'Loud and Clear' by Lauren Hill

This is another blog post by Lauren Hill, blogger of Champion Your Dreams. (She's a personal favorite blogger of mine.) You can see the post in its original format by clicking here.

Loud and Clear

Well my dear blog friends, for those of you faithfully dropping by here to see if I have gotten going on my intention to make things "loud and clear" here at FAITH FUEL, the answer is No, I am not yet at the point of broadcasting live or vlogging, but I haven't been silenced either. Sometimes when you're trying to break through into doing something new and you haven't completely succeeded, you can at least say you haven't stopped trying.

And you know why I'm trying to make a change in how I get my messages to you? Because certain people in my life are prodding me to do this and I have been resisting as though they were asking me to jump into a pool of alligators. I like writing down my thoughts and my struggles and my "lightbulb moments" of sudden illumination that I share with you all here; and I love speaking at Retreats and Conferences and Bible Studies. But to speak out into the blog world and try bringing you some words of encouragement in that manner- well, I would; I mean I'm not against doing that; but really, is that what I should be doing? (Can you hear the resistance?!)

My husband, Safety Bill, has been telling me that Change is in the Air. He says he can almost smell change coming, that it smells like something fresh and new. I don't smell anything. Well, other than Harry, who is in desperate need of a bath and total mowing- I mean, grooming. The only thing I sense is that I'm used to writing my thoughts and I'm used to posting them quietly. The only way you'd hear my posts is if you read them out loud. And now I've got a bit of prodding to change things, change the way I do things. Change the way I come across to you, how I come across to you.

But the key thing is that we do cross over- from resistance to cooperation, from fear to faith, from old ways of doing things to new ways of doing things. I don't even think you have to know exactly what you are doing when you start to make concrete changes in your life. Nobody would make changes if they waited till they were exactly sure of what they were doing!

I'm never exactly sure of what I'm doing- it's more like I'm sure of what- or Who- is motivating me to make the changes that I will eventually not be sure of. Does that make sense? I'm sure that God is behind the prodding for these changes. And actually, I'm sure God is behind not so much the changes themselves, but the willingness I need to have to make these adjustments and turning points.

God looks for bendable people. Flexible, bendable people are not willy nilly in their convictions- they're just open to how their convictions will be carried out. They know that when all is said and done, things just might look completely different than when they first started out on their new journey to Change.

Maybe you feel impressed to take a certain path, pursue a certain job, and you're just about to reach out and lay hold of it when- poof- it almost seems to evaporate. The offer is withdrawn; someone else gets the job. Maybe a serious relationship that you thought for sure was going to lead to a proposal of Happily Ever After is now a relationship crumbling into the dust. Maybe the Answer that you fasted and prayed for is now turning out to not exactly be the answer you were looking for. But, hold on! Don't throw the baby out with the bath water!

"Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known." (1 Cor. 13:12) Sometimes we only get part of the picture; sometimes we get a partial revelation of what God is doing but then we add to that partial our idea of what's happening. We need to get used to saying "I only know in part, but I can fully obey God." God is after our willingness to pursue Him and His will in all things. He knows we only see in part, but He's got the full picture. He will lead, and keep leading you, into the fullness of His will and His abundance.

Stumble about, if you have to- but at least stumble forward. Stumble into change. Thrash and flail about it, but do it anyway. That's what I'm doing. My techno-son is helping me make this transition with changes coming to my blog and website. My husband is prodding me. My friend Scott who has a ministry going through changes is encouraging me to get going. And most of all, God is calling me to enter into the Transition Time with gusto and excitement for the new things He has ahead. I don't really know what the changes I make now will lead to in the future. But I do know that my willingness to change- to move with God- will definitely keep me hearing Him calling me onward- and I will hear Him loud and clear.

"Remodeling" by Kelly O'Dell Stanley

My blogging has been infrequent and skattered at best this year. It's a time of unexpected change that's changing old mindsets and building new ones. It's something similar to Kelly's experience in the following article.

Remodeling
I'm a lot like the house I fixed up.
by Kelly O'Dell Stanley

When my husband and I bought a new (old) house, people thought we were crazy. But I had a vision. Never mind that the kitchen had ugly gray paneling on the walls, yellow-flecked Formica® countertops, blue plaid wallpaper, and poorly arranged appliances and countertops.

It didn't matter that the living room was papered in a busy, rust- and gold-colored print with birds and carriages, and had worn, gold sculptured carpet covering the hardwood floors. The shape of the rooms and the transom windows and 10-foot doors were hard to see in all that clutter, but I knew they were there.

In my mind, I could see the end result—the mix of textures, the colors of the décor, the way I'd emphasize the architectural features, and the way the rooms would flow together. I knew it would be perfect.

