Showers of Blessing...

Showers of Blessing, showers of blessing we need...

Here we are at the end of June and it is hot and dry outside.  Sure is a contrast to the soupy summer we had last year.  The one that made me a magnet for turtles.  No turtles this year, just bunnies and birds.  I'll take bunnies and birds :)

The Rices have been showered with blessings the last few months.  At this moment I feel happy, at peace and filled with the joy and love of our Heavenly Father.  I give all glory and praise to YHWH  and His direction for my current state of mind.  Certain "crisis" in our lives have gone away.  So, instead of pleading and questioning Him, my prayers are filled with thanksgiving and different kinds of requests.  Requests to help me feel closer to him.

The Sabbath Fellowship I attend will soon be 2 years old.  The last two years have certainly had their ups and downs.  While the ups are great, the downs really suck and I have longed for stability within our group.   Right now, we have that stability.  Again, I give all of the glory to Him!

Our group isn't big.  It is a small group of  hungry believers that want to be together and discuss scripture.   I love listening to the discussion and always feel blessed after fellowship but... there is something missing.  Several people in our group, including me, have mention how nice it would be to have music.  We tried music in the past but it seems forced and unnatural.  For this reason, we put music on the back burner until someone able would step up and bless us with music.

So, for the last 2 years, I have been starving for song.  I love singing, it fills my heart with so much joy!  I can listen to the same song over and over and still feel blessed.

Sooo, with all of this said, I prayed to sing a couple weeks ago.  I prayed that The Father would give me an opportunity to praise him in song.  I don't ask  this because I need accolades.  I ask him because I want to feel his spirit, and the easiest way for me, is to sing in front of people.  I'm not an exceptional singer.  I can carry a tune and sound decent within a certain range.  When I practice singing songs that I will share with others, I always sound bad.  My voice cracks, there is no power behind my breath.   But when the time comes, when all eyes are on me and I am scared to death, the Spirit fills me and His breath stirs deep in my belly and shoots out of my mouth with sound, a pretty sound.  In that moment I shock myself, and often the person that has helped me practice.  The once crackly, breathy voice turns into a lovely sound.  That is when I feel closest to Him.   I know it isn't me.  I don't have the ability or strength.  But, I know who can give me the strength. I rely on Him to use this instrument He created as a vessel for His glory.

So back to my drawn out story...

A couple weeks ago I prayed to sing.  Guess what happened yesterday?  A musician friend sent me a text that said, "Are you ready to sing Gratitude?'  What!  I had forgotten about that song.  I sent it to her last year around Thanksgiving, thinking it would be appropriate for that time of year.  She is coming to our Sabbath Fellowship this weekend and has been practicing the piano part to the song.

I feel so blessed!! I love that song!!

Let me share it with you:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-PEzM-4VXdg


I want you to know that Indiana is in a drought.  We have been for weeks.  How much more appropriate is this song now then when I sent it to my friend at Thanksgiving?  Thank you Father, you know best!  I love you!

One of those nights.

Ugh, it is one of those nights.  Everyone is sleeping and I have the weight of the world on my shoulders.  Well, I suppose that is an exaggeration, but man I'm upset.   Or maybe more accurately, confused.  I really struggle with my worth as a human being.  I have unmerited pride.  I think I can offer so much....but the father hasn't given me the opportunity.

To many, I have very little value.  To most, I don't even exist.  But to four beautiful, smart, loving, sharing, kind thoughtful, children ...... I am their world.  I am the best.  I couldn't be more lovely to them.  I couldn't be smarter or more accomplished.  They don't care that I have no degree.  They aren't embarrassed that I talk to myself.   At this moment, they sleep in peace knowing they are loved.

I'll admit that I have gone to bed many nights, not knowing love.  Not being able to trust.  Not knowing what tomorrow will bring or who it will bring.

My sincere prayer is that The Father will help me get past all of the hurt and broken promises by friends, church members and family.  That he will lift this burden of betrayal that paralyzes me.   And that I might be able to, with vigor and stamina, spend the rest of my days showing my amazing children that they are loved.

