On a good day, I am sure that right around half of my thoughts somehow relate back to how I feel about all things Amy.   ”Am I hungry?”  ”How do I really feel about doing laundry?” “Who am I kidding?  I’m a joke.” “What’s that delightful smell?  Oh, look at that.  It’s my hair.  I wonder if other people can smell my hair as well as I…”  I could go on, but I’d like to retain some dignity.   (I told my Mom that I had guessed “half” my daily thoughts were about me, and she says to me, “Half?  I bet it’s way more than half.”  For the purpose of this post, I’ve decided that she was referencing all mankind and not just me.)

By my guesstimate, a person has roughly 100,000 unique thoughts in a day.  (I could google for a real number, but let’s not carry on pretending I’m a legitimate news source and just work with my numbers for the purpose of illustration.)  If 5,000 of those thoughts relate to reasonable self care thought processing (Am I hungry?), and I’ve conservatively estimated that half my thoughts in a day are about me, then I have roughly 45,000 thoughts a day all about me that are purely superfluous.  Superfluous!  

Upon further reflection (thinking about me. what a world, what a world), I realize that my thoughts about me take a very familiar path on most occasions. “I think I will make tacos for dinner.  They served tacos at my old elementary school.  The cafeteria lady’s son was in my class and I teased him one day until he cried and we had to go to the principal’s office.  Man, I was a jerk kid.  Why does anybody like me?  I am a truly awful person.  Stop it.  You stop it right there. God has redeemed you and He promises to complete the good work He has begun in you.  Chill out and make those tacos.”

Here is my biggest thought as of late:  What if I actually could somehow donate the use of all that wasted thought time to a more productive thought activity?  What would I look like if I turned that thought time over to God through the Holy Spirit and just let Him get cozy as the bulk of my 100,000 thoughts? The above thought process would look like this: “I think I will make tacos for dinner. (pause for Holy Spirit intervention on my behalf.)  Chill out and make those tacos.”

This idea is both exciting and unnerving to me when I examine it closely.  This would mean taking thoughts about my reputation, ability, talents, role in relationships, and feelings about the past, and releasing them to the Holy Spirit to do with as He sees fit.  What would that leave me looking like?  Am I talking about a spiritual lobotomy?  Let’s be honest, I think I am about as weird as I want to get.  Do I trust Him not to turn me into an even bigger weirdo?

What if He compels me to grow my hair to my waist and wear skirts that I make myself and I like it?  What if I turn into one of those bloggers who won’t.shut.up about “Holy Spirit this and Holy Spirit that?”  What if I end up in a wheelchair, wearing velcro tennis shoes (my vainest fear), and I’m downright pleasant about it?  What if I decide that door to door is the way to evangelize? Please, oh please, oh please don’t make me look weird.  I understand discomfort (social and/or physical) is sometimes necessary, but, how about a nice and relaxing endurance shaping event?

I wrote last year about putting it all out there for God to examine and repair. I’m still in the exam room, but I thought I would just update you and let you know that it’s starting to look a little weird and it’s not all that bad.

(Here is a simple exercise that you can do at home if you might be in a lack of Bible reading rut: Read the book of James every night for a week.  It is five short chapters that you can get read in twenty minutes or less.  No need for commentary.  Just read it every night for a week and see if it doesn’t get you out of the rut.  Here’s a teaser from James 2:”Speak and act as those who are going to be judged by the law that gives freedom, because judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment!”)

Last spring we became members of the backyard chicken owning community. It was all Eric’s idea, but the whole family quickly took ownership and grew to love on all the chickens. Much to Eric’s dismay, we named them and you can’t eat a pet you have named, duh.

They were all babies when we got them and we learned after a few months that we had two roosters and seven hens.  The smaller of the two roosters found a new home because, well, they don’t say “too many cocks in the henhouse” for nothing.  You really can have too many.  (When you own chickens, you quickly learn the truth to the countless sayings we have that were borne in a chicken run.  They really do have a “pecking order” and you’ve never seen anything “as mad as a wet hen.”)

Our hens began giving us eggs towards the end of summer.  We can count on at least two dozen eggs a week and have found it to be a surprisingly great pleasure.  A few days before Christmas, I came out to the run and found my mom patiently waiting outside the coop.  She needed another egg for her baking and was waiting while the hen inside finished laying it.  You can’t get eggs fresher than that, I tell you what.

We have different breeds of chickens and most were purchased because they would be good egg layers (or good eating.  Sorry again, Eric.)  Eric did buy two hens based solely on the fact that they were cuddly and cute and he thought my Mom would immediately adore them.  The breed is called “silkie” and they lay tiny and almost worthless eggs, but they are just so precious that we happily took them home.

The kids named the smaller of the two”Snowflake”, but the larger of the two never had a name that would stick so we just called it “the bigger silkie.”

As all the other hens laid their eggs and immediately walked away from them with no regard, the silkies did not produce for some time.  Finally, Snowflake did lay an egg and did not seem concerned with what became of it.  As novice chicken farmers, we just assumed that chickens were too dumb to know what to do with an egg unless we went through the fifty steps recommended on chicken farming websites if we hoped to have any of our hens try and hatch an egg.

The bigger silkie finally laid an egg one week before Christmas and then disappeared into the coop with it.  Certain that she would lose interest in short order, we waited for her to emerge.  After one week, we began to worry about her.  She did not come out to eat or drink, but stayed firmly and militantly roosted on top of that egg.

