tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18510306278775537162024-03-05T06:00:08.863-08:00Training and TreasuringAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.comBlogger73125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-1045666907466654652014-10-08T09:30:00.003-07:002014-10-08T09:30:26.392-07:00This is the Day...
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<strong><em>“This is the day the Lord has made; I will rejoice and be
glad in it.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-Psalm 118:24</em></strong></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
One year ago today, I woke up feeling like something
terrible happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something was wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My worst fear was confirmed a few short hours
later in an ultrasound room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I lay on the
table, staring at the screen, taking in the picture of a perfectly formed
little baby, only to hear the doctor say, “there’s no heartbeat.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And my world crashed.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I knew the anniversary of this sad day was coming, and I was
preparing myself for the grief, the heartache, the anger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can go there <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">so</i> easily, still a year later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I can go there <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">so </i>quickly,
even with another amazing blessing in my arms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I can stay there <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">so </i>long in my
own strength.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
But we have choices.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And while grief is a very real thing that does not need to be sped up, a
time comes when we must learn to lead our emotions instead of letting our
emotions lead us.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
On October 8, 2013, we found out we would never hear our
precious baby’s cries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On October 10,
2013, on my 32<sup>nd</sup> birthday, I delivered her in our home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will never forget that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was able to see her fingers and her
toes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And at just 13 weeks gestation,
she was a perfect creation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will never
forget her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will never forget the love
mixed with pain that I experienced that evening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was forever changed.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I remember telling my family that we were not celebrating my
birthday…ever again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember getting
angry that my favorite season of the year was riddled with so much pain, this
loss and losses in the past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember
thinking that I just wanted to be numb and pretend that nothing had ever
happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really, truly wanted to be
cool and aloof about the whole process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I mean, the baby was only a tiny little thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We only knew about her for about 3
months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had only heard her heartbeat
once.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had only seen her on an
ultrasound that day we discovered she was gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But the truth is, once that line turns pink, there is a bond that forms
that is strong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s called love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And what I learned in October 2013 is how
strong love is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Love is so strong that it can undo us in the blink of an
eye.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It can derail us overnight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It can cause us to be bonded to someone whom
we’ve never met.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It can affect the way
we eat, sleep, and exist. </div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I could write on and on about miscarriage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could go on and on about how it’s such a
violation of a mother’s body, soul, and spirit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I could describe the stages of grief in light of losing such a small
baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could tell you the ugly, awful
details of my lowest points and the exhilarating moments when I felt His
nearness. </div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
The truth is, I am still grieving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still wonder every day what that baby would
have looked like, been like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wonder
how our family would have welcomed her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I wonder what she would have been destined for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wonder why she was taken so early. </div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
But I believe that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">this</i>
is the day the Lord has made.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">will </i>rejoice and be glad in it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have learned that life is a gift.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every day is precious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And willing ourselves to dwell in joy rather
sadness does not mean I love my precious baby any less.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since losing her, we’ve had other storms to
navigate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even now, today, we’re
grieving something else in a very hard, real way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
We can live in grief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Life seems to bring hard times in waves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For us, it’s been like we’re on the shore during a violent, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">long</i> storm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’ve learned we can sit on that shore and
let the waves draw us in, carrying us away to somewhere unrecognizable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or we can stand, hold each other up, and hold
our ground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">This</i> is the day
