Typical Tuesdays...

It's a classic-jazz sort of Tuesday...

and a give-the-baby-his-bath sort of Tuesday...

Got to have the blackmail pictures...


Have you ever seen a baby with his own spa-tub??



...and proud of it.




giving his Mimi "the look"...


...and it will be a get-in-the-Anatomy/Physiology-lessons, spaghetti dinner, clean-the-laundry-room sort of Tuesday. A watch the birds at the back feeders, sip on diet Coke, go to my son's basketball game tonight, reflect-on-my-blessings sort of Tuesday.


He's been smiling at me. Yeah. Babygrandson has been smiling at his Mimi.


Bliss.





Underlined Bits


The following is an excerpt from the book Spiritual Rhythm, Being With Jesus Every Season of Your Soul, by Mark Buchanan...a book recommended by Ann Voskamp, and after reading it, I'm on my second reading....I highly recommend this book. It put many of my own recent heart experiences into words for me - it resonated deeply, and gave form and substance to what before were only the thoughts in my mind...this is the gift all good writers give to the world!

"Often our pursuits are trivial. They might masquerade as great dreams, but it's by their fruit that you know them. We gain things that perish only to lose things meant to endure, things we were to guard with all our hearts:


we get a big house, but estranged children; we win the applause of strangers, but lose our friends; we acquire wealth and status, but grow cold toward God; we acquire much and spend much, but give little and - really - get little. The Bible tells us to seek the Lord. It tells us to seek peace and pursue it. It tells us to seek the kingdom of God and His righteousness.


We can know all this, and even do it, but lose our way along the way and end up chasing things we'll never catch, or if we do, wish we hadn't."

Quick, Easy, Feeds a Crowd...

This is a go-to recipe, here at the cottage. I am sure it, or something like it, is out there somewhere, in some official form, as a recipe. But this one, I made up myself. It is a perennial Atchley favorite, and couldn't be easier.

First, gather your ingredients, and take a picture of them, because you are a goober-blogger-geek:

2 or 3 large green peppers (I used 3); some red onion; a whole box of penne pasta; a sliced kielbasa; olive oil; a cup, give or take 2 or 3 cups, of Parmesan cheese (in other words, as much or as little as you want); and don't forget a bit of coarse salt and fresh cracked pepper. No table salt, please, because I am a salt snob. And a pepper snob. And a purse snob, but that's another post for another day. I buy most all my purses at Goodwill, and the only rule is that they had to have retailed for over $200 at one time.

gotta have the real deal...it's all in the parm...oh no. I am a parmesan snob, too! (Not really. I use the already grated, in the bag stuff, when I absolutely have to.)



make sure your cutting board is at least ten years old, a gift from your oldest son, and that it shows lots of "love". Because I am a cutting board snob. If there is no patina, there is no dinner.



Put your penne pasta on to boil. Cook it up according to package directions. While that is cooking away, heat up some olive oil, in your cast iron skillet. Cast iron is best, big and heavy, because I am a skillet snob. Get the oil screamin' hot, but not smokin'...

(see the pasta boiling? I wish to the moon that was a copper stock pot you see there, because I am such a copper pot snob. All my pots except my big stock pot, are copper. Alas, 6 or 8 quart copper stock pots don't come easily, because they are not found at thrift stores)

Toss in your green peppers and onion, and stir around for a minute or two. Find your newest, turquoiseyest utensil, because I am a utensil snob.




...some fresh ground pepper...



Toss in the kielbasa, and stir some more...careful now! Cast iron gets hottttt...keep it movin', girls, keep it movin'...



Toss in your cooked penne, your Parmesan, add another splash of olive oil, and break out the plates. Your tongue is going to beat your face to death trying to get to this. It is that good.

Word for 2011


Finally, I've composed my thoughts. There's been a word rolling around in my spirit in the latter part of 2010, and I knew it would be my word for the following year. It would be the word that would characterize my hours and my days. I didn't choose it, I believe "it" chose me.

The word?

Sow.


Sow - [soh],verb

1. to scatter (seed) over land, earth, etc., for future growth; plant.
2. to plant seed for: to sow a crop.
3. to scatter seed over (land, earth, etc.) for the purpose of growth.
4. to implant, introduce, or promulgate; seek to propagate or extend; disseminate
5. to strew or sprinkle with anything.

–verb (used without object)
6. to sow seed, as for the production of a crop.

Legalism is the counterfeit to spiritual sowing. God cannot and will not bless the works of my flesh. He cannot be pleased with any works of righteousness I could ever do. But when I sow, believing in a righteousness outside myself, I will reap some 30, some 60, and some 100 fold. You see, grace provides seed for the sower. My seed is a gift. I didn't earn a single seed. The ability to sow is a gift.

But I have to sow.

I will sow, in 2011, with intention. I will sow in several specific areas, and into a few specific people. I will sow in faith in the finished work of Christ.