Everything we read told us that this was a futile attempt.  The weather was intermittently freezing and she eventually had stayed in there longer than the 21 days we learned were needed.  I started to feel sorry for her poor little Mama heart.  Whenever anyone tried to move her, she pecked fiercely until that hand was removed.  I began to wonder if maybe we would have to force her off her dud egg.

But then, this morning happened.  While we were eating breakfast Ian says, “I hear chirping!”  We all ran outside to the coop and, sure enough, there was a baby chick sitting in there with the unnamed silkie.  When that Mama silkie saw us looking at her, she quickly tucked her little baby right back under her warm body.

We are stunned.  I am not sure how many times we all thanked God with a hearty laugh for His faithfulness to His creatures, even as all the odds were against her.  After very little deliberation, it was decided that “the bigger silkie” deserved a name and that name should be Hannah.

I have always loved the story of Hannah from 1 Samuel.  She was barron, but faithful and never doubted that God could grant her a child.  When God did show mercy and give her child, even as all evidence said she never would, she raised him until he was three and then she returned the child into God’s service.  Samuel was his name and he was a diligent and wise servant of Elohim.

On the day that Hannah returned him, she prayed the beautiful prayer I am going to close this up with. Before I do, I have to remark again on the wonders of this world God created and the marvel of our little hen’s innate resolve to see this little chick through to today.  We all believed she was on a futile mission, but she knew better than we that God knows His creatures.

Then Hannah prayed and said:

“My heart rejoices in the LORD;
in the LORD my horn is lifted high.
My mouth boasts over my enemies,
for I delight in your deliverance.

“There is no one holy like the LORD;
there is no one besides you;
there is no Rock like our God.

“Do not keep talking so proudly
or let your mouth speak such arrogance,
for the LORD is a God who knows,
and by him deeds are weighed.

“The bows of the warriors are broken,
but those who stumbled are armed with strength.
Those who were full hire themselves out for food,
but those who were hungry are hungry no more.
She who was barren has borne seven children,
but she who has had many sons pines away.

“The LORD brings death and makes alive;
he brings down to the grave and raises up.
The LORD sends poverty and wealth;
he humbles and he exalts.
He raises the poor from the dust
and lifts the needy from the ash heap;
he seats them with princes
and has them inherit a throne of honor.

“For the foundations of the earth are the LORD’s;
on them he has set the world.
He will guard the feet of his faithful servants,
but the wicked will be silenced in the place of darkness.

“It is not by strength that one prevails;
those who oppose the LORD will be broken.
The Most High will thunder from heaven;
the LORD will judge the ends of the earth.

“He will give strength to his king
and exalt the horn of his anointed.”

I have terrible posture.  I make some of your grandmas look like super models when they sit next to me with my question mark of a spine.  I’m a perfect storm of bad habits and MS muscle atrophy.

This being “The Year I Get Better Instead of Worser” (no, you did not miss an announcement.  that was the announcement.), Eric encouraged me to see about getting a professional to take a look at where my muscles are and how we are doing after 17 years of MS.  He took me to see a fantastic physical therapist near our home and was kind enough to sit with me in the exam room while we waited to meet with him.

I sat there, all hunched over like some sort of bell ringer and Eric asks me if maybe I might feel compelled to sit straight when the doctor walked in.  I didn’t think long before answering, “Nope.  I’m putting it all out there.  How can he fix what I don’t tell him about?”

It was one of those statements where the brain immediately segues into how that very sentiment could be applied to faith walking with God.  Do I have faith that He intends good for me?  Do I have faith that He can heal all my brokenness?  Do I have faith that complete exposure won’t leave me destroyed?

How can He fix what I don’t acknowledge?

This is just me.  Checking in and shooting the bull over the journey.  Anybody else putting it all out there for the Great Physician?

When I started to do a list of 100 for this year, I decided to complicate it by giving it a narrowed topic.  This made the list become a real monster to write.  I cannot believe how much effort it was.  It was also a lot of fun.  I highly encourage anyone to attempt such a task.

If you see me with a smile on my face at any given time, it could be caused by any number of things. To help you in your sleuthing, here are 100 things that make me smile.

