Help, Please???

Hi! My name is Elizabeth. I started a blog. But have I written on it lately? No, because I am a crazy, workaholic person who gets home at night and is boring! Lol, not really, but in all honesty, I have been busy and irritated and tired and really wanting a cheeseburger. Not a fabulous combination in my opinion.

So to cheer myself up and to bolter my self-discipline regarding greasy hamburgers, I decided to blog. Not necessarily because I think people want to read it, but because writing is my therapy. I can admit on paper that I am slightly deranged and at time odd, and then delete it and write something else…. Or, I can blog whatever is on my mind and solidify my apparent excentric behavior for the world to see. It is a beautiful thing!

I have now been sitting here for almost half an hour writing some spiritual stuff about being content. Yes, I was talking to myself more than anything, but then I realized for the past week I have been really heavy, and maybe even slightly depressing… Definitely Negative Nelly, and possibly even a little Debbi Downer…. So….I need a lift. A joyous, spiritual lift from the Lord! And what is so awesome about my Jesus, is that He knows exactly what will lift my spirits. And while talking about contentment is all well and good, I was becoming a little preachy... and I didn't really feel like listening to my own three point alliterated outline, so I perceptively came to the realization that everyone else might not want to read it either. So instead of saying what "I" think I should say, let's just chat. That's always more fun anyway!

I was going to go spend time with friends this weekend, but…since I don’t feel so hot, and I feel the need to “de-people”, I’m going to be a homebody this weekend. By the way, “de-people” is my new term for – “no I do not want to learn anything more about trust funds, insurance payments, petty cash, etc. I do not want to answer anymore phones, and I do NOT want to use the phrase 'Just take a left after the fishtank' in a sentence for a very long time”. For people I work with, this will make sense, but for those I don’t….. please don’t ask, I don’t want to explain, because that is another thing I don’t want to do….lol

I was looking through my poems, and found one that was appropriately light hearted enough for my much needed pick me up, but still brought home a spiritual promise I have been trying to remind myself of all week. Because after all, catching myself when I start to preach, doesnt mean I dont still claim the promises from Jesus. It just means I share, instead of tell.

I wrote it one night in college when I was feeling especially overwhelmed. I put all of the irritating and frustrating things I could think of together and made them rhyme. In a way, it helped me gain perspective on my own frustrations. Because at the time, I couldn't find humor in them. I guess in a way, I deflected, but sometimes, I think that helps. Momentarily anyway...

None of these things happened in any particular order, but through writing it, I realized it’s the little things that tend to push us over the edge.

It’s not the fact that the engine fell out of our car that causes us to go crazy, it is the fact that once the engine DOES fall out, the wind shield wipers won’t stop going back and forth at 60 miles an hour.

Who cares that the engine is rolling down the hill at light speed, destroying everything in its path,  it’s the crazy wipers that won't slow down that drives you to tears….

And do not ask me how this even makes sense, because right now… I have no idea... I am just riding the wave...

Here’s my poem, thanks for reading, and now I’m going to go eat chocolate. Because I need it. The endJ

Help…..Please???

This morning I got out of bed and stubbed my baby toe,

My sunburn from just yesterday, it really has a glow.

I walked into the bathroom and ran into the wall,

And as I tried to shave my legs, I slipped and had a fall!

A cowlick came from who knows where, and it would not behave,

My bleeding legs just wouldn’t stop from that awful shave!

An acne tree was blooming upon my very head,

My sister lost my makeup; I want to shoot her, dead!!!

All the buttons on my shirt, popped off and rolled away,

And right now I am asking, “why did I wake up today?”

At school the boy I liked, asked out my bestest friend,

I flunked a quiz in algebra and prayed the day would end.

Oh gym class, it was awful, I missed every ball they pitched,

At home I snuck some cookies and my little brother snitched!

Sometimes we feel that everything is simple going wrong,

We close our eyes and plug our ears and sing a little song!

“Jesus loves me, this I hope;

help me not to be a dope,

This day is, well, it’s not too hot,

Can’t we please just have a talk?”

Why on earth does every thing have to be so hard?

All I need’s a hug, a kiss, and I think…a Hallmark card?

