Hey, my dear Siestas!

I hope you are well and blessed in an acute awareness of the presence of Jesus with you this Lord’s Day. Hawk and I are sitting on the plane heading back to Houston from Orange County, California. I am writing to you from an altitude of about 30,000 feet and there is nothing but a carpet of cottony clouds as far as I can see outside my window. The pilot just came on the speaker to tell us that we have thunderstorms ahead and that it could really be bumpy for the next 20 minutes (the mere suggestion to keep our seatbelts fastened always makes me suddenly die to go to the lavatory) so if I have a sudden lapse in my spelling or judgment, perhaps you’ll kindly attribute it to turbulence.

We’ve had such a great time this weekend with the people we were graced to serve. Our Living Proof Live was in a church this time – Mariner’s Church – and we were so incredibly happy to be back in a house God frequents. They were so kind to us. The sanctuary is very close to the size of mine back home (theirs around 3200, ours ever so slightly larger) so it was a size that feels homey to me. (I know that’s so odd for you guys that have never attended a mega church. It’s not what I would have chosen for myself years ago either but it was God’s will and, this many years later, a joy.) I told this group first thing that it’s always a relief not to feel like we have to get to that city arena as fast as we possibly can and ask God to sanctify it from God-only-knows-what-was-in-it-last. I say that with a smile and not with self-piety as I really do know that we, too, along with every environment of every gathering, can only be sanctified and prepared by God. We’re not one bit worthier of His gracious presence without Him making us so. In fact, I’m fairly certain from the Gospels that He’s more grossed out by a gathering of sanctimonious, self-righteous, proud Christians who presume He’s there than He is by a group that desperately needs Him there. He’s funny that way. I’m not saying He always attends the latter’s gathering, especially if it’s downright sacrilegious, but that He might be apt to zoom there a little quicker if asked.

I love the team I get to work with so much. You surely know after all this time and all these mentions that I love Travis Cottrell (if you want to say the last name right, put the accent on the first syllable) I guess as much as I would if I’d had him (really young). I hate for him to even read that because he gives me such a hard time. Then again, he doesn’t really like to read anything much longer than a tweet (Oh, it made me so happy to say that. It will temper the nice thing I said about him) so there is every possibility he’ll never make it far enough into this post to hear me say publically that I love him. But I do. I also love the rest of the praise team. Generally speaking, they are not as much a part of my life away from the events as the Cottrells but many of us have been together a number of years and we’re close. This weekend in Irvine, we really missed our buddy Seth (who is working on his masters and had a school thing he had to attend). If you’ve ever been to one of the other LPL’s, he’s the other male vocalist on the praise team and so much cooler than the rest of us that we can only stand back slack-jawed over his coolness. I’m smiling because I know he’s going to hate that I said that. He’s not trying to be cool. He just honestly can’t help it.  In his absence, however, we got to have Daniel, a worship leader at another great California church and another of Travis’s really good friends (he’s got a million in case any of us regulars turn against him). We loved him! (Daniel is who I’m talking about now. Try not to lag behind here.)

Now, if we could only get both Seth and Daniel up there at once, it would be almost more than the rest of us could bear. They’re both incredibly gifted. I’m so crazy about the women on the praise team: Lici (to help you picture who’s who, she’s the one who knocks it out on that lead in Travis’s version of “Victory in Jesus” and the one with the darkest tan unless I’m trying a new Sunless and it’s gone awry, which does unfortunately happen from time to time) and Julie (“Revelation Song “ and “How He Loves”) and Angela (oh, good grief, she leads on more than I can list but for a few, “Mercy Seat” and “El Shaddai”).  I am no less crazy about the guys. Besides the ones I’ve already mentioned, there are both Kevins (one on bass and one on the drums) and Alexis (who is Angela’s man and who plays the keyboard with such glad worship that I almost can’t take my eyes off of him, especially if he’s playing while she sings) and then there’s Wes.