1. I always try to smile when I am leaving messages on people’s voicemail because I want the person I am calling to hear it in my voice and you can’t fake the sound of a smiling face.  You just can’t.
2. There are a lot of reasons why we got rid of the television.  One reason is Tyra Banks.  The day I sat through an entire episode of her show is the day I realized that I had a problem and needed to get off the junk.  The episode that I watched was about how to properly apply make-up.  Two lessons that stayed with me forever:  powder is a must AND smile when applying blush to just the apples of your cheeks.  I’ve tried to do it without smiling and it doesn’t work.  There’s no guessing where that apple is.  Sometimes, when I am putting on my make-up, I think with shame about how I came across this information and it is hard to smile, but I soldier on.  Tyra Banks makes me smile (to properly apply blush.)
3. Having all my nails the same length brings a smile.  My sister-in-law, Tonya, showed me this marvelous past time and I am happy every time I look at my hands and see that order has been restored in one small corner of my tiny kingdom.
4. Having sister-in-laws that I talk about nail care, among other things, with is smile inducing.  It is a real treat to know that I do not have a single in-law I would change.  Love, love, LOVE them all.
5. Walking into the laundry room right as the load in the washer or dryer finishes brings a grin.  This makes me feel like a homemaker ninja.
6. Picturing myself as a ninja righting the minor wrongs that occur in my loved ones lives is a fond daydream.  You’re just wrapping up a story with me about how your neighbor parks on your lawn and I’m lost in a fantasy about me as a ninja stealing his garden gnome.  I’m pretty sure that I’d be an awe inspiring ninja.
7. Floating in the pool always makes me happy.  I could just lay there all day.  Getting onto the float is graceless and mortifying, so once I’m locked in to that bad boy I am pretty committed.
8. A precisely made bed is heaven.  When I see a bed that is not just made, but made with pristine lines and a certain crispness, I feel immediately relaxed and smiley.
9. Vacuum lines on carpet invokes ordered peace.  Nothing says, “Top notch cleaning happened here” more than lines in the carpet from the vacuum.
10. While I’m on this train, I also LOVE a clean and dry kitchen sink.  Dry says that someone is on top of their game.  Don’t mess with that person.
11. Spell check make me happy.  I would have gone my whole life spelling it vaccum instead of vacuum if it wasn’t for spell check and its angry red squiggle lines.
12. Back scratchers are fantastic tools that you never appreciate until you get one as a gag gift and then it turns into a prized possession.  My back scratcher makes me unitchy and this makes me smile.
13. My husband smokes a pipe.  This makes me neither happy nor unhappy.  However, when he makes an especially brilliant point and then smugly clamps that pipe between his teeth for emphasis?  This makes me giggly.
14. Paying less than three dollars for an awesome wardrobe piece makes me over the moon happy.  I LOVE to shop and I especially love to shop at thrift stores on sales days.  There’s nothing like a huge bag of retail therapy for under twenty bucks.
15. Dental floss picks.  They made flossing a reality for me and I can’t make a list of 100 things that make me smile without giving them a shout out.
16. Knowing that Oprah Winfrey’s network, aptly named “OWN” is floundering.  She doesn’t know this, but she is my chosen nemesis and I’m just enough of a jerk to grin when I read about her low viewership.
17. I met some real life ladies one time who were on Oprah’s Favorite Things one year.  They both got cars and Ipads.  I asked both of them if their lives were more awesome today than before and they both said, “not really.”  Having my long held suspicions proven makes me smile.
18. My wedding ring tan line makes me happy.  Even my skin cells are committed to this marriage.
19. I like buying those cute little stickers for my finger and toe nails.  When I look down and see that little white flower on my big toe, I first get confused and wonder what on earth it is on my toe, but then I look closer and remember the white flower sticker that I glued on there the night before.  Remembering my fiscal cleverness makes me smile.
20. When Facebook first introduced the “like” option, I thought it was lame.  But now I smile every time I see that I got another “like”.   I don’t “like” as often as I should.  Serious Facebookers might appreciate it if I did.
21. I am not a serious Facebooker.  But, I totally am.  I’m not.  Well, maybe a little serious.  Socializing on Facebook makes me smile.  Seriously.
22. Gum that whitens teeth AND freshens breath.  I feel like I am multi-tasking when I chew gum like this.
23. I know that my Dad hates my brussels sprouts so much that I am only allowed to make them if he is in Alaska and I am not in Alaska.  His complete honesty, even at the risk of offending me, makes me smile.
24. I also do not like my brussels sprouts.  Being a grown up and eating them anyway makes me smile.  In a gaggy kind of way.
25. When something ridiculous is said in a large gathering of people and I can get a girlfriend’s eyeballs from across the room and we can say, “Did you see that!?” “Yeah.  I am so offended and also amused!” with only our eyes, that makes my heart grin.
26. I like it that my husband sends me regular texts that say, “I love you”, but when he gets all romantical and writes something from the heart I get all giggly and smiley like a teenager.
27. I really enjoy using words that aren’t words and not explaining myself, but rather assuming that my reader or listener appreciates my creative use of the language.  Fake adjectives are way awesomer than real ones.
28. Anytime I am in a car or a plane and I get a glimpse of some awesome view that belongs on a calendar or a puzzle, I feel like God has given me that view as a special present just for me and that always make me smile.
29. One time Mackenzie and I were going for a walk and we came up over a little hill that exposed a beautiful view of the city just as the lights were coming on.  Mackenzie gasps and stops in her tracks to take it in.  ”Just look at it, Mom,” she says.  Sharing something I love with someone I love makes the something I love and the someone I love even more cool and that makes me smile.  You know?
30. After militantly sweating out every Texas summer in my adult life in jeans (because I am a cutter of a different breed, evidently), I announced that this summer would be the summer of the skirt.  Aside from looking a little like a devoted Mormon, I have stayed cool and comfortable all summer.  Skirts that don’t make me look like a devoted Mormon make me smile.
31. I do not enjoy watching any of the “Star Wars” movies.  My kids have a fantastic working vocabulary of every one of them because they have a Dad devoted to their well rounded cultural education.  Parenting with someone different than me makes me happy.
32. My kids diligently avoid saying the b-u-t-t word around me and likely suspect that I’d never say it.  Their adorable belief in my virtue makes my heart smile every time I hear them stammer and say, “uh, bottom”.
33. When the weather starts to get a little bit cold, but the sun is still shining, I smile and feel all sorts of cozy to climb into a hot car.
34. Big, feminine hats make me very happy.  There are no words than can describe how awesome I feel about myself when I get to strut into a room wearing a fabulous hat.
35. I like to wear big, chunky heels, but they have to be very light weight for me to manage them.  When I find such a pair priced under twenty dollars I happily take them to the register with a glow about me.
