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June 2012

Bigmama, Book Recommendation, boomama, Just for Fun, Travel, Uncategorized

Fun Friday {Memoirs}

I just got back from a quick getaway with these sweet girls, and among other things, we talked a LOT about favorite books.

{Jen Hatmaker, Boomama, Vicki Courtney, & Bigmama}

There was universal agreement that I needed to read several I haven’t, so I ordered a few and they came yesterday. With that said, I finished this one in a couple hours.

I don’t remember the last time I was so captivated by a book. It is EXQUISITE. Has anyone else here read it? So good. So, so good. There is a little language in it so don’t let your kiddos read it, but it’s not enough to detract from the AMAZING story.

I believe I am going on a little memoir kick this summer, so if you have any that you recommend, please leave them in the comments!!!

Happy {hot} day to you!!!


Everyday life, Faith

Lost but Found

Words cannot begin to describe my absolute lack of direction.

Todd learned early on in our marriage that a quick trip to a local store would more than likely result in frustrated tears and at least two phone calls to see if he could help me figure out where I was. It’s terrible. Really. I am paralyzed without my little navigation thing talking, even when I’m going to places I go to all the time. It is one of the things that has driven me (and everyone else) nuts for as long as I can remember.

It’s like my brain literally can’t remember which exit will take me where, so I panic. Then, before you know it, I’m on a wild goose chase trying to get home, screaming at Siri, “Take me home! Take me home!” I have a feeling she wants to crawl back in her pretty box and dream of lower-maintenance owners. Sometimes she understands me and saves the day.

Today was not that day.

I was late for lunch with my friend Jess, and she only gets a certain amount of time for her lunch break so I knew punctuality was important. I get to the 440 exit  and I panic because I can’t remember if I go west or east (never mind the fact that I went to school off this exit and drove it every day for years.) I decide it’s east and then immediately, but not immediately enough, I realize that actually, no. It was west. WEST. Darn.

I find the closest exit ramp (Nolensville in this case) and I’m not in what you would call a “peppy, friendly, let’s talk” mood. I see a homeless man on the side of the road with a sign that says “Need Groceries,” and for a moment I am sad for him. Not sad enough to make extended, awkward eye contact, or to roll down my window and give him encouragement. I stare straight ahead, aware of his eyes begging mine to acknowledge him. But I don’t. I just stare ahead, willing the light to shine green so I can escape this moment.

As it turns, I press the gas hard and wave to him as we get eye-to-eye. Poor man, I think. And then I look in my rearview mirror and I see the way his T-shirt is soaking wet, stuck to his back from hours of begging for someone to care.

His back...I think. Soaked through with exhaustion and loneliness…oh, his back…

And while I cannot say I heard an audible voice, I know the Lord spoke to me at this moment.

“No, Angie. That is My back…”

Yes Lord. He is the least of these and what have I done for him? What have I sacrificed? Offered? Because that is what I have done for you, Lord. And it isn’t good enough.

I felt nauseous because I knew the Lord had been prompting me to give him money. I don’t carry cash, so that seemed like a decent excuse. But not enough. I could find something. I got back on the highway and told Jess I was going to be a few minutes late. She is understandably shocked because punctuality is my gift to the world. Stop laughing.

I open my wallet and find (I have no idea how it got there) $10. And it was his, this sweet man who needs, and who knows what he needs really, but he needs. And I want to be Jesus to him so badly.

I turn and get myself back on the highway going towards Nolensville and I pray to the Lord that he will still be there. As I get closer, I see him, now sitting on a rock a good ways back from the road. I open my window and wave to him, indicating I have something for him. As he stands, he nearly falls, and I see that he has a leg that doesn’t seem to be cooperating. He labors toward me with a smile on his face and by the time he has made it to my car, I hold the money out to him. I have tears in my eyes and I tell him that the Lord Jesus had told me to give him money the first time, and that I was disobedient. I apologize and ask his forgiveness. I tell him that I’m mad at myself because more than the money, God wanted me to speak truth over him. I tell him that he wasn’t forgotten, that he was loved, and that the Lord knew him intimately. He nodded and said “God bless you” as his eyes shimmered.

For a moment, it wasn’t Angie and a man. It was the bride of Christ desiring nothing more than to bless her Father.  And as he looked at me, holding the money, he said something I will never forget.

His eyes, well there was something about them.

Something more than a little familiar.

And it reassured me but I didn’t know why.

“Thank you, thank you” he breathed out “…and…I love you.”

He loves me. He loves me.

