Life is full of questions and mysteries.

If any of these mysteries are plaguing you, here are some insights and tidbits of wisdom to offer you some help:

• Check your Bible for the meaning of life.
• Buy all black socks in only one style.
• Get the mega-quadruple rolls of t.p. and then consider a toilet paper alarm system.
• Instead of vacationing at the beach, go to the mountains where cellulite doesn’t matter.

Many of the mysteries of life are beyond explanation, such as how those fuzz balls get inside the lining of our jackets and why women always go to the ladies’ room in pairs. But we have been entrusted with the knowledge of the greatest mystery of all. Jesus said in Mark 4:11, “To you it has been given to know the mystery of the kingdom of God.” Jesus set up His kingdom in our hearts when He came and gave His life on the cross.

Mismatched socks, cellulite and fuzz balls are still a part of this mysterious fallen world. And personally, I’m still further baffled by the way my kids can’t hear me yell that it’s clean-up time, and yet they can hear me unwrap a Ding Dong from two blocks away.  But if we’re talking about the truly important issues in life, we don’t have to find ourselves baffled. (And it’s yet another mystery why it’s so tough for me to put Ding Dongs and other vital forms of chocolate in the category of those things that are less important.)

Ephesians 1:7-9 says:  “In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace which He made to abound toward us in all wisdom and prudence, having made known to us the mystery of His will, according to His good pleasure which He purposed in Himself.” He’s made known to us the mystery of His will! What a blessing that in a world of questions, we’ve been given some concrete answers in God’s Word about the things that really count.

Who put the grilled cheese sandwich in the VCR? That one will have to remain a mystery.

Are you happy with your body? Read about how you can have a healthy self-esteem and freeing yourself from a distorted body image.

I knew there was a problem when I realized that my control top pantyhose were completely out of control.

I have good intentions when it comes to exercise. Really I do. But something always seems to get in the way. The other day I almost made it to my exercise bike, but an interesting episode of “Matlock” came on. What could I do—it was MATLOCK! Then there was all-you-can-stomach day at the donut shop. I couldn’t miss that.

I decided I needed some accountability if I was going to discipline myself to do this exercise thing. So I signed up for an aerobics class. Right off the bat: stretching, straining, pulling, whining, moaning—you’ve never beheld such a struggle. Then after I got the leotard on, they still wanted me to exercise! Anyway, I started to wonder exactly how much sense this class was making when I realized I had taken the elevator to class, and then I got on the stair-stepper. I waited for twenty minutes for some lady to pull out of a parking spot so I could get myself within twenty paces of the front door, then got on the treadmill. What’s wrong with this picture?

There was some svelt little woman in spandex repeating how she just “loved to exercise,” talking about how invigorating it was and how she gets up at four every morning and runs her 10K before heading to the gym. I wanted to secretly switch her spandex wonder suit with one six sizes to small. You know, let her walk a mile in my Nikes!

The next day after that class, though, I felt refreshed and invigorated. Yeah right! I felt like I’d been hit by a mac truck. Muscles I never knew I had were screaming in rebellion. I was listening. I decided I must be exercise impaired. And I didn’t want anyone to try to fix it. So please don’t offer me a support group—unless you plan to serve donuts at the meetings.

However, I’m not giving up on what I like to call “soul aerobics.” There are exercises we can all do to increase our spiritual strength and endurance. God’s Word is our isometric connection and helps us build the spiritual muscle we need to keep going. Praying moment by moment is like continually pumping iron, building our spiritual strength. Plugging in to a church where we can worship, serve and fellowship gives us even better support and accountability than an aerobics class—and without the spandex.

These are the kind of exercises I just can’t laugh off. As for the bodily exercise, if I exercise my prerogative, isn’t that enough? I’m exercising my prerogative NOT to sweat that exercise routine.

Do you give your body both bodily and spiritual exercise? Read about overcoming your fitness obstacles and learn some ways to exercise your prayer life.

Don’t you hate it when your pantry is full of stuff, but you can’t seem to make it into a meal?