the Lord has made.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And though a year ago
it was full of pain and confusion, and though it caused me spiritual,
emotional, and physical anguish, today I will rejoice. I will be glad that He
is sovereign.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will be glad that He, in
his infinite wisdom, gives and takes away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I will be glad that He is near to the brokenhearted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will be glad that He makes all things new,
in His time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will be glad that He is
good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will be glad in Him.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Though we have been blessed with a beautiful baby this past
August, he didn’t “take away” the pain we feel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But he is a reminder that God is the author of life and that every good
and perfect gift comes from Him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That
though there is pain in the night, joy comes in the morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That each season changes, and with it comes
beautiful and terrible things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But His
love never changes, our joy remains in Him, and He will never leave us or
forsake us.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
My heart is heavy today, but I choose joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I choose to rejoice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
My son, Micah, named our precious baby last year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He chose Mia Joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It means “my joy.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is a reminder that my joy comes from Him,
and only in Him will our joy be made complete.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This world has nothing for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But in Him our joy is made complete.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One day I will see My Joy face to face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Until then, sweet baby, rest in Jesus’ arms.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-24161979820619325062014-08-30T16:21:00.002-07:002014-08-30T16:21:19.690-07:00Eli's Birth Story...Part 1
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">So, I’m 3 weeks postpartum, and every time I close
my eyes, I still replay the hours that brought my beautiful boy Eli into this
world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In an effort not to forget the
crazy events that led to his arrival, and the scary moments afterwards, I am
going to try to put into words our story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Please do not let my exhaustion induced incoherence scare you off!</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">First, let me say that Eli is my 5<sup>th</sup>
baby, but my first where I desired to have a natural birth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All my others had been aided by pitocin (or
induced entirely with it), and I caved and had an epidural.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since my <st1:place w:st="on">OB</st1:place>
retired, this time around I chose a midwife group, and I was clear that I
wanted to avoid the epidural most definitely, and try to avoid the pitocin at
all costs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Though this pregnancy was the hardest as far as
aches and pains, I think it was the easiest because it had been complication
free!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only thing that crept up on me
was a recurrent uti-turned kidney infection during the last 5-6 weeks, which
led me to have to take a once a day antibiotic until I delivered…that’s right…5
weeks of antibiotics!</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">I am a pretty early laborer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I usually start having regular, painful braxton
hicks around 30 weeks which turn into closer, stronger contractions that start
dilating me around week 36.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was no
different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Aside from these being
incredibly distracting, they are exhausting!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Still, I was waiting for my body to kick in and get this baby out!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had all the typical “signs” of labor around
38 weeks, and I truly thought it was going to be “any day now.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You may laugh here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">I saw my midwife at 39 weeks, 4 days to do a
membrane sweep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At that appointment, we
had a good talk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She, being a naturalist
who has encouraged me this entire time I can indeed do this, was seriously
suggesting pitocin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My body was
ready.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had regular contractions, I was
dilated, effaced and ready to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had
4 small children at home to take care of, and I have been wasting away on
antibiotics for over a month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She told
me to think about it and call her on Saturday, when she was on call and would
be ready for me at the hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">We talked, we prayed, I cried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was uncomfortable and contracting every 8
minutes round the clock for 2 more days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Saturday morning, we made the call and went into the hospital to meet
our baby boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">We entered labor and delivery around 11:45 and was
admitted (which always takes such a long time!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They hooked me up to the monitors for about
30 minutes to determine what was going on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sure enough, there I was contracting, but just stuck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">I had the most wonderful nurse named Faye.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Faye was such a huge support and we laughed
together during those prepping hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Because we opted for pitocin, I had to have an iv bag of fluids before
we began.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Around 12:30 or so we started
the iv bag.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then my hubby and I
walked the halls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was actually really
nice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t in a lot of pain (yet!)