36. Any time I wake up in the morning already knowing what I am going to make for dinner I float through the day in a haze of happy.
37. I am always happy to offer unsolicited advice to strangers I meet along the way.  I walk away feeling like I have made the world a brighter place.  They may not feel the same way, but I wouldn’t know because they are an unknown stranger and ignorance is bliss.
38.  I don’t know who it is, but there is a member of my household whom I can always count on to replace the toilet paper when it runs out.  Having a family that produces such diligence can only be a good thing.
39. Due to poor packing for a recent trip, I now have two toothbrushes in play.  When I go to brush my teeth and have my pick of the brushes, I feel quite luxurious and that makes me happy.
40. My family just received season passes to my high school’s sporting events and the encouragement that, “Any time a Dodd walks on this campus, it’s a good thing.”  Being one of the Dodd kids has always made me smile.
41. I ran across my high school drama teacher a few months back.  When I told Mackenzie who she was, Mackenzie says, “You were taught to be dramatic?”  Mackenzie is my biggest believer and my biggest fan.  She makes me smile.
42. When I was a senior in high school my friends and I would pass notes back and forth about our senior government teacher and joke that we were all dating him secretly.  We tore those notes up after each class and threw them away.  He NCISed us, read the notes, and began making sideways comments about them during class to make us squirm.  I can smile about that without blushing bright red now.
43. I have a pet goose named Gertrude and my neighbor has a pet goat named Snickers.  Gertrude and Snickers get into honking/bleating back and forths that can go on for more than ten minutes.  Animals communicating about living conditions and escape plans is funny to me.
44. Eric bought me Gertrude as a Mother’s Day gift because I thought she was the cutest thing ever and I guess my smile made him think that I HAD to have a pet goose.  Having a husband who diligently reads my face to see how he can please me makes my heart smile SO very big.
45. We have a chicken that we thought was a girl until “she” began cockle doodle doing.  His face is so earnest and his need to belt it out so desperate that it makes me smile.  When it stops making me smile, well, people eat roosters for less.
46. Our hens make the exact same clucking sound as the Cadberry Bunny every time they lay eggs.  You cannot not smile when you hear that.
47. My three year old niece, Avery, often says, “Yeah!” in the affirmative like Wayne Campbell on “Wayne’s World”.  Sometimes I ask her questions with an obvious answer just so she will say it and I can smile.
48. I live a literal stone’s throw from my parents and also from my younger brother and his family.  Sitting outside in the common area and having random family and kids come by to sit for a visit is a highlight of every day and it makes me and everyone who gets to come and visit this place smile.
49. Living as we do has given us the freedom to run to the grocery or out for a quick lunch date with no worries about the kids not having a grown-up nearby.  It can’t last forever, but it sure makes me smile while we’ve got it.
50. Here in a minute, I am going to say to my kids that it is time for bed.  They will brush their teeth, put on pajamas and go to bed with no parental intervention until it is time for prayers.  Getting kids to this age would make anyone smile.
51. I have made life long friends on the internet.  Finally coming to terms with the fact that I am one of “those people” makes me smile.
52. Whenever I get asked a question about something I am an expert in (like parenting, for example) I always get a smug smile across my face before I answer.
53. My smug smile is almost always followed by an, “I’m sorry.  I had no idea it was combustible.  I’m sure your Grandma will understand” smile.  It’s a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless.
54. When Mackenzie says, “Mommy?” I cringe because I know she is about to ask me to do something that will require me to get up.  When Mackenzie says, “Mama?” I smile because I know I am about to hear something very interesting.  She doesn’t know that I know the code.
55. When I’m feeling blue and in the dumps, I have girlfriends who will dare to look me in the eye and say, “Seriously!?  Get up!  Let’s do this!”  Friends like that make me smile.  A few days later.  After I kicked them out of my house.
56. I like bright and colorful knee high socks, but they can’t look like something Kenzie should wear.  This makes finding such socks a very difficult chore.  When I find them, I smile big.
57. Holy cow, America!!  Are we only on 57!?  This is going to take me FOREVER.  That reminds me:  My kids recently saw “The Sandlot” and have since only said “forever” like the kids in the movie.  ”For-eh-vur” makes me smile.
58. My brother-in-law (I only have one) is a hipster and this means that he brings all things cutting edge into my life.  I’m too much of a doofus to be a hipster, but because of David I have the inside scoop on their music and coffee.  Drinking my super good, hipster approved coffee makes me smile.  Smugly.
59. David is the one who showed my kids “The Sandlot” and I am pretty sure he caught that segue.  Smart, hipster brother-in-laws make me smile.
60. My current Facebook profile picture really bugs Eric; but it makes me smile, so it stays.
61. Eric is rarely very active on Facebook or my blog, but when he does come on to give me a little praise, I get all kinds of smiley.
62. The start of a new school year means that it won’t be long before the college underclassmen start posting their Facebook pictures of their super awesome tattoos and/or piercings.  I smile when I see those pictures because I got one too and I remember what it was like to be unique and clever.  Just like everyone else.
63. I presented Isaiah 51-52 to a ladies group recently.  A baby believer told me that she was going home to read Isaiah like never before.  That is why I do what I do.  That baby believer made me smile and still makes me smile.
64. Any time I go to present memorized Scripture dramatically, there is always one person in the room who whips their Bible out to read along.  Those people used to make me break out in a cold sweat and cry a little inside because I know that they know when I mess up.  Now, I smile while I break out in a cold sweat and cry inside – and that’s progress.
65. I smile when little toddlers do the long stumble and fall down.  And then I immediately wipe the smile off my face and say, “Aww.  Poor Baby.”, even though I am still smiling in my head.
66. Angry teenagers loaded with piercings, cigarettes, and black nail polish make me smile.  Mostly because I want to hug them and smiling just seems like the safer alternative.
67. Tiny little dogs are just about the cutest thing ever and they make me break down into a puddle of smiling.
68. I just spent a whole hour of my life that I will never get back trying to put a funny picture of Oprah on number 17.  I failed at getting it centered and finally gave up.  Being honest with my ability level make me smile.
69. Sometimes, while I am working on this list, I think about certain people reading it and I smile because I know they are going to be smiling.  Working on this list is making my face hurt.
70. Read Isaiah 61:10 out-loud and with a thick Southern drawl.  Do this without smiling.  I can’t.
71. I have Febrezed my dog.  Confessing to tiny crimes makes me smile.
