Thursday, September 27, 2012 Posted by Debbie Legg
Yes, I know you just heard from me a couple of weeks ago when I wrote A Letter To My 18 Year-old Self as a guest post for Julie’s blog. This is different. I need to tell you about an overarching theme in your life, an area God will work on, but you will…um…resist.
It’s about time management.
Stop rolling your eyes and let me finish. This isn’t about being lazy or watching too much tv. This is about control—and who has it.
You like to set your own schedule. You get snippy when anyone messes with your plans. God’s plans for your day (and life) are ALWAYS BETTER. DON’T fight it. Go with God’s flow.
There’s more. God not only wants control of your scheduled time, but also your unscheduled time—the time in your head, when you plot out every possible scenario so you know how to handle it when it happens (This includes all of those, “What I Should Have Said” conversations).
You imagine 1,000 ways a scene could play out, but it NEVER goes the way you think. God always goes with the 1001st way, the one you never imagined. DON’T WASTE YOUR TIME TRYING TO CONTROL WHAT ISN’T GOING TO HAPPEN.
Remember these things:
1. “God is always on time, rarely early.” He created time. His is perfect.
2. Do not worry about…what you will say, for the Holy Spirit will teach you at that time what you should say.” (Luke 12:11,12) Quit writing dialogue you’ll never use. Focus on listening and hearing.
3. Corrie Ten Boom said, “Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.” He’s already in tomorrow, preparing everything you need, to help you and not to harm you (Jeremiah 29:11).
Plan ahead and organize, but don’t stress, worry, manipulate or try to control. Let God control your time. He will do an amazing job. You will not be sorry.
PS—In a few years, when your friend Steve tempts you to try the El Grande Burrito with extra hot sauce, don’t do it. Trust me. It won’t be pretty.
Thursday, January 31, 2013 Posted by Debbie Legg
I know my boys love me. I KNOW they do.
There are times when I cease to be Mom. I’m no longer even Debbie. I become the Invisible Force.
You know the one. I am the coincidence that takes the car to the right place at the right time and brings them safely home again. The entity that provides three meals a day that magically appear on the kitchen table. The thing that makes sure they always have clean socks, allowance, electricity to run their various toys and gadgets.
It’s more than being taken for granted. It’s more than being taken advantage of. It’s that they sometimes exist in their own world and it doesn't include me, the real me, the mom who loves them more than anyone on this planet. Do they really believe that all of the gifts, all of the blessings, all the protection and care and provision and LOVE they are given only exist because they do, not because I do?
And then I wonder…
When is the last time I asked God how He is doing? What He is feeling? Thanked Him for everything from my house to my toothbrush, ALL provided by Him, because of His love, not mine?
How often do I go about my day oblivious to His protection from road hazards, diseases, complete financial ruin, the myriad horrors on the nightly news? When is the last time I noticed His love note in a flower, a smile, a dream fulfilled? When is the last time I invited God, the real God, into the intimate areas of my life, my heart?
God is not Fate, Destiny, Providence, Coincidence, the Source, the Force. He has a Name. He has a distinct personality, feelings, dreams for His creation that include us, that are specifically for us.
Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him. (1 Peter 1:8)
Father God, please open the eyes of my heart to see You, really SEE You, as You are.
Thursday, January 16, 2014 Posted by Debbie Legg
I wasn’t sure I had really done it, or even done it correctly. “Did I really give my whole heart to Jesus? Do I just think I did but I’m wrong? How can I know?”
No one knew about these doubts and questions except God and me.
I was attending a high school girls’ bible study with my friend who had lead me to Jesus a few months before, but this particular morning she wasn’t going. “They’re having someone come in and do prophecies. I don’t believe in that," she said. I decided to go anyway, if only out of curiosity.
The prophet’s name was Ruth. She wore her long white hair in a bun, and her little round glasses complemented her wrinkles. In her polyester skirt and blouse she really was the picture of the sweet little granny. I will never forget her soft voice and the fact that, though I was introduced to her as Debbie, she called me Debra, my given name.
We all took turns sitting in a wooden chair while she laid her hands on our shoulders. Then she would close her eyes and begin to speak.
“Thou art my vessel of cheer and service, Debra,” she began. I thought, “Hmmm. Cheer and service. Yeah, I can do that.” I also made a mental note that Jesus spoke King James English.
About half-way through her prophecy she said what my heart longed to hear but didn't know it would: “For you have loved me with your whole heart.” My whole heart leapt. Tears streamed down my face. It could only be Jesus speaking through Ruth. There is no other explanation.
That morning I let go of my doubts and fears and focused on cheer, service, and the “many small tasks you will do for Me, saith Jesus.” The blessing of that brief encounter has framed my entire Christian life. I am beyond grateful for the beacon of clarity it has been, and continues to be.
Thursday, October 03, 2013 Posted by Debbie Legg
Chicago Irish Catholic girl grows into Rural Christian woman.
Wife of a government tech guy suddenly becomes wife of a farmer (not to worry, they are the same guy).
Woman who somewhat enjoyed writing discovers it’s something she might actually do a little bit well.
Gal who can’t swim worth a lick takes to kayaking right off the dock.
