Hey, Siestas! I have a question rolling around in my mind and I’d love to throw it to my favorite community. Here goes:

What motivates you most effectively?

That’s it. Pure and simple.

Ground rules:
*You can only name one kind of motivation. Think of the one that tends to work on you more often than the others.

*You are asked to name your real, live most effective motivator and not the one you wish you had. (You may honestly respond best to a healthy motivator and, if so, say so! But, if the truth is, you are more often effectively motivated by something negative, please also say so.)

This hint might be of help to some of you as you roll the question around in your sweet head: Think back on times of substantial and lasting change in your life. What motivated the real change? (Of course, we all know that, ultimately, the Holy Spirit brings about transformation, but what did He use???)

You bless me to no end. Watching for your responses!

This was taped in Houston by some wonderful visionaries at Second Baptist Church. To us here in the city, many familiar faces light up the screen. You don’t have to know them to wish you were one of them, though! One of these days, we Siestas will all gather out on a big field and dance our feet off over the grace and glory of Jesus Christ. He is risen!

I love you guys so much.
Beth

God Himself authored annual remembrances. He taught His people from the early pages of Scripture to set aside specific days to deliberately recall His mighty acts. He warned them passionately never to forget what He had done in their behalf and to fear the prospect so vividly that their memories would be sharpened ever again like the blade of a warrior’s sword. For most of us who have been raised in the church and know the hymns and songs of this season by heart, we make the choice to set our hearts and minds once again on the saving, death-defeating acts of Jesus Christ. We ask God to do through His Spirit what only He can do:

Our faithful Abba Father, cause the looming shadow of the Cross to fall afresh on us again. Let us remember with horror how dark our lives would be without the Christ. Roll the heavy stone of our slumbering familiarity away from the empty tomb and wake us up with a shout.

And He hears our prayer.

I awakened this morning to an empty house, my man away for the better part of the day and, early on, I felt the Spirit begin to answer the petition I’d made yesterday. Lord, help me to remember. Move me once again with the power of the Cross.

God reminded me of a portion in the 27^th chapter of Acts when the Apostle Paul and 275 others were aboard a ship in a terrible storm that had raged for many days. We know that, of his cohorts, at least Luke was with him, the ink of his pen filled with brine. Read Acts 27:33-36 for yourself.

Just before dawn Paul urged them all to eat. “For the last fourteen days,” he said, “you have been in constant suspense and have gone without food—you haven’t eaten anything. Now I urge you to take some food. You need it to survive. Not one of you will lose a single hair from his head.” After he said this, he took some bread and gave thanks to God in front of them all. Then he broke it and began to eat. They were all encouraged and ate some food themselves.

Look at that last portion once more:

He took some bread and gave thanks to God…Then he broke it.

Read words from the page of the gospel written earlier by the very same man who penned the Book of Acts:

When the hour came, Jesus and His apostles reclined at the table. And He said to them, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. For I tell you, I will not eat it again until it finds fulfillment in the kingdom of God.” After taking the cup, He gave thanks and said, “Take this and divide it among you. For I tell you I will not drink again from the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.”

And He took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.” Luke 22:14-19

Took bread. Gave thanks, Broke it.

Same words. Same order.

Back to Acts 27.

In the New International Commentary on the New Testament, F. F. Bruce writes…

There is a cluster of words and phrases here – “took bread,” “gave thanks,” “broke it” – which are familiar in a eucharistic setting. This supports the view of many commentators that the meal here described [in Acts 27] was a eucharistic meal. Probably it was so in a limited sense: all shared the food, but to the majority it was an ordinary meal, while for those who ate with eucharistic intention (Paul and his fellow-Christians) it was a valid eucharist: “the bread which we break, is it not our participation in the body of Christ?” (1 Corinthians 10:16)

To the majority it was an ordinary meal.

To the majority of people on Planet Earth today, this is an ordinary day. Malls will keep  humming, Facebook will keep friending, Twitter will keep tweeting, planes will keep flying, tellers will keep telling, businesses will keep selling.

But for those of us who “eat” of this day with Eucharistic intention, and think deliberate thoughts toward a crucified Christ, ours is a valid feast of remembrance.