Partway through the process, though, I became less sure. Much less. We had a whole house to redo. Although the lines were good, every surface needed something. Peeling up the shag carpet, we discovered a spongy residue that had to be scraped off by hand. Removing wallpaper revealed cracks we didn't expect. The cabinets weren't a standard depth, meaning the sink and countertop we'd purchased didn't fit without some inspired retrofitting. The filthy cast iron bathtub had to be smashed into pieces to be carried through the bathroom door. The electricians ran into one problem after another as they rewired, hung new lights, wired new outlets. We had to remove a lowered ceiling, haul off trash, wash and scrub and paint—and my hands, elbows and shoulders ached.

I developed tendonitis, and my doctor said I shouldn't paint. But I discovered that if I shook out my hands every little bit, I could manage 20 minutes at a time before the pain became excruciating. It was one thing after another after another, and I started to believe that the process would never end.

Glances into the Future
Walking through the debris covering the floor from the demolition and seeing the cabinet frames without the doors, cut apart for rebuilding, I was deeply discouraged. It was so much harder than I expected, and it took so much time. All my family and friends were helping—my husband worked on something every night when he got home from work, my friends brought bottles of wine and wallpaper scrapers—but I felt the weight of it all.

I didn't know what to do most of the time, and without the help of my dad, I never would have made it through. He came and patiently, creatively, thoroughly rebuilt the kitchen for me, one step at a time. If something didn't fit, we re-cut it. If something broke, we made a new one. Each task brought forward another problem, and each time, as I was ready to cry, my dad stepped back, thought for a minute, and presented a solution. He's an artist, and his father had been a cabinet-maker, so he knew how to build things. Sometimes our first attempt didn't work, so we'd have to try again.

I spent the summer wanting to cry, to curl up into a ball somewhere and never come out. But almost daily, my dad would call. "I'm on my way. Meet me over there?" I'd make excuses to my clients, change into old clothes, and walk the block to the new house to wait for him. Slowly but surely, the kitchen came together, and I loved the time we spent together, side by side.

I'm not even sure when it happened, when we finally turned the corner from disaster to improvement. But we did. Near the end of the summer, I was granted moments, glances into the future, insight into the finished product.

At first, they were mere glimpses, a view stolen through a keyhole. Eventually the view became wider, until whole rooms were complete. Paint cans were banished to the basement, we relinquished the trailer used to haul trash to the dump, and the to-do list shrank to just a couple items. Now the house is beautiful, stylish, and complete. But the most dramatic change, my favorite part, is my new kitchen. When I walk through it, I'm filled with wonder. Gleaming new countertops, colorful cabinets, pretty brushed nickel hardware, crisp white wainscoting, shiny floor. Cabinets and drawers properly positioned, appliances in the right place, straight corners and clean surfaces, and every detail as it should be.

God's Remodeling
My mom walked into the kitchen one day when we were nearly done and mused out loud, "I never thought it could look this good. Did you?" Yes. My dad and I did. We had our moments of doubt, our disappointments and failures and frustrations. But all the effort was worth it. I'm so proud of what we accomplished, and so is he. It's not his kitchen, yet he retains ownership of the transformation.

Reminds me of how God works with us. He sees something inside us—an inherent beauty, a solid structure—and he goes to work. The change isn't immediate, and sometimes things look worse before they start to look better. There are times when we're just downright ugly and a big ol' mess. But he's patient and creative and oh-so-thorough. If something doesn't work, he fixes it. If it's broken, he tosses it out and replaces it with something new. If it cracks, he makes a new one to replace it. The solutions are never what you expect, and sometimes the remodeling creates other, new issues to deal with. Yet he steadfastly continues the work he began, knowing the end result will be glorious, better than anyone ever imagined. He knows exactly what he's doing.

All he wants is to spend time with us, working side by side. All he asks is that we trust his abilities and yield ourselves to his vision. So we do, eagerly awaiting the time when we will see what he had in mind for us all along.

To read more of Kelly's writing, visit her blog the whole box of donuts.


"For I know what I have planned for you,'says the LORD.' I have plans to prosper you, not to harm you. I have plans to give you a future filled with hope." (Jeremiah 29:11 .NET Bible)

Hello, World. The Focus is Change.

Hi. My name is Clarissa. I am a Christian with a desire to help people better their lives. My main desire is to hopefully draw people to Jesus Christ, but until that point, maybe I can provide info that will help change your life for the better.

For now, the focus is on the word change. I've submitted an article about change to ezine.com, but I'm waiting for it to be reviewed. Until then, why not check out these articles (on the same site) regarding change:

Coping with Change - Develop Your Personal Strategy

Affirmations and the Power to Change

Change and Transition - 10 Steps to Surviving Change Elegantly

Stop Looking Back!

Looking at Life Through Your Rearview Mirror