I heard it said recently that where I am today, good or bad, is a result of decisions I made 20 years ago; and where I will be 20 years from now will be because of the choices I make today. Sowing. Reaping.

That being the case, I am excited about my next 20 years, because the revelation of the grace of God is so very strong on my life right now, in a way it wasn't 20 years ago.

Right now, were I to sow with what I myself am able to accomplish ("sow to the flesh") I will reap corruption in 20 years. But if I sow to the Spirit ("Not by might, not by power, but by my Spirit says the Lord"), I reap life...pressed down, shaken together, and running over.

You reap what you sow, more than you sowed, later than you sowed it. All sowing is an investment into the future. It is never God's will that I build and someone else inhabit. It is never God's best that I plant, and someone else eat. I want to sow into relationships, into my health, into the Kingdom, and also be there when the seeds sprout, and then throw a party when one seed becomes a hundred pieces of fruit, and each one of those pieces of fruit contains yet a hundred more seeds!

Call me foolish, but I am absolutely convinced that I will reap a blessing that is all out of proportion to every single seed I sow in 2011. I shall not sow sparingly.

Our friend Joe Ewen said that adversity is a precursor to opportunity, and persecution is the herald of the hundred-fold return.

Thank you, persecutors! Seriously. I mean sur-russly. Thank you, thank you. Bless you! Come by my house anytime in the coming year, so that I can share the bounty with you - because it is by your hand and your mouth that I have been so unfairly advantaged! When the spirit of glory and of God rests upon you, life becomes enchanting and incredible.

Since that be the case, I best get to sowing, because every single thing I plant is going to produce a massive bumper-crop, to the glory of God.

My Boyfriend...

My man...a picture I snapped with my phone, while we were having dinner, after strolling the riverfront in Savannah.


Cute, or what?


This man can calm me down and fire me up. Rein me in and set me loose. He can make me happy as a clam and mad as hokey pokey, and it is all just a day at the office for him. I love...and I do mean love...his passion for the gospel, preached carefully, passionately, and properly.


And in a day and time that seems to be dominated by sissies...by men who hide behind sarcasm and live under the law (the law is for sissies...only real men live by grace through faith) untaught Christian men, yoking everyone they know under heavy burdens, not lifting a finger themselves to help bear them...


...amongst self aware, religious men, cold and dead, my man glows like a happy hearth-fire. His courage to preach a New Testament, Pauline gospel is the thing I love the most about him.


Well...and those eyes. And those hands. And the way he plays the guitar, and the way he plays the drums, and the way he can fix cars...


...and the way he can soothe crying grandbabies. Now that's hot - holla!


No, it isn't our anniversary. Or his birthday. Or anything in particular. I just think he's a home-girl's best thang. My boo.


And he will read this, and look at me very...very...quizzically.

Road Trip - Savannah

A bit of lunch...


An over 110-year-old building...and cute traveling companion, who lets me eat where-evertheheck I want...


Celebrating my roots (both Scottish and Presbyterian...)


Celebrating a good, good day in Savannah.

I love the perspective a road trip gives me. There is a certain lightness to facing life with only one very small suitcase and a GPS. We are letting serendipity rule, going where we want, when we want, the way we want.

This is how we roll. No agendas, no schedule to keep, no one to feel like we have to please...just me n' my boo.

Today, we strolled Forsythe Park, visited a Revolutionary war cemetary, saw the statue of John Wesley - my favorite Arminian, Godblesshim. We navigated the cobbled street on the river, where I ate some good ol' Low Country Shrimp N' Grits.

I have more pictures for you, but this lousy internet service at our suite doesn't have the "umph" to download any more pictures...I've tried for the whole first half of the Stanford/Virginia Tech game, to no avail. I'll try again tomorrow, when the destination is...

Charleston, South Carolina!

Sabbath Rest

Take heed to yourselves, and bear no burden on the Sabbath day...(Jer. 17)

this sounds suspiciously like a passage in Hebrews:

For he who has entered His rest has himself also ceased from his works as God did from His. Let us therefore be diligent to enter that rest...(Heb. 4)

The Sabbath was spoken of as a perpetual covenant. How is it perpetual? Christ is the substance of the Sabbath shadow, and in Him we have a perpetual covenant of rest.

You cannot know rest without the grace and peace that comes to you through the gospel. Paul's words "Grace and Peace to you" were no mere greeting. He knew that grace and peace were prerequisites to rest. You will never have rest, so long as you are burdened by your own insufficiency...or the insufficiency of others.

Without grace and peace, you will always be burdened by someones insufficient ability, insufficient finances, insufficient education, insufficient experience, insufficient humility, insufficient wisdom, insufficient performance.

Isn't that the essence of all burdens? We grow anxious or angry or addled or agitated when we ourselves, or someone else, does not meet an expected standard. When we fall short, through ignorance, willfulness, or inadequacy, there is immediately created a sense of burden.

