Why Faith is like Shaving your Legs

Studying the bible and drinking wine, as the Good Lord intended. 

I recently started a bible study and we will meet for the second time tomorrow. The study is set up to read certain passages and answer 5-10 questions a day for 5 days. I, being the motivated, word-thirsty, GodStudent that I am, typically wait until Wednesday night at 8pm to attempt to do all of it. This is not advised. I was on Lesson 2 Day 3 when I saw it was 15 deep thinking questions with an additional "Truth Seeking" section. I rolled my eyes heavenward and said, "Are you kidding me?" A quiet voice reminded me that most people follow the directions and take it one day at a time and generally no, the bible doesn't kid. I finished the questions without the deep thinking and then took a break to shower. Earlier today I bought new razor heads and shaving cream (I never buy shaving cream, and I promise this information is related to my bible study woes, just stick with me). I was super excited for my legs to be "luxuriously smooth and richly moisturized," as the can promised, so you can imagine my disappointment when I got out of the shower and had a prickly line up my calf that the razor missed.

Faithfully, God used something trivial to remind me he has more in store for my life when he had me sign up for this bible study. Just because I bought fancy shaving supplies, doesn't guarantee perfect results. I have to take my time and use them correctly. I signed up and paid for this bible study. When the money left my account, the knowledge and subsequent faith wasn't deposited into my brain. I have to spend good, quality time every day with Jesus if I want to know him better. If I try to cram it all into one night, the results are as prickly as my calf. It doesn't matter if you were raised by nun's and studied abroad for a year in heaven- our investment is in God, not the tools or classes. The classes are worthless if we are not invested in knowing Jesus more. He then uses the tools and classes to help us learn.

In the coming weeks, I am praying that I will be excited about the opportunity of ending long work days in time with Jesus. Reading his words, writing out thoughts and prayers, and allowing him to fill me up in order to let this study do what He intended it to do.

That Fateful Day

We have so many specific days that stick out in our minds. Milestones like starting preschool, getting our drivers license, graduating high school or college. These days are celebrated with family, friends, pictures, and parties. There is one "milestone" however, that is greatly under appreciated. A single day- no, a single moment that makes you stop in your tracks and examine your entire life up to that point in time...

The Day You Open Your Mouth And Your Mother Comes Out.

If you're in your 20's, have or are around children on a regular basis, or had a mother that loved you fiercely, you've probably experienced this moment . It should not be confused with the similarly shocking milestone of Realizing Your Mother Was Right...About Everything (that's another post, for another day).

Let me tell you what happened...

I am a nanny. I care for two of the world's sweetest children who, for privacy reasons, I will call Question Master and Sweet Pea. Question Master (or Q) is so named because he is the absolute master of all questions. He has in fact, asked every single one of them. He's 4 years old, insanely smart, and has an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Sweet Pea is 2 and is just as sweet as can be. Her adorable smile could defrost the coldest of hearts.

Today Question Master had a T-Ball game. I was in the middle of getting everything ready, and needed him to get his uniform on. He was relaxing from a long day at preschool and watching TV. I brought him his uniform, helped him with his socks, and then asked him to put his pants and shirt on while I took a few things out to the car. I came back in, Sweet Pea had taken the pants and he was laying on the couch in his school clothes. I returned the pants, got his attention and asked again. Few minutes later... no change. I again, wrestled the pants away from Sweet Pea, turned the TV off, and gave her a snack...still no progress. About 15-20 minutes has passed at this point and Q is now making carpet angels and asking if I remembered the time I said Pluto was a planet, and he so graciously corrected me for an hour and a half. I gathered his clothes, pointed him towards the bathroom (to minimize distractions), and....it happened.

"You have 5 minutes to put this uniform on your body, or...."

Sweet Baby Jesus.
I couldn't even finish the sentence. It was the tone! The words! The feeling that I was 7 years old and still hadn't cleaned my room.

My unbelievable, loving, attentive, caring mother had a way of finishing any problem, any procrastination, anything with a time limit, a task and "or I will do it for you."  Couple that with the ol' raised eyebrows, and stuff got done. NOBODY wanted Mama to do it for them. I took a second and evaluated where I was in life, and tried to accept what had just happened. I also made a mental note to call my mom and thank her for being so incredibly present in my life, that even though I am over 700 miles away, she's still popping up out of nowhere, helping me out. That's a good Mom.

Question Master was in and out of the bathroom in 3 minutes, ready and yelling "LET'S PLAY BALL!!!"

I was almost upset that it worked so well. Touche'.

Mom: 1 Jordan: 0