I have to stop for a moment and smile about Wes. I love him so much. He’s one of our shier ones so you can imagine what a hard time everybody gives him. This weekend I nearly busted out laughing during the last segment of praise and worship (when it was really upbeat or I wouldn’t have felt the freedom to be laughy) and the camera got right in his face and he turned his (hair-free) head the other direction so they couldn’t capture his expression. You know how guitar players sometimes have to make certain faces to play really well? (I do it myself when I’m playing air guitar at home in front of the bathroom mirror.) He preferred not to be caught with one of those. And I understand and not just from playing the air guitar. From speaking and getting my picture taken or video frozen in the least possible flattery. But I don’t want to talk about it. And don’t you think for one minute I haven’t seen y’all talking about it in your comments to the video greetings so I know for a fact y’all make fun of me, too. Your very own Siesta Mama! Honestly, is there no dignity to be had around here???

Laughing.

OK, well, we’re about to begin our initial descent into the Houston area so I’m going to have to close and put my seat back and tray table into their upright and locked positions. For Heaven’s sake, I meant to get on here and say something of value. Instead I have just invited you into the mindless musings of my bleached blond head. I’ve bored you to sobs. I’m sorry. But I really have good highlights right now.

The real reason I started telling you about the weekend and everybody on the team is because I’m just in a really grateful mood. I even got to stay after the event with a dear friend of mine and go watch her 11 year-old daughter play basketball at the YMCA. All these things together in one weekend was almost more  joy than I could stand. I texted a picture of the game and scoreboard (we won) to AJ and Melissa and they both texted back with, “You are in your element, Mom!”

My heart is mush before the Lord right now. He has again answered the most important petition I ever place before Him: that He’d cause me to love Him and to love His Word and, secondarily (and scarily), to put me in whatever circumstances are best suited to set me up for those things. I say this just for today as I could wake up tomorrow and feel stale and stressed and numb and maybe even a tad ticked and not even sure at whom. I have no guarantees for tomorrow where my fickle emotions are concerned. We learned this weekend, however, not to worry about tomorrow so I can thank God with all my heart that this present day I feel love toward the One who loves me first.

From Charles Spurgeon this morning: Seek, O believer, that every good thing you have may be an abiding thing. May your character not be a writing upon the sand, but an inscription upon the rock!

Please, Abba Father.

PS. As only God could possibly have timed (perhaps He’s getting back at them for making fun of me), when I landed, I received a text with this picture of three of the guys from our praise team dressed to go…well, I guess, snorkeling. (They’re still in California.) I pray this is not their new singing ensemble but it does not look that unlike some of their other suits. Oh, that Trav would have been in this picture too!!

Kevin (drums), Kevin (bass) and, yes, my dear Wes.

I am so happy right now.

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

Good Tuesday morning, Dear Siestas!

I pray your week is off to a great start! Mine started with a powerful sermon by my pastor, Gregg Matte, and an equally fabulous worship service on Sunday next to some of the people I love most in the world. Like numbers of you, I’ve been in the same congregation for many years and have deep investments in relationships there. Within six or seven rows of where we usually sit, I have dear friends from kindergarten to their seventies (yes, in our contemporary service). I’ve known many of the adolescents all their lives and have watched some of the young couples grow up, fall in love and get married. In fact, I stood with a few of them. My church is a wealth to me. I had the privilege of praying with one of my close 8 year-old friends at the altar on Sunday whose granddaddy is in the hospital and has her scared half to death. There’s just no way I can tell you what those moments mean to me.

I’m an early riser by habit but I was dead to the world Sunday morning and way overslept the clock. I got up rubbing my eyes and said to Keith, “Blast it, I’m up too late to get ready for church.” He very uncharacteristically said, “You can make it!” and I got ready in a record 45 minutes. (Keith does not have a churchy background and is not very churchy by routine. He is often very amused if I play hooky then act guilty about it all day. He’ll think of things to bait me then laugh his head off when I fall for them.) I told him never to expect me to get ready that quickly again but I was so glad we went. It was a truly great service.

My man is one of the most unique people I’ve ever known. He’ll say absolutely ANYTHING which means he’s been known to hurt my feelings on (frequent) occasion…but then he sends me a text while I’m out of town with just one sentence: Come home to me. And I do. I love him so much. He also does really unique things. When I got home Saturday night, I saw this pile on the kitchen counter:

He saw me staring and said, “Oh, I cut the fringe off that fancy pillow on the couch.”

I’m sitting here speechless just as I was that night. But I am bent over laughing. That’s my man. He thinks an ounce of pretension is worth a pound of manure.

