Parenting from the Overflow by Teri Lynne Underwood

Several weeks ago my friend Teri Lynne invited me to read and review her book, Parenting from the Overflow. I was happy to do it because I love her and wanted to help any way I could. I also knew it would be a great book.

I wasn't wrong. Parenting from the Overflow isn't really a parenting book. I mean, how many of those are out there? A bazillion? Not that we don't need them, but this book is different. Read what Teri Lynne has to say about her book here.

As mothers, we are the model our children learn from (if that thought isn't enough to frighten you, I don't know what is!). If we live our lives trying to figure this parenting thing on our own, we're going to end up frustrated, confused, and exhausted.

Parenting from the Overflow shows that it's possible to parent from the overflow of what God is doing in our lives. If we're allowing the Lord to move in us as He wants to, then we will use HIS model to parent from.

Something Teri Lynne said in the book brought me to tears (and it was just in the Introduction!).

"But in the midst of all this parent-learning and child-rearing, 
I pray I never lose sight of the 'better part' . . . 
and I will never get 
so focused on being a parent I forget I am also a child.

My heart is set on being a child who first sits
 at the feet of her Father, 

who calls out for His guidance and leans on His Word. 
And as I focus on being the child He created,
I am certain of this:

He will give me the wisdom to parent the child 

He has entrusted to me."

(Parenting from the Overflow, Introduction, p. 9, highlighting mine)

Oh, that I would learn to sit at the feet of my Father and learn to parent the way He parents me! I long to be the daughter who looks adoringly at her Abba (translated from Aramaic as "Daddy") as He patiently teaches me from His Word.

Parenting from the Overflow is broken into three parts, the first using the Fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5:22-23 to show the "Fruit That Overflows" from a life lived at the feet of the Father. The second part is filled with characteristics we will model to our children as we live out of the overflow of what He's doing in us. The last section is Bonus Content that has everything from how to resist "parenting publicly" (Facebook, anyone?) to learning how to get the most from your quiet time with the Lord and delving into Scripture.

All throughout the book there are questions and challenges she asks us to tackle. Some are easy to do...some, not so much. Which is one reason why I think this is such a great book!

I have not had the chance to really sit with this little book like I've wanted to. Almost every page had something in it that I wanted to really contemplate and "suss it out," as they say in Australia.  I can't wait to do that!

  

As part of the celebration of the launch of Parenting from the Overflow, Teri Lynne is graciously giving a PDF copy away to one Butterfly Genes reader! All you have to do to enter is leave a comment letting me know why you'd like the book. That's it! Easy-peasy. Of course, if you wanted to Tweet, Facebook, or any other kind of social-media-made-up-verb, go right ahead! I know Teri Lynne would appreciate the exposure!  

If you would like to purchase a copy, she has a PDF version for $5, a Kindle version for $5, and a  

print version for $8. How's that for a bargain! These are my affiliate links and by clicking and making a purchase you are being gracious enough to send a little commission money my way.

But even though I was given a copy of this book by Teri Lynne to review, and though I get a small commission from any book sold from my blog, this review and my opinions are all my own. I wouldn't support a book I didn't believe in, and I surely wouldn't put it on my blog. So trust me when I say this is something I believe in!

Now leave me a comment to enter to win! The giveaway will end Friday, October 26 at 11:59 p.m.

 

Joining a Community Together

I mentioned in a past post I had been busy with our Women's Ministry Christmas party. That makes it sound like it was just our church, when in actuality it wasn't. This past Christmas marked the first (hopefully annual) community-wide women's Christmas event. I can't remember how many churches were represented (something like 15, maybe?), but it was a lot more than I expected.

Our local community arena miraculously had an opening on December 6th, and it was the perfect size. A sea of tables was set up where later six hundred women would gather for what our theme was: "One Night, One Church, One Jesus."

I'm sure some of these churches had never done a women's Christmas party, so even though we were the main ones who organized this year's, I hope in years to come I hope it's more of a collaborative effort. We did have a few churches decorating tables (the ones in the foreground of the picture above were done by a Missionary Baptist Church in our town...don't you LOVE the chairs?), so that took some of the burden off our ladies. Of course, you KNOW I decorated one. Or two. But NOT three. I didn't want to kill myself this year.
I wish I had been able to get a better picture of my tables with the candles lit, but I'm thankful for the ones I did get. I should say the ones that Kiddo got. He was my table photographer. He and Sound Man were also there for another reason:Waiters! We were politically correct and called the guys "servers," and that's exactly what they were. As the ladies were eating a delicious meal of chicken, asparagus, and scalloped potatoes, the men were scurrying around with tea and water glasses, among other dinner-related requests. Kiddo hung pretty closely to Sound Man for the first part of the evening, but as he got accustomed to what he was supposed to do, he got more independent. By the end of the night, he was carrying a huge tray full of desserts around like he had been at it his whole life. I was one proud Momma as I watched him from the stage.