I can almost promise you that burden-bearing has become second nature to you. You have likely developed a sophisticated, even unconscious network of mechanisms to compensate, carry, and continue beneath a variety of burdens. You likely are living as though some form of burden bearing constitutes normal life.

I can definitely promise you that a burden free life is what God means to be second nature to you. We are commanded to bear no burdens whatsoever on the Sabbath...

...and Jesus is our Sabbath.

Without the "grace and peace" found in the gospel, we operate in a mode of either drawing confidence from ours and others' performance, or we operate in a mode of ever-so-slightly eroded confidence, based on the under-performance of ourselves or others. The more disciplined and accomplished we are, the more confidence we feel.

The more disciplined and accomplished someone else is, the more confidence we feel in them.

The only problem is that, like Paul said, everything we once thought of as asset, is now considered liability. The new sufficiency is Christ's all sufficiency. The new ability is Christ's ability. The new work is to rest.

And if you think resting in the finished work of Christ is easy, then tell me, if you will, why legalists can't do it? I'll tell you why - because it takes doing the real work of God, which is believing on Jesus, whom God hath sent. All other kinds of work comes easy as falling, and fall we always do.

The hard work is found in laying every. single. burden. down.

Every moment.

Every day.

Today.

Today is your Sabbath, friend. Today is the time to cease from your own efforts.

I defy you to obey God's Sabbath imperative without a deeper understanding of grace than what you now have. Living by the law is way easier. It is far-and-away easier to live life trying to please God. It is exponentially more difficult to lay burdens down, submit to the gift of righteousness, and put no confidence in the flesh.

We think bearing burdens justifies our own existence. The cooler the burden a man bears, the cooler the man. And some burdens are just plain cool...admit it. Who do you know, who complains about the burden of being in a higher tax bracket, the burden of a successful career, the burden of an estate, the burden of keeping his pool properly maintained?

In our culture, those burdens mean that you are a rock-star.

Well, it is equally cool to bear the burden of fasting, prayer, and early rising. In fact, we can't help but let it slip in "casual conversation", if we regularly bear those burdens. When we fall short in the area of Christian perfection, it feels so...so...so holy to angst about our imperfections, and go immediately to work on them. Cool packs on our back, they are. Tokens of our ability to out-perform.

In kingdom culture, success is measured by how little you bear, not how much. The Sabbath is a perpetual covenant, and we still have our part of it to remember and keep.

"Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy."

Do. No. Work. Bear. No. Burdens.

The burden has already been borne. Sins and sorrows were carried by Christ to the cross. The work has already been done. Christ said, "It is finished." All that remains is rest.

There yet remains a rest for you. Work very hard to enter into it.

Funny - the holiest believers I know are the ones who don't work at being holy. So untorque yourself, friend. Rest may not be cool, but it is necessary to your sanctification.

Random Firing of Neurons on New Year's Eve

It's a good think I can rock the sweatpants, because Mr. Baby (grandson) makes me not wanna get actually dressed. It is way too fun to loll about in sweatpants all day, with him laying on his back in my lap, and me talking "wotsa wotsa wittle baby talk to my cutie patootie Mr. Baby."

(Actually, I only hold him a little bit each day, I promise. I let his momma do the holdin'. But I do loll about in my sweatpants and speak in strange tongues...)



Yeah. He's kind of a big deal, and the "current family favorite".


But far be it from this Armchair Philosopher to let a single New Year's Eve go by without some ponderings. 2010 has been, by miles, the best year of my life.




2010 has been, by miles, the worst year of my life.


When you put those two extremes in the balances, and sit back and watch the scales do their thing, here is the result:


2010 has been the BEST YEAR EVER, BABY!!!!! There just ain't no if's and's or but's.



I will not take delight in ("glory in") my stuff. I will not take delight in my health and strength - gifts of sheer grace. I will not take delight in my education (oh, the books - big 'uns - I've read this year! Oh, the Scripture my soul has absorbed. Oh, the things I have learned to do and the concepts I've begun to understand, that I never knew as much about before!)
Yet, it all pales in comparison to Jesus.
I truly have to take delight in understanding and knowing God, whose plan for humanity was the grace and truth that came through Jesus Christ, and this plan was in place before the foundation of the world. The gospel is an everlasting gospel, did you know that? The good news will still be good news when we see Jesus face to face. "T'will be my theme in glory!"
The grace of God, this lavish good news, this epic Plan God made, will be the boast and the glory of heaven, for all eternity. Read your Book of Revelation. And to think...I am only beginning to know and understand it! What unmitigated delight.
A dear prophet friend of ours from across the pond called us yesterday. He said that God had given him a word for us, for 2011. The text was out of First Chronicles, chapter 17 ~

"Then King David went in and sat before the LORD; and he said: "Who am I, O LORD God? And
what is my house, that You have brought me this far? "And yet this was a small thing in Your sight, O God; and You have also spoken of Your servant’s house for a great while to come, and have regarded me according to the rank of a man of high degree, O LORD God.
What more can David say to You for the honor of Your servant? For You know Your servant. O LORD, for Your servant’s sake, and according to Your own heart, You have done all this greatness, in making known all these great things."

