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October 24, 2013 by Karin 12 Comments

When We Begin To Get Over Ourselves

31 days of Good Deeds 31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 19 ~

I’ve been a mother for 12 years today.
Really, though, motherhood began 9 months before that (ok, we all know it’s actually 10).  When you carry the weight of the future on your bladder for any amount of time, you know the exact amount of time.  Down to the very minute.

What I didn’t know… the weight of the future was the very thing that would begin the release of the weight of my selfishness.

Motherhood.  The vessel He uses to get us over ourselves.

We enter into this place with a million preconceived notions of how we will play this whole thing out.  We step through the door holding this perfect breath from God and we think we might have a clue.  This is where it all begins.  We have no idea.  The thoughts in our minds give way to the crashing wave of pure love.  This love washes any idea of who we think we are… away.  We come face to face with someone we want to die for – again and again.  But, first, we have to die to ourselves.  And this is the rub.

The battle – my thoughts, my ideas, my wishes, my dreams collide… with His.

Holding tightly to the holy moment of birth is just the beginning of letting it all go.

This is when our hearts begin to take residence – outside of our bodies.  With each baby, over and over again, we die to ourselves… and open up to Him.  Only God would begin this slow and often painful death to our selfish natures through the birth of something so breathtakingly exquisite.  New life wrapped in the sweet aroma of innocence cradled in our unsuspecting arms.  The best of us is yet to come.

Sometimes, though, he lets us begin our journey into selfless love much earlier.  Sometimes He allows to exercise these muscles of you-before-me when we are much younger.  Perhaps even as young as 11… soon to be 12.

And, sometimes He surprises this unsuspecting mama with a story of an unselfish good deed.  A good deed that mama didn’t have to prompt or prod or produce.  Sometimes He lets us know we are doing this motherhood thing a little bit right.

It's always better with two

I was away on a trip (a small miracle in itself, thanks to my gold-hearted warrior).  Dad decided to take our six pack to a carnival.  The bravery in that task is another story entirely.

The pumpkins, rides, and treats thrilled this young crew of ours.  Most of all, of course, the rides and slides were mission number one.

Tickets bought, treats ingested, it was time.  The kids rode and squealed and lived it up.

Our four-year-old discovered quickly that some thrills look better from the ground up.

It’s too scary! I don’t like it!

Our red-headed summer warrior shrieked.

Sometimes bravery is just knowing what you’re not ready for.  And saying so.

Tickets dwindled and energy faded.

With only a handful of tickets left to thrill these little ones, my warrior offered them one more ride.

The big kids, ready to tackle the most thrilling ride, grabbed their chance and took off.

Our normally brave little summer girl exclaimed,

But, I want to go on those swings. I’m too scared of that ride.

Daddy stood holding the baby, knowing the only way she would go was with a companion.  We don’t really want to go this alone, do we?  It’s always better with two.

The kids want to ride that one, sweetie.

Then, the part that bursts a mama heart.  All these years of do-this-don’t-do-that-be-nice-share-love-each-other.  All the refereeing of siblings.  All the times of it’s-not-about-you.  Then, this one time.  It takes root… and I wasn’t even there.  I can’t take credit (but, I can give plenty to my warrior).  I can’t even begin to think it had anything to do with what I told my boy to do.  He just did it.  And my heart explodes.

I’ll go with her, dad.

C’mon, little sister, I’ll take you on the swings.

Now, the swings… they go round and round, not up nor down.  Pretty lame for an 11, almost 12-year-old.

They spun in circles, she squealed with glee, and my heart melts.

We teach and train and cajole and plead.  We bark and bellow and beg.  We hold and hug and pour ourselves out… day after day.  Then, God.  He gives us a glimpse.  A momentary whisper of,

Job well done.

The pouring out… from a big brother to a little sister.  This.  

This whole new soul dying to self and giving to love.  And my heart wholly fills.

 

2 Thessalonians 3:13

And as for you, brothers, never tire of doing what is right. 

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Filed Under: A Day in the Life, Brothers and Sisters, Family, Good Deeds, Love, Motherhood, The Good Stuff, Together Tagged With: dying to self, family, motherhood, siblings

October 22, 2013 by Karin 8 Comments

When We Put Our Feet On The Ground

31 Days of Good Deeds 31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 18 ~

I can almost see his house from here.

The water snakes just around the buildings, under the bridges, and presses hard against the dam. The trees carpet the landscape. I can’t make out trees from bushes from fields. It all looks lush and quenched from up here. I miss the green in the rugged beauty of desert.

Like a drink of water before entering the parched land of jags and cliffs and red-painted rocks.

I can almost see my brother’s house. And it feels like home.

It’s not my home or my town or my state. But, just the proximity to him feels like home. Funny how that settles the nerves of a pilot’s wife in the air. Funnier still that a pilot’s wife feels oddly misplaced up here though I know this air feels like home to my other half.

Up Above

You can sense the whispers of home in places that aren’t home.

You can feel close to a brother, sometimes even a brother you don’t know.