While others eat this day away like it’s any other day, we savor its bittersweet taste and call it sacred.

Maybe you have long been in a storm with no sun in sight. Right there in all the tossing, surrounded even by those who may ignore Him or mock Him, draw from the Body and the Blood. Let today, even in your pain, be sacred to you and any brokenness, your living sacrifice, and may the heavens open wide with the thundering power of the Cross and drench you with the rain of your long-awaited deliverance.

Do this in remembrance of Me.

Because of the Cross of Christ, Not one of you will lose a single hair from his head.

The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and will bring me safely to His heavenly kingdom. To Him be glory for ever and ever. Amen. 2 Timothy 4:18

This is a prayer I wrote this morning. For me, reading the prayers of others sometimes reminds me of something I, too, want to ask of my Father. We are all His children. We who are in Christ are each invited to “the Throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” I am in need. You are in need. If any of this speaks to the place you are right now, you are welcome to come right here with me and kneel as one who believes and we’ll bring these petitions to our faithful God together.

My Dearest Abba and my Savior and Redeemer, Jesus,

Cause me to be moved and mindful of this death and resurrection season – Of this, the most important annual celebration we commemorate as Your church. Cause me to be awake and aware in You, Lord. I am so grateful for the sacrifice of this One spotless Lamb of God. For just a moment, I try to imagine myself on that same road of suffering with that same cross on my flesh-torn back, pierced, hung, and exposed on that same tree and I shudder.  My sins outweigh my frame, Lord. I am unable to bear them. Thank You, Jesus, for not only bearing the pain but for enduring the shame. You are the single reason I am not weighed down in the suffocating mire of shame every single day of my life. I earned it. I deserved it. I am so grateful, Abba Father, for Your willingness to will and to witness that soul-saving, Hell-defeating act rendered by Your one and only Son. I praise You, faithful, merciful God, and ask to be moved this weekend with meditation, reflection, fresh wonder and renewed victory.

Please pursue each member of my family and me for the full work and benefit of Your Cross and Your resurrection. Please do not yield to our resistance. Appear unmistakably in every place we run. Walk through every door we slam. No addiction need hold us, no affliction need bind us, no suffering need smother us, no defeat need hover over us, no foolish act need define us and death need not haunt us. In the quake of the Cross, hopelessness slipped through the trembling cracks of earth and fell with an everlasting sentence into the bottomless abyss. Graves broke open and the bonds of the guilty fell from their wrists with a breath-taking thud. Because of this day that we, Your church, commemorate, we are free.

We are grateful.

We are aware.

In the saving Name of Jesus Christ,

Amen.

Hey, Sweet Things! I pray this Holy Week finds you full of wonder and meditation over the days of Christ leading up to His death and glorious resurrection. Melissa prayed in staff prayer time yesterday that this week would not just be like every other week. I so deeply Amen that. I don’t say that only to you. I want it to be true of me. We’ll have some posts up later in the week that are oriented to this season of Passion. Until then, something else occurred to me. So much happened last weekend in Little Rock on a heart level that it will have to wait until I can devote substantial time to a post. Several people have contacted the ministry over one of the points I made so, in preparing a resource list for them, I thought it might be helpful to some of you here on the blog, too. I made a challenge to new students of Scripture to start building their personal Bible study library. No matter what our gifts and callings may be, we know from 2 Timothy 3:15-17 that we can’t be equipped for our designated works without a working knowledge of Scripture.

So, where do we even begin? That’s what this post is for. Here are a few staples to start your library and then, Sister, the sky is the limit.

1. A Complete Concordance (like Strong’s).  Find one that corresponds with your translation (Strong’s for KJV, The NIV Exhaustive Concordance, etc.)

2. A good Systematic Theology Book. Here are two great choices:

*Systematic Theology by Wayne Grudem

*Christian Theology by Millard J. Erickson

3.  A good Bible Dictionary – Holman Illustrated Bible Dictionary is terrific. There are also many others.

4.   For beginners: Several two (or few) volume sets of Bible Commentaries (My mentor started me on The Bible Knowledge Commentary, Old Testament and New Testament Volumes, but there are plenty out there. Your pastor may be able to recommend a set that is most reflective of your church’s approach.)