I want to be the mother that encourages and doesn't tear down.  I want to be the one that supports their grown up choices.  I want to encourage them to love their spouses.  And when they have days when they doubt their worth, when a loved one has hurt them, I want them to know that they can talk to me.

YHWH, help me to see their worth.

A Tulip of Tears

Hello stranger!  I've missed you.  I didn't think I wanted to continue with this blog.  Well, I've had so many thoughts recently and it seems like a waste to not write them out.  Here is a story I want to remember forever:

It sure has been beautiful  these last couple of weeks.  The temperature has been at least 60 degrees.  Today is a toasty 80 degrees.  I even hung some clothes on the line to dry!  I haven't talked to Larry yet but I know he will be grouchy.  He hates the heat.  On top of that, I have all kinds of "good" news to share with him...he will be thrilled.

Anyway, about two weeks ago my children spent the entire day outside in this lovely weather.  I know they should have been doing schoolwork, but how could I make them?  I watched them swing a little on the playset,  dribble the basketball  for a few minutes.  After sampling the toys and activities neglected during the winter,  they ended up spending the remainder of their time under the tree in our front yard "making food."  Mud pies and weed salad were on the menu.  It was a good day, everyone seemed happy and at ease.

Eventually the children came in, we had dinner, watched some TV and cleaned up for bedtime.  Larry brought his work home with him, as he does many nights.  Usually, he gets his documenting for done before the children's bedtime, but this was one of his catch up nights.  It was 9pm and he was sitting in bed with his work computer;  He asked me to "tuck" the kids into bed and pray with them.  Larry has been the one to put them to bed since birth.  It is a very important time for him and, I'm sure, for them too.

So I did the rounds, Lily and Eli upstairs, Mati on the living room couch, then I peek my head into Wynnie's room.  She was crying.  This really took me by surprise, we had such a lovely, easy going day.  Wynnie is always my smiley, positive child.   "Wynnie, what's wrong," I asked.  "Mommy, I'm sorry.  I hid it."   "What are you talking about Wynnie?"  "You know, those round things on the stairs outside.  I thought you were going to throw them away so I peeled them for my salad.  Eli told me that you wanted it,  I got scared that you would be mad at me, so I hid it.  I buried in the back yard by the fence." She cried and whimpered as she explained the situation to me.  I just looked at her confused.  "Wynnie, do you mean the tulip bulbs that Robin got me?  I was just going to plant them anyway.  The only thing you need to feel bad about is trying to hide something from me.  Now, ask Yeshua to forgive you.  Thank you for telling me."  "Ok, mommy," she said in her , ready to please, manner.

I guess you never know what kinds of things people are struggling with on the inside, even your own children. I suppose we need to remember all of our brothers and sisters in prayer, even if they act like everything is ok. Maybe our prayers will soften their hearts enough that they can confess their sin and find peace.

I still haven't got around to planting the other tulip bulbs.  But I know one was planted and I will remember Wynnies repentant spirit every time it blooms.  I pray she remembers too.

The sacrifices of YHWH are a broken spirit and contrite heart.

Farewell 34?

I had so much to say.  A big dramatic finish to my journey.  I guess I had too much to say.  I cannot sum it all up in one post.

Am I where I wanted to be after a year?   No
Am I a better person than I was then?  I don't know
Am I a better mother a year later?  Possibly
Do I love Yeshua more?  Maybe
Do I call on him in my heartbreak first?  Often
Am I confused as ever?  Yes
Am I going to quit trying to be better?  Never
Am I going to continue this blog?

I'm a Hanukkah baby

It is 5:30am on December 25th.  My children are nestled all snug in their beds.  We had a nice evening last night as a family.  We wrestled and laughed and snuggled.  My Wynnie and Mati are easy enough to snuggle.  When Mati gets tired and we are watching TV, he will come to me when he is ready to go to sleep.  I don't rock him or anything, just hold him and soon enough he is sleeping.  My Wynnie is a tiny peanut that is starting to become a big girl.  She can tell when I am happy or sad and she will come to me for extra loving.  She has always been really easy going and eager to make me happy.  I can't get over how big my Lily is.  I want to snuggle with her but sometimes I feel strange because she looks and feels like a grown woman.  She often gets the brunt of my "wrath" and when I'm done with my fits she will come up and give me a hug from behind or a pat on the back.  The hugs I get from Lily are few but they sure are nice.  It has been nice to have her home from school this week.  I didn't realize how much I miss her when she is at school.  Eli doesn't initiate lots of hugs but he always accepts the ones I give.  He isn't bigger than me yet and he still has a smooth face so I need to get all the hugs and kisses in before the stubble appears. 

