One of my favorite stories in this series was about Amy Carmichael, an Irish/English missionary who spent most of her life serving Christ in India.  Part of her approach included adopting the dress and customs of the Indian people.

Amy left behind many letters, books, poems, and prayer journals, which have been a great testimony to generations of Christian women (including me).  As my children’s Sunday school lesson explains, there was one prayer that God never answered, at least not in the way Amy had wanted.

“When Amy Carmichael was a little girl, she asked God to change her brown eyes to blue because her mother had beautiful blue eyes.  She was heart-broken when God didn’t answer her prayer as she hoped.  Years later as a missionary in India, she darkened her skin with coffee and dressed as a native woman, so she could enter Indian temples and rescue the children enslaved there.

” ‘It is good that you have brown eyes,’ she was told by an Indian Christian. ‘If they were blue, you would be arrested at once, and your work here would be ended.’ ”

What a great testimony to nine-year-old children that God always gives us what is best for us– even in our appearance!

At first I didn’t know what that meant. Did he mean I was like Martha Stewart? Since it was a Christian organization, I quickly picked up that he meant I was like Martha of Bethany, sister of Mary and Lazarus (who really wasn’t that different from Martha Stewart, come to think of it).

I was a little offended. After all, Martha was the sister Jesus reprimanded for being too busy, right? In Luke 10:41-42, He says to her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”

In retrospect, I can see that my co-worker was right. I am a lot like Martha. I enjoy having people over to my house for dinner, but I get bent out of shape, cooking and cleaning and generally trying to make everything perfect. I used to have friends over after church on Sundays, until Lannie pointed out that I got so frustrated about not having time to prepare before company arrived that I made everyone uncomfortable.

I read a commentary about Martha this week that really hit close to home. I had always interpreted Jesus’ words to Martha to mean it was more important for her to listen to what Jesus had to say than it was for her to fuss over the meal preparations. I still think that’s a big part of it. Many times I run around like a chicken with my head cut off, doing something that Jesus hasn’t asked me to do, when what He really wants is for me to be still and listen.

There is also a lesson about hospitality in the story of Martha, as this commentary pointed out. Specifically, it is a lesson about what hospitality is not.

Hospitality is not impressing others with a fancy multiple-course meal or a spotless house. Martha could have prepared a simple meal and then had time to sit and enjoy Jesus’ company. Hospitality should be about building and strengthening relationships.

What is my motive for having people over to my house? Usually, it is to get to know someone better or to visit with friends. But how often do I spend so much time worrying about cooking and cleaning that I’m either too tired or too distracted to enjoy the company of my friends? That is just sad.

Today, as I was vacuuming and preparing spaghetti sauce in anticipation of a visit with a friend, I was again convicted by the story of Martha. My friend has a new baby, and her husband is out of town for work. Do I think she cares more about what I cook or about having a chance to eat while someone else holds her baby? Will she be checking for dust on my bookshelves or enjoying a conversation with a grown-up?

I need to learn from my Martha-ish tendencies and try to be a little more like Mary.

My CBS leader reminded us that, though we may not consider ourselves wealthy or indulgent like the cows of Bashan, we are certainly wealthy by worldwide standards.  The fact that I have central heat and air, two cars in my garage, and a refrigerator full of food makes me wealthier than most of the rest of the world.  Am I ignorant of the needs of others, even going so far as to withhold from giving to others so that I can buy something for myself?

I’ve never been the kind of girl that loves to shop or spend a lot of money.  I’ve always considered myself to be pretty frugal, but there is one thing that I find myself wasting money on more than anything else– eating out!  I have spent more money on Chili’s, McDonald’s, and Chick-fil-A than I have spent on tithing or charitable contributions in the past year…a LOT more!  That’s kind of embarassing.  I am about 20 pounds overweight, and I am spending money on food that makes me fatter instead of giving it to hungry people.  I really should be ashamed.  It’s a wonder God doesn’t point me out and call me a cow.

I read recently about another blogger who believes that instead of just giving something up for Lent, it is better to sacrifice something so that you can concentrate on something else that God wants you to do.  I think God would be honored if I sacrificed spending money on myself so that I could give to others.