The King of all kings, the creator God, who allowed me the grace to go back.

He loves me.

I stared right back into his eyes and searched the intensity, wondering what it was the Lord was teaching me.

I whispered a few more times, “Your Father loves you. He sees you and cares for you. Don’t forget that!” He told me his name was Stoney and I told him mine.

As the car line began to move, I saw him run away from my car trying to motion to me. I couldn’t figure out what he was doing, but as I watched, I saw a Pringles can fall to the ground and something else in his hands. He stumbled in desperation,  holding it out to me as an offering. I realized it was a half eaten sub sandwich and he was limping toward me again in an attempt to repay me for what I had given him.

Mercy makes you want to give back, doesn’t it? And I know, because I am the recipient of a mercy so fierce it leaves me speechless. And as much as I limp and gather, the truth is, He only requires me to love well and rejoice in the gift.

“No, friend. It’s not from me. It’s from Jesus. You keep that!” I smiled big and waved

“Thank you!” He yelled as I turned the corner.

I couldn’t do anything but cry. All of my extreme emotions turn to tears, which is another gift of mine to the world at large.

I told the Lord I was sorry about my disobedience because I knew He had told me to do something very simple but it just didn’t fit into my perfect little plan for the day. I was so frustrated with myself and honestly, ashamed. Yes, I did go back and that was the second best thing I could have done, but it wounded me.

Do we really believe that the marginalized, broken, down-and-out populations can be affected by the power of God? Who are we to say that a few kind words or even money might not be exactly what convinces them that they are provided for? I have to say, I’m one of those people who pretty much automatically assume they are going to buy booze, but the truth that God reminded me of today was this: “Your hands, your mouth, and your heart dealt him grace today. That’s all I’ve asked of you.” 

I finally got to lunch, had a great time, and prayed for my new friend Stoney as I drove home.

In case you’re wondering, I got lost again on the way home. Totally different mistake, same nutcase driver.

And as I passed neighborhoods and houses and mailboxes and children, I thought to myself, “Why? Why have you given me this thorn in the flesh. I just want to know where I’m headed. To not panic when I don’t know where I am, and to have some sense of logic that could help me better understand a map.”

I was really angry at myself, but the truth is, one of the things I despise the most about myself (being directionally challenged is a nice way to say it…) brought me to a man in need of Christ today. I was so convinced I was going the wrong way that I didn’t consider that maybe the Lord had chosen it to be so.

It was the wrong way to get to lunch.

That much is true.

But the wrong way entirely? No. Not by a long shot.

I committed a new prayer to the Lord later in the day. Lord, take me wherever you want me. Urge to me interact in ways that bring You glory, and prepare my heart to receive what that interaction will teach me about You.

The truth is, I’m probably never going to be any good with a map.

But you know what?

Today, I reaped the benefit of joy that comes from a heart that wants to bless her Father. And in obedience to His calling on my life, I am sensing that it’s entirely possible that my sense of direction?

It’s getting better all the time.


Have you ever had a prompting from the Lord that was clear like this? Did you listen? What was the result?


The Robe

The Lord revealed something totally radical to me recently, and because it’s pretty complicated, I thought I could explain it to you all.

He is God. Me? Not so much.

I know, RIGHT?!?!?! I should really try and make it in the world as a writer because I  drop KNOWLEDGE BOMBS left and right.

Truly, though, I have really been marveling at what the Lord is doing in my life. He is revealing things to me about myself and the way I see Him. I won’t say I’m a totally different person, but I will say it has rocked me in a spectacular way.

It has been a sacred journey, and I’ve hesitated to even write about it, because you can’t usually translate these things in words. Which is kind of the point, I guess. It’s so beautiful that words just look ugly, and it all pales in comparison.

I’ll try, though.

I think it started in church, but it might have been the shower. That’s normally where the knowledge bombs detonate.

I was lost in a worship song and singing it out when I asked myself the question that should always be addressed during praise.

Do you believe what you’re singing?

Your hands are raised up and your eyes are closed, but the words…

Are they buried in your soul or just falling from your lips? 

I want it, Lord. Every part of me that doesn’t feel it. The parts that doubt. That wonder if heaven is just wishful thinking and if I’m a fool to believe He left the tomb.

Despite the times when I question, there is always, always a genuine core of faith that doesn’t let me wander too far off. But my mouth runs in every direction and I’m angry about the food burning and I just want her to LISTEN to me. And if this is life with Him, maybe it’s just not going to look like I thought it was. Because it’s still hard. It’s really, really, really hard sometimes.