72. Confessing to the really deep dark ugly sins (like lust, envy, gossip and greed for example) doesn’t usually make me smile right away.  The confession itself is very uncomfortable.  Repentance follows confession and I smile a whole lot about that.  I prefer to stay there.
73. One day I was feeling especially blue and I went to the Salvation Army for a retail therapy session.  I found a t-shirt that said, “Happy Camper” and bought it right away because I was not a happy camper and the irony of it made me smile.  I am now a happy camper and I have the t-shirt to prove it.
74. Another time, when I was looking for some retail therapy, I found a fabulous blazer from Nine West for only four dollars.  Listen y’all, I think I could do a whole list of 100 deals I’ve gotten.  Being fancy and looking cute makes me smile.  Doing it for pennies on the dollar makes me smile even bigger.
75. This past summer I decided to go ahead and own the fact that I am Miss Fancy Pants.  I like to wear blingy jewelry and cute pants.  I am a daughter of the King (real talk, y’all) and it is okay if I sometimes dress like it.  Owning the truth of who I am makes me smile even to type about it.
76. I had a George Clooney crush back in the days of ER.  I happened to marry a fellow whose eyes crinkle JUST like George Clooney’s when he smiles.  When his eyes smile, I smile.
77. I remember well how smugly I smiled when I got the pre-marital advice that, “Marriage is a lot of work” from well meaning old people who had no idea how much I loved Eric and that Eric and I were going to be different.
78. Can I use one of these to repeat that smug smiles lead to chagrined ”my bad” kind of smiles?  This is always true.  No smug.
79. Being married is not a whole lot of work – being married happily is.  I freely give that advice to all beaming young girls with fresh faces and clean engagement rings that haven’t seen real duty yet.  I forgive their smug smiles because I know.  I know.  Knowing makes me smile.
80. Anytime a camera gets pointed at me, I always smile in this super fake, very uncomfortable, awkward way.  I don’t know why.  It’s a sad condition that I have never been able to shake.  This concerns me when I think about my plans to be the next Oprah (What!? Yeah.  I said it.)  Imagine the unflattering covers on National Enquirer.
81. Two weeks ago my son made the leap from reading because I said so to reading because it is an activity he enjoys.  It was a long road with him and I smile every time I walk in the room and see him cross legged and lost in a book.
82. Ian asked me a few days ago if he could please have a job because he needed some money “real bad.”  Why was he jonesin’ for cash?  ”So I can put it in the bank.”  Being the next Donald Trump’s Mom makes me smile.
83. I recently developed a case of trigeminal neuralgia, related to the multiple sclerosis.  This causes me to have an occasional and excruciating face tic.  Smiling can bring on a tic.  Also?  A breeze, a love pat, the brush of my hand to move my hair, the pulling on of a sweater, a big yawn, and also, smirking.  I continue to smile, though a bit like Popeye.
84. I am certain that multiple sclerosis is not going to be the undoing of me.  I am so very certain of this, that sometimes I imagine myself running to the tune of “The Eye of the Tiger” and I smile real big because I feel pretty confident that could happen.  ”It’s the eye of the tiger, it’s the thrill of the fight…”
85. Right now though, I don’t run.  I don’t even walk very pretty.  This might make some people frown, but I get the joy of wrapping my hands around a cane handmade for me by a dear soul because she wanted me to know that she is rooting for me.  I’ve got stands full of people rooting for me.  My whole life is one big high five and “atta girl!”  There’s no reason not to smile.
86. Let’s use number 86 to revisit “The Eye of the Tiger”.  See if singing it in your head doesn’t make you smile.
87. I recently got to make a phone call to a hospital in Israel.  Because of the time difference, and having to get my phone plan changed to allow international calling, it took me 24 hours before I was able to get through and do my two minutes or less of chatting.  I was SUPER pumped.  Here I am, some poor little Gentile kid, calling ISRAEL.  It really wasn’t that a big of a deal, but having to wait gave it a sense of huge something.  I’m pretty sure I sounded like a grinning doofus when I said, “My name is Amy Peterson and I’m calling from Texas, USA.”
88. This summer, my Eric planned a two week road trip for our family that was lovely and smooth from driveway to driveway.  It was a dream of a journey and he was the best captain ever.  I smile every time I think about sitting there beside him while we drove through the midwest.
89. On our Christmas trip to WI some years back, Eric and I started a silly car game where we competed to see who could say “Iowa” with the least amount of mouth movement.  We crack each other up every time we pass through that lovely state saying it over and over.  ”Eye-Yuh”
90. Eric has a collection of hats that he wears according to weather and mood.  I love walking around with a fellow in a smart geezer cap.
91. A recent visit to a physical therapist has me doing some crazy weird daily stretches and eating (gag) bananas.  I dislike exercise AND bananas.  Knowing that I can do my body a solid favor by giving it good food even though I dislike good food makes me smile.
92. Why on earth would I consult a physical therapist? Deciding to get off my rear end and do something about this multiple sclerosis makes me smile.  Like Popeye.  Take that, MS!
93. When I’m not busy eating bananas, I enjoy the occasional Dove’s dark chocolate.  I’m always embarrassed if the cheesy little Dove’s message of celebrated mediocrity makes me smile.  ”Flawed is fabulous!”  Yay!!  Boo!!?  I’m so confused.  Maybe flawed is simple bearable, Dove’s.  Did ya think of that?
94. One day I would like to see a more engaging Dove’s wrapper.  ”Congratulations on not getting eaten by zombies.”  That’s how you grab the public’s eye, Dove’s.  That’s how you make the people smile.
95. Sorry about the above rant, but boxing against giant, faceless, corporations makes me smile.  Occupy Dove’s!!
96. Being as sedentary as I’ve become over the past few years has meant that my son has an easier time pinning me down for an hour long play by play of something funny he saw or read.  Right now, I smile and nod even though I can only understand every third word through his rushed, high pitched retelling.  I smile and nod because my son is spending his time telling me about something that matters and my crushed body is just the thing I need to force me to sit and cherish it.  Thank you, crushed body.  I mean it.
97. Eric just sat down beside me with a delicious sandwich made with Thanksgiving turkey.  He makes the best sandwiches hands down among anyone I know.  He is making me a sandwich now and I’m totes smiley face.
98. Seeing old men who are old school gentlemen to their little old ladies makes me smile.  I just love seeing that.
99. My three year old niece walked into the room recently and said this sentence, “Guys, I’m not wearing any pants and I’m sorry about that, but my Mommy is going to get me some new pants and when she does I will be wearing pants, but right now I am not wearing pants and I am just really, really, so very sorry about that.”  When I am ninety, I am pulling that bit in a Burger King.  Thinking about that plan cracks me up and gives me something to live for.
100. My 83 year old friend told me some time ago that, “You don’t have an inner child.  You have an inner old lady and I suspect she smokes.”  I think she’s on to something and that makes my inner old lady smile.  And wheeze for a breath.