OK, my other random thing is that I have a new travel case for my Bible and computer. I AM SO HAPPY! Perhaps you are not a traveler and do not understand the great importance of your carry on. It is your best friend on the road. It’s under pressure to meet all manner of requirement like fitting in the overhead and going under the seat and rolling down an Express Jet aisle. It also has to be cooperative in the security line when you’re trying to pull your laptop in and out and put it on the conveyor belt. These are not small matters. It also has to fit the large box of Hot Tamales one of the guys from the production team gives me as a reward at the end of most conferences.

To tell you how challenging it is to find exactly the right bag, I have carried the same one for some 12 – shoot fire, maybe 14 – years. The handle is almost impossible to get up and down any more and it’s beat nearly to oblivion. I love it so much though. It’s been good to me. Loyal. I even feel a little guilty about the rest of this story.

Sabrina, my coworker, has tried so hard to get me a new one through the years but I always have a reason for rejecting this one or that one. About a month ago, Hawk and I were at the airport on the way to a conference when we spied a woman with the cutest powder blue bag I’d ever seen. It had never hit me that my bag could be useful AND darling. What was I thinking??? Anyway, we attacked her, got the information on the brand, and ORDERED THAT BABY. Rich and Ron from the LPL team have helped me haul that one black carry-on all over the United States for years. They were so shocked to see the new one, they were too frozen to even lift it in the car. “Whose is this??”

It’s mine! I just love it! And so far, through two trips, it’s passing all my flying tests. It’s a bit too wide for my taste but its cuteness is giving it the advantage at this point and is making it worth the trouble to turn side-ways down the aisle. I may get annoyed with that after a while. We’ll see how it goes.

My small group and I are loving our Ruth study so far! Like some of you, we are meeting each week with one another and every other week with the Siestas at large. The first week of homework is fantastic. Don’t you love it? If you’re doing a different study this summer, tell us what it is!

I cannot say enough about our St Louis group. They were absolutely incredible. God was so gracious to grant us a strong sense of His Presence. He is all we have to offer. All we have of value. So many Siestas were there! We tried hard to get the Siestas together at the end of it for a clandestine group picture but most of them didn’t see the slide we’d been slipping up on the screen during break times. I didn’t get to meet Sister Lynn and I was so ticked! I did, however, see her beautiful face out there. I also got to meet five of our other regulars who were so darling that I could hardly stand it.

Well, Siestas, I better get off of here and down stairs at LPM for lunch. We’re eating in today. You are on my mind every day. Just wanted to say hello!

My Dear Siestas, I can’t take long with this post because I’m pretty swamped with work and, besides, it’s almost time to go home for the day to my man. I wish I had a unique way to convey what I feel but by the time I think of just the right words, the emotion will probably pass. I’ll just take a messy stab at it before my heart cools off.

At the moment I’m writing this note to you, we’re almost at 1000 comments on the Siesta Summer Bible Study launch. A number of the comments are replies and MANY are glorious solo sign-ins but, even accounting for all of those, we already have several thousand women – in groups or as individuals – doing Bible study together… and barely 24 hours into our journey. Chances are, many others will join us over the next week or two.

You are literally from every corner of the country and from several other parts of the world. You are students, SAHMs, singles, marrieds, and widows. Many have been through painful divorces. Some of you are doctors. Several in med school. Many are teachers. Others of you are missionaries. For those of you who have pictures with your blogger names, you are as different as night and day but as darling as every other. Truly (and I’m not sure how to explain it), I never meet a woman I don’t think is darling. I love all the ages. All the shapes and sizes. Skinny behinds. Wide behinds. Long hair. Short spiked hair. I reckon it’s just because God suited me for women’s ministry.

Anyway, I sat in my bed in my pajamas this morning and checked the blog after finishing my quiet time. We’d had 297 comments come in over night. As I checked each one and read your sincerity and fervor and saw such humility in your self-professed lackings and needs, I shook my head and said out loud to our God, “You must love them so much.” As I watched you reply to one another and invite one another to join in, as I saw you reach out to all our solo girls to make sure they felt completely plugged in, share email addresses with one another and even ask to meet up in person, I nearly started crying. Even now I am choking back the tears.