and we walked hand in hand trying to kick start labor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">At about 1:15, we finally were able to start the
pitocin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the lowest dose, it
definitely kicked in right away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Immediately, my contractions jumped to 5 minutes apart and were getting
more uncomfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, we laughed,
we joked, we talked and we reminisced about all our other children coming into
the world. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was checked at 1:45 and
had progressed, so they charted this as my official time I began labor. By 2
p.m., I was up another dosage, and I was really starting to get
uncomfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was texting with my
friend who was on her way to be with us and I remember around 2:30 having to
pause while texting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Faye kept telling
me I was getting closer because I wasn’t as giddy as I had been.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">My midwife came in about 2:45 to talk about
breaking my water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was really against
the idea, just like I was against the pitocin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However, I really wanted a water birth this time around and if I was
still using the pitocin, I would have to be constantly monitored in the water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her plan was to break my water, ease off the
pitocin, and get me in the tub.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At that
point, I was getting pretty uncomfortable and that big, beautiful tub was
beckoning me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked her to give me
like 20 more minutes and she was fine with that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She didn’t push me either way, just explained
my options and what she thought was best.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I should also mention that she had worked with my previous ob years ago
and trusted and respected him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt a
continuity of care going from him to her and really valued her opinion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Somewhere in the 3 p.m. hour, they turned the
pitocin up for the 3<sup>rd</sup> time and wowsers!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was intense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like I said, I had pitocin births with all my
previous labors and never took the epidural until close to the end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This time, it was different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I immediately could not focus on anything
else any longer but getting through the contraction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked my nurse to get my midwife.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was ready for her to break my water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was SO hoping that meant we could turn the
pit off right away!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My contractions were
coming every 2 minutes and were lasting over a minute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">She broke my water, and noted that I had progressed
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Things were going fast!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I used the rest room, and could barely make
it back to the bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Within minutes, I
could no longer talk in between the waves, and was humming through each and
every one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Faye was trying to move me in
different positions to make me more comfortable and it just wasn’t
working.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do remember looking at the
clock and it was 3:45.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I kept thinking I
would have hours of this and started to doubt myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doubt, I learned, is a natural laborer’s
worst enemy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pain is so much more
intense when crowded with doubt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">As promised, they backed off the pitocin, turning
it down to the second dosage level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Immediately, my contractions spaced out to 3 minutes apart, which gave
me some time to breathe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember
looking at my husband during that time and telling him that pitocin was from
the very pit of hell (see what I did there?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Pitocin…pit of hell?).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember
being so relieved that I would be able to get in the water soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was told that all we needed is a full 30
minutes of monitoring the baby to make sure he was handling the pit well before
I could get in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">At 4:15 p.m., my midwife came in to tell me that
she thought it would be better to turn the pit back up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because I went from 2 minutes apart to 3
minutes apart for a half hour, she didn’t think we were moving in the right
direction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With a smile on my face I
told her I hated her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She laughed and
told me she knew that was coming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Faye
brought in an essential oil diffuser and started diffusing eucalyptus into the
room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had my ipod playing my favorite
calming songs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">After that, everything became a blur.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They ended up turning the pit back up by
4:30, after another check.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was only 5,
maybe 6 centimeters dilated, but fully effaced at the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I admit, I was discouraged because things
were so intense for the past couple of hours, I thought surely I would be
farther.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But Faye reminded me I had
progressed so much in under 2 hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her
shift ended at 7 p.m., and she kept assuring me that she was going to meet the
baby.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Things got so much more intense, it was
unimaginable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I kept asking to get into
the water, but Eli was descending so fast that we kept losing his heart
rate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We played the “find the baby’s
heart rate” game for about an hour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At