*Tap, tap, tap* Is this thing on?

Welcome to my once every other month post. I’m glad you both could join me for what is sure to be a riveting discussion.

Hey! Where are you going? Where did that guy go?

Welp. I guess it’s just you and me.  That’s okay.  I like intimate, one-on-one kind of chats anyway.

So, I just got back from that retreat I mentioned in my previous post (you won’t have to scroll far) and I have to say that it was pretty enlightening.  We spent the weekend surrounded by women’s stories of how they met Christ and how their lives were impacted by walking with Christ.

I wrote in another previous post (again, you won’t strain your eyeball to find it) that I was in the middle of a great heartache.  Much to my surprise, I learned that I am not the only person on the whole wide earth to go through my exact heartache.  I was approached by women older and wiser than I who had been there, done that, survived and stood victorious.  Their testimonies gave me incredible strength and resolve.

A whole new need for testimonies was exposed to me.  I already knew that a testimony can open the door to sharing the Gospel, but that weekend I learned that a solid testimony can embolden a tired soldier who needs the reprieve.  Tell your story.  Tell people that you survived.  Tell them that God met you, He carried you, and He let you stand in victory.

Thank you for reading my stories.  I hope they encourage you as so many others have me.

Just in case you take me very seriously and give much weight to my every word: I am a student of this topic and, while I speak as one with authority, you should do your own research and draw your own conclusions.  I only speak with presumed authority because this is my blog and I’m the boss.

In my search for information about the physical aspect of fasting I came across many sources that happily married ancient false god worship of the new age movement with Christianity.  Be very wary of everything you read on this topic because the majority that I’ve found is offensive to Truth.  (Fair warning: “Christian book store” does not always equal “Christian book.”)

The longest fast I’ve done is a six day fast.  During that time I drank only water and the occasional herbal tea to settle my stomach.   I was quite scared of such a fast when I felt called to it because my previous standard of 29-36 hours was grueling and the hunger pangs were almost unbearable.

What I learned is that the foggy brain, stomach pain, headache, and other unpleasant symptoms are not actually symptoms of my body collapsing in on itself with hunger, but rather it is my body detoxing.  When the body starts to feast on its own fat stores, it starts with the weak, diseased, and unhealthy cells first.  This is uncomfortable, to say the least.  It is highly suggested that one eats a majority raw food diet in the days leading up to a fast to help ease the symptoms.  I personally ate three handfuls of peanut M&Ms before my fast began.  This may or may not have complicated my detox period.  I love M&Ms, so I’ll take the hit.