I couldn’t even see a microwaveable casserole coming together, so I ate the handful of chocolate chips for strength and moved from the pantry to the fridge. There were about the same number of possibilities in there. Dozens of containers but none I was willing to actually open. Through the clear-ish one I could make out some fuzzy purple ravioli. I didn’t remember ever having ravioli. That was scary. I poked at it, but I think that just made it angry, so I gently put it back.  Wasn’t there anything in there I could microwave for dinner?

You might have guessed that I support heavy use of the microwave oven. I realized I might have taken it too far the other day when we were getting ready for company and I actually had to DUST the stove. I thought about getting rid of my stove altogether, but a friend told me that I was deranged. (“De-ranged.”  Get it?)  Besides, it’s a great place to hide dirty dishes if company stops by unexpectedly.

The “What’s for dinner?” question remains a toughie for me. Even when my pantry is filled with wonderfully zappable cardboard boxes, I find it difficult to choose. I’m so glad that my Heavenly Father didn’t have to stare into the “pantry” of the world, trying to put together something redeemable. No, I picture Jesus Himself saying, “I’ll take that one,” as he plucked me out to make me into something special.

I’m not special because of anything that I can do, mind you. I’m special because the Lord chose me and because he lives in me. Ephesians 1:4 says, “Just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before Him.” Verse 10 says, “that he might bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, even Christ.” Gathering together.  Almost sounds like a casserole, doesn’t it? I’m so thankful that our all-powerful Father looked into his grand pantry and started his holy gathering “in Christ.”

That’s reason for celebration. I decided to celebrate by calling 1-800-PIZZA GUY. Still, you’re welcome to drop by for dinner sometime. If you stop by unexpectedly, please don’t look in the oven.

Need some healthy advice for your life? Learn seven simple steps to eat healthier and how you can protect your heart against heart disease.

My sister Gina mourned the day her youngest son was too big to fit into the grocery cart.

My four-year-old nephew makes shopping an adventure. On one trip, I watched Gina gather trail mix, coloring books, toys – enough equipment for an African safari. I noticed she had rope in the trunk. But I didn’t ask questions.  I was just relieved she stopped short of tranquilizer darts.

One of the most interesting things about Jake is that he has lived all four of his years with no self-imposed boundaries.  You know that sense that says, “Hey, this might not be a good idea?”  Jake doesn’t have that.  He lives unencumbered by bothersome restrictions – pushing the outer limits to the max.

At the store, for instance, he lost us on the produce aisle.  By the time we found him, there were six bites out of four apples and he was stuffing grapes in his mouth like it was nobody’s business.  I made a mental note: weigh Jake before shopping. Then they can weigh him on the way out of the store and pay by the pound.  I had to make another note later: this plan will not work if Jake swallows coins from under the deli counter.

You should’ve seen the cute, blonde tornado tossing mega-boxes of Ding Dongs into the cart (okay, I encouraged that one).  But then he poked little holes in the plastic wrap covering the hamburger.  By the time we managed to grab him, he had already punctured six two-pound packages.  (If you’re hungry for burgers, stop by my sister’s place.)

Next he found some balls in the toy section and starting chucking them in every direction.  He clipped one shopper in the ear and grazed another on the forehead.  He pulled a plastic bowl out of the cart, put it on his head and made a break for the pharmacy.  He was already stuffing the extra balls into the blood pressure cuff when we caught up.  By then I was ready to re-visit the tranquilizer dart issue.

It’s not that Jake isn’t actively learning about restrictions.  He’s lived most of this year in time-out. Then there’s that little paddle with a permanent Jake-bun print on it. Some of us learn boundaries the hard way.

We’ve all had trouble with boundaries from the beginning. God said to Adam in Genesis 2:16, “You are free to eat from any tree in the garden.” He gave perfect freedom.  But then he also gave the boundaries when he said, in essence, “but not that tree over there.”

There is sweet freedom inside the boundaries God has set up for us. But when we step outside of those boundaries, OUCH! Our Heavenly Father lovingly disciplines his children.  Most of us need a reminder now and then that it’s much more pleasant to live within his limits. His boundaries make life sweet.

