opening your mind to new things, giving you a new perspective, answering eternal questions. They make you think about things that you may never have given a passing though to, or maybe look at something in an entirely new way.

As I pondered WHY story telling is so important, it hit me with the power of a lightening bolt - my purpose, the WHY of my storytelling is to connect people. I've always been a connector as well as a story teller. In high school, I had a very eclectic group of friends - kids from all the different "groups." Even now, I'm usually teh one that gets my friends together to do things.

On a professional front, my newspaper stories connect people with information, resources and other people. My prayer is this blog connects people with God, connects the reader with the truth that God does make a daily difference in our lives and He does long to be in relationship with you.

My destination is connecting people and my journey or way I do it is by telling stories.

But why stories? Well, from time immemorial, we have been telling stories - to connect people to truths, teach lessons, impart morals. Jesus used stories to reach an uneducated crowd. It was a way of connecting to people. Facts, figures, graphs and charts just don't have the same power as story to connect with people's hearts and minds.

Think about the last time you had a missionary into your church - didn't you enjoy and think about those that told stories of the people they ministered to? Stories give us a way to reach out and connect with other people who are very different than we are. They give us a context for the information we are given - a way for hearts to connect with hearts even if we've never met.

That's the power of story.

I can share with you about the need for wells in Africa, and you may pause and even agree with me, but it probably doesn't stay with you. BUT, if I tell you about a young girl and her family - suddenly, the need for wells becomes real. Why? Because I've shared someone's story. I've connected you to a person, not just a problem.

So, why am I pursuing my dream? Well, ultimately, to be obedient to what God has called me to and to bring Him glory, but another reason is because stories matter. They make a difference. Your story is important. No matter what that story is, it can make a difference in someone else's life, even if you think you have nothing important to share.

If you'd like to read the stories of other God-sized dreamers, hop on over here.

~ Blessings, Bronte

WALKING THE DOG, FOLDING UNDERWEAR AND OTHER MOMENTS OF EXPERIENCING THE DIVINE

This week, we were supposed to share about a typical day for us as part of our weekly sharing time with the God-sized Dream team. As you'll probably notice, it is not Tuesday. It's Thursday evening.

It's sort of ironic, that the week we are supposed to talk about a typical day, my week has been anything BUT typical. I am on a sort of vacation - I was off from the newspaper last week and this week. It hasn't really been much of a vacation though. For one thing, I subbed about four of those days, and for another, I've been really working on my house. For a third, I started a new job at the library a few hours a week. So, this week has been anything but typical.

My main focus, though, has been the house. It's needed it for a while, but to be honest, the job seemed so big, I wasn't sure where to start. So, I sort of put it off, telling myself I'd do it next week. You know how that goes!

Well, I had the time, and I knew I needed to get it done. So my days have been spent cleaning out drawers, making piles to throw away, give away and sell. I spent Tuesday (the day I was supposed to be writing this post) up on a ladder painting my bathroom. (I still have paint in my hair). It's been a little crazy.

But it felt good to get things accomplished. Really good.

I would like to tell you my normal day involves me moving forward toward my God-sized dream, that I sit and get hours of writing done, while reaching out and encouraging others, and taking spectacular care of my family.

But I would be lying.

I shared in a previous post that I was having a hard time because I was confused as to what direction I needed to move.

God has been showing me the where I need to move, but I can I just say that the fog that descended on me the week after I found my path was incredible. I was literally paralyzed. I did nothing but the absolutely necessary. I felt like I was moving through pudding every day. I got very little done, nevermind anything to do with a God-sized dream!

For lack of a better word, I felt oppressed - I just didn't realize it.

As I was walking my dog (thank you Kipper for being my prayer/walking partner - I think we've clocked over 1500 miles together), it was like a light went on. THIS was spiritual warfare. I had been feeling incredibly guilty about my "laziness," and I couldn't figure out why, no matter how many lists I made out, I was in this fog all the time. On that walk, as I prayed about this problem, I realized that this was the enemy trying to confuse me (hey, it's not all that hard).

By the time Kipper and I finished that walk, the fog had cleared from my brain. For the first time in about 10 days, I felt like I could think clearly. It was like when you wear glasses and they get fogged up - there is that moment when it clears. Suddenly things came into focus.

God is always good to speak to me in ways I get - I tend to be a bit oblivious at times, so I always ask Him to be super clear. Well, I not only read a great post by Holley Gerth which was a major "ah-ha" moment for me (If you have time, you really should read it) - I also heard a message on the radio. That message seemed to amplify and clarify what I had just read that morning in Holley's post.

I hesitate to share the rest because, well, it makes me feel rather naked and exposed, but if we can't be real with each other, what good is a blog anyway? So, here goes.