In a strange sort of way I can’t quite explain, I had a Psalm 8 moment. “Lord, who am I and who are we that You would allow us to join together this wonderfully weird way and seek You? AND FIND YOU, for crying out loud????” The Internet has brought such harm and havoc to individuals and homes but this day I sit in awe of the beauty of several thousand women with hearts knit together in Scripture from all over creation with one lofty aim: to seek Jesus Christ, the Savior of the World. Our Kinsman Redeemer. Our Life and Breath.

We are every denomination. We are all sorts of colors. We come from every possible background. And here’s the part that makes me want to lay on the floor and bawl. (Honestly, I’m about to do the ugly cry.) We have been drawn into all these circles of relationships not based on looks, talents, finances, social status or even denomination. We have been drawn by God through our attraction to one another’s hearts conveyed in simple terms and short lines in blog comments, of all things. Something that didn’t even exist 10 years ago. It first hit me when many of us met for our Siesta Scripture Memory Team Celebration in January. I heard Siestas squeal when they met each other for the first time face-to-face and saw them hug like there was no tomorrow. I watched them huddle  for endless pictures and thought to myself as I savored all the differences in age and type, “Would we have been friends at all if we were out in the world where social decorum strictly dictates? Would we have given each other this chance if we’d known each other’s faces, jobs, and worlds before we knew each other’s hearts?” Maybe. But I don’t think so. I think we are an odd composite study in sociology. What would happen if people could only see each other’s hearts first? Who, then, would become friends?? Just think of all the priceless relationships we miss because we look for those who remind us of us.

It’s been different here in this strange little web town we call Siestaville. And if we’d just lean in a little toward the heart of God and close our eyes for just a moment, I think we’d feel His pleasure. No, it’s not perfect around here because we’re so imperfect. Lord have mercy, I’m so imperfect. Sometimes we misunderstand each other or hurt each other’s feelings but those times are the exceptions. Overwhelmingly, this is as sweet a congregation of women as I believe you could find on Planet Earth.

We are a snapshot of the true church. The girly half, anyway. All different kinds of people attracted strictly by spirit. One Body of believers. One perfect Savior. I do not know why on earth this terrible former pit-dweller has gotten to serve this beautiful community of women – let alone be called it’s mama! – but today I am moved beyond words.

And crying.

Good Monday Morning, My Dearest Siestas!

I hope you had a great and God-filled weekend. I cannot express to you how much I loved watching your interaction with one another in response to Friday’s post. It was one of the most rewarding moments of my, how shall I say?, blog life. I am so honored that God would allow AJ, Melissa and me to be a part of this community of sisters. May He find much joy in what takes place here.

I had a very busy weekend doing one of my favorite things. Jackson and Annabeth stayed with my man and me from Friday morning till Sunday noon while CJ and AJ had an anniversary weekend away. We played, sang, danced, watched movies, read books, and ate snacks for meals for the better part of three days. Wedged in there tightly, we got a little sleep. The kids are super active but so good. AJ and CJ are terrific parents. Both children are affectionate and appreciative and surprisingly polite for their young ages. That’s saying a lot these days. When I went to bed last night, I replayed our sweetest or most memorable moments. I could hardly go to sleep for thinking about them. I took a few pictures with my I-phone which means poor in quality but rich in love.

Jackson is just like his mommy in that he loves to swim. I knew Keith would be gone all day Saturday and I’d be on my own with them so I chickened out of taking them to a public pool. Too many people. Jackson has had two summers of swim lessons but I still wanted him in plain sight at all times and where I never had to take my hands off Annabeth. I asked my dear friend and coworker, Sabrina, if I could bring them to her house because she has a really fun pool in her backyard and she was gracious enough to welcome us.

AB has serious Bibby-itis right now but after about an hour she let Sabrina’s daughter, Kelli, hold her in the water and I got to play with Jackson. This is us. He splits my heart in two.

This is all four of us – Jackson, Annabeth, Kelli, and me – before we called it a day. I do not know what I would’ve done without Kelli. She spent every minute out there with us. I’ve known her and her older sister, Hayli, since they were little girls and they are God-nieces to me. I’m blessed to be called “Aunt Beth” by them.