And I can’t help but wonder what I’m doing wrong.

Several months ago I was reading and I came across a description of Isaiah 6. I can’t articulate what it was that moved me so, because I have gone back and read that commentary again and I didn’t see any words that jumped out as overwhelming. It wasn’t the words, I know. It was the Holy Spirit wooing His broken bride, and I will never forget it.

In this part of the text, Isaiah is describing a vision He had of the Lord. I’ve read it before. Lots of times. And I’ve thought it was interesting. But still, you know…a story of someone else’s encounter with the living God. I mean, good for him and all, but I’m not having that vision so I can’t see it like he does. Go Isaiah. Happy for you, buddy. Let’s carry on and do a church craft project.

For some reason as I read though, I got through Isaiah 6:6 and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Not like in a cute PG-13 movie where the girl has been on a date and she closes the door and slides down the back of it doing that weird thing where she’s trying to breathe. And they always have pretty tears. Thank you, movies, for making my husband think I am a freak when my head swells up to three times it’s normal size and I sound like a dying animal.

Anyway, it wasn’t that way. I was legitimately undone.


“…I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple…”

I could see it. Not in a prophetic, visual way, but I felt it to be true. In fact, I don’t know that my children playing a few rooms away were any more real than the train of His robe.

I kept my hand in my Bible and bowed my head, speechless.

It filled the temple.

“Above him stood the seraphim. Each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew. And one called to another and said: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts: the whole earth is full of his glory…”

It fills the earth.

I’m not a Bible scholar, much to my chagrin, but that doesn’t mean I can’t read the word of God and ask Him to give me a glimpse of Himself. Don’t you think He wants to speak this way to all of us? I do.

I’ve read this story many times, as I said. But in that moment, sitting still and listening closely, I asked Him why I was crying.

It filled the temple.

The words echoed over and over and spoke life to places that have always been dead. It was a fundamental, clear vision of who I am in regard to Him. I have worn Todd out telling him about all of these beautiful revelations I’m having and I’ve come to believe I might be the last one on the bus with this. Because every good Christian realizes this, right? I didn’t, and it troubled me. I gave myself way too much credit, and as a result I wasn’t able to worship Him the way I should have.

I’ve always felt like I’m one bad decision away from wrecking everything. And therein lies the issue, I suppose.

I’m already wrecked. That’s the whole stinking point.

I mean, I would have answered that on the “Are you a Christian” multiple choice test, but I don’t know that I felt the weight of it.

I am all of those things I don’t want to be. I am wretched in my sin. Flesh and good intentions will get me nowhere. It’s horrifyingly ugly to see yourself this way.

Well, it used to be.

Until that train filled the temple.

Hear me say this, because it doesn’t end with words like “wretched” and “ugly.”

I have never felt so beautiful.

I think what I have needed in my walk is a clear vision of who I am and who He is, and for whatever reason, this was that moment. I saw myself the way Isaiah saw himself while the angels covered their feet because they knew they were unclean.

“…Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!”

My Bible says this in the footnotes: “The revelation of the Holy One is disturbing.”

Yes, disturbing. And what a strange word to describe the presence of God. But the truth is, it settled something deep within me.

I’m uncomfortable in the presence of God. And you know what? That’s the appropriate response. I’m not supposed to cuddle up to Him like He’s my teddy bear and He is just going to give me whatever I want if I ask nicely. His majesty is disturbing.

It fills the temple.

And just like that, I loved Him more. Differently. I felt myself tremble at the thought of being in His presence, and it wasn’t that I was scared. Just, I guess, aware of what that really meant.

I can’t see Him the way Isaiah did, but I believe that he was a real man who walked into a real temple and had a true vision of the Lord. In that, he recognized his sinfulness and cried out in awe. Scripture tells us that one of the seraphim flew to him and touched a burning coal to his lips and said, “Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for.”

Instead of asking why I felt disturbed, I realized I had missed the entire point.

Why was I ever allowed to open the temple door in the first place?

The posture of my heart shifted and I just let it take its toll on me, because the fear I had was equal to the gratitude that spills from having your door on the handle and knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that it is just as He says it is. That His presence is real, and that His mercy still speaks life over us.

And it filled everything in me.

I didn’t deserve it, but in His mercy, the door turned. I beheld Him and I loved Him.

As the coal burns us, so it heals…

Thank you, Jesus. 

Let it be for your glory, and for that alone.


Here is a book I read recently and HIGHLY recommend if this resonated with you…The Holiness of God by RC Sproul.