About 12 years ago, I started to really study my Bible and not just know ABOUT God, but know Him in a personal, intimate way. Suddenly, He was showing up in my quiet times, and to be really honest, it sort of freaked me out. I mean, GOD was making Himself known to ME in real, tangible ways. It was a little intense. I'm sort of laid back. I don't usually do intense.

As time went on, I got more and more excited about what God was showing me in the Bible. I loved to share with other women what He showed me. I got almost giddy. I told God I would walk through whatever door and speak to whoever He wanted me to. I got several opportunities. As I got more opportunities though, something ugly started growing inside of me.

It was called pride.

I have never had an issue with standing in front of people and talking. I know fear of speaking in public is a high on the list of phobias for lots of people, but it's not one of mine. For as fearful as I can be about other things, it's sort of ironic that public speaking is not something I've ever struggled with. In fact, when I was still a preschooler, I would stand on a table and lead the singing in Sunday school (usually with a little tap dancing thrown in for good measure). When I was 5 years old, I stood in front of a large crowd at a Word of Life camp and shared my testimony. I think they had to pry the microphone out of my grubby little fist.

I liked the spotlight, and I enjoyed basking in it, getting compliments and accolades. Basically, I wanted to be the next Beth Moore. (I'll pause now while you finish laughing).

This is not to say that if you do something you shouldn't do your best. This isn't about false modesty either. God gives us skills and abilities to use, and acting like we don't have any is sort of a slap in His face. But the purpose of those gifts isn't to glorify yourself.

I apparently hadn't gotten that note, though. It wasn't all at once, and I certainly didn't set out to be puffed up with pride. However, I found myself comparing myself with others, thinking I was all that and a bag of chips. When someone else spoke, a sly whisper hissed in my ear, "You could do better than that. Why didn't they ask you?" I started to feel convicted, but I didn't want to look my sin in the face. Instead, I sort of just glanced at it sideways, justifying and rationalizing my responses in my mind. I mouthed all the right phrases and tried to appear humble, but in my heart, that seed of pride had sprouted into a full blown weed.

After a particular speaking engagement (I use that word loosely), I won't say I heard an audible voice, but God very clearly told me that I wouldn't be getting the platform again until we (meaning He and I) had gotten this issue under control. Pride has no place in ministry of any kind. So, I ended up not teaching anything related to the Bible for several years.

Then a few years ago, my Sunday school class sort of fell into my lap. I had missed teaching God's Word, so I really enjoyed digging into the Scriptures. My joy and excitement in sharing what God was showing me returned.

Still, besides a few devotionals hear and there, I basically just taught my Sunday school class - and I was content with that. I put the dream of speaking aside. In fact, as time went on, my thirst for the spotlight went away. I thought I would much rather write and for people to see my words - not me.

All this brings me to the other day. I was folding underwear, and I was listening to a radio program. As I folded and listened, God handed me back my dream of speaking. I started to cry. (I am not a big crier but when God speaks to me, I become an absolute watering pot).

Then, through my tears, I started to laugh. Only God would choose to give somebody a dream while they were folding underwear. Ah, the divine in the ordinary - God is the master of that. He is the master of taking ordinary people doing ordinary things and using them for extraordinary things.

The idea of putting this post out there, of sharing this dream that I really didn't think God would ever give back to me, is pretty scary. I have no idea what this will look like. I have no idea where or when God will open doors. I know it doesn't replace my writing dream, but will probably come along side it. I'm pretty sure the written word will always be my primary medium. I also know that part of me - a big part, if I'm honest - wants to linger in the shadows and avoid any spotlight. I mean, what if I start thinking I'm all that again? I suppose that is probably what God was waiting for all along though. It's kind of difficult for God to shine through me if I'm full of myself.

So, all this takes me back to the question of what an ordinary day for me look like. The truth is with God no day is ordinary. You just never know when He will show up - it can even be when you're folding your husband's jockey shorts.

~ Blessings, Bronte

5 MINUTE FRIDAY - REMEMBER

Here it is Friday again and time for 5 Minute Friday where we write for 5 minutes (no editing or fretting about perfection) on one word. Then we all link up here. So, let's get started!

I love the Old Testament. It's full of very exciting, interesting and sometimes, downright bizarre stories. It makes me gasp, cry and laugh out loud at times. The people in those stories are so real and flawed and yet God used them anyway.

The one thing I always sort of puzzled about was God's insistence that people build little alters or mounds. I kept thinking as I read - what does a pile of rocks do for anyone.

But as always, God has a purpose in His directions to His people. Those piles of rocks were memorials - we see them all over the Bible. God asked Abraham, Moses and various others to build an alter or a memorial after He did something in their lives - gave direction, provided food or water, protected them.

Why? Was it some kind of ego trip for God or something? Nope - it's because our memories are short. Sometimes, really short.