Our friend read that Scripture to Tim, and said, "The Lord says 2011 is The Year of Yet More."
"MORE."

This word brought tears to my eyes, because it witnesses, it coincides perfectly with what the Lord
said to me two weeks ago.

Two weeks ago, I was rejoicing before Him, for the Springtime of the Soul I find myself in. For lo, the winter is indeed past. Do you know what the Holy Spirit said to me? He said:
"All these things that are to you as Springtime, they are but your tulips on your kitchen windowsill in late February, compared to what is just around the corner. All this joy is the mere hint of what is to come, not the whole of it. There is yet more."

"MORE."

Friends, I thank God for the gifts of the Spirit. I say to you, find a church where these gifts are welcome. We are meant to find comfort and encouragement and direction by a "now word" from the Lord. Paul said that by the prophetic word, we are able to wage war.
Thank God that there are still prophetic gifts in the church, and prophets as part of the 5-fold Ascension Gifts. Our across-the-pond friend operates in the office of prophet - using his gift to edify pastors all over the world.

Lastly, (and if you have read this far, bless you!) I will soon be blogging from a sunny, undisclosed location by late tomorrow, or the next day. I say "undisclosed location" because I'm a rock star.
Fear me.

No, actually I say it that way because it's just fun to be cryptic. But we are taking a vacation, seeing some beautiful, historic towns and architecture, walking the beach, and I'll be rockin' the bermuda shorts instead of the sweat pants.

Thank you, thank you, from my heart's bottom, for becoming a follower of this blog this year, for sticking and for staying. I have made precious friends this year, who I have yet to meet - thinking particularly of Susan and Faith, among others...

I propose a toast, to 2011 - it will be OUR year of "MORE!"


Your New Year, In One Word


Words have such power. They literally define moments, days, and lives. I remember, not so long ago, when our oldest son was beginning his downward spiritual spiral, I reached a turning point. Let me explain.


We Atchleys are name callers...in our happy moments and in moments of angst, we name. It is how we celebrate and how we cope. Words are the tools of our trade, they are all we know. So we called our son "foolish" and a "player" and yes, even a "goober".


When I had reached one of my lowest points, and was muttering and name calling, the Holy Spirit said to me, "Rename him." Not "rename him" as in call him Bob instead of Josiah. But rename him as in calling things which be not as though they were.


I cannot begin to tell you how hard that was. You see, he had more than earned the names we'd called him. It had always been a relief and a release, of sorts, for me to call a Spade, a Spade. I am known for that. It feels honest and right and even courageous to tell it like it is.


Religious spirits are the hardest ones to discern in ourselves. Easy to discern in others, hard to see in ourselves. The God of all Grace has a ministry of renaming. Gideon was a "mighty man of valor". Abram became Abraham, Sarai became Sarah, Saul became Paul, and I too will be given a white stone with my new name on it, one day.


The God of all Grace leads us to tell it like it could be.


So, almost every time (I wish I could say "every time") when a name was on the tip of my tongue, when that son of mine tweaked me the hardest, between clenched teeth, I would sometimes literally groan out these words:


Wise! Pure in heart! Godly! My wise, Godly, pure in heart son.


The rest of my son's story is still waiting to be told, there may yet be some roller coaster rides before his story line levels out. Still - I can't wait to tell the rest of his story, because I am confident in the finished work of Christ. See, government rests on Immanuel's shoulders, not mine. I am free to be in happy relationship with my boy.


All because of grace. All because of saving, sanctifying, amazing naming grace.


I named the year 2010 "Create". And "create" I have. Big masterpieces, like the atmosphere and design of a wedding...and tiny works of art like baby booties, big projects like a kitchen remodel (Tim the Tool Man and I), and smaller projects like a dining room repaint. Last year was the first time that I prayerfully sought God, and then "named" a whole year. It was so effective and so incredible that I am certain I will do this the rest of my life.


Soon, I'll share with you my name for 2011. In the meantime, what will you name the coming year? How will you re-name the circumstances and people in your life that have hurt you, and deeply at that?


God is the God of the New Name.

To Mothers of Babies...


"Life is inherently wearying. Seasons are inherently unbalanced. The sooner we accept this, the less disappointed we'll be. We're better off to abandon the false hope that, with enough money or time, we'll arrive at some ideal state of existence, a place unscathed by burdens and pressures and disappointments and trials. That place is heaven, and no amount of
jerry-rigging the borders on this fallen earth will conjure it here.

The real order of business while earth-bound is to choose, in season and out, what to weary ourselves with, who to weary ourselves for. It's to decide what part of our lives will be lopsided. The direction of our tilt. If our lives are always skewed toward something, and out of kilter in some way, then let's make the most of it and skew them toward the light.