Musically-challenged soccer mom transforms into drum-playing rocker mom.
My life is proof that God has His own plans...and a sense of humor.
It’s also proof that He never leaves or forsakes us.
He was there when I was 15 and newly moved to Northern Virginia. He made sure I met Dawn, so that she could introduce me to Him.
He was there when the tech guy and I stopped infertility treatments and gave up hope of having children. He was there through the severe depression that followed. He was there when our first miracle son was born, and nine years later at the appearance of miracle number two.
He was there three and a half years ago, forming Talk Your Legg Off Productions in my head and heart, re-igniting my interest in writing, directing my completely unexpected attempt at making a film (some would substitute unwise or unwarranted for unexpected). And He was there two and a half years ago, encouraging me through the mildly-terrifying proposition of writing for Daily Fast Fuel.
He was there on the camping trip in 2008 when a total stranger invited me to try out her kayak. He was the bravery that pushed me past my fears of failure and looking stupid to paddle and laugh and discover new passion.
He was there Christmas 2009, playing Lego Rock Band with our oldest son, when I sat down at the drum kit and it felt exactly like home.
He’s been there through every laugh, every tear, every sigh, every everything. He loves me. I love Him.
My life is proof that there is a God, and He is good.
Thursday, January 09, 2014 Posted by Debbie Legg
Debbie didn’t drink. Didn’t smoke. Didn’t chase boys. Didn’t cuss (much). Tried to be kind to others (except her siblings). Did a decent job obeying her parents. Was an A/B student. Debbie was what people considered to be a “good girl.”
Debbie doesn’t have a powerful testimony of ash heaps transforming into mountains of beauty. She had a good upbringing. She was solid. Reliable. Responsible. In fact, almost right after she surrendered her life to Jesus, telling Him she was sorry for all she’d done wrong, that she loved Him and wanted to be with Him in heaven, she added, “I don’t think You’ll have to change me too much. I’m pretty good really.”
In the heavens, grand and glorious laughter erupted. “Oh, My child…just wait. You’ll see.”
It was many years later that she finally got it through her thick skull that “good” doesn’t really cut it. “Kind of good” and “pretty good” and “really really good” are not points on a Ruler of Righteousness. A human being simply cannot be “good enough,” or even “better than so-and-so.”
What finally smacked her out of her prideful delusion was Romans 14:22-23, So whatever you believe about [eating “unclean” food] keep between yourself and God. Blessed is the one who does not condemn himself by what he approves. But whoever has doubts is condemned if they eat, because their eating is not from faith; and everything that does not come from faith is sin.
That definition of righteousness moved her “good point” waaaaaaaay down the scale. She realized that when self-protection, self-indulgence, self-reliance, and self-centeredness were in action, she was not acting in faith. She was acting in sin.
Sin itself took on a whole ‘nother realm of meaning for her that day.
She was buried in baptism and raised to eternal life when she was 16. She continues to learn and grow in dying to herself every day.
A Legg By Any Other NameThursday, July 17, 2014 Posted by Debbie Legg
I was 13 when Charles and I started dating. He was a great guy then, and still is.
The problem was his last name.
“If we got married my name would be Debbie Legg. [long pause] Nah, that’s not going to work.”
I know, right? You can literally hear the laughter from heaven. Picture with me The God of Angel Armies, one hand pointing toward me, the other one slapping His knee, saying, “BWAHAHAHAHAHA! Just you wait, My Child, just you wait.”
Seven years later I married Clinton Legg (no relation).
Charles and his fiancée, Valerie, decided the “coincidence” was fun enough to graciously invite us to their wedding. We spent the reception being introduced as The Leggs Who Were Not Related.
Of course, being me, I had to clarify and add, “That’s correct! We’re the right Leggs.”
Ya just can’t make this stuff up.
God has continued to use me as a source of laughter.
“Let’s make city girl Debbie a farmer’s wife!” (I have enough material to write a sitcom but they already made Green Acres)
“Let’s give her a second Miracle Baby! So what if she is 37?” (Covering the gray hair alone is gonna cost me a fortune)
“Debbie, I have the perfect name for your production company—Talk Your Legg Off.” (It doesn’t mean I always do, only that I can)
Stay tuned. Maybe His next adventure for me will be called Pulling Your Legg...
Thursday, July 31, 2014 Posted by Debbie Legg
On warm weather weekends (and some weekday lunchtimes) in Fairfield, Illinois, you can hardly throw a rock without hitting a porkburger sale.
The Rural Fire Department and FFA originally brought porkburger sales to Fairfield in the 1980s, but it was the local Food Park grocery store that started hosting them on a regular basis. If you need funding for a mission trip, are a non-profit, or need help with catastrophic medical expenses, this is a good deal.
I cannot begin to tally up all of the money and good will that has been raised in and for this community and beyond in the past 30 years, all by grilling a simple burger that’s made out of pork instead of beef. Add a bag of chips and a soda and you’ve got a complete meal.
Porkburger sales are even successful the weekend after a large event like the county fair. Folks just like to help folks who need it. “Keep the change” is a phrase you often hear. "Thank you" is a phrase you hear even more.