Right after the children of Israel cross the Red Sea - I mean we're talking a few days at most - they come to a spring of water. They are dying of thirst (since it's a desert, that's not just an expression either), and are bitterly (excuse the pun here) disappointed to find the waters of Mara, well, bitter. Immediately, they start to complain and tell Moses they were better off in Egypt and why did he lead them out here to die next to water they can't even drink. (this is a recurring them - not the water but the "we were better off in Egypt" thing).

Um, excuse me - didn't you JUST walk across a sea on dry ground? Didn't God just defeat the mightiest army on the planet for you without breaking a sweat? Heck, right before that, God got them out of slavery that had bound them for hundreds of YEARS - and the people who enslaved them gave them all of their gold and valuables as a send off.

But God can't help you out with a some drinking water. Really???

I can point my finger all I want at the Israelites. I can sigh and roll my eyes at their short term memory loss. But am I any different?

How many times has God provided what I needed, when I needed it? The answer, in case you were wondering is A LOT. Yet, the next time something rolls around, how many times do I choose worry or fretting instead of faith and trust?

This is one of the reasons I blog. It's one of the reasons I journal. I wanted a written testament of God's goodness and His faithfulness because I too have a very short memory.

A few months ago, I was feeling a bit down and forgotten, so I decided to read over my blog from the beginning. I've been blogging since 2009. Anyway, as I read, tears streamed down my face as I was reminded once again of God's answers, His provision, His guidance, His amazing involvement in my life.

So, I guess God was on to something when He asked the Israelites to build memorials. He knew their memories were short. He knew they needed reminding to remember HIs faithfulness. Just like I need to stop and remember, too.

What do you do to remember how God's been good to you?

~ Blessings, Bronte

p.s. hop on over to Lisa Jo Baker's site and read other people's thoughts on the word "remember."

GREAT EXPECTATIONS

One thing I love about God is He often speaks or moves in my life in unexpected ways. During a down day or week or month, or let's face it, a year in some cases, He will show up like a beam of sunlight breaking through dark clouds to shine a spot of joy into my life.

I remember when I was still in school, I would have these unexpected moments of pure joy. They seemed unattached to anything going on around me. I'd just have this moment when I was enveloped in this feeling of pure joy - like a small glimpse of heaven touched my heart. I remember marveling at these moments even then, thinking how cool it was that God gave me those little gifts even on days when it felt like the sky was falling (and honestly, in middle school that was pretty much every day in my drama queen little world lol).

As I went into adulthood, I was often buoyed up by my hope for what God was going to do next. I eagerly looked at the bend in the road, hugging myself with the anticipation of what might lie ahead. It gave me great joy to wonder, to dream, to thrill with anticipation. You just never knew what might be coming.

In the past few years though, slowly, gradually without my even realizing it my expectations have dimmed. Those moments of expectation became more sporadic and tinged with cynicism. My moments of joy came farther apart. Sure, I had moments when God would speak to me or move or show me something and that beam of light would break through into the monotony of the daily grind, but those moments seemed to come more and more rarely to me.

Nothing truly horrible had happened - nobody had cancer or had died or anything like that, but a series of small things combined with a packed busy schedule had chipped away at that spirit of expectation I used to carry into each day, until somewhere along the way I laid it down by the side of the road. Sure, I kept walking the path, but instead of bubbles of frothy anticipation, bends in the road just brought me worry as I contemplated what would be waiting for me just out of sight. Instead of expecting good things, I had unintentionally started to brace myself for the negative.

Not that long ago, I was listening to Alistair Begg on the radio. He was talking about when our hope is in circumstances, then we were bound to be disappointed and eventually lose that hope, BUT to hope in a Person - now that never brought disappointment. It was independent of circumstances or difficulties. Instead that hope was fixed on Christ - who never changes, who is always faithful, who never fails us.

This week, as part of our God-sized dream assignment we were supposed to write about something that brings us joy. As I thought about what brings me joy, a lot of things went through my head - my husband, my children, my family, my friends, finding that perfect phrase or just reading a really good book. But honestly, with out that sense of hopeful anticipation - that expectation of God's goodness, I don't experience a lot of joy.

It's easy to let this world and all the things that come along with living in it steal both our hope and our joy. In fact, it's often not the really big things, but the small, nagging things that suck out our joy. I remember a saying about even though mosquitoes are tiny, they can cause a lot of misery. Song of Solomon talks about the little foxes in the vineyard. Often it's the little things - like pebbles in our shoes - that can wear away our joy and our hope.

But ultimately, my hope and my joy is found in God - not circumstances. When I make the choice to focus on Him, the joy follows not far behind.

"I would have despaired unless I believed I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living." Psalms 27:13

The emphasis is mine - you'll notice David is looking for God's goodness, not on the other side heaven but right here - in the land of the living. It's okay to to wait with great expectations for God's goodness, right here, today. God wants us to look to Him with great, joyful, hopeful expectation so He can surpass it. And knock our socks off. :)

How has God shown you His goodness today?

~ Blessings, Bronte