God just laughs and holds me close, tucked beneath His chin,

“Child, please don’t worry, I’m always deep within.”

When you feel discouraged, alone and so afraid,

Just open up your Bible to the promises I’ve made.

I will never ever leave you, what time you are in pain,

Lean on me and take my hand and comfort you shall gain.

So when it seems that life just stinks and everything’s a flop,

Turn to God, clean up that mess with Jesus’ special mop!!!

By Elizabeth Alm

September 20, 2008 – 12:30am

Not Too Small (Part 2)

Not Too Small (Part 2)

During the months that past, Rachel became accustomed to the routine in Naaman’s household. Her mistress was kind and fair, and Rachel never wanted for anything. Rachel was even able to tell her mistress about the Lord God on occasion.

One morning as Rachel came into her mistress’s chamber, she found her mistress in tears upon her bed.

“Mistress, what is wrong?”

“Oh Rachel,” moaned her lady. “My husband has leprosy. Whatever are we going to do?”

Rachel had nothing to say to her mistress. She knew what happened to people with leprosy. They were shunned from their families because the disease was so easily spread. They had to live in a leper colony and wait to die. Rachel had never wanted to be taken from her family, but she had developed a sincere love for her master and his wife. She did not want anything to happen to them. Suddenly, she had an idea.

“Mistress, I know of a prophet in Israel that can help my master. He follows the Lord God closely and can be of help in this situation.”

Her mistress’s eyes lit up as she listened to Rachel’s words.

“Come child, we must tell the master at once.”

As soon as Rachel and her mistress presented Naaman with the idea, a letter was immediately sent to the king of Israel. Naaman was told to go see Elisha the prophet. Naaman and his caravan prepared to leave as soon as possible. On the morning of their departure, Rachel approached her master and said,             

“Master, may the Lord God go with you and keep you. You are in my prayers.”

Naaman looked at Rachel with a puzzled look in his eyes. He kissed his wife good bye and mounted his horse. As they pulled away from the house, Rachel prayed with all of her heart that Naaman would see the truth of God.

A few days later, a cloud of dust came rolling down the road as Naaman and his men returned. Rachel ran into the house calling for her mistress.

“My lady, my lady, they’re home, they’re home!!!!”

Upon hearing Rachel’s cries, the Naaman’s wife ran for the door, just in time to be gathered into the arms of her husband.

“Naaman,” cried his wife. “You are healed!!!”

“Yes my dear wife, I am healed by the hand of the God of Israel.”

Rachel began to smile from ear to ear. Praise the Lord! Her master saw the power of God and acknowledged His presence. It was such a great beginning.

“Thank you Rachel,” said Naaman as he approached Rachel. “Thank you for telling me of Elisha and your God.”

Rachel humbly bowed her head and murmured her thanks as well. As her master and mistress left to go tell the others in the household, Rachel lifted her eyes to the sky and began to praise the Lord. Just as Rachel had not known what would happen when she was taken from her home, and just as she had not known what would happen when her master went to visit the prophet, Rachel did not know what the rest of her life would bring. She did not know if she would ever go home, or if she would ever see her family again, but what she did know was that the Lord would always remain faithful to her and that she would always remain faithful to Him. As Rachel turned to enter to the house, she glanced behind her once more just in time to see the tiny rainbow forming on the horizon, yet another constant reminder of God’s love, protection and thoughtfulness for us.....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I finished reading the story to the girls, I glanced up, only to see every single eye trained on me. I felt an overwhelming feeling of unworthiness as I realized these sweet young girls were hanging on to every word I said. It was an incredible responsibility. Sometimes I don’t think we take ministring to people as seriously as we should. I know at times, I don’t. Just taking a moment to realize that what comes out of your mouth could forever impact someone’s impression of Jesus…. Wow….

As excited as I was that the girls seemed to so thoroughly enjoy the lesson, there were a few more things I wanted them to take with them when they left… Three traits they all had in common with this young girl. Three traits that some already had, and that all of them were becoming.

1.       This girl was courageous

Proverbs 3:5 Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. 6 In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.

Psalms 56:3 What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee.

