Category: God

timewasters

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I have one word for you.

Netflix.

Have you ever heard of it?  It entered our lives some 10 months ago.  And I’m so glad it did.  I’ve never wasted so much time in my 30 some years of life, since I met Netflix.

I’ve always been proud of my television boundaries.  We don’t have cable.  I am a fan of The Amazing Race and random PBS documentaries, but I usually don’t get caught up into too many t.v. shows.  I was faithful to The Office until Steve Carell left.  But I don’t get sidetracked by Oprah (or the like), I hate watching sports and the news is just depressing… I did spend a few years on Alias & then on LOST (which turned out to be a WOT – waste of time – after seeing the cheesy endings).  Thanks JJ Abrams.  I had higher expectations.

Then I met Netflix.

It changed my time-wasting capabilities and caused them to increase exponentially.
I now know more about the Tweto family surviving storms on “Flying Wild Alaska”, and Paul Watson stewarding the Sea Shepherd to save whales from the Japanese whalers on “Whale Wars, and how to become a loser prospector like the Hoffman crew that never finds gold on “Gold Rush Alaska”, than I ever thought I could.

I know too much.  I’ve wasted too much time.
But God can redeem my time.

The truth is I loved watching those shows.  I got sucked in when I thought I never would.  The reality of the Tweto’s, the Hoffman’s and the Sea Shepherd crew was so intriguing to me.  Until I was bored.  I was bored with watching the Tweto’s fly in in-climate weather, and the Sea Shepherd crew throw stink bombs onto the deck of the Japanese whaling ships, and the Hoffman’s dig 1,000 feet into the earth to find merely a fleck of gold.

I was bored.  I rarely use those 3 words, but I was.  I needed something new.  I always have something to do, or something I need to be doing.  I lead a busy life.  It was time for me to stop wasting it.
I needed new boundaries.  With Netflix.

So in the evenings, when P.A. and I normally settle into our spots on the couch to chill out after the wee Babs are in bed, I began something different for “my time”.  I played my guitar.  I listened to a sermon online.  I read my Bible.  I called a friend.  I called my parents.  I wrote in my journal. I started blogging.  P.A. and I would have “home dates” and spend time talking and hanging out, and sometimes watch a movie.  I didn’t mop.  I didn’t vacuum.  I didn’t pay bills.  I was allowing God to redeem my time.

I want to learn everyday.  I want to grow everyday.  I want to spend my time well.  With God, I always can.  His Word is never boring.  It is always new.  When I am spending time in the Bible, I am always learning something.  When I am focused on Jesus, I am growing.  When I am with God, it is never a WOT.
Spending time with God compels me to be a better wife, a more attentive mom, a more caring friend.  My precious time with God redeems every part of my life and with every person I spend time with.
I’m sure I will find something else to waste my time on in the next 30 some years of my life and I may look back and say I wasted time on x.y.z.

But I will never look back and regret the redeeming time I spend with my amazing God!
What are your time-wasters?  What would you rather be doing?  Allow God to redeem your time… He always does.

Noted. By Les Babs

Does God really care about my $4 Mocha?

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This is the last of my 3 Panera stories… I know you are saddened, but no worries – I am sure we will go to Panera again soon, and some sort of Chronicle will emerge out of our visit there…

After visiting the Grands in Oklahoma over the holidays, we set out for our long drive home.  We made it 3 seconds down the road… and decided to turn around.  After packing all of our crap up the night before, we had planned to leave by 10am the next morning.  So, about 2 hours later, we were really leaving right on “Bab time”.  We always hope to get somewhere sooner than we ever do.  We have high expectations, but rarely meet them.  We are okay with this fact about ourselves.

So, 3 seconds down the road, we realize we are already hungry for lunch and that our original plan of leaving at 10am – 10:30am at the latest – left us on Bab time leaving at noon and we really should have eaten lunch before we left the Grands house.  We go back to their house, I knock on the door and enter the kitchen to find my mom saying, “I hope you didn’t come back for that coffee you left in our fridge…” She is saying this as she is pouring out $4 worth of peppermint mocha into her sink.  GAAAAHHHH!!!!!!  Crap!!!  As she is pouring, I am remembering that I had left my leftover $4 mocha in her fridge and I had planned to re-warm it and take it with me!