This story is from a friend. A woman I met by God’s circumstance in the most unexpected place. He orchestrates these meetings, you know. It still blows my mind.

My friend is a musician. She shares her gift with my girls. The music from the piano and the seasoned voice leading the tentative new voice cover the air like white wash over the dull. Music brightens and brings light to the landscape.

She told me a story. A good deed…

They turned into the parking lot of the grocery store and saw him. She and her young daughter. His sign didn’t ask for money. Just food. Strategic positioning right outside this store filled with enough to feed more than enough.  I wonder if our attempts at strategy ever really amount to much… without His positioning?

Her little girl exclaimed,

Mom, we should bring him some food!

She nodded agreement,

We’ll get him a sandwich and a drink.

After checking out, supplies and sandwich in hand, they pulled their truck to where the man had waited. He was gone.

Man, we were all ready for him.

My friend drove to the main road and that’s when she heard it. That Voice that whispers. The same Voice that prompted me to pocket a twenty just weeks before. This Voice, it beckoned,

Go across the street. Go to the Wal-Mart parking lot.

It’s when that whisper comes to you so specifically that you wonder,

Seriously? Am I imagining this?

It’s when the Voice whispers so specifically that it’s most imperative to listen.

My friend listened. She laughed to herself,

I don’t know what the deal is, but ok.

She drove across in anticipation. The anticipation is the best part. And, sometimes it throws us off.

Nothing.

No great sign. No homeless man waiting for his sandwich. Nada.

Really, God? Here I am. I’m not sure where to go.

There was nowhere else to turn, but toward the exit. All prepped and nothing. This is sometimes when it happens. We lose our direction. We question the Voice. We wonder what kind of stuff we are dreaming up anyway.

And, this… this is when we have to keep going. The Voice doesn’t lie. Our doubt just begins to seep into the ear trying to play over the melody of that Voice.

That’s when she saw him. He rolled along in a chair, oxygen tank in tow. He wasn’t the same guy. Not the one she saw at the store. This one was the one she was supposed to see. He orchestrates these meetings, you know.

The older man waved arms at blind passersby. Not one soul stopped as the man rolled and waved and tried to get anyone to see. The best of us can be blind sometimes, can’t we?

She pulled her truck alongside,

Hey there, what do you need?

His voice, gruff and worn,

I just got out of the hospital. I’m a diabetic. I just need something to eat because of my blood sugar.

She answered,

Well, I’ve got your sandwich right here.

City traffic doesn’t stand still for good deeds, so she pulled to the side and climbed out of her truck. This is what gets me. She stopped. And, got out. She stepped feet onto the ground next to the weary soul in the chair.

Feet on the ground

They talked for a short time. The street side conversation went to God and faith.  She told him about the hungry man she had bought the sandwich for, but that God pointed her to him instead.

He responded to her kindness,

I’ve helped people all my life. I’ve always tried to do good for others.

He motioned to his legs and whispered,

Now look at me. I’m wondering, where is God?

Then, you gave me this.

His eyes went to her face,

You’ve got the Spirit. I see it in you.

She hugged the man,

Where are you going to go?

The man in the chair replied,

I gotta get to the shelter before they close. I don’t have any bus money. If they close the doors, I can’t get in tonight.

The good deed kept on giving. My friend answered,

Well I have $5 that you can have for the bus.

She handed him the money and climbed back into her truck.

He called to her by name,

Hey, be good to your husband. Stop arguing with each other. He’s doing the best he can and he’ll never leave you.

Then, he paused as tears welled in her eyes,

From the looks of your face, I can tell that means something to you.

And, he was gone.

We don’t have to go very far to be near a brother. Or a sister. We don’t have to go very far to feel close to home. We don’t have to look around and wonder in anticipation when we will go home again. We just have to get out. Put feet on the ground. Feet on the ground next to our brothers and sisters. He orchestrates the meetings, you know. The Voice whispering in our souls,

Follow me and I’ll show you Home.

 

Mark 10:29-31

“I tell you the truth,” Jesus replied, “no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age (homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields—and with them, persecutions) and in the age to come, eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last first.”

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Filed Under: A Day in the Life, Brothers and Sisters, Good Deeds, Hope, Mercy, Together Tagged With: feet on the ground, obedience, stop and get out, together

October 19, 2013 by Karin 2 Comments

If We Could See

31 days of Good Deeds 31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 17 ~

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.      ~ Plato

Happy weekend, friends.

(If you are reading this in an email, please click over to the blog to watch this 4 minute video.)

 

Ephesians 4:32

Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.

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Filed Under: A Day in the Life, Compassion, Good Deeds Tagged With: be kind

October 16, 2013 by Karin 2 Comments

The Best In Others

31 Days of Good Deeds 31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 14 ~

The homecoming is the best part.

I have a new friend down the street.

She is a new mom, in a new house, in a new town, with a deployed husband.

It doesn’t take long to connect with someone who is in the shoes you have worn to paper-thin soles.  It doesn’t take long to remember that feeling of staying behind to hold it all together.  It doesn’t take long for the visions of leaking washers, broken alarms, dead car batteries, sick children, temperamental refrigerators, and sleepless nights to resurface.