When Sunday morning rolled around, I knew the big question was upon me. Was I woman enough to get both of those kids to church? And ON TIME??? Some of you saw this picture on Twitter. (Yes, I Twitter now because AJ set me up for my birthday – @BethmooreLPM. I’m limiting myself to two tweets or less a day. If I start misbehaving with it or getting addicted to it, I’m firing myself from it.) I can’t resist showing the picture here as well. This was how AB woke up:

Killed me. By the way, she is a clone of her mother right now. When she was an infant, she looked just like Jackson who looks just like CJ but the older she gets, the more she looks like AJ when she was her age. Anyway, despite the hair malfunction, we did make it to church, bathed, dressed, ON TIME and with all our shoes on. BUT, for the first time in my entire memory, I forgot my Bible. Hahahahahahahahaha. I had to use one of the complimentary copies in the pew. I took no small amount of flack. I even gave it to myself with great glee. If you can’t laugh at yourself, then nobody seems funny.

OK, enough of the weekend recap. TOMORROW IS OUR BIG DAY!! SSBS (Siesta Summer Bible Study) III launches with our first Tuesday gathering. I will give you instructions for our roll call tomorrow. You will also have your regular video-greeting plus written instructions for your group discussion in case you have trouble with the video. Bar some kind of technical problem, you will always find it posted early in the AM for those of you who want to meet mid-morning or over lunch. If you can’t rally a small group, you are welcome to go solo but our hope is that you have some Godly fellowship and accountability this summer. As well, you can meet on any day during the week, but our aim is for as many of us as possible to meet on Tuesdays. Within 24 hours of meeting, we are asking a designated person from your group to write a comment to that post with a brief summary of your time together. This is the accountability part. You’ll understand more about it tomorrow.

I just wanted to give you a heads-up that it’s time to begin! You do not need to do anything in preparation for tomorrow’s gatherings in your small groups. No homework is due. You’ll get your assignment for the first two weeks tomorrow.

This is so exciting, Ladies! Let’s get ourselves in some Scriptures!

Your mama loves you.

What are you girls up to this weekend? It’s a big Jackson and Annabeth weekend for my man and me. Amanda and Curtis are celebrating their anniversary away till Sunday so we are officially ON in every way. And mighty happy about it. AB’s already down for a nap and Jackson has been helping Paw Paw clean the boat. This was something Amanda and Melissa loved to do when they were little, too. The difference was, the girls didn’t want to actually go fishing in it but mark my word. Little man does. If I’ve heard, “Paw Paw, when I’m a bigger boy…” once, I’ve heard it a thousand times. He melts my heart. I guess Bibby’s going to have to break down and go fishing when that time comes. I don’t think I can bear to take my eyes off of him in real fishing water. We’ll see. Jesus could come back by then. Keith just asked if he could take Jackson with him to the boat store to pick up some supplies. Would you believe I have never let the boy out of my sight when I’ve had him in all this time?? What a danged control freak. Keith put up with me saying, “But can you promise me you won’t let go of him for one single second?” so I guess I’m going to have to give it up. I have butterflies. What an idiot.

I love how so many of us who have been around Siestaville a good long time really have made some true, flesh and blood sister-friends, especially if we’ve attended some of the events. Georgia Jan is one of mine. Same age. Kids same age. Grandkids same age. Been married forever. (None of those are prerequisites for friends but it just throws us years forward into a relationship.) Both love Jesus. Over our happy heads in women’s ministry. Flawed but trying. Anyway, she’ll have her grandboy Zeke this afternoon and we wish like mad we could have them together. They are exactly the same age and they’d have such a big time.

Do tell! Anybody else made a real friend on here? This would be such a fun time to hear about it. If you haven’t had the time or opportunity, just tell me what you’re up to this weekend. Chat a while, Siestas.

I sure love you guys.

I loved my devotional this morning. It helped that I actually got to sleep in because I have the day off. Worked all weekend. And I do mean WORKED. I love the Deeper Still events but, because they last a half day longer than a regular LPL’s and the sessions are super long, you go home pretty wiped. Hence the day off. (I don’t take Monday’s off because of staff prayer time.) So, I was really rested when I was sitting propped up in my bed having my prayer time this morning. The Scripture hit me so tenderly that I nearly cried. You know the story. It’s about God’s fulfilled promise to Abraham’s wife, Sarah. Read the portion again and intentionally look at it as a woman because that’s sort of what this post is about. Be amazed and thankful that God has a long history of also making and keeping promises to women.

