Archive for July, 2010

Siesta Summer Bible Study 3: Second Gathering

Hey, my Dear Siestas! It’s time for our second gathering of SSBS3! As promised, below are your written instructions in case you have trouble with the video greeting. REMEMBER, your comments to this post are meant to come AFTER your small group gathering or your solo experience to tell us how your time went. We hope all of you participating will check back in with a comment at some point over the next several days. (One leader checks in per group and each solo participant checks in.) This is part of the accountability process and will immensely help you stay with it through the very last page. As always, please put your city at the beginning of your comment. Thanks so much for joining in!

Summer Siesta Bible Study – Week 2 from LPV on Vimeo.

Your discussions in this gathering will revolve around different points in your homework. Two from Week One. Two from Week Two:

1.    Look back at the middle of page 12 where Kelly had us look up Deuteronomy 23 and Judges 3 to get some background on the Moabites. Read Deuteronomy 23:3-5 together if you’re not watching this as a small group. In your small group, I want you to talk about a few things that have happened in your lives that Satan would love to use to curse you. You can think of it conceptually more than literally if that helps. At the end of class today, I want you to claim that fifth verse together in prayer and believe God to turn those curses into blessings!


2.    Turn to the middle of Week One, to the bottom of p.21 and the top of p.22. I loved Kelly’s discussion about her friend “weeping forward.” What do you think that means? Several of you share a season in your life when you feel like you wept forward and several others might consider sharing a season in your life when you wept backward. Most of us have done both at some point in our lives.


The next two are from Week Two:
3.    OK, Day Two has a portion that is vintage Kelly Minter and one reason why I love her writing so much. Look at the second paragraph on p.42 where she tells about her sister, Megan. If you were writing a novel that was secretly about yourself right now and right in this season and you had to name it in the form of a question, what would it be?

4.    Turn to p.45 and review the part of your homework concerning Psalm 126. Please read the psalm together then discuss your answers to the “Personal Response” question: Practically speaking, how can you sow in your weeping? Don’t miss how much this section has to do with your second discussion question today.

In closing, one of you read the Elizabeth Barrett Browning quote at the end. Let it lead you into prayer and don’t forget to claim those blessings from our first discussion question today!

For all of you participating in the fellowship meal, consider the recipes on pages 62-63 and either do them or some Italian equivalent.

I am so happy to study with you! Stay in the Word and I’ll see you in two more weeks!

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Fourth of July ’10

We had such a wonderful 4th of July! I hope you did, too.

Our dog Beckham shares a birthday with the U.S.A., which is ironic because he absolutely hates loud noises like thunder and fireworks. Bless his heart. Here he was trapped on the stairs by the baby gate and waiting ever so patiently to be rescued.

Our little firecracker was having a rare moment of stillness.

She loved the cowboy hat that I’d found for Saddle Ridge Ranch VBS.

Curtis and Jackson did some little fireworks in my parents’ back yard.

Fun times with smoke bombs.

Mom and Annabeth.

You might not be able to discern from these pictures how obsessed Annabeth is with her Bibby.

After a feast of fajitas, we all crammed into the Suburban and headed to Pine Forest to watch the fireworks. Doesn’t my dad look comfortable?

Dad and my Pappaw.

Jackson wore himself out on the golf course hills with my cousins.

Mom and AB with Hannah and John. They just moved home from Japan and we’re so happy!

We spent every 4th of July at Pine Forest growing up, but hadn’t been in at least 10 years. I loved getting to bring my kids this year.

Jackson and Bibby.

The fireworks were great!

It was Jackson’s happiest night. Maybe Bibby’s, too.

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I’m Just Saying

Hey, Sweet things!

It’s Friday afternoon before a holiday weekend and I’ve had a really full but good day. Not that great a week, really, but a mighty good day. God woke me up with a release this morning from something that has been pressing on my heart. I just sort of heard a “Stop it” from God so I decided to stop it. Anyway, I thought I’d end the work week up visiting with you guys a bit before we lock this place up for three days. I will probably say hi before the weekend is over but I’ll have to see how the unplanned festivities go. For now, it is pouring a deluge in South Texas so whatever we’re doing, it is decidedly not out doors. No telling what my two dogs have done to my house while I’ve been at work today. (Star, my Border Collie, has been keeping Geli, Keith’s bird dog, company lately when the really hot weather prevents Keith from taking  her with him in his truck. I can’t bring both of them to work without mass pandemonium.)

Before I head to another topic, I want to tell you that you really knocked it out on that last post and I’m so proud of you. Way to tell a girl how she can know God loves her. I watched some real live ministry take place on that last post (and so many others before it). I believe in the ministry that takes place here. I couldn’t have fathomed it in advance but our gracious God has lurked here and so many other places on the web and I am so much the better off for it. You know, you guys are the only reason I’ve never done the Facebook thing. I’ve always wanted to. Are you kidding? What sanguine wouldn’t? But I thought I’d end up getting so distracted by it that I’d lose my vision here. I’m so blessed to be a part of you and, for now, you are one of my biggest serving priorities.