*You can access many commentaries free of charge online: BibleGateway.com, BlueLetterBible.com, etc.

5.   The 1^st multi-volume set of commentaries I’d recommend is The Expositor’s Bible Commentary (12 Volume Set). They are consistently well written, thought provoking and really practical for teachers. You also don’t have to know basics about the original languages to understand them (They give good insights into the original languages and frequent definitions but the authors are not assuming you have a working knowledge of Hebrew or Greek). If you really love that set and want to keep going, the next step I’d take would be the full volume sets of NIVAC (NIV Application Commentary) and NAC (New American Commentary). Want to keep going?? The next step after that (where you’ll more often need some basic knowledge of original languages) is the Word Biblical Commentary series and New International Commentary of the OT/NT series. And it goes on and on, Sweet Thing! And it’s a head spinner and a blast.

6.  A Comparative Study Bible with multiple translations listed side-by-side.

And, then, start saving your money for Bible Software.   Melissa and I have personally used the following programs and would happily recommend them to you:

• Logos (Beth)
• Wordsearch (Beth)
• BibleWorks (Melissa)
• Accordance (Melissa)

Last thing:

A few of my favorite foundational books about the Bible are:

Baxter’s Explore the Book

Fee and Stuart’s How to Read the Bible For All It’s Worth

Fee and Stuart’s How to Read the Bible Book by Book

Last Last thing (this is Melissa now):

In terms of selecting commentaries, I highly recommend purchasing and consulting John Glynn’s book Commentary & Reference Survey. Glynn’s book will help you make the most of your money when you purchase commentaries and reference works.   The book is basically one massive biblical studies bibliography and he updates it often.  I think it is already in its tenth edition or something.  When it comes to commentaries, not all volumes in a series are written equally.  In other words, some are better than others and so you may not want to purchase an entire series.  Sometimes you can grab an entire series for a great price but other times it isn’t economical or necessary. Instead, you may want to pick and choose individual volumes within a series and Glynn will help you do just that. Also check out www.bestcommentaries.com for a similar idea online.  It is an amazing website.  My favorite feature is the “forthcoming commentaries” tab where you can browse through the commentaries that are due to be published over the next few years.  Also, it goes without saying that commentaries, just like every written work, should be read carefully and critically.  If they are read in such a manner, they can be invaluable to one’s study of the Bible.

A very basic beginner’s biblical/theological library might look a little bit like this:

Are we having fun yet??

We sure love you.

Packing my bags for my childhood home. My soul is stirred up like a mixer on high in a bowl full of cake batter splattering all over the kitchen. I feel gratitude. Grace. Homesickness. Happiness. Sadness. I have hard memories. I have wonderful memories. I have a faithful Savior who has promised to meet with us this weekend. Heading back to where you were raised rouses up all sorts of things. I love those hills and I am profoundly blessed and humbled to head back to Arkansas. Land of Opportunity. Arkansas, oh, what you do to me. Prettiest place I ever saw. Yep, I’m going back home to Arkansas.

Because of our wonderful Siesta Scholarship Fund, we have the joy of offering comp tickets to the Living Proof Live event Friday night and Saturday till noon to the first 20 Siestas who call our LPM office during business hours. If you would like to come to Little Rock LPL but can’t afford a ticket, call toll free 1-888-700-1999 and ask for Kimberly or Susan. And tell them I told you how much I love them and appreciate them when you call.

I’m crazy about you guys. Thanks for praying for us! Your surveys were incredibly insightful so rest assured that I am taking you with me in spirit this weekend.