I told them, that, most likely this young girl shed many tears over her situation. And she most definitely worried about the future, but the key was that she didn’t give up because she knew her God was stronger than all of her fears and heartache.

2.       This girl was tenderhearted

James 2:8  If ye fulfil the royal law according to the scripture, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself, ye do well:

This girl had apprehensions. I mean, who wouldn’t, but I told the girls that bitterness and hatred did not follow her fears. Instead, what followed her fears was love. Love for people who didn’t love her back, at least not right away. Compassion for people who showed absolutely none for her family and homeland, and mercy when she could have left her knowledge unshared and let Naaman die a horrible and shameful death. These girls lived constantly with people who didn’t care about them or their needs, and I didn’t want to see them grow up to be bitter and angry when I knew that God could take the most horrible of situations and use it for his glory.

3.       This girl was young

Psalms 139:14 I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well

Often young children are discounted for that very fact, they are young. They may be small and weak in body, but more often than not, children are stronger and more resilient in spirit than most adults. One area in which they are not weak though, is in the area of potential. I wanted my girls to see the potential in themselves. I could see it from miles away, but when you are constantly told that you stupid and worthless, you start to believe it.

I ended with inviting my girls to come to Jesus if they had not already done so. And if they had, to commit to learning from this young girl who was in many ways, just like them. When I hugged all my sweet girls goodbye that afternoon, I was struck with how blessed I was to know all of them. I know, for that Saturday afternoon, I was the instructor, but in preparing for the lesson, they had been the ones teaching me. Their life circumstances commanded me to step outside the norm of what I knew and was familiar, and to delve into understanding life from someone else's perspective. Without them, I wouldn’t have understood bravery or joy the way I do now. Without them, I would not have learned to laugh at myself and ignore the checklist that we at times so diligently follow. I may have taught them the Scriptures, but they taught me to live.

“To my girls: I may never see you again this side of eternity, but I want to thank you for making a difference in my life, and for being patient with me as I tried to make one in yours. I love you all….”

Not Too Small (Part 1)

When I was in college, I had the privilege of working with some of the most amazing girls in the world. My minstry for two years was Saturday Bus Class. Like most Baptist churches, Lancaster had busses that picked up kids and brought them to church every weekend. The only difference was, soo many kids wanted to come, they had to split the programs into Saturday and Sunday. The fun part about Saturday was that it was more relaxed, things werent quite and rushed and we were able to get to know some of our girls on a more personal level. My girls were around 4th-6th grade and full of energy and spunk. I loved them.

Now, when you are teaching a classroom full of kids who have grown up in church, the struggle can be to find new and interesting ways to tell them the same stories that they have heard a hundred times before. With girls who haven't grown up hearing those stories, the challenge is to explain Jesus to them in a way that they will truly understand who HE is.

You see, if I were to tell my girls that Jesus is like a father, it most likely won't be a comforting thought for most of them. For a lot of them, their fathers were in jail, not around, abusive, dead beat, mean.... And that is not what Jesus is to us at all.

So not only could I not come at it from that angle right away, but I had to break it down and be clear and simple. Because large words and spiritual verbage were not going to mean a lot to them. All in all, it was a wonderful lesson for me. It helped me get a fresh perspective on Christ, when it would be so easy to become complacent and prideful in my own spirituality.

One Saturday, my friend Kendall, who was the teacher, asked if I wanted to teach the following week. I was nervous, but I still wanted to do it. You see, I love to teach, and these girls were like little sponges. Even if they were pretending not to listen. We found that out when 90% of them could recite ALL ten commandments after we studied them.

All week I prayed about what I should share with them... I thought about what could be most applicable to their situation, and to what they could best relate. Then I started thinking about Bible stories with young girls. I remembered the young girl who became a maidservant to Naaman's wife. She had been taken from her home, forced to be with people who hated her. Hatred not from who she was, but WHO she represented. This might work. Some of my girls were in foster homes, split homes, homes where their mom always had a new boyfriend.... Just like the girl in the story, their situations weren't ideal, or what they had dreamed of.