Originally, my plan was to come into their house, slap together a few pb&j’s and be on the road again.  But as I’m listening the $4 mocha drip down the drain, my plan is suddenly highjacked by a range of emotions.  I hold in my frustration with my loss as I  throw together the pb&j’s, holding back tears.  Stay calm, Leslie.  Calma-down-down.  It’s not that big of a deal, you can buy another coffee, I tell myself.  My mom didn’t know I had planned to keep the coffee – I had forgotten it on our original departure in the first place!  Had we not decided to go back for pb&j’s, I would have never known the mocha was tossed away like a meaningless piece of trash.  Don’t be upset with your mom, Leslie.  Keep your cool.  I tell my mom, “It’s no big deal, it’s not your fault, you didn’t know…”  But even as I am speaking the words, there is a part of me that is still upset.  I am not moving on…

A few more minutes down the road and P.A. decides he wants to stop by Taco Bueno.  Ugh!  I say, “Why can’t you just be okay with a pb&j?”  Seriously!  We really need to get on the road, get out of town, be done with this place already!  But P.A. is stubborn, so we stop at Taco Bueno.  The T.B. in my parents town is always busy.  It is located across the street from the church I grew up in, so my youth group friends and I were regulars there.  And it was always packed.  And today was no exception.

We drive up and the drive thru is about 15 cars long, so P.A. decides to “run in” and get the food “real quick” while me & the 3 wee Babs wait in the car. HA!  About 25 minutes later he returns with anxiety thinking I am going to deck him for making us stop at T.B. in the first place and for it taking so stinkin’ long to get our food.  But my response isn’t anger.  It is peace.

While P.A. was running into T.B. “real quick”, I had myself some quiet time with Jesus.  The wee Babs were content eating their pb&j’s I had slapped together earlier. The smallest Bab was now sleeping, and I was journaling to Jesus.  I was asking Him to take away the anger & disappointment I felt about “losing” my $4 mocha, the money wasted, the feelings I had toward my mom for accidentally throwing it away.  I didn’t want to be upset.  I didn’t want to feel those things (Romans 7:15).  I didn’t want to feel ridiculous.  There are so many things in life that produce emotion.  A $4 mocha shouldn’t be one of them.
While P.A. was in T.B., God was doing a work in my heart and soul.  He was changing my thoughts.  He was settling a battle between my flesh & spirit.  He was replacing my anger with His Peace.
  
So we set off on our journey.  We finally left town.  We made it to our half way stopping point – a Panera.  We went inside, got settled, ordered our food, went to the bathroom and saw poop on the toilet seat.  (btw, if you missed this chronicle, it was the one I posted a few days ago called “Poop and Panera”).  After getting our food – this time at  a much more timely rate (btw, if you missed this chronicle about our late food at Panera, read my recent post called “Back off old lady”), I realized Panera was prepping to close.  Oh no!  I’d better order my coffee for the rest of the evening’s journey.  I went up to the register and noticed they all said “closed”.  Oh no!…  But I wasn’t going to flip out.  I calmly asked the Panera worker if I could still order a peppermint mocha and I would pay cash, but didn’t need any change.  He said, “Sure.” He made me the best peppermint mocha I’ve ever had from Panera.  And he gave it to me.  For Free.

Whoa.  I was floored and thankful.  After the fit I threw earlier behind gritted teeth, a battle in my mind, and anger in my heart… God replaced my $4 mocha.  I felt like He was telling me, “I see and care about every detail of your life.  Even the menial ones.  Trust Me.”  What a gift.  

Some of you reading this might think, who cares about a $4 mocha?  Why would you get upset about that in the first place?  Why would you even take the time to write a blog post about it?… But what are the menial things you value?  a tv show?  maybe you get upset when your child is wanting your attention while you’re trying to watch?  a material possession you want?  maybe you get upset because you can’t have it?  or even time wasted on something you regret doing?