Like the season of raising young children...while Jesus' followers bicker over the credentials for kingdom greatness, Jesus has a little child stand among them. The Kingdom belongs to (them). They have ready access to the kingdom life. (They) live under the rule and reign of God, without hesitation, default, pretence, avoidance. Without even thinking about it.

Your primary job...is to receive the kingdom through (them), and to imitate them in living under God's rule and reign...

Such living calls for a glorious lopsidedness. It calls for choosing the right weariness."

(excerpt from the book Spiritual Rhythm: Being With Jesus in Every Season)

Now that I am finally a grandmommy, finally I am that "older woman", who through obedience to the seasons of my life, is qualified to teach younger women, I want to say something to the mommas...

Young mommy, you are wearying yourself on all the right things. As am I. I weary myself caring for people, too. And I remember when mine were babies. I promised myself I would never, ever forget, and I have kept that promise. Can I tell you? In Kingdom life, you will usually be weary, but if you are loving people (or babies) your weary tired will always be the good kind of tired.

Rest, beautiful mommy. Lay your head upon your pillow tonight, and gain strength to weary yourself again. God receives it as worship.

And if you know a young mommy of babies, please pass this link on to her. I pray it refreshes and encourages her spirit.

Was I Dreaming?

Was I dreaming yesterday afternoon...


...or did I really sit in a peaceful livingroom, just me by myself, rocking my grandson, on a White Christmas Day, watching snow fall, listening to Bing Crosby's "Adeste Fideles"?



...did I really wake up to this?




...and then this?


(little Timothy's "My First Christmas" hat and pj's, from yours truly...)


...did I actually hear that my oldest son has been promoted to Squad Leader?


...did my Main Squeeze really get me the one present I specifically asked for?

(A Fisher-Price Nativity Set) all my "babies" will play with this, every Christmas, at Mimi's house, forever and ever, Amen.


...and a necklace, with my grandson's birthstone, the back engraved with these words: "To The Most Beautiful Grandmother Ever"...was that me, or was I dreaming?


Did I really, really receive a big Jonathan Howe Original? Not a print...an original? Not a "little one"...a big one? Someone pinch me.







And did I really get all those emails and phone calls from friends, just to wish us "Merry Christmas"?
How many times on this blog have I said it? I am living a dream I do not deserve. After weathering the worst, vindication comes in the form of receiving His Best. He giveth more grace.

When the LORD brought back the captivity of Zion, We were like those who dream. Then our mouth was filled with laughter, And our tongue with singing. Then they said among the nations, "The LORD has done great things for them."

The LORD has done great things for us, And we are glad.
(Psalm 126)

God Rest Ye Merry!

(my front door - come on in!)

I've always wanted to greet people I care about in this way at Christmas time: "God rest ye merry, my friend."

For many years, I never understood that old carol, "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen". It originates all the way back to the middle ages, and was written in old English. In those days, "merry" didn't mean "happy" as it does now. In those days, "merry" meant "mighty". A great and powerful king was a "merry" king, and a great and terrible army was a "merry" army.


"Rest" didn't mean to put your feet up, nor did it mean that you took a nap. "Rest" meant, in old English, "to keep in a continual state of".


"God keep you in a continual state of might and strength, gentlemen, let nothing you dismay. Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas day, to save us all from satan's power when we had gone astray.

Oh, tidings of comfort and joy! Comfort and joy! Oh tidings of comfort and joy!"

This Christmas, I've been smitten over and over with the simple statement of a great heavenly host. There...filling the heavens...Jehovah Sabaoth, Lord of the Hosts, sent His great host to break centuries and centuries of silence between God and men. God could have commissioned them to say anything. These ministers of His, this great, innumerable host, are as flames of fire, carrying out His Word, down to the smallest detail. They've declared war before, down throughout human history - lots of times.

Would this be that sort of message?

God could have instructed His hosts to give only the facts: "Messiah is here."

He could have sent a message of judgement.

God dropped a bomb, to be sure. He dropped a bomb that would forever make that field in Bethlehem the greatest, most utterly meaningful, most famous "ground zero" of all time. But it was an explosion of joy.

The Grace Message was finally detonated.

A blast of mercy, engulfing the planet. Into the black of the night, into the darkness of our human spirit, came the bright light of Good News. It was tidings of comfort and joy. Jehovah Sabaoth utilized His great host, He sent the mightiest, "merriest" troops in the universe to tell us, "YEAY!" and to promptly throw a party amongst the stars, in full view of a few shepherds.

"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, Peace....Goodwill....to men."

Peace.

Goodwill.

Let it sink in. Let those two words be the good news they were meant to be. Your very own tidings of comfort and joy.

Merry Christmas, dear ones. God rest ye merry...

How 'Bout YOU Do It?