Hey, Darling Things. Let me blurt out from the beginning that you guys are so dear to me. I genuinely love this community with a heart full to the brim. Your comments to Sunday’s post drew me in, made me smile, and some of them made me laugh out loud. Per the question, how far was I from the little farm house when the rancher saw me and reported me in certain peril to my man, several miles. Keith and I are still amused by it but we are thankful for such good neighbors. Just when we think we’ve gotten a little more normal, something reminds him and me that we are caricatures that could be fodder for the weirdest sitcom on network television. Shiver. I’m just picturing my character’s hair. And the size of her Bible. And, eewwww, the accent. And picture the double barrel shotgun in Keith’s character’s hand. But, if they show him without a shirt, cry foul because that’s not my man. Never, I do mean NEVER would my man go without a shirt outside the shower. Nor does he respect a grown man that does. (Unless he’s in his swim trunks and those better come nearly to the man’s knees.) He also gives the stink eye to a grown man that wears his shirt open two buttons. That’s not cool to Keith. And if the man has on a gold chained necklace, you best keep him out of Keith’s path all together. OK, Lord, have mercy. How do I get off on all this stuff? It’s y’all that bring this out in me.

Here’s the reason why I’m posting today. I’m looking to my favorite community for insight regarding this weekend’s event and maybe, if any of it pertains, for insight toward the taping for James in May. (Much more on that later because I really, really want to enlist your prayers.) These are my two questions and please notice that they pertain to two different groups among you.

1. To anyone in our blog community: This one’s wide open. Have you ever experienced a painful breakage in a close relationship you had with another believer? I’m especially talking about relationships that you believed at the time to be woven together by the bonds of Christ but something happened that resulted in a fissure. If so, WITHOUT DIVULGING ANYTHING THAT WOULD IDENTIFY YOUR PERSON, what happened? And here’s a really important part of it: did the relationship mend or did you go your separate ways? Please stick to one meaty paragraph because I want to read every single entry. If it’s too long, I’ll have to skip it. Remember, no names or pieces of information that people can track. We never want to dishonor anyone on this blog. So that I can differentiate between answers to this question and those to the next, please start your comment with the word “Relationship.”

2. Limited just to the people attending this weekend’s LPL in Little Rock, Arkansas: I’d love to already have a few of your stories in mind for this weekend. In a compact paragraph, would you please tell me your first name, your general age group, whether you are married or single, and your biggest concern or challenge right now? Please keep in mind that I could very well share it with the entire group as an example of the kinds of things we’re dealing with in our audience so your comment will act as your permission. Please, please don’t leave a comment I can’t share or I could end up getting it confused with the others and telling it by accident. Remember, you are entrusting your personal information to Blonder Than She Pays To Be. Also don’t make stuff up as a trick so you can get a kick out of it when I tell it. Yes, people do stuff like that on blogs and it’s totally lame. Don’t do it here. So that I can differentiate between this answer and the ones to the previous question, please start your comment with the word “Little Rock.” If you are also answering question 1, please do it in a separate comment. This will help me immensely as I peruse the survey.

You guys are rock stars to me. Thank you so much. May all of this information and everything else that happens on this blog ultimately bring greater fame to the powerful, healing, saving Name of Jesus Christ.

Our Lord.

And Savior.

Hey, Sweet Things!

My man and I are on our way home from cactus land and I thought I’d spend part of it writing to you. And you know what that means: rambling. Any time I just open up my Mac and start writing to you woefully free of all forethought, you can count on a whole lot of words about next to nothing. So, unless you’re bored to oblivion with what you’re doing, you might want to run for your life now and save the headspace.

As I write to you, I’ll keep you posted on where we are. You don’t think you care but, once you hear some of these names, you might feel differently. They’re nearly life changing. For instance, right now we are going through Hext, Texas (I do not know if the area has an ancient history of witchcraft or what. Nor do I know if, once you’ve been hext, you can be un-hext. But I feel like you can.) One good firm turn to the right will take you to London. In just a few hours, you could be in Paris. These are just a few of the reasons why many people here believe that the world ends at the Texas border.

We have now come to Koocksville. This is the street Keith and I may have been born to live on.

It was just across from this very sign that Keith showed me this proud display of dried catfish heads.

On through Mason.

Over Comanche Creek.