But I didn't want to just tell them the story... I wanted it to come alive for them... So the Lord gave me an idea... What if I took some literary liberty, and rewrote the story from the girl's point of view? I would keep to the Biblical account, but I could add possible scenarious to help them really see the story.

So I started writing, and put together about 3 pages for my lesson. To say I was nervous would be an understatement, but I also know God's Word doesn't return void, and that He would be the one guiding this lesson, not me.

So here is part 1 of the story, and maybe in the next few days I'll post part 2 and let you know how the girl's and my friends responded.... Enjoy....

Not Too Small

Rachel huddled down farther between the mat and the wall. Maybe, just maybe she could shrink down far enough to block out the screaming and crying of the women and children.  For two days, the Syrian army had been plundering and pillaging their village. Just last night, Rachel’s own parents had been taken captive. Rachel closed her eyes, and began to remember the details of the previous evening.

“Rachel, please go out into the storehouse and grab me some more barley. I don’t have enough for the meal.”

“Yes Mother,” answered Rachel.

She hurried out the back door to carry out the task for her mother. Just as she reached the storehouse,  she heard a scream. Dropping her basket, Rachel rushed back to the house. As she approached the backdoor, Rachel saw her father and mother being forced out the front door by a Syrian soldier. Rachel opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. She didn’t know how long she stood outside, but soon the chilling winds and the grumblings from her stomach brought her back to reality. Rachel slowly made her way into her now empty house and curled up on her parent’s mat and fell into a fitful sleep.

Wiping tears from her eyes, Rachel began to think about what she would do when the army finally left her village. Just as she was beginning to formulate a plan, angry voices were heard outside her kitchen window.

“I don’t understand why we have to check all the houses again. We know that we got all the Jewish scum anyway”

“Because Captain Naaman told us to that’s why. Now you take that house and I’ll take this one.”

Not wanting to get taken with the rest of her village, Rachel hurriedly stood and prepared to make a break for the back door. Just as she was about to leave her door shattered into a million splinters as the Syrian soldiers broke into her home.

“Well… what have we here?” growled the soldiers as he glared at Rachel with hate filled eyes.

Rachel held her breath, afraid to move, not knowing what would be ahead of her this night. Just as the soldier approached Rachel, a loud horn sounded in the streets. Upon hearing the horn, the soldier jerked Rachel up by her arm and dragged her outside.

“Jewish scum. They are nothing but problems for us to deal with every day of our lives. It's just another problem of this stupid war.”

Tears began to fill Rachel’s eyes. They were not tears of pain or even tears of hurt over the Syrian’s cruel words, rather they were tears of fear. Rachel didn’t think that she would ever see her homeland or her family again.

After a grueling day of journey, the army and all of the captives stopped to rest for the evening. Rachel didn’t think that she could go another step without a bite to eat. Just as she sat down on a rock to catch her breath, she heard someone yelling and screaming at her.

“What do you think that you are doing?”  yelled the soldier. “You’re not here for a vacation, I need my uniform cleaned.”

As the soldier continued to rant and rave, Rachel saw a tall, commanding man approach the screaming soldier.

“Marcais,” said the man. “What do you think you are doing?”

“Um…well… you see sir... I was just… um… I was just making sure that our prisoner was earning her keep.”

“I don’t believe I asked you to make sure that this young woman was earning her keep by seeing to your personal needs and responsibilities.” Answered the man with a firm and determined look in his eyes.

Rachel stood there dumbly, not knowing what to do. The giant of a man stepped closer to Rachel and knelt down in front of her.

“Well little one, you must be hungry. Let’s go get you some nourishment.”

After her belly was full, the man, whom Rachel learned was Naaman, the captain of the Syrian army, spoke to Rachel about her future.

“My wife is in need of a maid to see to her daily needs. I believe you are capable of the job. You will be well taken care of and all of your needs will be met.”

 Rachel knew that she should be grateful, but she really did not want to be thankful when these men had taken her from her home and now expected her to care for their selfish spoiled wives.  Just as Rachel was about to respond in anger to Naaman, a still small voice spoke to her.

“Do not fear my little one. I am with you always and I have great things planned for you.”