Interesting experience, I had today. Navigating the crowded parking lots of Knoxville, I pushed my brimming grocery cart to my car, unloaded its contents, and turned to push it all the way back to the area where carts are Supposed To Be. I was feeling a bit virtuous about it. Then, I happened to spy a lone cart. This cart had been left, in the middle of the parking lot, smack dab behind someone's car. For that car to get out of its parking space, the driver would have to move that grocery cart (left by some other rude stranger) out of the way.

I shook my head slightly, and I'm pretty sure I made one of those "tsk tsk" sounds. "People these days."

...and walked right by.

Immediately, I realized that I was just as guilty as the person who left their cart standing in a rude place. I went back, just three steps, and got that cart, put it together with mine, and pushed both to the store. I had almost violated the number one law of love...okay, maybe number two law of love, but it's way up there:

If you notice that a job needs doing, you are the one to do it.

To walk past it, shaking your head at the thought of the other person who was supposed to do that job, is to BE the other person who was supposed to do that job. You just became "them".

If you see it needs done...do it. Don't walk past it, and get irritated with the person who didn't do it, if you won't do it either. That would be hypocrisy at its most deceptive.

Later that day, in another store, for extra measure, just to buffet my body and just to please the Lord, I also picked up some stray trash in the women's bathrooms, and took a moment to straighten merchandise that was plundered. Nothing obsessive compulsive...just small actions to drive home to my own heart and mind the idea that the person who sees the job undone is the one in the best position to do the dang job already.

What Do You See?


"And he looked up and said, "I see men like trees, walking."
Mark 8:24

If you are still under the law, you see "men as trees walking". You've experienced the touch of Jesus, maybe even come to a saving knowlege, but you are not seeing clearly. Yet you might go years - alas, decades, thinking that you see just fine.

Then, one day, you hear the gospel preached by a pastor-teacher who is walking in a New Covenant understanding, and you realize that "seeing men as trees walking" isn't the same as seeing Jesus clearly and centrally. You have not been seeing the world as you could and should.

Does this offend you?

Let Jesus put His hands on you again, afresh. The moment you see the God of all grace, the moment your focus is on the finished work of Christ and not on your performance, you finally see everyone else clearly, and through the eyes of love. In fact, through the lens of the gospel of grace, as taught in all the New Testament, everything in all of Scripture becomes clear.

Season of Light


We're expecting a winter storm here in east Tennessee, and a White Christmas! There is a beautiful frost on the ground every morning, and all is cold and dark by 5 PM.


But! From here forward, all the way up to the summer solstice, the days will get longer and longer. Because of this, I truly view the Christmas season as being The Season of Light. I so love the Lord. Right smack dab "in the bleak midwinter", God plants the promise of light and life.


Winter never lasts forever.


Have yourselves a Merry Honking Christmas, my friends. I'm already praying about how I can be a blessing and encouragement to you in the year ahead. I want this little homey spot in the Blog World to be a place where you feel gladdened and strengthened and graced. I want this to be a place where you laugh. I want to get to know you.


Thank you for being here with me. Thank you for your feedback, via comments, private emails, and Facebook. I love that you find this blog a haven of sorts. We've seen and done a lot together this year, haven't we?


Grace and Peace...

I'm So Grateful to be Planted


Those who are planted in the house of the LORD Shall flourish in the courts of our God.They shall still bear fruit in old age; They shall be fresh and flourishing, To declare that the LORD is upright; He is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in Him!

I may not be "old", but I'm a grandmother now, and Biblically, that gives me a right to open my mouth and speak the word of the Lord. I'll never forget, shortly after Hannah discovered she was pregnant, the Holy Spirit spoke to me clearly and succinctly, and said, "You are now that older woman." (..."the older women should teach the younger women...")


Of course, I took that as a compliment. My self esteem is through the roof these days - because my concept of womanhood has, over a period of many years, been transformed to be more Biblical than ever. Becoming a grandparent has not diminished my sense of femininity or sensuality or joy or energy. If anything, life has gotten sweeter, and marriage more intimate and fulfilling - and believe me, it has always been good, if hard at times. So to be able to say that marriage is better and sweeter is saying something quite nice.


Physically, I feel as young as ever. I'm in great health. And I admit to the gift of good genes - my own mother does not at all show her age. Spiritually, there's a good bit of miles on the motor, as I've walked and talked with the God of all grace for 38 years now. I'm bearing fruit in my old(ish) age.


I'm flourishing, because I am planted. But I'm not just planted any-old-where. I'm planted in the local church. I've built a grace-bridge to the people I love in my local church...and it will never be burned by my hands. I can't be a blessing, or build a bridge to the church universal...I want to see you try to "bear the burdens" of the "church universal", or even the "church internet". I want to see you try to "imitate the faith of those over you" when you, in fact, answer to no one in particular; or when you, in fact, don't really know those who watch over your soul.


The long and the short of it is this: you really have to be planted in the church local, in order to flourish. I find it sad when people think they are flourishing outside the church local. All it is, is they have seen a measure of success, and they think that's all there is. When there is so, so much more.


But the "more" comes at a mighty price.