I mention I was on stage because I was privileged to help lead this community of women in worship. As worship leaders, I always say we have the best seat in the house! Watching and hearing six hundred women lift their voices in worship...simply amazing.

My favorite part of any Christmas-themed night is the candle lighting. Each lady was given a candle and holder, and as the women raised their flickering candles the room was bathed in the sweet, soft glow of candlelight. The sight always makes me cry.

Even though each candle was held aloft by one individual woman, together they all created enough light to brighten the room. It reminded me that even though we belong to individual churches, together we could bring the Light to our community if we work together. No matter our skin color, denomination, or church membership, we are all daughters of the King. We need to get over ourselves and our insecurities and our fears and band together to reach others for Him. Our women's ministry has organized a prayer night for the entire community of ladies to come and pray for our area. Someone also created a Facebook page for all of us to share what God is doing within our churches. It makes us feel more like a true community to know that God is working not just in our church, but in the others across our area.

If the world would see us all band together for one purpose, maybe they'd take Christianity more seriously...and take the message of Christ to heart.

What can you do in your community to bring churches together? Are you willing to work with someone of a different skin color? Of a different denomination?

Don't think I've got all this down...I don't. I'm never the first to volunteer outside my comfort zone. But the more we do, the more comfortable we'll become with the idea.

This year would be a good year for us to open our hearts and minds to see how God can use us.

My Husband, My Hero

Those of you who know me IRL (in real life, for those uninitiated ones) probably know that I'm sick of hunting season. Sick. Of. It. I'm tired of camouflage clothes. I'm tired of guns. I'm tired of all the stuff lying around my house that can't be put away because it's for the next hunting trip. And while I'm very grateful that Sound Man wants to put meat in my freezer, I'm so over hunting season. My husband knows this. He knows and is patient with me. I am not a hunter, nor will I ever be a hunter, so he is patient with my groanings and complainings. Not that he likes them, but he is patient with them, as vocal as I may be with them. And I am vocal.

He and Kiddo left this morning at 4:00 a.m. on the dot. In 11 degree cold, no less, for the last hunt of the season. After stopping by Wal-mart to pick up a portable heater, they headed down through North Mississippi to the happy hunting grounds. Their route takes them through Holly Springs, past Rust College. Except this morning their route was interrupted by smoke billowing from the roof of someone's home. Sound Man saw the smoke and knew that whoever was inside didn't know what was going on. In a split second decision, he pulled the truck over and told Kiddo to stay put.

He ran up to the front porch and beat on the door and windows to try to wake the family up. A woman came to the door and was able to get her family out of the house before the smoke got too bad. The attic was in flames by the time my husband realized the gas needed to be turned off, and in spite of the danger he faced going back into the house, he and a relative of the family ran back in to try to shut it off. He said they couldn't find it before they were overcome with smoke and had to come out.

The family got out safely. Chuckling, he told me that the woman told her mom on the phone, "I didn't know why in the world this white man was beatin' on my window!" The area around Rust College is a predominantly black neighborhood. Yet my husband didn't let the difference in his skin color stop him from helping someone. I realized when he told me what she said that, believe it or not, there are people in this world who would have kept on driving, simply because they knew that most likely someone with a different skin color lived in that house. Sickening.

I have been crying since I talked to my husband. I can't really pinpoint one reason why. I have so many emotions rolling around my heart right now. First, I'm so thankful for my godly husband who put his plans on hold to save someone he didn't know. What did that show my son? Oh, I'm crying so much harder now, because I just realized that in my son's eyes, his daddy grew about 6 feet. Sound Man has always been his hero, but so much more, now. I'm also crying at Kiddo's bravery. He was told to stay put in the truck, across the street from the house, until Dad came back. He watched the whole thing unfold. By himself. Now, as a nine-year old boy, he was plenty safe, but he has not ever been put in a situation like that that I can remember. He's an only child and has been kept pretty sheltered. But he did exactly like Dad said and stayed put, even though he was scared. He grew up a little sitting in the cab of that truck.