It doesn’t take long to commiserate in the truth… everything breaks when they are gone. 

Deployments begin with a spiteful appliance whispering,

Yea, I’m broken.  Thought I’d let you know… now.

Always when they are gone.

My friend with this cherub of a brown-eyed baby boy has reached the end of the parenting alone, the fixing alone, the worrying alone, and the doing alone.  Her wait is over. 

Homecoming is the very best part.

  Comfort at the door

She shared a story with me.  A good deed at a desperate time.

We left our two cars on base here.  I was heading home to stay with my parents and we needed to leave the cars in a safe place.  When I returned to town and moved into our new house, our friend went to base and returned my car to me.  He brought it right to my house.  

Here’s the best part…

He went to base to start our other car so he could bring it to our house before my husband gets home.  When he got there, the car wouldn’t start.  He had the car towed to his own house.  After checking out the whole car, he bought and replaced the battery.  He kept the car for a few more days and drove it just to make sure it was running well.

Then, he washed it and cleaned it and brought it right to my door.  My husband was touched and thankful that someone had taken care of his family while he was gone.

These deployments bring broken appliances, dead batteries, and too many unwelcome surprises.

These deployments… bring out the very best in others.

These deployments bring us to the deepest of gratitude for those who go out of their way… to bring comfort right to our front door.

James 3:13

Who is wise and understanding among you? Let them show it by their good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom.

Karin signature

 

Filed Under: A Day in the Life, Community, Good Deeds, Military, The Good Stuff, Together Tagged With: broken stuff, deployments

October 15, 2013 by Karin Leave a Comment

This Is How It Starts

31 Days of Good Deeds 31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 13 ~

I remember that morning.

It was one of those mornings when alarms were ignored, breakfasts inhaled, shoes lost, shirts smudged, belts forgotten, children whined, and mama barked.  All the while the hand on the clock decided to skip ahead 5 minutes for every passing second.  We were late, the kids were frazzled, and I was done.  Four down.

I remember strapping two squirmy little ones into car seats and peeling out of the parking lot.  Can’t be late for coffee and Bible study at your own house, you know.  Nice.

My attitude had taken over that particular morning, but I was smart enough to know that donuts would be an easy fix for the whiny ones in the back.  In fact, I might have one… or two myself.  In fact, I might get enough for everyone to share.  I wasn’t going down this sugar road alone.

I sat in line at the Dunkin Donuts drive through (this donut thing, it’s just way too easy).  My breathing slowed and I finally relaxed enough to tickle kicking feet behind me.

That’s when I felt it.  Or heard it.  I’m not sure.  But, I knew what the message was,

Pay for the car behind you.

I mulled over the thought and replied,

Yea, I’m not sure if I have enough cash on me.

The Voice whispered again,

Pay for them.

The enemy had pretty much taken center stage this morning, and I had too easily given in to the worst parts of myself.

Only one way to turn this day around, and I knew the whispering Voice was the answer.  He always is.

I smiled to myself and flipped off bad guy.

Screw you, devil.

I muttered those words as I pulled out some extra money.  I paid for the car behind us and drove away.  A Boston creme donut and a kick in the tail to my selfishness.  Things were turning around that morning.

I shared my morning story with a girlfriend a little while later.  She replied with a grin,

We just drove through that drive through and the lady at the window told me people had been paying for each other for about an hour now.

And, that’s how it starts.  I’ve heard these stories again and again.  Every time they make me smile.

Then, I realized the best part.

A few girlfriends have shared their own stories about drive through kindness.  Anna remembers,

I was in the drive thru with my son very early on a cold, December morning on the way to his basketball game. As we got to the window, the barista told me that the car in front of us had paid for ours and told us ‘Merry Christmas!’ My son and I were shocked and thought that was awesome, so we happily paid for the 2 cars behind us, adding in ‘Merry Christmas’ too. My son talked about it for months. He was so proud that we paid it forward then and we do it today, every now and then. It was a great lesson for my son and today, I can still see the look on his face when we were told by the drive thru barista. Priceless.

And Ashley,

We have been through the drive thru at McDonald’s and had the people in front of us pay for our order. We then paid for the people behind us. 

The best part… their kids were watching.  They watched a good deed in action.

the next generation

They watch everything we do.  It’s when we share a good deed, when we pay it forward… it’s then that we pay it into an entire new generation.

And, that’s how it starts. 

Priceless.

 

Psalm 71:18

Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, O God, till I declare your power to the next generation, your might to all who are to come. 

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Filed Under: A Day in the Life, Community, Good Deeds, The Good Stuff Tagged With: how it starts, the next generation

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Meet Karin

Hi! My name is Karin Madden. Writer. Warrior wife. Mom of six pack. Homeschooler. German-blooded southerner. Welcome to the place where I explore what it means to grow stronger - spirit, soul, and body. I write to inspire and encourage - to remind you we are not alone. By being bold with grace and speaking truth in love, we can become who we are meant to be. I'm glad you are here.

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