I don’t know about you but back to school supply shopping is one of my favorite things to do. I’ve been out of school for several years and I still get giddy with excitement for new pens, notebooks, paperclips, folders, you name it. The brighter the colors the better.





Don’t act like you didn’t have these. I mean: you made it when you rolled out the Lisa Frank. AND the Trapper Keeper. *sigh* I’m so Uncle Rico. I really peaked in the 90’s with my colorful stuff. I like to think I was just ahead of the times now that my closet looks something like those pencil packs. I’m a walking Rainbow Bright some most days. 

Anywho, I can’t get enough of the Office Supply aisle. I have no less than a trillion and nine notebooks for home school work, Bible study, journaling, “just because”-ing, and “oh that’s cute, surely something important will happen and I’ll need to write it down in this book”-ing.

My name is Elizabeth and I hoard notebooks. 

My intentions are always great. I want to look back on prayers that God has answered that I wrote down months earlier. I  want to have brilliant answers in my small groups at church. I want to have penmanship that doesn’t resemble that of my toddler. In theory, if I could write legibly and be consistent at what I start things would be smooth sailing and we wouldn’t have a small fortune in lined paper with glittery/chevron/polka dot covers. 

These great intentions always start with a great heart. The early mornings with coffee when the house is quiet is so calming. The revelations poured out from the Lord when I am still and let Him be enough are incredible. 

Unfortunately I lack discipline. This particular struggle manifests itself in many areas of my life namely poor food choices, inconsistent exercise, and dusting my furniture. To chalk up this aspect of my life as something that’s just “who I am” doesn’t do me or anyone around me any good. You can get away with poor habits for only so long before their consequences begin to weigh you down. The number on the scale goes up, your clothes fit poorly, your home becomes unsanitary, things just aren’t as they could be.

This has weighed heavily on me for awhile. The notebooks sit half-filled, the pens dry up, and the index cards get strewn about. The evidence of incomplete tasks is undeniable. Why is it we start out with such gusto only to fizzle out and retreat to old, comfortable habits? Not old and comfortable like baggy sweatpants and a pint of Ben and Jerrys, but gross and detrimental. It’s as if chasing after the next thing will finally bring us joy. As if all the joy we need to sustain us isn’t found in God above. How easy it is to forget this. The pleasure of a Pumpkin Spice Latte or a back massage is certainly appealing. And awesome. Heck, it even brings joy, but eventually the Starbucks cup is empty and the masseuse’s (read: husband’s) hands get tired. It all ends. 

My commitment to things being different starts with choosing several times a day to make the right decision. To be disciplined enough to read the Bible before I work, parent my children, love my husband well, offer advice to a girlfriend is something I crave. I’m overwhelmed with excitement to see what God has in store for me and my family. Perhaps tomorrow everything will be taken from me. Perhaps a blessing I couldn’t even dream of is on it’s way. Regardless of what God decides to do with my life I can’t fully praise Him without being diligent in my pursuit of Him.

The Bible is often so…difficult…to desire. I’d be hard pressed sometimes to walk away from a long Pinterest-browsing session feeling the same way I do after reading a seemingly endless geneology of Shem, Ham, and Japheth. Just keepin’ it real, folks. I really like recipes and fashion. I don’t exactly feel as strongly about bloodlines. 

I’m not committing to change the world one blog post at a time. I am committed, however, to fixing the bad habit of inconsistency. If I’m a woman strongly convicted that she needs to be one full of integrity whose word means something then the days of letting other areas be fluid and haphazard have to come to an end.

I’ll probably do a little more damage on the Back to School sale at Target and let Kerrigan help me put the goodies away in just the right spot. I may even share (who am I kidding? I’m not sharing.) I’ll hit snooze a few times on my alarm and be a little angry that morning came so soon. But these lines are getting filled. Filled with observations, awe, answered prayers, anger at the world around me, and intimate thoughts between my Father and me. There will be days, even in succession, that I fail. There’s grace to be given and an understanding that there’s nothing perfect about this journey. I’ll relish this sweet season and be thankful for scribbled in pages that are filled Truth to sustain me when things are not as bright as Lisa Frank. 



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