Beach combers...

I'm always wishing I spent more time out in Spain, enjoying what is here before our time is up. Today, with my Sohl-mate and Young Sohl back stateside for a week, I decided that the older two and I should hit the beach. I adore hunting for treasures at the beach here; due mostly to the sea glass. I find it completely peaceful, relaxing. My two darlings, however, have lost interest in the sea glass searching.

Sohl son likes to climb the algae-covered boulders, and flick sand and such. Little SohlGal is finally to the point of realizing that sand never tastes as good as it looks, and is instead content to pick up any, and all, pink-ish shells, rocks, candy wrappers or other pink-like beach debris she discovers.

Today we came across what I thought used to be sea anemone, and it was really quite pretty. This squishy little blob was mostly purple with stringy green tips, and a beige-colored foot. The kids were smitten with the little thing, and slightly annoyed I wouldn't let them take it home.

It interested me, and got me thinking. I know what beach treasures I enjoy; I know what little SohlGal likes; I'm pretty sure that I know what Sohl son wants from his experience. So how do I make home more like the beach?

Oh, and then there's this. As we're walking down the stairs to the beach, little SohlGal says, "Mom, can we swim in the pools?" Sohl son quickly corrects her. "Little SohlGal, that's not the pools. Those are things are HUGE BEACHES."

My spongy-self...

God's been working some firm lessons, moving them to heart knowledge. I've been struggling quite a bit over the last few months, feeling lost and unsure why. What's interesting is that I can pinpoint the last time I felt secure, and it was when I was secure in how God sees me. While that hasn't changed, my drive to focus on Him, on His vision has.

Have you heard of the Principle of Displacement? In a nut shell, here it is: I am a sponge, and I must be filled with something. I can allow myself to be filled with the sludge, the muck, the leftovers. Eventually that sponge (me) "stinks," and when that happens, it needs to either be santized, washed clean, renewed - or thrown out. Often, I've been allowing the voice in my head to win out, telling me I'm only worthy of the latter, which flies directly in the face of the enormous sacrifice Jesus made for us all. He deemed me worthy of being renewed, cleansed, and if He deemed me as such, who am I to question that?

OR, I can fill myself with clean, pure water, and when needed more abrasive cleansers to rid the pores of my spongy-self of germs and muck. Yielding to what His word tells me, yielding to His truth so that I am filled with His glory and equipped to do His good works.

While it's obvious the second option is better, it's not always the one I choose. I've let my time with Him slide by the wayside, for silly reasons. That time, the quiet, focused, personal relationship time with my loving Savior is essential for me to remain as He sees me. Otherwise, my spongy-self fills up with the nasties which abound, and I'm quick to throw myself away.

I want to be continually transformed into His likeness, as I've studied so often in Phil. 3:10. AMP ver.
[For my determined purpose is] that I may know Him [that I may progressively become more deeply and intimately acquainted with Him, perceiving and recognizing and understanding the wonders of His Person more strongly and more clearly], and that I may in that same way come to know the power outflowing from His resurrection [which it exerts over believers], and that I may so share His sufferings as to be continually transformed [in spirit into His likeness even] to His death, [in the hope]

Romans 12:2
Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.


2 Corinthians 3:18
And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.

Jesus, thank you for loving me. Father thank you for your patient guidance, and yielding forgiveness and love. Strengthen in me the knowledge of your true character, and help me stay firmly on your path. In Jesus' name, Amen.
Oh, and man does it feel good to blog again!

Pressure...

Let me begin by saying that the opening to "Under Pressure," the Queen/David Bowie song always throws me off. Tricks me into thinking I'd better take heed, as Vanilla's a lyrical poet - Miami's on the scene, just in case you didn't know it.

Since I've started to blog I've always felt this need to say something, be it something valuable or knowledgeable or unique. If it's worth blogging, it should be inspiring, or thought-provoking, or at the very least, interesting, right? If I want readers to take heed - be impressed by my lyrical skills - I should have something along the lines of a chemical spill. So what does my life mean if I have nothing note-worthy to report? Several friends here say most days feel like Groundhog Day. As witty as the Lord's made me, most Sohl-days are pretty serious.

Another blogster today, though, wrote that just starting, just getting something down makes a dent. Then the initial pressure's off, and that release comes with writing. Regardless of which opening comes that day, Queen/Bowie or Ice's flow, I'm prepared to share a bit of each day again.

Wives, submit to your husbands...

Oh yeah... I'm going there.

Well, really I want to go there, but I'm not sure how. Because that voice inside me (Sohlmate and I have named her Margaret, and she's even more bossy than I) tells me that I have a demanding responsibility to point out exactly where my husband's missing _________ (the blank to be filled with the up-to-the-minute thing that he's lacking or forgotten or blown up or messed up).

Interestingly, I'm so glad that I don't have someone like myself following me around to let me know where I'm lacking or missing things. Which is, as I recognize, a complete double standard.

I've been blessed to hear a few great women offer interpretations of what God's ideal submission looks like. It isn't lying dormant and it isn't simply giving over to which ever wild hair makes it... well you know where. But somewhere in the muck that's clogged my mind, I've forgotten what the picture really is intended to be.

All this to say, I'm not sure whether or not Margaret has a vaild point - I'm not sure that Sohlmate's missing or lacking. As a few wise mentors have reminded me, when it's time to point out who is lacking, the task of pointing out the speck is much more comfortable than identifying the log in my own eye.

So... what are your insights? What does your example of submission look like? Or, if you're like me, how do you cope with that voice telling you to point out the speck? And how do you reprogram or ignore it?

Sorry my friends...

So I know it's been forever, and I humbly seek your forgiveness.

Young Sohl is crawling and chatting up a storm. His favorite person is probably his older brother. Little Sohl Gal keeps everyone entertained with her monologue. Some friends from CC stopped over to visit, and we enjoyed dinner and fellowship with them. It was great to hear about where they're living now, what they experience, and the differences between here and there.

The kids and I spent the other morning with some great Christian women friends and their children. There were ten children there, running every which way. The best part? The view of the ocean while the moms chatted about the joys and trials of motherhood. It was really an encouraging time, and I was truly blessed to see these women in action.

I've been struggling with my confidence as a mother, which if you're like me, affects every other aspect of life. Reading this book, How to Talk so Kids Will Listen, and Listen so Kids Will Talk, has been incredibly insightful. What has been encouraging is that it's easy and effective. What has been a bit discouraging is the realization that the way I've talked to them up to this point has been less than respectful, and locked me into this distructive cycle in the first place.

The root of the problem? The lack of quiet time. As I learned in One on One with God, the relationship is on-going, but I'm feeling the lack of fellowship. Honestly, I'm surprised at how easy it is to be lured away. I shouldn't be - since I know how the enemy works. Day by day, though, I drift farther and farther from that fellowship and closeness. And while His truths don't leave me, they're not first. If you're consistently experiencing this time with Him, you can relate. If not, I encourage you to recommitt with me to spend time with Him daily.

I've filled that time with many things - even many good things (many not so great things... others may, I may not) - including reading several enlightening books. My favorite was Left Behind, which was eye opening for me. Scary, if I allow myself to be completely honest. Made me realize how little I know about that last chapter of His word.

Globally enlightening was A Mighty Heart, which is the memoir of Mariane Pearl. I have a very limited understanding of political system and of what journalism is and is not.

Living abroad has offered many challenges, opportunities, and a sense of responsibility to represent a specific picture of America. But that's for another post. Hugs and love friends!