To me, this is what it’s all about. Government programs, even church-run programs, can be helpful, but nothing compares to the one-on-one, neighbor-helping-neighbor approach. And everyone’s got to eat, right? You give, you get, it’s all good.
And since every good and perfect gift is from above (James 1:17), I dare say that if Jesus were walking the earth today He might be one of the guys behind the grill. I bet He could feed the entire town, which interestingly enough, houses about 5,000 residents.
I wonder if He would also change water into soda?
Thursday, January 19, 2012 Posted by Debbie Legg
“Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.” (Neale Donald Walsch)
Boy, did I learn the truth of that statement last year.
In October 2010 I finished writing/producing/acting/directing/co-editing a small online film. (If you would like to know more, click HERE)
“Challenging” definitely describes the entire 19 month process. This project, completely God’s idea from first to last, grew me in more ways than I’m sure I realize even yet. In February 2009, when God birthed the idea for Talk Your Legg Off Productions, I imagined there would be frustration, growth, joy, sacrifice and patience involved. I grossly underestimated how MUCH of those I would experience. It was a step flying leap outside of my comfort zone on EVERY artistic level. I can’t tell you how many times, in anger and pain and frustration, I cried out to God, “FIND SOMEBODY ELSE! I GIVE UP!” Fortunately, though, He didn’t, and I didn’t. By His Grace we finished the film.
I will never be the same.
“Who Does He Think He Is?” was the jumping off point into a whole new level of life. I’m talking John 10:10 Abundant and Full Life here. But, it didn’t start until I actually stepped off the platform of my Comfort Zone and leapt gingerly descended into The Zone.
For me right now, Life in The Zone is a type of creative excitement. It’s a wild sense, as I am writing or creating, that I am in the very center of God’s will. His project, His vision, His goals and dreams become mine. We are together. I mean, I know He is always with me, but that’s not the same as being together. The whole new level of Life is a level of intimacy with God I didn’t have before.
I’ll give you fair warning: Once you’ve experienced Life in The Zone of greater intimacy with God, you will want more. I do. Don’t stay “safe” in your comfort zone. Take a deep breath, take the leap and land in The Zone. Accept the challenge of Life. You’ll never look back.
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Thursday, January 05, 2012 Posted by Debbie Legg
Before my junior year of high school my family moved from the Chicago area to the Washington DC suburb of Springfield, Virginia. I was starting a new school, in a new state. (I was not at all happy about any of it, but that’s another story.)
I set out trying to make new friends. The second girl I began to form a friendship with was Dawn. She was fun and funny and adventurous. She also had this friend she talked about sometimes, who was really awesome. His name was Jesus.
The entire concept of Jesus as personable had never occurred to me, despite the fact that I had attended church (and the church’s school) my whole life. I started asking questions, wanting to know more. Dawn didn’t have all the answers, but so much of what she did say just simply made sense to me.
Only, it wasn’t making sense in my head, it was making sense in my heart. What I was learning through Dawn, and eventually through youth group and church, was truth; a deeper, wider, longer and, well, TRUER truth. Truth beyond the level of my five senses, beyond knowledge, even beyond wisdom. And the more I learned, the more I wanted to know.
“I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever— the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you.” (John 14:16,17)
As this Spirit of Truth continued to teach me, revealing truth after truth, he continued to lead me to Jesus. “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:6).
One day in the spring I gave my life to Jesus, to the Spirit and to the Father, to this personable God, the creator and revealer of truth, who loved me and died for me and had a purpose for me. It’s been an amazing adventure so far; a deeper, wider, longer and truer adventure than I could ever have imagined.
From the Funeral of Kent HenryThursday, May 08, 2014 Posted by Debbie Legg
This morning a family very dear to us buried their son, brother, husband, father, uncle, and friend. Kent Henry was 49. He would have been 50 at the end of next month. He will be spending that birthday with his father, Owen, and with their Father.
The officiating minister, Darrel Brandon, echoed the sentiments we all shared--it’s not fair, and 49 years is not long enough.
But maybe, he said, maybe it is long enough.
It’s long enough to make a lot of friends. It’s long enough to make beautiful cabinetry and other art from wood. It’s long enough to restore some antique tractors. It’s long enough to leave a legacy of service, care and education through A.B.A.T.E and 4-H. It’s long enough to continue the line of the good Henry name. It’s long enough to have a good marriage with his wife Penny (although we all agree that three years sure doesn’t feel like enough). It’s long enough when you have accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior.
His words shifted my whole perspective. It was as though I had stepped out from under the funeral home’s weather-protective gazebo and into the sunshine and blue sky (and I soon proceeded to do just that). I noticed something I had missed before.
I think of Hope as this great big concept, like Faith and Love, and it is. But today I learned yet again that hope can be a kernel, a sparkle, a grain of sand. Hope is with us the entire time but often we are not looking the right way, in the right place, to the right One.
Hope doesn't make everything all better, but it does make everything more bearable. And when life is pain, sorrow, insanity, and instability, the smallest drop of Hope can make a huge difference, and lead us to the One in whom our hope is sure. (Heb 6:19)