By the way, I’m planning another visit to my sweet sister’s soon.  I’m bringing rope.

What do you think of God’s boundaries? Read about how to become energized in your faith or learn steps you can take to actively pursue God.

It happened around five years ago.

To top it all off, the day had been packed with one annoying little trauma after another.  The ATM ate my card with not so much as a recognition–not even a “Thank you, mamm.”  Just: “INSERT CARD” still blaring at me.  The air conditioner in the minivan was suddenly toast (and all of you who have come to know me and love me know that I don’t do that “sweat thing” with grace).  All the while, I was having visions–maybe something sort of related to flashbacks–of the past-my-eyeballs mountain of laundry waiting at home for me.  (My friend Liz and I like to call it “Mount Washmore.”)  It had been one of those three-spill dinners, and while there’s no use crying over spilled milk, three of them can just about bring anyone to tears.  I broke a nail, overspent the budget, and forgot to deliver some clothes to the local clothes closet (yet another delivery hanging over my head–somebody help me).

I was on the verge of shrieking an “Okay!  I surrender!” when Kaley, four years old at the time, interrupted my pity party with the deep thought of the hour:  “Mom, how come we gots TWO holes in our noses?”

A friend gave me the obvious answer later. He said that it was so we could still breathe out of one hole when we have a finger in the other. But since I’m not nearly that quick-thinking, I answered, “Because that’s the way God designed us. And we can always know that whatever He designs for us is just right.”

I really hate it when I’m trying to sound wise and motherly to my children and I get konked between the eyes with the jewel of wisdom that’s supposed to be for them.  Yet there it was–right in my face.  I knew the message was for me. I spoke a prayer of surrender and thanksgiving to The Awesome Designer around a throat-lump the size of New Jersey.

I’m supposing that “I surrender” was precisely the right cry.  As I surrendered in trust to His design for my life, all those little annoyances fell right into perspective.  And how those tiny annoyances paled into insignificance against the brightness of my countless blessings–5 of whom bounced happily in my toasty minivan, breathing through 10 perfectly designed nostrils.  Praise God for His design.

Do you find yourself lacking in patience? Read a quick guide to having more patience and reasons why laughter may be the best medicine.

Have you ever had one of those days when nothing gets done?

I feel your pain. But I have some encouragement for you in your unfinished business. First, we can rest in the knowledge that we won’t have these kinds of chores in heaven. Surely bathtub rings, red Kool-Aid carpet stains and assorted ring-around-the-collar situations all came with the curse of sin. Evil stuff. It’s not that I don’t think we’ll have jobs to do in Glory, it’s just that I’m sure heaven must be an ammonia-free zone. No scrubbing bubbles. No Tidy-Bowl man. No tears. No chemical-watery eyes.

I’ll encourage you, too, with the news that we can cope in the here and now with feeling that so much of what we do is left hanging (nothing to do with putting clothes away).

Do you know when we’re the most frustrated about not finishing or accomplishing anything? It’s when we’re struggling in our own strength to do the finishing, and we’re focusing on the wrong accomplishments. Everything that’s really important in life is already finished by the “Author and Finisher” of our faith. When we surrender and let the Finisher do the finishing, the Completer do the completing, we can kick off our shoes and stop sweating the never-ending bills, dust bunnies and laundry.

“Now may the God of peace…make you complete in every good work to do His will, working in you what is well-pleasing in His sight, through Jesus Christ” (Hebrews 13:20-21).

He is the Completer of every good work in us, and even more importantly, the Completer of our very hearts. “He who began a good work in you will complete it,” we’re told in Philippians. And “You are complete in Him” is the message of Colossians 2:10. When the Father completed His redemptive plan for us through the sacrificial death of His Son on the cross, the three words that rang across eternity were “IT IS FINISHED.”

So shrug away the muddy socks you found under the sofa – even if you did find a fish stick inside. Yes, even if you can’t remember the last time you had fish sticks. Rest in knowing that the Father has completed the works that make life worth living, and eternity is something to look toward with great joy and anticipation. Rejoice in knowing that no one can add the “finishing touch” the way our Father does.

As for this article – I’m finished!