By day three I was over the headache (I was able to take an aspirin with little discomfort when it got unbearable) and I was starting to come out of the brain fog and into the slow and deliberate thinking process that I described in a previous post.  I spent the first two days either in bed, on the sofa, in the corner huddled by a space heater, or at the kitchen table staring blankly at a wall.  On the third day I got dressed up, put on my make-up and ran some errands.  Day three was much better.

Day four will be discussed in the next post as it bore one of two very profound moments of my fast.  What I will say here is that it is only because I was so empty of racing thoughts, hyper activity, and upside down priorities that I was able to have such moments.

Day six of my fast was a Sunday and I broke my fast with communion.  I did not intend that my fast would be broken in that way.  I had actually intended that it would be a seven day fast, though I did make the deliberate decision to take the cup and the bread with my church family.  It was one of the more profound communions of my walk and I will discuss it later.  Right now I want to simply make the point that even the tiniest crumb of bread can fully wake up and engage your digestive system.  By the end of worship services I knew that my fast was complete and that it was time to come down from my mountain top.  I felt a strong conviction that if I forced myself to make a full seven days it would be because of my competitive spirit, not because of God’s calling on my life.

If you feel called out to do a fast and you would like to know more about my experience, I welcome any questions.  It is because of others before me that I was able to have this awesome experience and I will happily pay it forward to share with anyone who wants to know more.

The first independent fast I ever did was two years ago and it honestly amounted to a hunger strike.  I wrote out a prayer of petition and then spent the next 29 hours consuming nothing but water and praying that prayer.  I was certain that God would take me more seriously since I was so very hungry.

Write this down:  God does not respond to hunger strikes.

There are many reasons to fast and we have examples of all in scripture, but the primary motive seems to be to get in line with God’s will, not to bend God’s will.  One of the best things I learned from a faster before me is that fasting is not our gift to God, but rather His gift to us.

I think that the gifts of fasting are unique to the faster.  God knows you.  He knows your heart.  And He knows that what you need is wildly different from what I need.  I have received such abundance from fasting that I could not begin to easily share in a simple blog format, but I would like to share in this post the one gift that I believe is likely universal and shared by most.

After one day of fasting, I found that my brain was in a fog and thinking was tricky.  After three days, I found that quick thinking was not an option and answers had to be well thought out, even to the easy questions.  I assumed that this meant that my thinking was hampered, but by day four I realized that my thinking was actually deeper, more profound, and more productive than usual.  My thoughts were barred from racing and each thought was given laborious time to be considered to its fullest.

I had a very hard time focusing on reading scripture and instead spent many hours just being still.  Things which were once screaming priorities became simple background noise and all that was on my plate was stillness.  It is a stillness that I can’t describe and know that I won’t recapture outside of a fast from food.

Fasting is not about getting my way with God.  It is not about proving my seriousness or righteousness to God.  It is about slowing down, shutting up, and being still.  This was a big lesson for me to learn.

I received an unexpected gift on day four of my six day fast and I want to share that with you in its own post.  Before I do that, I want to discuss some of the biology of fasting and what happens on the cellular level because it was knowing what was happening to my body that emboldened me to press on with what was, for me, an extreme fast.  That will be the next post.  Please share your own experiences with fasting in the comments.  I would love to know about others’ journeys.

Let’s talk about fasting, shall we?  For years the word alone would make me shudder like the thought of running a marathon could.   My understanding of scripture is such that I never believed that fasting is necessary for salvation, just as running a marathon is not necessary to be called a “runner”; though both experiences can give deeper and more targeted direction to action.

My personal journey in this area is multi-faceted and I believe it will take more than one post to cover my thoughts, so let this post be an introduction to our discussion about the very beautiful, often neglected or distorted, gift that God has given us in fasting.

I can’t introduce this topic among Christians without first tackling Matthew 6:16-18 “When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show others they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to others that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen; and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”

I think this scripture has put many a muzzle on a faster so that even the benefits and joy of fasting are not discussed to avoid the dangerous possibility of being like the hypocrites who only fasted for the glory of themselves.  I have learned much from people who fast and are willing to share their experiences with me. Were they to sit quietly, I would still be stuck feeling like fasting was a marathon intended only for the very pious and serious spiritual giants of the faith and not for me.

I hope we can agree that this is a necessary discussion and that my efforts here are to benefit and embolden God’s Kingdom.  Everybody ready?  Get your swim caps on and let’s jump in.

A Fast By Any Other Name…

The first point about fasting that I would like to make, and the only one I’ll be touching on today, is this: there are many things we can abstain from for spiritual growth, but when fasting is mentioned in scripture it is always a fast from food.  Our examples are many and I will let you do your own study, but wrap your head firmly around the idea that fasting from food is what is meant when you see fasting mentioned in the Bible.

I mentioned in a previous post that I have shut down Facebook for this month to free up the mountains of time I wile away there.  Some of you may also have such a past time that you feel called to set aside from time to time.  I feel that this can be a God led time and that such a fast is good for the mind and spirit.  Both fasting from food and distraction are not our gift to God, but rather His gift to us as we make ourselves more available to His Word, His pruning, and His touch.