And the last reason I'm crying is this: what if my husband had listened to all the griping and whining I've been doing about hunting? What if he had acquiesced and hadn't gone this morning? Would someone have been driving by at just the right moment? Would anyone have seen the smoke before it was too late? God has divine appointments in our lives, no matter if we like the circumstances or not. I'm hoping I will take every opportunity to see things from this perspective from now on.

Sound Man is pretty shaken up, smells like an ashtray, and will be coughing a little today. And even though he's already out at the deer stand, he's still my Hero. And forever will be.

My Husband Rocks! Friday

How long has it been since I've done My Husband Rocks? Seems like forever! Well, Sound Man knows I love him, but it is time I get back into the swing of things.

This week Katy Lin challenged us (via Sarah Mae) to write a letter to our husbands telling them why you respect and love him. I loved this, because even though I tell my husband daily that I love him, I don't tell him nearly enough why I love him. So, that's what I did.

Now, I will have to say here that I cheated. I emailed him. Listen, if you've ever seen my handwriting you'd know it was for the best. Oh, I know, I know, it was the sentimental thing to do to write it down so he would have it in his hands. I will eventually do that, but I wanted him to read it tomorrow, and I didn't think I'd have time to write all of it by then.

Here's my challenge to you: even if you don't participate in MHR, you can still tell your husband why you respect him. If you've seen Fireproof you know how far that will go. He needs your affirmation. The world and our enemy does not want him to feel like he is a real man. They beat him down at every opportunity. It is our responsibility as wives to help build him back up. Notice I didn't say it was our responsibility to build him...we are to be his help-meet. The Father is the Builder. If you don't have a relationship with Him, I can't plead with you enough to turn to Him. Life is hard enough, but without the Hope we have in Christ, most marriages are doomed.

If you are not a Christ follower but would like to know Him or more about Him, please email me, I'd love to tell you about Him!

Wow. I didn't know that talking about my husband would lead me to talk about my Savior! But I'm all good with it! I hope you have a great weekend!

Seeing People

A couple of Sundays ago our pastor preached a message that made me cry. It wasn't a horrible, convicting sermon, just one that made me think, and if I think too much, I usually cry. Maybe I hurt my brain when I think too much.

He gave us this challenge...to see someone as a person that Jesus died for...

Even if the person is not very pretty, or doesn't wear today's style of hair or clothes. See those people as someone Jesus gave up His perfect home...perfect home...to come to this earth and be so brutalized He wasn't recognizable.

See the people who are "invisible" as people that Jesus came to die for. He came because he loved them so much He couldn't stand the thought of spending eternity without them. The people who are your checkout lady at Wal-mart who is having a bad day. Or the hundreds of people you never even see in traffic every day. Or the dude in the drive-thru with his pants hanging down to his knees. He died for them. He DIED for them.

Sometimes it's easy to see the "beautiful" people as lovable, or worthy of Jesus' love. Easy on the eyes, has a beautiful voice, whatever. Well, they must be worthy people, right? As pretty as they may be on the outside, their hearts may be just as full of junk and heartache as one of the "unlovable" ones. We need to see them as people He came to die for as well.

You know who else we need to change our mind's eye about? People who get on our nerves, make us mad, or even who have hurt us. Just because of this doesn't mean Jesus doesn't want them to come to Him. His forgiveness is a precious gift He longs to bestow everyone.

Can you see others like that? Can you see each person, no matter how beautiful or how unlovely, as something God exquisitely crafted? Now let me ask you this...can you see yourself like that?

Can you see yourself as the one that Jesus gave up perfection and angels' adoration to come to this sin-wrecked earth to be abused and killed? Can you see yourself as the one that He can't stand the thought of living eternity without? Can you see yourself as the one He wants to wrap His forgiveness around like a warm blanket on a cold night? Or, because most of us are sweltering right now, can you see yourself as the one He wants to refresh with His peace?

Can you see yourself as one who, like David, would say, "How precious are your thoughts about me, O God. They cannot be numbered! I can’t even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand! And when I wake up, you are still with me!" (Psalm 139:17-18)

Bro. Rick said on that Sunday that we all have a price tag. It's 3.16. I'll let you think about that one, and if you can't figure it out, please let me know and I'll fill you in. But doesn't that sound cheap? On the contrary...it's priceless.