Genesis 21:1-7 (GW)
1 The Lord came to help Sarah and did for her what he had promised.
2 So she became pregnant, and at the exact time God had promised, she gave birth to a son for Abraham in his old age.
3 Abraham named his newborn son Isaac.
4 When Isaac was eight days old, Abraham circumcised him as God had commanded.
5 Abraham was 100 years old when his son Isaac was born.
6 Sarah said, “God has brought me laughter, and everyone who hears about this will laugh with me.
7 Who would have predicted to Abraham that Sarah would nurse children? Yet, I have given him a son in his old age.”

I got stuck on that part that says, “God has brought me laughter, and everyone who hears about this will laugh with me.” I sat in a carload of women in front of the hotel in Denver Saturday night. We’d just spent all evening together at a restaurant. You might reason that we’d spent all weekend together but we just kept talking a hundred miles an hour and didn’t want to get out of the car. It’s just a woman thing. Our ages ranged well over twenty years but for that moment, we were BFF. Kelly Minter and I were in the back seat and I looked straight at her and said, “Yep. This is what I love about women. I love being a woman.”

Cheesy. I know.

But I do.

I thought it was so cool that Sarah knew that many would laugh with her. If I were a betting woman, I’d wager that she was talking about other women. I can’t see the men really slapping their leg over it, then clapping, and then throwing up their hands and shouting, “Glory!” like me and my buddies would do. I’d bet they just slapped Abe on the back and said, “Way to go, man.” Most of the time, if God’s really done something cool in my life, I like to tell my girlfriends about it because I know they’ll laugh and clap their hands, too. In fact, I intentionally tell the ones that I know will most appreciate it.

It doesn’t have to be something really huge like Sarah’s miracle either. Women can find all sorts of things to laugh with one another over. Here are a few I’ve experienced just here lately:

Melissa: While we were in Israel, we went out in the parking lot to wave good bye to the first half of our group departing for the States. The rest of us would not be going till the next morning. There was a bit of a delay and they had to sit for a few minutes before taking off so I decided to start entertaining them (outside the bus on the pavement) with cheers, a few little dance moves, and kicking my feet to the side and clicking my heels (yes, in a dress. It is a move I do very well). To my great surprise, Melissa got into it with me and up and did two cartwheels for them. (Not in a dress.) It made me so happy that I laughed and laughed. My little budding scholar! I said to her while I bent over laughing, “You have what it takes for women’s ministry, Honey!”

Amanda: Melissa and I always say that AJ is the funniest one of the three of us. She’s just not the extrovert so it’s not as obvious. Here lately she hopped in the car with me on our way somewhere and I said, “What’s that in your hand?” She said, “My Weight Watchers charm. I got it for reaching my goal. I’m going to put it on Annabeth’s charm bracelet so she knows what I had to do to get over her.” I clapped and laughed, not only over AB’s well deserved charm but over AJ’s darling college-looking post-partum figure. A met goal is worth laughing and celebrating together.

Kelly Minter: You know what a big fan I am of Kelly’s. I love her. I love watching these young women teachers come and take their places. I cannot describe my joy or my peculiar feelings of elation over it. I sat on the front row at Deeper Still next to my beloved Priscilla when Kelly took the stage to share a devotional early Saturday morning. As she took that platform, she would speak to more people (by several thousand) than she’d ever addressed before…and she killed it. (I hope you realize that’s a good thing.) Honestly, I pumped my fist in the air and yelled, “Whoo! Whoo! Whoo! Whoo!” Hawk looked around and said, “Did anybody hear her do that but me?” I couldn’t help myself.

A person I can’t name yet: A very dear loved one of mine is expecting her first baby and I am beside myself. I nearly hurt myself with joy when she told me over the phone. I’ve been obsessed with it ever since. I love God for what He’s done in her life. I will love this child next to my own blood grandchildren.

Another really close loved one: She’s the one whose 1-year chip from AA I showed you several weeks ago. God is so busy restoring the years the locusts have eaten in her life that, if He weren’t omnipotent, He’d honestly have no time for the rest of us. We have laughed and laughed over the wonders He has done in her behalf.

What about you? Is there anything wonderful God has done in your life – big or small – that this community of women could laugh with you about? Look back at those Scriptures. Has God done anything for you about which you could say, “God has brought me laughter” or “Who would have predicted…?” Give us the chance to clap our hands and laugh with you.