5:15, my friend arrived.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At this point,
I could barely speak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I talked to her in
broken, one-word-at-a-time sentences.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was really hot and nauseated and could not get comfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My midwife was holding a straw with some
juice to my lips, which was such a beautiful way of taking care of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My dear husband was dipping his hands into a
bucket of ice water and constantly keeping cool rags on my forehead and
neck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My friend was softly encouraging
me through each wave, which lasted over a minute and were coming just under 2
minutes apart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">I had no break, and this is when I started to blurt
out “I can’t do it!” And as soon as those words were uttered, I started
shaking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ah!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Transition!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was a blessing and a curse all at once!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably about 5:45, I insisted I absolutely
couldn’t do it anymore, and after a quick check, we learned I was at a 7.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My midwife said we were headed to the tub! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat in it as it filled and was in
agony!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The water felt good, but it was
almost too late.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just a few minutes more
and I told my midwife I was ready to push.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I don’t think she necessarily believed me seeing as it had only been a
few short minutes, but sure enough, I was complete.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, how I love the number 10!</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">I powered through a few more contractions, making
some oddly strange barnyard type noises.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I remember focusing every ounce of energy trying to breathe through the
pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So much so, that I did not open my
eyes almost the entire time I was in the tub.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I couldn’t even if I wanted to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But as I was sitting there willing the good Lord to take me, I at the
same time felt an incredible amount of peace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I breathed in the eucalyptus, I felt my sweet husband’s hands washing me
with that cold water, I listened as my ipod played a familiar tune that played
over and over “It’s gonna be worth it.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
friend was encouraging me, my nurses were whispering to me how great of a job I
was doing, and my midwife was faithfully at my side, letting me know exactly
what was happening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite the
incredible pain, I felt very cared for…very peaceful.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I probably started to push somewhere around 6 p.m., give or
take a few minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But in the water, I
couldn’t really feel like I was progressing. We had suspected that the baby
wasn’t in the correct position most of the time because I had intense back
labor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure enough, it seemed baby was
turned sideways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a few valiant
efforts, my midwife calmly, but confidently, said we need to change our plan
and head to the bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Baby needed to turn
and I was going to tire myself out if I kept trying this way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I remember thinking that there was NO WAY I could walk back
to the bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I literally just had been
pushing and they expected me to walk?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No
way!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was an out of body
experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somehow, with the assistance
of my birth team, I got there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I
stood up, I felt the baby turn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew
that this was it.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I got back to the bed and my midwife knew it was time
too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next thing out of her mouth was
“Dad, do you want to deliver this baby?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>To which my husband excitedly answered “Yes!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t open my eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t answer the nurses’ questions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had no idea what was going on around me,
all I knew is that the baby was coming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
started involuntarily pushing as she was explaining to my giddy husband what to
do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could hear his excitement in his
responses to her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Admittedly, I was
really irritated that at the moment that I was in the most intense pain of my
life, I could literally hear his smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I thought of kicking him, as if I had the strength to do anything but
breathe and think <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I REALLY can’t do this!</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
It felt like an eternity…I felt like I was in that bed
pushing for hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it was only a few
minutes before my sweet Eli Joseph came into the world, right into his daddy’s
hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>6:23 p.m., 4 ½ hours after labor started,
only a really intense hour or two, and really not very long pushing, and I
realized that labor and delivery is even more intense, more excruciating, more
lovely, more thrilling, more amazing, than I had every thought before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Eli was our biggest baby, weighing 7 pounds, 8 ounces, and
21 inches long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He lay on my chest
gazing at his daddy and I as we waited for the cord to stop pulsating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And daddy cut the cord as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a beautiful experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The staff was amazing, my support team was
amazing, and my baby is amazing.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
But the story isn’t over there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Things got intense again, in a different way.