Twas the Night Before Christmas

I consider myself to be a fairly organized individual. I make a to do list, I have my bills on my calendar. I manage my time somewhat efficiently at home as well as work. All in all, I’m pretty productive, I think… Yet somehow, once again, the Christmas season snuck up on me. Truth be told, my mind wasn’t really on the holidays, even though Christmas is one of my most favorite times of the year. It wasn’t until my best friend was talking about Christmas gifts that I realized, “Oh yeah, I need to buy some of those!”

So I sat down to plan my gift giving enterprise. But as I sat there, I had to ask myself, “Why have I not been thinking about the holidays?” “Why am I not as excited as I normally am?”

Now, I know that many people will either be really spiritual, or really honest, meaning….

 Some people say in one breath, “You should be thinking about Jesus and His birthday, not gifts.” When inside they care JUST as much about gifts as the next person, and will even be offended if you don’t get them something.

Then you have those people who will just come right out and hand deliver you their Christmas gift list, because they have no shame in the fact that they wait all year to get their wish list fulfilled, lol.

But as I sat there pondering my slightly apathetic attitude towards the holiday, I took that moment to really examine myself. Not to give myself a guilt trip because I wasn’t more focused on the birth of Christ, or to think about what I REALLY wanted for Christmas. Instead, I had to be honest with myself and admit that I had allowed work to become a sole priority in my daily life.

Now don’t get me wrong, I truly enjoy and find fulfillment in my work, and I know without a doubt that it is where the Lord has me. But I realized that I am putting so much into it, that I am losing sight of the other things that are important to me. And I didn’t like that very much…

The Lord has blessed me with a very full and wonderful life, but I had become a little one tracked in my day to day activities. I was so focused on work and the tasks of the day that I wasn’t even stopping to enjoy the festivities and joy around me.

I know that the holidays are not all about gifts, but I still want to find joy in giving them to others. Because for me, it is a simple way to show the people around me that, despite the craziness of this world, they are still important to me.

And while I know that we celebrate Jesus’ birth, I don’t want to just think about it in December; I truly want to engulf myself with Him all the time.

For the first time in my life, I started getting tired of holiday music about a week ago. Now, I love ‘Santa Baby’ just as much as the next person, but most days, I listen to the Christian station for a large portion of the day, and I was beginning to really miss my time of worship with the Lord. So yesterday at work, I found the most beautiful song about Jesus' birth. It is called “Born in Me” and the artist is Francesca Battestelli. It brought me to tears because of what my Jesus did for me in being born. Listen to it when you get a chance, it will bless your spirit.

So on this most wondrous of celebrations, take a minute to just enjoy what is around you. Whether it is a Christmas party, worship service or just time alone with God or friends, enjoy it. Drink in the moment and thank the Lord for this beautiful life that He has given to us in Him.

I have included a funny poem that I wrote my junior year in college. I meant it as a gift, but never got that far, lol. It is a slight play off of “The Night Before Christmas.” Hope you enjoy! Merry Christmas All!

Twas the week before Christmas and school had let out,

For this wondrous reason, I no longer did pout!

My ticket was purchased, my bags almost packed,

The room was all clean, but the thermostat jacked!!!!

My pockets were empty with no cash inside,

"How would I buy presents?" I shouted and cried.

Just then my small brain began churning and groaning,

I had an idea and could stop all my moaning!

I’d write up a poem all sweet and endearing,

And by the end of my rhyme they all would be cheering!

At this time of year we love carols and holly,

We take pictures with fat men who are constantly jolly!

The stockings are hung and the cookies are baked,

The presents are wrapped in all sizes and shapes.

On the eve before Christmas, no child can sleep,

The utter excitement might cause them to creep,

Down the stairs to the presents all waiting below,

That when opened tomorrow will cause such a show!

But why do we bake all those cookies each year?

And why do we wish people merry and cheer?

You see in a manger lay a small baby boy,

Who would bring to the world love, peace and joy!

His birth marked the point of change here on earth,

His death marked the why of our simple worth.

So on this occasion so joyous and grand,

Let’s not forget the birth of the man.

As I end this short rhyme and I turn out the light,

”Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Good Night!!!!”