Hi, my name is Becky. You may or may not recall that I am a blogger.
I also write.
Just not lately.
It's not that I'm in a dry spell, per se. It's just that I made this rule for the year that I wasn't going to blog about anything I hadn't finished.
You can see how much I'm getting done.
But I have finished some things. I finished the first book on Pottermore. That's, you know, sayin' somethin'. Not sure exactly what it's sayin', but it's sayin' somethin'.
I finished eating popcorn as a bedtime snack last night, which has propelled me into what I call The Popcorn Syndrome. That's where my blood sugar dips in the middle of the night, and I wake up and blog in the predawn light.
I've almost finished rearranging the living room. And by "I've" I mean "Jeff and I've." The furniture is all in new spots, there is new-to-us carpet, there is carpet pad now, wonder of wonders, and there are places in the room where I can see an entire patch of wall from ceiling to floor. But I can't blog about that yet because I still need to reshelve the books, reorganize the picture albums and my music library, and create a viable paperwork station before the project will be finished.
I've almost finished our new quilt, which is going to be my next post in the Grace Wedding series onaccounta my cursed psychological need to blog about events in chronological order. In fact, we've been sleeping under the quilt since February 14. But I can't blog about it yet because I still need to sew a lot of little white flowers all over it before it will be finished.
We finished our first month of once-a-month cooking, thanks to Jeana and onceamonthmom.com. But talking about food and cooking makes me instantly bored, so I don't really feel like blogging about it. I can say it has been amazing to have very yummy, worry-free, GF/CF/EF dinner every evening without having to daily reinvent the wheel to accommodate my food allergies.
We've nearly finished selling the puppies. There's one little guy left, and we think he will be picked up today, but we can't be sure until we actually see him get into the buyer's car and ride away. I say this because my first time selling puppies has taught me one universal truth: buyers are liars. And that's all I'm going to say about that.
But that's certainly not the only lesson I've learned from the puppies. I've learned happy stuff. Good stuff. God stuff. But I can't blog about it yet because we haven't quite finished selling the puppies.
We've almost finished going to Disneyland with some of our puppy money. But not quite. We are doing that tomorrow.
I've almost finished eating all the chocolate squares in the bag on the end table next to my chair.
I've almost finished spreading all of my portion of my dad's ashes. I still have one tiny bit.
I've almost finished being 35. Three more days to go.
I've almost finished reading Boundaries.
I've almost finished my third time through the Mitford series.
There's a lot that I've almost finished. There's a lot that I have left to do. But it's all good. God is teaching me about sanctification.
You see, the Christian culture in which I grew up preached salvation by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone. But they barely preached anything at all about sanctification, and when they did, they preached sanctification by works alone, through me alone, by my own bootstraps alone.
They wouldn't say that's what they preached, but it is what they preached.
The truth is that sanctification, just like salvation, is by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone. He has taken me from the miry clay. He has set my feet upon a rock. He has made my footsteps firm. He has put a new song of praise to God in my mouth (Ps 40:2-3). Not me. He.
It doesn't really matter what I've finished or haven't finished. None of my finished tasks are notches in my belt, and none of my unfinished tasks are marks against me. It is all grace to me because of what has been finished: the work of Christ on the cross (John 19:30).
Speaking of finishing, I'll finish with Scotty Smith's tweet from last night that brought me comfort (but didn't put me back to sleep) when I encountered The Popcorn Syndrome at 4am.
"Sins forgiven, righteousness imputed, judgment exhausted, Spirit sealed, death defeated, heaven secured... sleep well."