So, last night as we celebrated the end of a joyful Sabbath, it occurred to me.   When I was born, I was brought home in a little red sleeper dress that had a Christmas tree in the corner.  I've been told my whole life "you are a Christmas baby."  There really was no benefit to growing up a Christmas baby.  My birthday was often forgotten and my presents were often leftovers.  For a few years,  my family accually stopped celebrating my birthday on the real date and would pick some random date, usually in the summer, to celebrate my "unbirthday."  Sounds fun but it was a reminder to me that things were just to busy around my real birthday to do anything.  Things haven't changed much as an adult.  Most everyone has spent their money by the time it is my birthday so I can't expect much.  Larry always has been generous and I have a couple friends that always get me nice gifts.  Larry's stepmom has always been good about giving me thoughtful gifts too.   I guess this last year when we decided that we should not make birthdays such a big deal, it wasn't too hard because they have always been disappointing for me.  

Anyway, I thought it was interesting when I remembered last night that I was brought home in a dress with a Christmas tree on it.  I guess I didn't live up to my parents expectations, as far as, being naturally festive because I was born this time of year.  I think it is interesting that I have spent the last few years trying to avoid all of the Christmas trees I can.  They actually disgust me now. 

Thinking about it, that dress was one of the first labels I received growing up, "Christmas baby."  Some other labels I've had...hmmm...can I remember them all?  Let's give it a try.  Sick child, different, stubborn, mouthy, disobedient, bad student, difficult, codependent, bulimic, demon possessed and mentally ill.   I think back on those labels and I am disgusted.   I'm so thankful, that as an adult, I have broke free from the labels and tried to be the opposite of them. Although if you ask some, I haven't broke free from them all.  I'm thankful that I have had a humble enough heart to have sought YHWH and His Ways.  While I still resemble the child I was  in the past, I have new clothes now!  I've been washed clean from the labels and expectations of the past. 

As an infant in Yeshua, He clothed me, not with the rags of this world, but with a robe of righteousness.  He cradled me in His arms and nursed me until I was ready for solid food.  Now, I'm toddling off and trying to make my way in this strange world.  I run into things and fall often.  I even have little temper tantrums.  But he is there to pick me up or calm me down and send me off on my way...No....send me off on His Way. 

Thank you Father for just giving me one label......precious child.

Our family had a lovely time last night celebrating the second night of Hanukkah.  My sweet husband spent a lot of money to buy me a Le Creuset dutch oven.  I have waited for this for almost 10 years.  Every year I drop hints and hope that I get this extravagant gift.  I mentioned to Larry, this year, that this dish would do a better job frying latkes and doughnuts than anything else I have.  It was true, but my latkes are good even in my 30.00 electric skillet.

Later that evening, I shared with Larry that, while I was so excited for the gift, I felt guilty.  I am always whining about lack of funds for this or that.  The fact that I received this gift proves we are not in the dire straights that I think we are.  

Yesterday, I heard an interview on NPR about a man that was in the Japanese Internment camps.  Today, I started the morning watching silent footage of the Jewish Ghetto in Warsaw Poland.  After hearing the stories of people having to pack their life into a couple suitcases, and seeing the starving mothers with their babies, how could I ever complain about the abundance I have.  My children and healthy and well fed, I am well fed and if I am unhealthy it is because I am too well fed.  After watching the footage this morning I walked into my kitchen and looked around at my prized possessions , a lime green mixer, a bright orange dutch oven, all kinds of collectible, brightly colored pottery.  I have an abundance of color in my home, I am not one for neutral tones.  Most of the struggles I have in life is because I don't know how to deal with the abundance of clothing, toys, food, unused stuff and mostly the abundance of choices I have.  The Jews in the Ghetto did not have choice, if they could afford it, they ate horse meat.  If they couldn't, they dug through the dung heap.  The families in the interment camps, here in America, the land of the free, stood in line for terrible food and lived in  horse stalls.

