back from the land of blah

Yesterday was no fun... at least for me. I had a 24 hour stomach bug.

My children seem to have survived none the worse for the wear. They ate pretty much whatever they wanted, watched movies non-stop, and for some unknown reason, decided to color the carpet in the middle of the living room bright orange. 

 Yes. 

Bright Orange. 

Zion was the culprit. Someone suggested that he just wanted the room to match his hair. 

 

(this is a picture I forgot to post from his "real birthday", with his sad little cake I whipped up on Monday)

According to the wonderful world of the internet, Murphy's Oil soap will take crayon out of carpet. I have been feeling better today, but not that much better, so that hasn't been tested yet. Just trying to catch up with the other destruction my children orchestrated during my "down time" (not to mention the fact that I hadn't fully finished cleaning up from our two days in a row of cookies!) was enough for my recovering body to take on today. 

 It seems that God didn't agree with that theory though. 

Although I felt that my recovering body deserved a tiny break, He however, did not seem to think that my recovering brain, deserved the same. 

 I cannot ever remember what I have, and have not, mentioned on here, so let me back up a little. For at least six months now, the LDS missionary boys have been stopping by on a regular basis to "reach out" to me. I really don't mind. This may make me a liberal, but I truly believe that everyone who truly seeks Jesus with their whole heart will find him. He wants to be found~ truly He does, so I don't mind hearing what they have to say. I am not threatened 

 Anyway, I listen to them with respect. Argue with them as respectfully as I can. Disagree with them, but still, with respect, because when it all boils down, I believe that they are my brothers in Christ. I think they are misled, and are misleading others along with them, but I can't help but respect the honesty I see shining out of their eyes, and the true belief I hear in their voices. 

 Over and over, we play this game. I have gone through at least four missionaries now. They finish their time on the mission, move on... one as even gone home and gotten married now, but still, they come to me. I don't think Andy has even met these last two. 

 My friend Emily, who was here baking cookies with me on Tuesday is actually Mormon. We have a close enough friendship that I love her, and she can love me, despite our differences in belief. So we talked about the missionaries while she was over, about how I love to feed them, and talk about their families with them, and she is actually the one who gave me the update about the one who is now married. As I mentioned before ~ she can love me, and accept me, without trying to convert me. 

 Usually they will not come inside, because it is not considered appropriate for them, as young, unmarried men to come inside my house while my husband is not home. So we stand out in the yard, and I try to give them something to eat. I figure they are away from home, and miss their Mom's cooking, and I almost always have cookies, or banana bread, or something around. 

 I hadn't seen my boys since before Thanksgiving. I was slightly concerned about them actually. But today, they brought someone extra with them. I guess he an elder in the church, or something. A slightly older guy, I assume married, because they said it was okay for them to come inside when he was with them. 

 I wasn't ready today. I wasn't prepared. I wasn't prayed up today, like I normally try to be. I hadn't even read my devotions today, for crying in the mud. 

 And I felt outnumbered, and outmaneuvered. 

 They were not rude. They were not overly pushy. They were just their usual, absolute selves, plus one more. Absolute. That is the best word I can think of to describe them. 

 I think I was just still tired, and hadn't eaten a real meal in over 24 hours, and my house was a mess, and my children were noisy.... overwhelmed is a good word. 

 I didn't even remember to give them cookies. And I had tons of them, all over the house! 

 I feel like a failure. What does God want from me? Why does He send them to me? 

 I told them I would read some more, and try to have an open mind. I don't know that I can be completely honest about that. I am not sure my mind is open at all. I don't know that I can minister to them, without openly looking at what they have to say, but truly and honestly, right this minute.... I don't want to. 

 I will give them this. They do challenge me to learn more about why I believe what I believe. What scripture EXACTLY is my theology based on? A lot of what I believe is simply "that is how I was taught", and I can't point out "WHY" in the Bible. 

I should be able to. 

 For now though, here is what I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt. Jesus came to earth, freely sacrificed himself for absolutely everyone, and will gladly cleanse anyone who asks Him. The moment you ask, you are forgiven. You are not perfect, and never will be... but if you wake up every morning, and with your whole heart ask "please God, help me be more like you want me to be", He will help you be more like He wants you to be.

 That, plain and simple, is my theology. 

And I guess, for now, I will just wake up every morning with that prayer.