And that’s the reason why I need to stop and say something in protection of this precious, hardworking, sincere and tenderhearted community. We exist to encourage one another to know Jesus Christ as personal Savior and to follow hard after Him. We love big doses of healthy, good, clean fun. We love to laugh. We don’t mind having a good hard cry together. BUT, we can’t consistently be a ton more than that. We can’t replace face-to-face families to many people and certainly don’t exist to take the place of our local churches. Few of us are confused about that. Here’s why I’m bringing all this up. I don’t want you to start getting worn out here or start feeling like there’s such a heavy weight of responsibility that you can’t even bear to log in. I don’t want you feeling guilty or condemned because you couldn’t read every single person’s comment. None of us can. None of us can be anybody’s everything. Let me say that again:

None of us can be anybody’s everything.

To attempt it is to play Christ. To demand it is to expect somebody else play Christ. Minister here freely and freely feel ministered to. Freely give, freely receive, the Scriptures would tell us. But do not let this place become a burden or a form of bondage to you. I just can’t have that. I speak for most of us when I say that what I write here on these posts is to every single one of you, new and old. You do the same when you write general responses. When you or I get a chance to shout something out to someone in a comment, it is never because we found her worthier than anybody else. I don’t have favorites on here. I really don’t as much as we sometimes tease. You don’t either. I also don’t get to read every single comment. Neither does Melissa or Amanda. Neither do most of you. Please know that this community exists to bring you encouragement. Not to add to your insufferably long list of things to do nor, worse yet, to add to a  feeling of insignificance. Lord, forbid it. All of you are so loved and welcomed here. I would be heartsick for anybody to get on this blog that was formed to build you up and feel torn down.

By all means, please let your Siestas know when you legitimately need prayer and edification or just a big fat hug. Ask your questions! (I LOVED Erica’s question!) Seek some solid insight! Get together on the side. That’s what this place is for. But I say this to anyone with an intense emotional issue (Believe me, I’ve been there and have sought sound Godly counsel and highly recommend it): please don’t demand more (and more and more) from this sincere community than most women on here can give. Please be careful not take advantage of my girls here in Siestaville. They’ll bend over backwards for you. Don’t put more on them than they can handle or expect of them what they can’t deliver. It is my responsibility to be protective of this community. With all my heart I pray that this will remain one of the very few places in many of our lives where we don’t have to feel guilty and like we’re not enough for people. Please, not here. I say that with love. And if your comments get posted on these entries, you’re probably not who I’m talking about. Let me say frankly that there is a reason why we moderate comments.

Ladies, as you minister on your own blogs and as you participate here, please keep in mind that people can play you. One way you’ll know is if they just keep on and on with it and no answer and no encouragement ever suffices. Sometimes you can just feel it in your gut. That doesn’t mean they don’t need love and prayer and attention. It just means you don’t need to get caught up in a loop. We aren’t meant to take the place of professional counselors.

I love you guys so much. God has placed the stewardship of this community in my hands. I’m the Mama here. And sometimes mamas have to lay some boundaries. This is for your protection.

OK, some of you may not be able to get past that but for those of you who can, this is the real reason why I got on here today. I don’t know why but I’ve been thinking a lot about my grandmother lately. Maybe it’s because I’m a grandmother now and I’ve seen some life come full circle. Whatever the reason, she’s been in my thoughts more than usual recently. My grandmother was widowed when my mom was just fourteen. Four years later, Mom met my Dad and fooled around and eloped with him. When they got back to town, my mother’s mom got revenge I suppose by moving right in with them. She didn’t move out until her mansion was ready in Heaven. I was sixteen years old at the time. Translation? She lived with my siblings and me all our young lives. And, boy, was she a character.

Her name was Minnie Ola Rountree. With a smirk on my face, 30 years ago I suggested to Keith that we name our first daughter after her but he didn’t go for it. Minnie Moore. Don’t you think that would have been darling? Anyway, to us she was “Nanny.” (Not our first child. My maternal grandmother.) She was born before the turn of the 20th Century and lived long enough to ride a horse-driven carriage to town and watch a man walk on the moon. She believed until the day she died that we had a party line (you young Siestas don’t even know what that is. It’s not direct dial to Party City) and would stand over us when we talked on the phone for more than five minutes and say, “Get off that phone! Someone’s probably needin’ an ambu-lance with you on there chewing the fat!”

There were eight of us in all and by the time Dad would let us get two phones in the house (on the same number, of course), Nanny decided if she couldn’t beat us, she’d join us. We’d be on one phone with our boyfriends and she’d be on the other just listening in. You’d walk through the kitchen and there she’d be, sipping on her perked coffee, tuning in like it was her business. Oh, man, she dearly loved gossip. Watched her “stories” on the black and white from noon til 3:00 and only President Kennedy better interrupt her and, even then, it better be good.