Things got scary. There’s more to come…but I have to go snuggle my baby for a
bit now. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-89112991033847030702014-07-24T04:45:00.004-07:002014-07-24T04:45:59.404-07:00Early Morning Thoughts: BecomingI have spent much of my life focused on "becoming" what I'm not instead of realizing who I am. This notion of becoming is a great distraction and a great deception. It keeps us from living life with freedom and embracing grace to live an imperfect life full of love. Instead, it has us believing that with more work, more striving, more time, eventually we will arrive where we belong and only then become useful. It holds us in a place of ineffectiveness, fear, and doubt. It is in the becoming process where we counter intuitively abandon the practice of our gifts, waiting for them to be honed by some other process. Eventually, our dreams grow dim, waiting for the day when we arrive at the place we have been training for.<br />
But we already are. I have been blessed with every spiritual blessing. I have been called by name. I have been adopted into the family of the King of kings. My frame has never been hidden from my Creator. He has knit me together perfectly, and instead of hiding until I can do something "useful" with all these things in my life that seem jumbled, unskilled, or less than perfect, I will praise Him with every ounce of my imperfection, every rough edge, every unedited word, because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.<br />
I don't need to become. I already am. I am a child of God, who He takes pleasure in, even in my imperfection, even before the world thinks I am ready to be useful.<br />
I am precious in His sight, and I love because He loved me so completely and so amazingly first.<br />
I am no longer waiting to become anything. I am taking everything I am, everything I have been gifted, and pouring it back out as a love offering to the One I was made to reflect. He is altogether good. He is altogether lovely. He is altogether worthy. And I am His.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-23636498499420876562014-07-06T11:55:00.002-07:002014-07-06T11:57:49.385-07:00The Arms of a DaddyI woke up this morning to the familiar sound of footsteps, usually scurrying to my side of the bed, cuddling up right next to me. Lo and behold, when I opened my eyes, I saw two tiny, leftover pigtails hurrying past me and around to the other side of the bed. My little girl almost never chooses her daddy over me, so I shut my eyes, pretending to be asleep so that he could experience those sweet morning snuggles. <br />
<br /><br />
A moment later, I couldn't resist peeking at them. There she was, lying perfectly across his chest, her head nestled right next to his heart. His arm held her there, and the two of them were still and quiet, just enjoying being close. My heart was so very full before I even stepped a foot out of bed. There is just nothing like the arms of your daddy surrounding you before you start your day. <br />
<br /><br />
I started thinking about when I was little. My dad would play a little game with me that we fondly named "Teddy Bear." He would come home from work and need to snuggle me, his teddy bear, to get to sleep. After he fell asleep, I would sneak away until he called out for me, and then I would return to his arms. Clever guy, huh? What a great way to sneak in a little shut eye after work! But to me, I looked forward to being wanted, in his arms. My dad's arms were affectionate and familiar. They were strong and full of protection. Even playing these childish games and running away, the best part of the game, the only point of it all, was returning to that safe place.<br />
<br /><br />
That's where my daughter chose to run to this morning. The safe place of her daddy's arms. I started to think about how we intensely need our dads arms. See, my hands are constantly busy at home. I'm cooking, cleaning, changing, bathing, teaching, hugging, kissing, holding, feeding. But my husband's arms are just as important, if not more so. He is working, providing, protecting, loving, carrying. He does what I cannot do. He lifts the kids out of danger when they are stuck. He carries them when they're tired or hurt. He fixes things. And he uses those strong arms to wrap around these little ones when they run to him, without question. It comes so naturally to him. Without batting an eye, his arms scoop up his beloved ones, place them on his chest, and welcomes them in. <br />
<br /><br />
Moms are great, but fathers are essential. And the greatest gift that we have been given is a heavenly father whose love and protection far surpass anything we can see or experience here on this earth. His arms are strong, carrying us through whatever life brings us. He picks us up when we are weary. He carries us when our wounds are fresh. He lifts us out of danger and He repairs all the problems that we create. Without batting an eye, those loving arms scoop us up and hold us close. And there is no better place to be, then safely resting in Him, feeling His heart beat, and knowing we are safe and loved.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-55897942519788657472014-03-19T20:26:00.002-07:002014-03-19T20:26:36.737-07:00Saying Thank You While Waiting for A Whisper
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Church is not a building.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s a beautiful body of believers that stand together in circumstances,
both good and bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a commitment to
loving one another the way Christ loved us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s sacrifice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
compassion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s the most amazing and
beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And from the deepest place of my heart, I say a big thank you for all of
you who have reached out to us and showed us what love looks like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Love is practical.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes it’s tangible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And being on the receiving end is
humbling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
As many of you know, we had a major sewage backup last
Friday that filled our entire basement with inches of sewage water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the storm that we’re in actually started
before then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not exactly sure when
it officially changed from sunny to stormy, but I know it’s been awhile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not exaggerating when I say we have
experienced one immensely stressful situation after another for months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are a few things that I don’t feel
comfortable sharing publicly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But know
that they have challenged every ounce of what we believe and hope for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And after being challenged over and over and
over in every way I can imagine, I was proud to say that we were walking
through these storms hand in hand, trusting God…that was until last Friday.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I have never really cared about having “stuff.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think we might be the last people on earth