Do you need some encouragement? Read about finding strength for your inner soul and how to trust God through all the seasons of life.

I was so excited when I found out our new house would have a mudroom.

I was disturbed that my mudroom was evidently confused as to its purpose. All that mud was supposed to stay only in the mudroom, right? Isn’t that how it got its name? So why was I finding sludge all over my new carpet?

As for growing the grass, I think childbirth was easier. As a matter of fact, at the first sign of baby grass, my husband did everything just short of passing out candy cigars. I have to admit, I was thrilled too. Not so much because I have any kind of decent concern about the grass. I was rejoicing because I had the promise of a mudroom at least semi-sludge-free.

My husband’s rejoicing was definitely different from mine. It was more of a Psalm 147:4-8 kind of rejoicing: “Sing to the LORD with thanksgiving; make music to our God on the harp. He covers the sky with clouds; he supplies the earth with rain and makes grass grow on the hills.” As you might imagine, the neighbors did gawk a bit as he played his harp to the Lord who makes the grass grow. That’s OK. We had to find a way to break in our new neighbors anyway.

Seeding, however, was not all there was to grass-growing. We seeded. Then reseeded. Then re-reseeded. We’re planning to re-re-reseed soon. I’m sure the birds will congregate at our place once again with their little bibs and trays. They’re thinking we’re setting out yet another birdie buffet. There goes the seed.

And since we’re talking about perishable seed, I have to mention that the Bible does, too. Spiritually speaking, there is a perishable seed and an imperishable seed. 1 Peter 1:23-25 says, “For you have been born again, not of perishable seed, but of imperishable, through the living and enduring word of God. For, ‘All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of the Lord stands forever.’”

God tells me in his Word that I’ve been born again from that imperishable kind of seed. It’s dependable – unlike that wimpy, withering grass seed that’s here today, bird-food tomorrow. His promise is living and enduring.

Not the lawn. Like the glory of man, I’m afraid it’s still pretty wimpy. That’s OK. I don’t have time to spend on it anyway – now that I have to regularly mow the mudroom.

Are you happy with your life? Learn how you can transform your life with thanksgiving and ways to meet the deep needs of your soul.

We had five babies in seven years.

There were around ten (count ‘em, TEN) straight years of diapers. There were also months when my husband couldn’t stand up in his pulpit without discovering (usually mid-sermon) that he was sporting some sort of crust, slime or other baby scum on his lapel. Interesting baby factoid: Neckties never recover from baby barf.

Getting ready for church was no small accomplishment. I always seemed to find a hole in the little ruffle-bottom tights and twelve shiny black shoes, but only two pairs. My husband was a big help – until he decided to add an 8:00a.m. service to the Sunday morning line-up. He says it was to extend the church’s ministry. That’s another thing I’ve wondered about those years. You don’t suppose he “extended his ministry” so he wouldn’t have to help me get all those kids ready, do you?

I moved alot of the readying to Saturday nights. In addition to the regular bath-time agenda, I added the clothes safari, some Saturday-night ironing and (this was a biggie) nail clipping. ONE HUNDRED LITTLE NAILS! No kidding – do the math. I still have nail flashbacks.

There were days I was too exhausted to appreciate the real wonder. Other days, I was overwhelmed by the blessing. So while I call some of them “flashbacks,” I call all of them cherished memories – because I cherish my children. Still, it’s all just a glimpse of our Father’s love for us.

1 John 3:1 says, “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!  And that is what we are!” We can’t imagine a love bigger than the love we have for our babies. Yet God uses that very love to teach us about His love for us.

If you’ve given your life to Christ, you are God’s precious child. Isn’t that a wonder?! Living in His love is glorious–and it never stains!

Are you feeling overwhelmed? Read about overcoming the need to be a supermom and how to find inner quietness in the midst of busyness.

“Is this your first baby?”

I’ve almost always been five feet tall. My babies were eight- and nine-pounders. You can do the math if you like, but let me just save you the trouble and tell you that I really did look like I was having a litter. I had baby busting out from my armpits to my knees. But when those wild pregnancy hormones kick in, the last thing a mom-to-be wants to hear is how she really looks (if she looks like I did). No wait, the last thing she wants to hear is how much weight she should’ve gained. My doctor told me I should gain about twenty pounds. I’m a goal-oriented person. I was very proud when I had reached my goal before I even reached my second trimester.