Nothing...nothing matures you like right relationships. Nothing separates the precious from the worthless like gut-honest communication by flawed people, with equally flawed people. Nothing defines spiritual leadership more than the insistence on relationship as priority over moralism, nothing tests leadership more than the defense of relationships in the context of Christian community. To walk in that sort of leadership, you have to have a theological and practical understanding of the God Who Is Community.


If you are not planted, get planted. If you have broken relationships, go back and repair them with the people who count...versus attempting to re-establish communication with people you perceive as being on the peripheral. (There's something creepy about that - everyone knows.) If you were offended by the choir director, then it is the choir director you need to be emailing or calling, not the lady who takes care of the nursery. Trust me, you may not pick and choose who you will or won't get in touch with, if your real heart is to make things right. You must get in touch with the very ones you disagreed with, and if you hurt or betrayed anyone, you must get in touch with the very ones you hurt and betrayed. No one else. Not before you make things right with the people you wronged, or who wronged you. Even if that means the preacher and/or his wife. You. Go. There. First.


In painfully practical terms, being planted is a blessing....get planted. It is the only way to flourish all the way into old age. And really...is there another way to age? What is the alternative? Otherwise, you slowly wither and petrify and become stale, jaded, stilted, petty and comical, alone and a loner, bored and boring.


Ain't no way to live.


And now, back to my crazy-flourishing life...God, how I thank you for your gifts and the grace of your gifts...


Home Sweet Home

I've not a lot of words today, because there really are no words to describe. Only those who have grandchildren can possibly know.

The grandson came home from the hospital shortly after noon today. When I heard they were on their way, I fairly floated through the house, switching on the lights on the trees (yes, plural), turning on the Christmas music, making sure the outdoor speakers were working, just so that the new little family would hear Christmas tunes as soon as they got out of their car and onto the front porch. I turned on the space heater in the nursery, tied the "It's a boy!" balloon to the mailbox, wrote "WELCOME HOME" on the front storm door with window paint, and wished I had a long length of red carpet to unroll, reaching from the front door, down the driveway. Alas...red carpet was the only thing I was missing.

I thank you for the grace you extend me, allowing me to share the moment with you!



Proud Papa Justin with his wittle man...




Wittle man in his wittle Pooh Bear hat...


But the mercy of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear Him, And His righteousness to children's children...
~Ps. 103:17

I Love Ya, Tomorrow, You're Only A Day Away!

Poppy and his namesake. This man of mine is thoroughly smitten. Utterly hopeless. He "got to" change Tidbit's poopy diaper today, and he texted me, just to brag. He is counting the minutes till Little Man and his parents get to come home. So am I.



Please bear with me for a short season, because I am Ga-Ga. My own mother warned me, but nothing could really prepare me for this love. I had to run several errands today (only one of which was to mail an important package to my soon-to-be-Marine. He is about to enter "The Crucible" stage of his training, and has to have hand-warmers, because of the danger of frostbite)...and those errands, coupled with last night's ice storm, kept me away from the hospital until about 5 PM. I was so not a happy camper.

As I stood in the Relentlessly Long Postal Line, the longing I felt to hold that grandson was a physical sensation in my chest.

And now I know exactly where my "Inner Man" is...my spirit-essence exists there, in the center of my body. I have physically felt my spirit rejoicing, these last two days since the birth of our Next Generation.

Not to diminish the awe and wonder of the human spirit, but your inner man rejoicing is much like a rumbling in the tummy. It is a flip-floppish activity that takes place just behind the stomach, coupled with a sense of weight...a solid heavy breathless joy unspeakable. It is a spin and a dance that the inner man does when it connects with the power and blessing of the grace of God.

I'm telling you that I could lay hands on the sick right now, and I'm thinking they'd be healed. There is such a sense of Presence, of God's manifest glory, in my inner being.

Our little Sugar Muffin is the physical manifestation of the spiritual reality of the grace of God...he represents Newness of Life. God is "all about" this stuff, I'm telling you the truth. Oh, how He loves you and me!

Double Blessing...




....across the "hundred acre wood" yesterday, our life-long friends were also having their baby boy...


...and so, forever, Ethan and Timothy will share the Bond of the Birthday Brotherhood. Who but God could have had such a creative, brilliant idea? We couldn't have planned anything more meaningful, or more fun, than this.


Both tidbits will be home for Christmas...both households bursting with joy unspeakable, full of glory.

Boasting in the Lord...

You know what??? This is what we Atchleys are all about. Others can have their "thing" that they are about. They can have the houses and lands, the sports cars, the "fancy creams and lotions", the livery and the livestock, their own private jet, or a castle in Spain. Give us the generations, give us people, give us relationships, and we feel like royalty.




Isn't he the most beautiful thing you ever saw??? The Lord hath been mindful of us, He hath blessed us. He hath blessed the house if Israel, He hath blessed the house of Aaron, the Lord hath blessed us small and great, the Lord hath increased us more and more, we and our children. We are the blessed of the Lord.