It’s Sunday just before noon and we’ve been in Mesquite country since Thursday. The heat index could turn an ox-blooded man to Jesus. It’s too early for this furnace but who am I to say? God is in control of the thermostat and I’ve become convinced He considers the heat an effective evangelism tool. Keith and I have had so much fun. Simple fun. Like long walks in the morning but not without snake boots…

…and long rides in the evening in the old golf cart. The steamy mid part of the day takes us into town to eat at one of two restaurants in the small community. The second day we eat at the one we missed the first day. They are both so incredibly good that we think about them when we’re back home in the food capital of the universe. We’ve made our second home in this land long enough now for some of the locals to talk to us when they see us. Deeply satisfying to two dyed-in-the-wool city souls who long for the country. These folks around here are the salt of the earth sort. They work hard and forego fancy. Impressively, one of the two restaurants has free wifi so, call them small but don’t call them disconnected.

I love being on a road trip with Mr. Ivan Keith Moore, son of Marcell John Moore, the plumbing legend of Houston. My man is a history fiend. He knows where every battle in Texas history was fought and where the cattle were run and who the cowboys were that ran them. I love to hear the story of how the buffalo were taken from the JA Ranch in Palo Duro Canyon (near Amarillo) all the way due north to Wyoming and, every time we’re in that great State and see buffalo, he likes to tell me that those hefty beasts bleed Texas blood. By no means does he disrespect Wyoming. Nay! It is, hands down, his favorite state second only to – put your hand on your heart – the land of his great, great grandfather’s birth.He just somehow thinks that what he loves most about Wyoming is that it reminds him of Texas…but with mountains. Big ones.

While we drive these long roads, Keith tells me stories about men like Charles Goodnight and Oliver Loving, cattle ranchers that Keith believes were prototypes of the characters on Lonesome Dove. Loving made Goodnight swear he’d bury him in Texas but wounds from an old fight wouldn’t heal and ended up killing him slowly with gangrene until he gave up the ghost in Fort Sumner, New Mexico. More practical than sentimental, the folks surrounding him when he breathed his last hastened to put his rigid body into the ground before the animals ate him. A man of his word, Charles Goodnight returned from a trip to Colorado, had his friend’s body exhumed and hauled it back to Texas in a pine box packed with charcoal. I don’t suppose you’d want me to also share tales about a man named Shanghai Pierce who went from a stowaway on a ship in New York harbor to owning some million acres in the Lonestar State.

We take these roads to cactus country to get our heads on straight. We go to hear ourselves think. We go to hear what God might say if you shut up and let Him do the talking. We go to see the black night skies light up with ten thousand stars. We go to hear the birds sing and, this time of year, watch dozens of hummingbirds migrate right through our property. I wish I’d been able to capture six of them at once with my i-Phone but they move like lightening.

We go to sleep late…and to sleep good. I planned to work while I was there for four days but I never did. My bones said, “Just sit and smile and rest.” So I did.

Driving now through Llano. Beautiful Llano. We were going to stop at Cooper’s BBQ but the line was literally out the door and down the sidewalk. Sure smelled good.

“We’re a third of the way home, ‘Lizbeth.”

Keith always keeps me up on the progress. To my man, a road is not something you take. It’s something you conquer.

Lunch here in Burnet, Texas.

Got to meet a darling young couple that serve at a church in Liberty Hill and their six and a half year-old Savannah who was missing one tooth. I do love me a six year-old girl child about more than anything on this earth. Except a certain five year-old boy and two year-old girl that I am particularly partial to. Can’t wait to get home to them.

Keith can’t get a good country western station to come in right now so he just turned up “Staying Alive” by the BeeGees. Out of the corner of my eye, I’m seeing that college boy I danced with under the disco ball 33 years ago. Just when I think I’ve got the man figured out, he goes 70’s on me. We’ve gotten to the part of the song where Keith doubts the singer’s manhood. “Ahhhhhh-oooooohhhh, I’m going nowhere. Somebody help me…”

Well, my man and I are not going nowhere. We’re going home. No place like home. The best part of going on a road trip. And, lucky for you, I’m almost out of battery. All this rambling means nothing if you don’t have Jesus. He’s life to me whether I’m in the city or the country, in plenty or in want, in pain or so tickled I can’t sit up straight. He’s kept Keith and I ring-fingered for 32 years. He keeps life adventurous for two souls that get bored easy. He keeps our boots on tight and our tires rolling. I love Him so much.