Larry and I have been really considering the idea of giving up "everything" and moving to an intentional  community somewhere.  Isn't it funny that others could look from the outside and think we are ridiculous for letting go of everything we have worked for.  I wonder if the Jews or Japanese, from the WW2 era, would think it was all that awful to walk away from lower-middle class life-style to live in a mansion with a few other families.  

I don't know what the next year holds for me and my family.  I did mention to Larry last night how ironic it would be to wait all of these years for an expensive dish, just to choose to give it away a few months later.  While, I can get hung up on worldly activities and things, the older I get, the more they do not fill the void.  At this time in my life I don't know if I could live my life trying to pursue a bigger house, more land, nicer stuff, exciting activities.  I don't think I could do it in good conscience ;  what a waste of time, money and resources. My husband made a point recently that everyone in America is the rich young ruler.  Even our poorest have so much available to them.  Could we walk away from our hopes and dreams to follow Yeshua?  I would say that 99% can fit him in to our current lifestyle pretty well with no sacrifice.  Will you hold up when the cares of this world choke you, will you be able to navigate the obstacles in the way of the narrow gate?  Will I?  Only time will tell.  Time that is going by terribly fast. 

For: Les Mis Fans

Who am I? Who am I?  I'm...I'm....I'm nearly 35 years into this journey and every time I think I know who I am, It is time to reevaluate.   Hmm, let's see:  I'm a wife, a mother, a friend, an enemy.  I'm a servant, a ruler, a creator, a destroyer.  I'm a joker,  I'm a smoker,  I'm a midnight toker.   Ok, enough of that.  I'm not really a smoker and I don't know what midnight toking is, unless that is what you might call my late night ramblings on blogger.  One thing I know is that I am a lover of music. 

Music has been a huge part of my life since I could remember.  I can take about any conversation and put it to an oldie, show tune and even a gospel hymn.  I grew up with so much music in my life.  The good stuff came from a record or cassette tape.  I heard very little live music as a child, except for hymns at church or concerts in the park. 

The one event that will stay with me forever is my 8th grade trip to Chicago to see Les Miserable.  Our choir teacher introduced us to the music.  Looking back, and recognizing that I have an almost 8th grader, I can't believe they let us go.  The language and subject matter was nowhere near appropriate for the 8th grade.  I still cringe at some of the subject matter that I would have heard.  But the music was beautiful and I guess that as long as the vulgarity is put to an amazing score than it isn't offensive anymore, right? 

I have been a singer since I was a little girl and, that year, I was recognized for a Jr Achievement honor.   I prepared, I Dreamed a Dream, to sing at the banquet but I was unable to go; issues with my parents’ divorce.  At the time I learned that song, I felt Fantine was living my life.  My middle school years we terrible and I would sing about dreaming that my life "was different from the hell that I was living."  It seems dramatic, but that life was hell.  

In contrast, I look at the life I have now and it is heaven.  All of the love I longed for as a preteen was filled, with a choice to be a disciple of Yeshua, when I was 15.  My high school and early twenties still had me stumbling through hell a little.  But now, the love I have is unreal.  I know I am loved by my Heavenly Father.  He lavishes me with love constantly.  The blessing he has poured out, on this once very lost little girl, is unimaginable.  Sometimes I wonder if life could really be this good.  Did the Almighty love me so much to give me a handsome, hardworking, smart, loving husband?  And on top of that, he loves me so much he gave me 4 beautiful, perfect, obedient, loving, caring thoughtful, smart, funny children!  


My soul belongs to God I know, I made that bargain long ago...

Who am I?  I am Barbra, wife, mother, friend, enemy.....child of Yeshua. 

Written back in October.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HPIos2mXbUE