She’d been raised in the country and mostly by her big sister. Her second parent was cold in the grave before she was out of grade school. Once a tall, educated man happened through those parts and took a liking to her and married her before she could think better of it. I guess she loved him more than anything in her entire life. His name was Micajah Rountree. They had seven children together. And buried three of them. Under two and a half years-old. Can you even comprehend it? She told me once that every woman she knew with a large family had gone through the terrible agony of at least one loss. They couldn’t have imagined medical care like we have today. In the cemetery where she is buried, she is one of many moms laid to rest near the graves of infants. It’s almost too much to bear to see.

But they had many good times together, too. My grandfather was quite the catch, becoming a mighty fine lawyer and serving in State government. He probably would have been a man of means if not for the Great Depression. Family legends made him bigger than life to me and, even though I never knew him, I set out to be just like him, majoring in political science and minoring in English. God ended up having other plans but not before the man’s legacy had left his mark. I am told he never saw his left palm for a book in his hand. My mom was just like him. I am just like her. Amanda and Melissa are just like me. We live to read. We are so amused that Annabeth can’t put a book down. Rountree blood has trickled down five generations.

My grandmother was a smart woman but her formal education did not quite match her man’s. We moved that woman out of the country but we never moved the country out of that woman. And we are so glad. She used sayings that my siblings and I still employ on a continual basis. When we moved all the way from Arkansas to Houston, Texas (I was 15), her world split wide open. She’d never been to a city you could call a melting pot. She’d say, “Don’t them ferners beat all!” Ferners = someone born in a different country. Of course, what Amanda and I love best about Houston is that it’s such a glad mix of ferners but that’s our taste. Nanny didn’t quite know what to do with such a big world. She never understood that they were just as American as she was.

My favorite thing she ever said – and she said it CONSTANTLY – was this: “Some folks, you just can’t learn ’em nothin’.” (Please use a long “a” sound on the “can’t.” It’s more like “cain’t.”)

I don’t want to be one of them folks that you can’t learn nothin. I want to keep learning as long as I live. Don’t you?

Now that I’ve talked on this long, I might as well tell you what’s kind of had me down this week. For the last several months, we’ve been working on the up-dated version of “A Heart Like His.” (Do not even talk to me about my hair in that video. Believe it or not, I did not do that hair. Another story for another time. Anyway, I happen to really love who fixed that hair so I’m going to keep my mouth shut.) I’ve enjoyed being back in the study of the life of David so much. Scripture doesn’t get any wilder or richer or more applicable than 1st and 2nd Samuel. What’s gotten to me over the last few weeks is not what I said in the original written version (17 years ago!). It’s what I didn’t say. Lord have mercy, I had just come out of one of the worst trials of my entire life. I cannot even express the pain I’d been through or the defeat that had threatened to engulf me. But try as you might, you could not find a single hint of it. (My Nanny would say, “Narry a hint.”)

“Woman,” I said to myself as I was recently reading through the original version and updating it, “Where on earth is your testimony about the grace of God over your pitiful, messed up life? Huh? Huh?” At one point, I read such a down-played version of some misery that I’d been in that I wrote out in the margin, “Rewrite, you big liar!”

It wasn’t really a lie. But it didn’t even begin to measure my true estate. As I’ve read over some of the early writings, I can still see a woman who wasn’t sure she could yet be herself. Thank God, the Scriptures speak loudly and clearly and they’re all we really need. But most of us could use a teacher who owns up to her own struggles and own defeats. Most of us need to know we’re in this together. Way back when I originally wrote “A Heart Like His,” I think I was too close to the fresh graces of God to truly recognize them. I hear a crescendo after that in studies like “To Live is Christ” but, not coincidentally, I don’t hear the full throttle, volume 10 testimony of what God had done for me until “Breaking Free.” There’s an obvious reason for that.

For some reason that missing element broke my heart yesterday. I’d teared up over it several times as I edited “A Heart Like His” but finally yesterday I just got up from my desk, went face down on the floor and bawled my eyes out before God. “I am so, so sorry.”

Praise His Name, He really does grow us up in knowledge and in grace. He is so patient. So merciful. But just in case some of you have only done one of the earliest unrevised Bible studies and didn’t hear it as clearly as you should have, hear me clearly today: GOD IS THE ONLY REASON WHY I CAN HOLD MY HEAD UP LONG ENOUGH TO DRAW A BREATH. ANYTHING IN MY LIFE OF VALUE IS FROM HIM ALONE. HE IS MY DECENCY. HE IS MY ONLY HONOR. WITHOUT HIM, I’M A TOTAL WRECK. I DO NOT DESERVE TO BE IN MINISTRY. I DID NOT EARN IT. ALL THAT I HAVE TO OFFER IS HIM.

He’s it. Plain and simple. Gorgeous and complex.

Some folks, you just cain’t learn ’em nothin.’ And I don’t want to be one of them. Lord, protect me from myself.

“But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To Him be glory both now and forever! Amen.” 2 Peter 3:18

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