Phillip (age 3) is going through a phase of calling anyone who disagrees with him “a liar.” He has also picked up the oh-so-mature habit of calling them a “Liar, Liar, pants on fire.” He started in on his daddy this morning, while we were still in bed (he’s our alarm clock), so in Lannie’s defense, he was still pretty groggy. The conversation went something like this…

Phillip: Liar, Liar, pants on fire.
Lannie: My pants aren’t on fire.
Phillip: You’re a liar, and your pants are on fire.
Lannie: If my pants were really on fire, I would hope you would put out the fire.
Phillip: I would get a bag of marshmallows and roast them.

I see an impeccable sense of comedic timing colliding with a long string of junior high school detentions in his future.

We took our second trip to the Little Rock Zoo (in 9 months) this week. Compared to the Memphis Zoo (which we visited at least 2-3 times a month while we lived in Memphis), it is a big disappointment; however, the visiting bird show was almost worth the price of admission. I’ll admit, the kids and I were both awed and terrified of the hawks and vultures that tapped our ears with the tips of their wings as they flew past our heads.

We didn’t sleep in as much as I wanted this summer, but we definitely visited the neighborhood pool more times than I can count. This may be the first time I’ve had an authentic (read non-tanning bed and non-tanning cream) tan since I was in middle school. The highlight of the summer for me came when Phillip learned to swim by himself (with his lifesaving vest), so that I could move from wrestling with him IN the pool to sitting on the side of the pool, thereby allowing my legs to see the light of day (at least from the knee up).

I am looking forward to starting our third (!) year of homeschooling on Monday, but I will miss the easy pace of summer. We’ve all gotten bored a time or two, but it has been a nice change.

I think I can set up my tweets to go directly to Facebook, so I should be able to continue to use both.  Lannie will have to show me how.

Lannie insists that Facebook is on its way out since it’s now open to everyone.  I mean, literally, everyone.  In the past couple of weeks, I have received friend requests from my mom, my dad, my mom’s cousin, my 9-year-old neice, and my 6-month-old nephew.  The last time I saw my nephew, he couldn’t sit up by himself, let alone type, so I suspect his mom runs his Facebook page for him.  The point is, Lannie insists that Facebook is no longer cool, but I still like it.  Very much.

If you’re a Twitter fan, you can follow me @honeybyrd75.  I think I wrote that correctly.  I’m not sure.  Lannie will tell me if it’s wrong.

“Mom, does a real cootie shot hurt?” she asked me.

“There’s no such thing as a real cootie shot,” I told her. “They’re just pretend.”

“I thought you had to get one when you get married,” she said. “You know, so your husband won’t give you cooties.”

We are settling into Little Rock.  It seems a little easier since we moved so recently.  We know what to do, or more importantly, what not to do.  The kids were so isolated when we first moved to Memphis, so I started trying to get them into homeschool groups before we even moved this time around.  They are going to enrichment classes (art, music, creative writing, etc.) one day a week at a place called the Homeschool Academy.  They are also taking P.E. classes at Arkansas Baptist through a satellite group.  Elizabeth seems satisfied with the number of new friends she’s made, so I’m happy with the arrangement.

The only thing we haven’t been able to jump-start is finding a church.  Looking for a church is a long and tedious process– I’ll never enjoy being a visitor.  We’ve visited five churches in the West Little Rock area so far, and I think we have one more to try tomorrow.  We definitely have a “type.”  Lannie (in particular) prefers a modern worship style, and a well-organized children’s program is important to me.  I also like a great missions outreach (local and international).  At this point, one church is definitely our favorite.  The only problem? It’s not a Baptist church.  This is really only a problem for the daughter of a Baptist preacher (who now works for a Baptist seminary).

One thing that has really suprised me since we’ve moved here is how easy it has been to re-connect with old friends from high school and college.  Facebook makes it so effortless!  I’ve messaged with friends and set up get-togethers without even having a phone number.  I’ve actually been out to eat with three friends in just a couple of weeks.  That has done so much to keep me from feeling lonely.

I’ll try to do better about keeping up with my blog.  The kids have said some really funny things in the past month.  Hopefully, I can remember what they said!