I’ll close this post with the devotional that accompanied those Scriptures this morning. It’s Charles Spurgeon. It about killed me in the Spirit. I loved it so much. Enjoy, Siestas. Your Mama loves you.

It was far above the power of nature, and even contrary to its laws, that the aged Sarah should be honoured with a son; and even so it is beyond all ordinary rules that I, a poor, helpless, undone sinner, should find grace to bear about in my soul the indwelling Spirit of the Lord Jesus. I, who once despaired, as well I might, for my nature was as dry, and withered, and barren, and accursed as a howling wilderness, even I have been made to bring forth fruit unto holiness. Well may my mouth be filled with joyous laughter, because of the singular, surprising grace which I have received of the Lord, for I have found Jesus, the promised seed, and He is mine for ever. This day will I lift up psalms of triumph unto the Lord who has remembered my low estate, for “my heart rejoiceth in the Lord; mine horn is exalted in the Lord; my mouth is enlarged over mine enemies, because I rejoice in Thy salvation.” I would have all those that hear of my great deliverance from hell, and my most blessed visitation from on high, laugh for joy with me.
Charles Spurgeon, Morning and Evening.

PS. Speaking of things fairly peculiar to women, I thought I might go ahead and tell you that I typed this whole thing standing up in my wrap-around terry cloth robe so my self tanner could dry. I want to be tan on my birthday.

OK, so I wrote you guys a catch-up post this morning from the airport/plane in Houston and pushed “publish” right before they shut the door and made us power down and the internet knocked me off without saving my material. I was so completely annoyed.

Now I am sitting in my hotel room typing as fast as I can because I get picked up in a little over an hour and I am a LONG way from ready. I still have early this morning’s hair, not to mention make up. Not to mention deodorant. I told you this morning what all I’d been doing but no time for that now. I’ll catch you up on stuff later. One of the things I did tell you, however, was how thankful I am to have some big projects behind me (like the Israel trip) so that I can now resume my normal amount of activity in Siestaville. I can’t wait for our summer Bible study to start. I hope so much you’ve acquired your workbooks and that you’re forming small groups, if not in person, on line.

May I also say that I miss our Scripture memory team like crazy and you can rest assured we will pick that back up in 2011? Meanwhile, I have my own spiral going and I hope you do, too. In fact, mine is in my purse right here in my hotel room. Let’s see if I can spit out one of my latest verses without looking. Oh, yeah…

“If I could speak all the languages of earth and angels but didn’t love others, I would only be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. If I had the gift of prophecy and if I understood all God’s secret plans and possessed all knowledge and if I had such faith I could move mountains but didn’t love others, I would be nothing. If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it. But if I didn’t love others, I would have gained nothing. Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude…”

Yep, the Love Chapter. Sometimes it all comes back to that. And, yes, I memorized it years ago and out of the KJV but, based on some feelings I was fighting about four months ago toward someone, it obviously hadn’t fully taken. Sometimes God and I work on new lessons and sometimes we just go back for a refresher on an old one. We’re back.

Anyway, what were we talking about? Oh, I know. I was about to tell you that I’m in Denver for Deeper Still with my friends, Kay Arthur and Priscilla Shirer. I can’t wait to hear what God has to say to all of us through them. And, we are so entirely jazzed to have Kelly Minter joining us this weekend (yes, our summer Bible study author). She is a great joy to me.

Shoot fire, I’m running out of time. I will try to write you guys on my way home Sunday. But I just have to tell you one little thing. I checked into my hotel room and there was a gift bag sitting on the bed. I thought it was a bag of snacks because our event coordinator will often leave one of those in our rooms for Deeper Still. While I was unpacking, I glanced back over at it and realized it said, “Happy Birthday” (not till next week) but I knew then that it wasn’t snacks. I pulled out the purple tissue and WOULD YOU BELIEVE IT WAS AN I-PAD?????????????? I NEARLY FLIPPED!!!! I set it down on my bed and paced back and forth in my room staring at it like it might turn into a pumpkin. I wasn’t going to get one because I just couldn’t justify it. Still can’t. It’s just grace. Plain and simple. Grace. I’m just so-the-opposite-of-ticked.

GOTTA GO!! I’ll write you Sunday.