without smart phones or a tablet of some sort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We do not have flat screen televisions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>All of our clothes come from resale.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And most of our furniture and things are hand me downs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We rather fill our home with children who
laugh (and cry), grow (and eat), and play (and break things).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are those moments of intense jealousy
when I’m at someone’s house that is beautifully decorated, spacious, and
seemingly perfect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just keeping it
real.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But truly, I am content most of
the time.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
That is why last Friday came as a surprise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of a sudden, losing my children’s
playroom, my home office, my home schooling storage and library, my laundry
room area, and a lot of our things in storage, really shook me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then I felt so much shame.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s just stuff, after all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that wasn’t all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t just the stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the immense amount of work ahead of
us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We already feel like time is
short.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We already have 2 major house
projects, one of which is a result of another home fiasco.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had 1200 square feet of living space to
start with in this home, plus that precious basement, and now we’re reduced to
no basement, and one bedroom off limits, plus 4 active kids with one on the way
in 20 weeks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The salvageable items line
our walls in every free space in our home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Our kids have the living room and a small area in their bedroom to
play.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is what is shaking me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My house is completely a wreck, and it’s
overwhelming.And just when we think we are making progress, there is a
setback.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
We’re looking at weeks and weeks of clean up and repair
before we can even start putting our home back together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If this were all we had to deal with right
now, it’d be enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it’s not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s just the latest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somehow I think we’ve evolved to deal with
and expect stress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it’s not easy.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
End rant.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Life is hard, but God is good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So cliché, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I literally chanted that this weekend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But in that chanting, here’s what I
learned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is good, which means He is
not bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if He is not bad, then all
the bad we live through isn’t Him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let me tell you, from the time I
was a little girl, I’ve lived through a heck of a lot of bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve never been one to shake my fist at
God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even in the fall, when we lost our
precious baby #5, I was hurt, upset, angry…but not with God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was the first time in a long time,
possibly ever, where I literally said out loud “What did I do wrong?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where did we miss you?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why are you not rescuing us?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But He was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is true He allows us to
walk through bad things, but He does not cause them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has no place in them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He only desires our good, not our bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Because He is good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He works all
things together for the good of those who love Him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if this is so, He doesn’t work the bad
in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How counterproductive, then, is it
for us to shake our fists, yell up at heaven, or separate ourselves?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wants to partner with us always, in every
moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Now, to be clear, despite this fabulous epiphany that I’m
sure you all have had and I’m just late to class, I have had some VERY human
moments in the last week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve cried, I’ve
snapped at my kiddos, and I’ve doubted so very much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve literally had to overcome despair on a
daily, if not hourly, basis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I don’t
use the word despair lightly. It’s hard to be knocked down by wave after
ominous wave and not feel alone, even betrayed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And those feelings pull out some very human moments and reactions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I was driving to the store to buy even more garbage bags on
Saturday, and all of the sudden the story of Elijah on the mountain popped in
my head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As soon as I had a moment, I
quickly re-read it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s found in I
Kings 19 and worth a re-read.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Elijah
ended up running away, fearing for his life, and hiding in a cave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He just wanted the Lord to take his
life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He literally uttered “I have had
enough, Lord,” in verse 4, the very thing I was uttering when this story
invaded my conscious thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you’re
familiar with the story you know that God told Elijah to go out and stand on
the mountain because He was about to pass by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In verses 11-13, we find this well-known part of the story:</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 1em 0in 1em 0.5in;">
“Then a great and powerful wind tore the
mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the <span>Lord</span>,
but the <span>Lord</span> was not in the wind. After the wind there
was an earthquake, but the <span>Lord</span> was not in the
earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the <span>Lord</span>
was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah
heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth
of the cave.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 1em 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Then a voice said to him, “What are you
doing here, Elijah?”</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 1em 0in;">
I always took this passage to mean that God’s voice doesn’t have
to be mighty and powerful, but we are to be quiet before Him to hear that
gentle whisper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I always took it to be a
lesson to be still before the Lord.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m
reading it differently now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One thing
Elijah had going for him was familiarity with His maker and His ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You see, Elijah was done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was throwing in the towel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had retreated and given up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But God wasn’t done with Him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Calling Him out to the mountain, God was
waiting for Him to respond to His voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But Elijah’s response required him to drown out all the noise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The wind that shattered the solid rock before
Him was just a distraction. God was not in the wind. The earthquake that
literally shook Elijah as he firmly stood waiting for the Lord was not mistaken
as a punishment or a redirection or an answer to a prayer to end his life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And no, God was not in the fire that raged
after the other waves of destruction had invaded Elijah’s territory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How long was he standing there I wonder?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Does it matter?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After having been called out on a mountaintop
with a promise to hear the voice of God, only to experience the elements betraying
everything you can see around you, I don’t think it would take long to get
discouraged and feel betrayed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
Elijah waited, knowing God isn’t bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
is good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And He wouldn’t call us to the
mountaintop to leave us disappointed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 1em 0in;">
Elijah had to wait through the wind, through the earth shaking,
through the blazing heat of a fire to hear a whisper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 1em 0in;">
So, here we are, standing on our mountaintop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve been blown by the wind. We’ve been
shaken by the earth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re feeling the
fire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we’re waiting for the
whisper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And in waiting for
that whisper, we have seen an amazing outpouring of love and support by so many
around us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In just a few days, we have
received enough financially to clean and repair our basement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have been well fed, which is great because
all the air movers in our basement literally have rendered our kitchen
appliances useless, causing a blown fuse with even use of our toaster!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have people donating toys to my kids who
have lost their playroom full of toys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Old friends, new friends, and many I don’t even know are reaching out to
us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And though it’s “just” a basement
flood, to us, it’s a mountaintop moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We’ve been standing up here awhile and are growing weary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the sacrifice and kindness of so many
people who love the Lord and are being obedient to His whispers are sustaining
us. </div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Thank you to everyone who have sustained us. We do not take
one meal, one toy, one dollar lightly, knowing how much sacrifice each one
is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though we are weary, our hearts our
full of encouragement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is the
church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s beautiful.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-67544920527310336672013-10-21T12:23:00.002-07:002013-10-21T12:23:19.802-07:00Trading My Ashes for His Beauty
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“I’m beginning to
believe that you won’t leave me here, God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Just help me to trust all the words you say.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I’m learning to surrender, I’m learning
to forgive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m learning to receive all
the love, all the love you have for me.” –lyrics from Isa Couvertier<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><o:p> </o:p></i></div>
Tomorrow, it will be two weeks since we learned that our
little baby no longer had a heartbeat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The days that followed have been hard, physically, emotionally, and psychologically.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I honestly do not know how to answer everyone
who is asking me how I am doing. I’m pale and tear stained.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel empty and heartbroken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My throat has a constant lump in it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m grieving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And that might confuse those who have never lost in this way, because I
never actually thought through this process before walking through it, but I
will tell you that this loss is real and painful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m walking around in a fog, knowing full
well that what I see is not all that exists.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That there is heaven, and whatever it is that separates this earth from
that glorious place is the threshold to meeting my precious little one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I often find myself “checked out” of what is
going on in front of me because of what is going on inside of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
By sheer mechanical habit, my kids are getting dressed and
fed and schooled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Through the kindness
of friends, we haven’t been forced to solely rely on cereal as our only means
of nutrition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My husband has been
amazing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s so quiet, but I know just
how much more of a load he’s carrying because I know what I’m <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not</i> doing, and how much is still getting
done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But still, he’s grieving too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And as I’ve watched him moving about the days