The Bible says that the fruit of the womb (not to be confused with any particular brand of underwear) is a reward. Maybe there are a few times we’ve been known to mutter through clinched teeth, “What did I ever do to deserve this…reward?”  Still, I’ve never known even one woman who didn’t find motherhood more rewarding than she ever imagined. I can’t imagine life without my five sweet rewards.

If you’re an expectant mom, let me encourage you with this thought: Pregnancy should be worn as a badge of honor. The Lord has a special reward for you. Hang onto your hat. It’s going to be a wondrous adventure.

And while you’re pregnant, try to ignore those well-meaning clowns with the goofy remarks – and fight the urge to deck those poor, clueless souls. They probably either don’t know or don’t remember what it’s like to go weeks at a time without seeing their feet. They don’t understand the frustration of crying uncontrollably over a McDonald’s commercial – not to mention the total inability to even say the word “Hallmark” or the title, “Little House On the Prairie.”  They can’t relate to bending over to pick up a sock and wondering if their eyeballs are going to pop out.  Humor them and understand that they are, yes, clueless.  Spend large amounts of time in the Word of God. You’ll find certain passages especially comforting, such as, “Come ye that LABOR and are HEAVY LADEN and I will give you rest.”

A word to those of us with a few pregnancies under our belts (notice the great play on words – I’m proud of that one). When we meet up with an expectant mom, we could certainly do well to season our speech with an extra measure of love, grace and understanding.

Let’s all remember to filter our conversation, keeping in mind that what the future mom hears may be swimming upstream against a mass of wild hormones.

Are you going to be a mom? Read about how to make the transition into motherhood and learn ways to make the most of being a mother through the seasons of your child’s life.

I’m a mega-list person.

I love what a list does for me. It helps me sort out all the “have to do’s” from the “wish I had time to do’s.” Sometimes I even try to convince myself that I don’t have to do the “have to do’s.” I figure it should be enough that I thought to write them down.

Still, one of my favorite things about lists is the satisfaction of the “check-off”. I love to make checkmarks. I even write down to-do’s that I’ve already to-done – just for the joy of checks. My list might start off something like, “1) Get up.” I’ve checked that one today. What a sense of accomplishment!

You may have guessed that I’m not a list person because I’m organized. “Get organized” is on every one of my lists. I’m a list person because I’m not organized by nature and because I forget everything I don’t write down. Now we’re back to embarrassing.

Sadly, a to-do list can get incredibly intense in a big hurry. My list for this week included:  get groceries, cut gum out of cat’s fur, pick up dry-cleaning, clean potato chips out of fish tank, buy birthday gift, salvage daughter’s favorite blouse from computer printer, schedule dentist appointments, buy new computer printer, plan nervous breakdown…you know, the usual. I’m kidding about that last one. I don’t have nearly enough time for a nervous breakdown.

I’ve decided I really don’t have to be embarrassed about my list-dependence. God is a list person too. He didn’t write to-do lists because he forgets. He wrote to-do lists because we forget. Many of His lists are sweet reminders. Some are stern warnings. All are vital for life.

One of my favorites is the “love list” in 1 Corinthians 13:4-8:  “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

Our Heavenly Father knows us well. He knows that we have a tendency to be selfish instead of loving. When have we ever had to write on our to-do lists, “snap at kids,” “lose patience with husband,” or “get short with store clerk?” My love can fail – but His? Never!

How glorious that despite my long list of failures, His love remains true. As a matter of fact, I can’t put anything on my list of failures that his love can’t cross right off the list. Not a check. A Cross.

I think I’ll put that on my list of sweet thoughts to ponder. Maybe that’ll help me persevere when I’m cutting gum out of the cat’s fur.

Are you good at organization or do you need some help? Read about ways you can organize your house by ridding it of unnecessary “stuff” and how to adopt a discipline of simplicity.