I don’t want to get too caught up on this point, but I need to be clear that when I say “fasting” in future posts I mean from food.  If the notion of such a thing is as daunting and scary to you as it once was to me, please join me in the next few posts as I discuss what has become the single most life changing element of my walk with Christ next to Scripture.

One thought that I have grown to love about Jonah is that it is an unquestionable example in the Old Testament of God seeking out the non-Jewish nations.  In my youth, I assumed that the Old Testament was strictly about God and the Jews and the New Testament was strictly about Jesus and the Christians.   In Jonah, the Old Testament, we see God interested in the saving of people who did not belong to the Hebrew nation.  They were not “chosen”, and yet they were. That’s pretty cool.

So, here we have Jonah: a prophet of God living among the Jewish nation.  The people around him look like he does, they talk like he does, and they believe like he does.  I imagine that he is comfortable with his life and work.  And then, God calls him out and tells him to go to Ninevah.

According to God, the problem with Ninevah was that their “wickedness has come up before Me”.  A study of history will tell you that Ninevah was at the center of all things wicked.  They were daily sacrificing children to their gods and goddesses.  There was a sexual element to their worship that likely meant that there was a good number of unwanted pregnancies, making sacrifice an easy and pious option for mending such a problem.   Ninevah was the capital of Assyria and the Assyrian armies made regular marches across the land and there were commonly known phrases that referenced the fear that would grip a mother’s heart when she heard the sound of pounding Assryian footsteps at the gates of their cities.

In short: Assyria was a terrifying place to visit and Ninevah was at the very heart of Assyria.

It is easy to assume that it was fear of Ninevah that led to Jonah’s decision to flee from the presence of the LORD, but that is not what Jonah says in chapter four.  Chapter four comes after Jonah has been swallowed by the fish, stewed in the fish’ belly for three days, vomited up by the fish and has made good on his promise to do as God commanded.   He told Ninevah that they were forty days away from being destroyed and Ninevah responds by fasting, putting on sackcloth and pleading with God for mercy.  And God has mercy.

The response of mercy is exactly what Jonah knew he’d see and didn’t want to see.  He wanted to see Ninevah destroyed and instead God had mercy.  He tells God, “…is this not what I said while I was still in my own country?  This is why I was so quick to flee to Tarshish.  For I know that You are a gracious and compassionate God… a God who relents from sending calamity.”

Jonah didn’t want to go to Ninevah because he didn’t want to see God have mercy on such a disgusting and repugnant people.

This is where I can relate to Jonah and where I don’t like what I see.  How easy it is to sit in my comfortable land among people who look and talk like me and speak great punishment on those who “don’t know their right hand from their left” as God said about Ninevah.

My mercy is as great as Jonah’s.  I cannot recite his words without hearing my own whiny voice raging in my head.   The mystery of it all is that a merciful and gracious God would still use one like Jonah.  And one like me.

Here we have Abraham who has been promised that he will be the father of countless generations.  In his very old age he has a son – one son.  To Abraham’s understanding, God’s entire promise rests on this boy.

Then one day, the day of Abraham’s proving, God tells Abraham to take his son to a certain mountain and on that mountain he is to offer his son as a burnt offering.

Here’s one of the many parts that gets to me: “Early the next morning Abraham got up and saddled his donkey.”

He’s just heard the most outrageous, absurd, out of character, no sense orders imaginable and he gets up early the next day to follow through.  Did he tell his wife?  Does she know?  I often assume that she couldn’t have known.

Then he gathers enough wood for the burnt offering.  I recently went camping with my family at a site that encouraged campers to gather fallen wood for campfires.  It was quite surprising to me the volume of wood that was needed for a good fire and it set my mind to wondering about Abraham and what he was thinking while he gathered the wood to sacrifice his son.

He sets out with his son and two servants for the mountain God told him about.  It was a certain mountain and the journey takes three days.  In my research I saw where a few scholars believe that the mountain was the same one that Jesus was crucified on.  I didn’t research this information myself, but I did find the thought very sobering.

Three days journey.  I’ve been on a three minute journey with my kids and they talk the whole time.  I can’t imagine what these three days were like.  Did Isaac comment on all the rocks and count the trees?  Does he talk to his Father about what he wants to be when he grows up?

At the end of three days, Abraham looks up and sees the place in the distance.  He takes the wood and places it on his son to carry.  Isaac carries the wood up the mountainside.  Jesus carried His cross up the mountainside. As they walk, we finally see some of the conversation between Father and son.  Isaac makes the observation that they have the wood and the fire for the burnt offering, but, “Where is the lamb for the burnt offering?”

I think I may always wonder about Abraham’s answer, “God Himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son.”  Does he say this because he knows that God provided this son and thus, the lamb?  Does he say this because he is hoping that God will provide a last minute substitution?  My Mom’s thought on this is that Abraham is fully vested in the knowledge that death is not final and that God will resurrect what is destroyed.

Without covering the whole story, I’d like to tell you my thoughts on the whole of Abraham’s proving.  God knew exactly how this was going to go down.  He knew that His servant Abraham was going to walk that long trail, climb that mountain, and raise a knife to slay his only son.  God knew all of this about Abraham, but it had to all happen so that Abraham knew what God knew.  Like gold proven with fire, Abraham stood in the flames and had his faith made more defined, more real, more solid.

Go ahead and read Genesis 22 for yourself.