Just a few last shots for anyone who’s hung in here by a thread:

Don’t worry, Keith saved it from becoming Dog Dinner. Me on a long walk. A rancher saw me from afar and hopped in his truck to go tell Keith that my car must be broken down and he’d better go fetch me. He couldn’t fathom that a woman with any sense would just be strolling around out there.

A peek at the gorgeous, grass-green San Saba River really close to our place. Keith and I float on inner tubes in this spot in the summer.

Cucumber Cactus. So shockingly gorgeous amid all the gray and green.

A spider sack attached to our porch screen. More spider babies than you can count will start crawling out of that thing in a few days. Most of them will probably crawl into the house but I’ll deal with that next time we come.

Gentle evenings and maybe the number one reason why we come.

You guys are such great sports. I’m crazy about you. Thanks for chatting me home. I wish every single one of you were in this blue Ford truck with my man, our two hounds, and me. We’d try to show you a good Texas time.

No time to proofread! My laptop is sho-nuff shutting down! Talk to you soon.

Hey Ladies,

I was just missing you and thinking of you all and thought I would do a quick catch-up on my life since it has been so long.

Life for Colin and me over the past few months has been a bittersweet transition, a combination of missing our first home together in Atlanta and fully embracing this new season God has for us with both hands.

Here are just a couple of reasons I miss my life in Atlanta:

Friends.

Friends

Friends

And, friends. Especially friends who can cook like this one:

Here are just a couple of reasons I love my life in Houston:

Getting to know my Aunt Gay again after many years. The purest redemption I have ever witnessed.

Sunshine with Mom.

Jackson.

Watching Amanda transform into an impromptu barista at Bible Study:

Fighting with Mom over our favorite coffee cup at work.

Wearing my favorite slippers at Living Proof. They’re really feminine, right?

Tex Mex.

Tex Mex.

And, oh my goodness gracious, Tex Mex.

Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo. Thank you, Roxanne Worsham.

Watching Jackson bond with his lizard who he first named “Lizard” and then, later, “Longtail.”

Annabeth Jones.  She is too busy and wiggly to take pictures but here are a few.

She is the cutest thing on two legs.

Also, she has taken to domestic life. Who knew?

Generations before and generations after.

My Pawpaw and Memaw.  My Pawpaw is in his hard hat with his house plans watching his new house get framed exactly like he wants it.  The two of them were sitting in folding chairs watching 6 men work.  A classic moment.

And here is one very good reason I love my life no matter where I am:

In addition to the big move from Atlanta to Houston, the biggest change in my life is that I am back at the Living Proof offices writing some small segments for the James study with Mom. I was joking on Twitter the other day that I am able to write about one sentence per every fifty pages Mom writes. It is a slight exaggeration, but not much. I am a very slow writer and Mom is a machine. She has to repeatedly tell me, “Remember you don’t have to say everything to say something.” This is probably the best piece of advice I have gotten since I started the project. I think about it multiple times per hour.

Over the past several years I have grown quite comfortable with working at the research level. It is nice and convenient. I can remain detached from the conclusions and implications of the data with which I am working and can’t be held responsible since Mom is the author and I am not. I am smiling right now because I know Mom would be smiling at that comment. But, seriously, writing is a different beast. It is vulnerable. I feel stripped and exposed. I am finding that it takes a whole lot of courage. The ugly truth is I am inordinately afraid of making a mistake. And this is not humility, folks, but a very sneaky and dark form of pride.

In Madeleine L’ Engle’s reflections on writing, she quotes a few lines from Anton Chekhov’s letters that have been restorative to me in this new process: “You must once and for all give up being worried about successes and failures. Don’t let that concern you. It’s your duty to go on working steadily day by day, quite quietly, to be prepared for mistakes, which are inevitable, and for failures” (Anton Chekhov quoted in Madeleine L’ Engle, Herself, 72). Just reading that is liberating.

While I obviously think writers and teachers should think carefully through content and style, perfectionism really is incapacitating. And it can become an idol. All that to say, I am practicing the art of being patient with myself.

So, that is me and probably a lot more than you wanted to know.

How are you?