He's Here

doing some mobile blogging...it is almost ten p.m. and we are still at the hospital. little timothy paul was born at about five thirty this afternoon, weighing in at six pounds fourteen ounces, via c section. mommy and baby are doing fine. and he is absolutely breathtakingly perfect.

grandmommy here, yours truly, is a little frayed around the edges, but deliriously happy.

pictures soon, i promise.

and i love smart phones. love. them.

cannot believe i am blogging from the hospital.

thanks for the prayers...please also ask the father for a quick recovery...

Checklist Before Becoming a Grandmother

(above oil painting by Gaye Lynne LeGuire...)

I'm going about the house, today, preparing to be a grandmother. (Our daughter, her husband, and new baby will live with us, for now, while Justin completes his internship and his Master's degree...thus, after baby Timothy is born, they will come home from the hospital to this home.)


How does one prepare to be a grandmother? How...how...how...


I know what to do to prepare the house. I still have to clear out the fridge, sweep the floors, and make sure my little bag of power bars, knitting needles, yarn, and Diet Coke is packed - I'll be there for all of labor and delivery, per Hannah's request. At six o'clock in the morning, it will be the trip to the hospital.


I know how to prepare a home, but how do I prepare a heart? How do I prepare my heart for the birth of a Christmas baby..."my" Christmas grandchild? How do I get ready to step seamlessly into what I have heard is the sweetest role I will play in all of life?


How do I go about the mundane preparations for a time of glory?


Life really is all about maintenance. Even on the eve of weddings and births, even on the day after death, there must be clean clothes and warm meals and physical comfort given to the people I love. Such is the Life of Woman. Ask me how I know.


Somehow, my heart assimilates. Somehow, my mind is slowly wrapping itself around the fact that God is the God of the New Thing. And New overlaps Old, always. One must always be cleaning up around the edges, where Old and New have collided. One must always be ready to tend to the business of tidying up in the place of transition, while simultaneously airing out the chambers of the heart...letting the breeze of newness freshen old routines and mindsets.


I've heard it said that women wear lots of hats. Well, this particular "hat" has been waiting for me, in its box, since the moment I gave birth to this daughter of mine and her sister. I have not so much as tried it on, in all these years. But I've looked at it longingly.


Today I get the hat out. I admire its loveliness. Yes, this hat suits me more than all the others, I bet. I think I will look just fine in this hat.


Tomorrow, I put on the hat for the very first time.


For the rest of my life, I will wear that hat with obnoxious pride. (And dear reader, it is most certainly not red...)

It's Gonna Be A Christmas To Remember!










...because friends, we will be having ourselves a grandson, no matter what, on December 14th!

If Hannah and Justin do not go into labor before this Tuesday, she'll be induced at 6:30 in the morning, December 14th, with Timothy Paul to make his appearance however many hours after that.

Guess who else is having her baby, via C-section, on December 14th?

My dear friend, and member of our church (visit her over at Hope Springs), Wendy Cantrell! Two babies born into our church family, very, very likely on the same day. If the fruit of the womb is a reward, Harvest Church has been doing something really right. (We are expecting five total!)

God has crowned my year with His utter goodness. He has given me my heart's desire, and has not withheld the request of my lips. He has given me a grandson for Christmas. He has given me yet another son by marriage (Jonathan, the arteest) this year. He has returned our wanna-be prodigals to heart, hearth, and home. My oldest son is thriving as a Marine-recruit. He is near the top of his squad. The other recruits in his squad of 80, ask him for prayer, and bring him their spiritual questions. He even has earned a nickname there...

..."Chappie". Short for "Chaplain".

It is nothing but grace. You. Just. Cannot. Know.

And my youngest is slowly making a name for himself, playing basketball. He will graduate from our home school this year - the very last one. God, by grace alone, has given me the gift of finishing well. I am living a dream I do not deserve. I have not earned it.

On the way home from a brief shopping foray, again, all alone in my car, I heard the old Christmas song by Amy Grant, "It's Gonna Be a Christmas To Remember."

Do you fight back the happiest tears of your life, or do you let them go?

Yeah...you let them go.

Word Junkie




A particular poet said that the most beautiful words in the English language are "summer afternoon".

Personally, I think him quaint, but I disagree. The most beautiful words in the English language are "You can go to your Kindle and start reading."


Yeah. Your homey is a junkie. She loves her reading material. Cannot. Get. Off. The. Junk.

I've been alternating this evening between my (free!) Kindle app, Audible.com, and my knitting. I have to hold my phone to read my Kindle books, but get to listen to my Audible.com books, through said phone, while I knit. Oh, bliss. Oh, heaven. And I didn't have to buy a Kindle. How cool is that? I am so fierce, I wish I could stare at myself.


Home Girl is all hopped up on an overdose of gorgeous words and ideas. I'm so high, I might never come down.