Many times our anger is exhibited as an underlying lack of Trust.  We lack Trusting God and that He knows what is best and He is taking care of our every need, the menial ones and the most important ones.  Matthew 6:25-34.  God is always teaching me how to trust in Him.  He really does care about my $4 mocha.

Noted. By Les Babs

Poop and Panera

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Over the holidays, we traveled to and fro, over the river and thru the woods to Grammy & Grandpa’s house in Oklahoma.  Really, we drove west thru 5 different states, for 18 hours stopped along the way at 4 different Panera restaurants.  We plotted our stops out carefully with the help of Yelp.  We timed our intake of liquids and held our pee in order to only have to stop at a Panera.  Because We are food snobs.  and coffee snobs.

But we are not poop snobs.  We deal with shit on a daily basis, sometimes several times a day. For the last 7.5 years, our lives have been enhanced by experiences with shit.  Thanks to our 3 wee Babs, we are experts at changing diapers, in any position, on any surface and wiping up their 
shit poop.  You get the picture.  And if you don’t, you can come over and visit anytime.

We regularly joke about poop.  It’s a daily part of our lives.  Our son plays with dolls – wait, did I just say that?  He plays with dolls by squeezing them, flying them around the room and chasing his sisters, while holding the doll over their heads, saying “I’m gonna poop on you!”.  The other day our 2 year old stepped into her own poop I had neglected to see and clean up.  It ended up on her heel, and tracked around the house as she came to find me and tell me her struggle.  I cleaned it up.  Shortly after, our family engaged in a wrestling cuddle match, one in which we rolled around on the carpet and rug that had just been cleaned. Yelling and laughing so hard we were crying saying, “Don’t roll in the poop!”

But I digress…back to our stop at Panera.  My oldest daughter and I went to use the Panera restroom, as custom before getting back in our van for the rest of our looooong drive.  As we were patiently waiting for an open stall, I gently told her, “Soleil this is your last chance to go potty before we get to Grammy & Grandpa’s.”  There are no more Panera’s along the way.  This may seem harsh for a mother to tell her daughter on a long road trip, but have you ever been in a Panera restroom?  They are NICE!  And given the options along I-70 and I-44, they are the definitely the best option.  No stoppin’ at Wendy’s, Love’s or Kum & Go gas stations for us – Panera all the way!  Though, Cracker Barrel is a close 2nd.

But I digress…again.  So we enter the “big” stall together and prepare to take care of business when what do I see on the toilet seat?  SHIT!  I mean, POOP!  Whatever you want to call it!   There it was, and it was the last thing I expected to see.  For a Panera bathroom, I had higher standards.  Sooo, I calmly took out a baby wipe and scrubbed down the toilet.  Then I proceeded to go first, in order to absorb any germs that might be lingering, so that Soleil wouldn’t have to.  Maybe all of this is TMI?  But I’m making a point, people.
We have lived many places, traveled to other countries, and poop is something I would expect to see in a bathroom in… India or another country.  Heck, I don’t even expect a toilet when we travel to India.  But not in the good ol’ US of A, and certainly not at a Panera!

But we are not poop snobs.  I left that Panera thankful.  Thankful for a toilet I had to clean first, thankful for toilet paper, thankful for soap & water to wash with, thankful for my family I have to travel with.  Thankful.  Even for the poop we have to deal with in our lives.
Note: this is the first of 3 Holiday Stories involving Panera, which I am affectionately calling “The Panera Series”…stay tuned!


Noted. By Les Babs

Jello.

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The other night, we were all sitting on our couch, having some quality cuddle fam time.  My 7 year old Soleil says, “Mommy, your tummy feels good, it feels like jello.”  Sweet, sweet child.  As much as I wanted to defend my mid-section-squishy-ness, by blaming it on the holidays… I ate too much… we just finished dinner… I’m about to start my period… bloated, ya know?  Instead, I just started cracking up!