Getting Ready for Oz

If you need to catch up on the first part of the story, here's the beginning.

Now that the selection process was over and I knew I'd be going to Australia for the summer, reality hit and I knew I had some major preparations to make before boarding the plane.

I had never been on a long-term mission project before. I had gone on many one or two week trips, so I wasn't completely green. However, going to a foreign country, even one as American friendly as Australia, required that I have some major training. The Leadership Training Conference that the Mississippi Baptist Student Union holds every year is designed to jump start our learning process. It really helped me by getting me out of my comfort zone; the missionaries prepared for a few days to actually host the conference for the rest of the students who were not going on missions but were still in leadership positions at school.

The long weekend culminated with a commissioning service for all of us (there were a ton of missionaries, but only a handful were going international) that was really special, asking us to wash the feet of those we serve. Not literally, like Jesus washed His disciples' feet, but figuratively serving out of love for the people we would meet. Here's a picture of six of the seven missionaries heading to Australia:

Hugh, Jill, Marty, Rowland, Heathahlee, Keith (and I don't know where Scott is...probably galavanting around somewhere)

(Would you look how long my hair is?) There were seven placements/job descriptions for Mississippi students, with the eighth position being filled by a sweet girl from Canada. Each team consisted of a guy and a girl, and each team had different job descriptions. My partner and I were the team heading to Sheffield, Tasmania for the puppet, drama, etc. work. The guy in front of me in the picture? He was my missions partner. Meaning we would be spending the summer in close proximity. Don't worry. The thought of getting really close couldn't have been farther from either of our minds. We were as different as night and day. (Would you please look how long my hair is? And how non-gray? Oh, to have 20-year old hair again.)

After LTC, we then had to head to Richmond, Virginia to the Missionary Learning Center for another long weekend where we gathered with dozens of other missionaries bound all over the world. The MLC is where missionaries on their way to other countries (as in to live for two years) are trained. The weekend was not a walk in the park. It was very intense and to say that I was a bit intimidated would be a gross understatement. Here is where reality set in. I would be leaving my country. Now, granted, Australia isn't the depths of the Amazon jungle or anything, but still.

At one point we (the 19 of us heading to Australia) had to come up with a play that would portray some of the difficulties we might face. We chose to act out witnessing to someone who doesn't really think he needs God. Thankfully, Marty (the redhead in the picture below) and I were just "campers along the billabong" and didn't have to say anything; we just had to sing "Waltzing Matilda" (or is it Mathilda?) until the play started while sitting around a fake campfire with fake marshmallows (do they even do that in Australia?) on fake sticks made out of pipe cleaners. I still have my fake pipe cleaner marshmallow/stick. See the orange stuff sticking up? Yeah, that's our fire. Pretty dang realistic, don't you think?

After filling our minds with all they possibly could, the International Mission Board gave us their blessing to head out into the world. I knew that was when it would get really tough...

to be continued...

Showing Jesus

A neighbor down the street lost a loved one this weekend. She ended up on my front porch yesterday morning in tears, just wanting to know if she could sit on my swing. She said her family was just getting on her nerves and needed some time alone. Of course I said yes, and was at a loss to know what else to do.

What do you do in situations like that? My cousin emailed me right after I had talked to my neighbor and I asked her the same question. I loved her response.

"... the best witness I've ever seen was just seeing a person whose life was driven by God. Not bible verses. Or "God has a reason for everything". Just kindness. Love. Strength. And an unwavering faith that makes you wonder, "What do THEY have?" So I suppose just using this opportunity to become friends and show them those things. :)"

So, my son and I headed to the grocery store. It was what I knew to do. I knew there was a need, so I did what I could to take care of it, hoping they would not just see a kind person, but that they would see Jesus's love through me. I got a bunch of sandwich stuff, plates, cups, napkins, a styrofoam cooler, and a huge bag of ice that promptly put a hole in the styrofoam cooler. We had some drinks that we didn't use for small group that I took down to her, too.

She and her family were very appreciative. Once the arrangements for the funeral have been made, I plan on organizing food and stuff from ladies from church. I know they will want to be involved in loving on this family.

But is this enough? Will they see Jesus in our casseroles and covered dishes? I just have to pray that He will open the door later for discussion with her. And pray that I have the willing heart to be open to having a "lost" friend. My comfort zone is exactly that. Comfortable. I don't like being uncomfortable, but then, I don't guess this life we live in Christ is supposed to ever get comfortable, is it?