Promptly followed by 200 crunches.

Seriously, I kept laughing about what she said all night long… and even into the next day.  But what if someone else had said that?  If P.A. would have made that comment, I would have decked him. Whoever coined the phrase, “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” was… well, an idiot.  Words Hurt. They can hurt bad and deeply wound a persons’ soul.

As a Real-Life Pastors Wife, I am sometimes plagued by people’s words.  What do they think of me?  What did they say about me?  What did they say about P.A.?  What did they just say to P.A.’s face?  What did I hear from someone else that they just said about us?

She said, he said, I said, she said, they said, we said, I said, she said.

Ahh!!! Words can be ridiculous!  Because people use them and people are ridiculous!

I have been hurt by word wounds.  I’m sure I’ve hurt others with wounding words.  Sometimes, we don’t even realize our words are wounding – because we are ridiculous.  Words can be a huge distraction.  It can be difficult to heal from word wounds.

Just like jello.  My mid-section will never be the same after 3 wee Bab’s.  I can accept this.  I run an average of 3 miles a day, six days a week, 18 miles per week.  I take Sunday’s off – no condemnation – it’s my Sabbath, people!  I can run, run, run – but when it comes to the discipline of a steady regime of daily crunches, I’m over it.  I just. don’t. care. anymore.

I can walk around with my jello and be just fine. But if I am carrying a word wound – I’m. not. fine.

But there is hope. In Jesus.  I’ve tried other people, places and things to heal my wounds – only Jesus can.  James chapter 3 is a great section in the Bible about taming the tongue.  I’ve read it.  Ouch. But it’s not about perfection.  We will always have something to be healed from.  Or bring forgiveness to.

With Jesus, there is hope to heal from word wounds, watch my own words… and my jello.

Me + my jello & P. A. after the 10k Dechutes Dash – Bend, OR  Noted. By Les Babs

THE WRONG BROAD

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“Hi, my name is Adam, and I am Directionally Challenged”… If they had 12 step group for “stubborn people who don’t ask for directions, Ever!”, I would be the first to join. So there you have it, I am a dude,and I took the first step, I have finally admitted it-” I am directionally challenged”. I hope all the women out there reading this are happy now :) . And it’s not like I get lost for the fun of it either, like some sick people do, “we just love to get lost, it’s an adventure “, save those kind of sentiments for a chick flick.  Adventure my ass , getting lost sucks. And getting lost happens to me, a lot.  I will get on my bike, in my car, my kayak, or my own 2 feet and somehow along the way, I think I’m going one direction, and end up somewhere else, and even worse, it’s usually  somewhere  I have been before- somewhere I have been before many times. like today for example… I was driving my car to meet my other dude friend, “Will”, for a lunch meeting at a place I have probably been too before  at least a 1/2 dozen times and it happened, it happened faster than a bald man getting a buzz cut …. I WAS LOST ( Again). And you want to know why I finally figured out after driving aimlessly, cussing at myself and random streets signs that I realized that I was lost. Well just so you know it wasn’t my dang, “reliable” , GPS/DAYPLANNERMP3PLAYER/BOMBSHELTER/”I STILL CAN”T FIGURE THIS THING OUT AFTER 1 YEAR SMARTPHONE”… no, it wasn’t that at all, It was when I stopped being so dang distracted by my smartphone, “mystery machine”, and actually paid more attention to my driving than checking my email, my texts, my facebook, and those following my blog ( Totally shameless plug here: you can follow my blog by clicking “follow” at the top of this page & then you can make my day  ), that I saw it, and it actually registered I was on the WRONG BROAD st, actually I wasn’t even on broad at all. Because I was so distracted I had been driving on MAIN st the whole friggin’ time ever since exiting the highway. In fact, If I wouldn’t have been so distracted to begin with, I might have noticed where I got lost in the first place. Distraction while driving, anywhere, is never a good thing. You would think that I  learned this at a young age in my driving “career”, ( which by the way got a late start, but that’s another blog for another day ), but directionally challenged people are stubborn….
Shortly after getting my license I decided that I would show off  my coolness ( or lack thereof ) and drive to a friend’s house in my parents white mercury sable ( ya, you know your jealous ). Now my friend was having a party, a big party, a party where everyone knew me, where everyone knew that I had JUST FINALLY gotten my “licence”. So, I drive up, go in, show off my mug shot with a mullet ( oh the 80′s ), hang out for a while, and then decide that it’s time to depart in style. I do this by inviting everyone out to check out my ride, and invite all the “hot” girls ( this was Pre-wifey of course,  and now she IS the ONE & ONLY hot girl in my life ), to get in the sleek old man sable for a joy ride. And of course since i’ve got them there, I might as well impress them with the factory installed cassette player low-budge sound system and blast some beats right? And that’s just what I did- I got in the car, invited a dozen ( probably more like 3, 16 yr. old girls in the car, but who’s counting ? ), blasted some def beats and began to slowly back out of the driveway. … it was great-  girls in the car, music blaring, people waving, me smiling… people waving more, me laughing, me schmoozing the girls more…. people waving more vigorously, guy who owns the Mercedes that was parked in the driveway next to me before pulling out yelling something at me ( I  decide I am glad that he’s as excited at this moment as I am )…. oh wait a sec, he’s not good excited, he’s bad excited, he looks really mad actually… I stop, roll down my window, and I ask, “what’s the deal bro?”… in my life is sublime in my mercury sable tone. … the “deal” is that I almost get my face knocked in because while backing out of his driveway in my “super sable”, I sideswiped his Benz from headlight to bumper- Oh happy day! Actually, from that moment on it was not happy at all, Not happy when I realized that I would forever go down in history as the , “sideswipe sable dude”, in front of all my friends. Not happy that I would have to drive home to my parents and explain/get lectured/explain/get grounded & lectured/try to explain again/Get grounded, get the, “you might have to quit high school and work 40hrs per week at some greasy spoon the rest of your life to pay for what you’ve done  ” talk.  And, most of all,  not happy because the cause of all this was that I WAS DISTRACTED….
Distraction is a horrible, destructive thing. It  happens quick, and it happens slow. Sometimes overtly, sometimes subtly. It pulls us away from  people, from places, from the present moment we are to be fully engaged in. I have been distracted in my life way more than I want to admit. I have been a distracted pupil,a distracted peer,  a distracted partner to my wife, a distracted parent, a distracted pastor. And….
I have been a distracted pursuer.
I have been a distracted pursuer of God.
God has set a course for me, a journey. But I don’t always like the direction He sets me in or the route He has me take. Sometimes it seems hard, sometimes it doesn’t seem to make sense. Sometimes It’s easier if I just take the wheel. Since, I would rather be in control.
And since I think I’m better at  being in control of this journey, I’m sure I can handle a few added inputs along the way, sometimes His voice is just a bit too quiet, or maybe  it’s too loud and I choose to turn it down all the way to a whisper so I can be distracted by my own voice, and the voice of others.
And that’s when I get lost…. what should be broad st. quickly becomes main st. in my life, a Sable sideswipe’s a Mercedes in my relationship with Him. I totally get distracted and lose direction.
So ya, I admit it, I AM DIRECTIONALLY CHALLENGED. I am stubborn and self-focused. I want to be led, but don’t really want Him to lead.
Maybe you can relate…
Maybe you’ve been lost on the journey. Maybe you can’t find your place.
God knows where you are, where you’ve been, and where your going.
God pursues us.
God’s pursuit of us is never Distracted or Detoured or even dependent on our own aimless wanderings.
God is fully present, fully engaged, fully aware of us all the time.
And He direct us and distracts us with Himself alone, by wrecking us with His love- time and time and time again.
So- I am directionally challenged for life,  directionally challenged to be wrecked by Jesus and put back on track.
I am distracted.
So distracted by His love that everything else try’s to matter, but can’t.
Noted. By Adam Babs