in strength, I’ve watched his eyes fill with tears at night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve never been more thankful for his arms
around me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
But in the midst of all the tears and the difficulty just
making it through the day, there’s a beautiful, mysterious peace that I’ve
found.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It doesn’t take away the
sorrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It doesn’t take away the
process, but it’s made me reexamine who God is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And let me tell you, He is amazing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“My lover is radiant and ruddy, outstanding
among ten thousand…His mouth is sweetness itself; he is altogether lovely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is my lover, this is my friend…” (SOS 5:
10, 16)</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I’ve had so many friends tell me it was o.k. to be angry
with God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To those friends, I say thank
you for loving me and letting me grieve, but I came to a point very early in
this process when I knew I was angry, but it seemed like a waste of energy to aim
that anger at God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it was God who
caused this, then everything that I know of Him, all that I believe, would be
null and void.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would lead to a crisis
of faith.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I know His word is true,
so I knew that the target of my anger could be explained in a better way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
John 10:10 says “The thief comes only to steal and kill and
destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have an enemy who is very real.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I forget this when I get wrapped up in
life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I blame him when something goes
wrong with our finances, or our hard days with the kids….and that’s not
displaced blame.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I forget that he is
much more harsh, more cunning, more destructive than I tend to remember.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And just because I have a relationship with
the Lord does not immunize me from his hatred.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I would argue that it makes that hatred all the more real.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that is what happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had to see and experience death last
week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was gruesome and cruel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was heartbreaking and horrifying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it was nothing new.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This has been happening since the serpent
came to Eve in the garden and whispered “Did God really say…?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that same whisper invaded my ears last
week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Oh, God is good?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Really?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then why is this happening?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did
God really say…?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Yes, yes, God did say that He came that we may live and live
full, abundant lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, God said that
Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yes, God said that He will go before us and hem us in behind and
before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said that He is a refuge to
us and that He is near to the brokenhearted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He said that He would work <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">all </i>things
according to His purpose for the good of those who love Him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said he would <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">never</i> leave us or forsake us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
And He hasn’t left me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He is so near and so good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though
there is death and sadness, this was not His intended, created order.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And He doesn’t just throw His hands up in the
air and say “Oh well…you sinned and this is what you get!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, our God is so good that He gave His son,
which I realize more now how amazingly sacrificial that was, so that my little
baby who never got to be held or kissed by me, can live forever in the arms of
a loving God, never knowing sickness or sadness or sin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And in the midst of my grief, He is taking
what the enemy of my soul has intended to destroy me, and He’s turning it into
something He can use to work something deep into my heart.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I have a choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
can stay angry, closed up, and distract myself into numbness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or, I can grieve, cry, and trade these ashes
for His beauty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seems like the
obvious choice, but it’s not simple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I want to be alone right now, and in my loneliness, I want
to feel sorry for myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to turn
on the tv and get lost in whatever is on, no matter if I like it or not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want stay daydreaming about my baby and
what we would have been like a year from now, a family of 7 instead of 6.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to tantrum sometimes like a little kid
who didn’t get her way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But God is
drawing me to something better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
He allows us to grieve and ask why.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">garden</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename w:st="on">Gethsemane</st1:placename></st1:place>,
Jesus said “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death…My Father,
if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But in the midst of that overwhelming sorrow
and grief, in His very next breath he uttered, “Yet not as I will, but as you
will.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God did not create death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But he chose to use it through His son to
work something deep into the hearts of men for ages to come, so that we might
be spared and spend eternity with Him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What a good and loving Father.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
I personally am thankful that He overcame the grave!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now I don’t have to wonder where my little
one is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
So though you might see me with tear stained cheeks, tired and
overcome with grief and sorrow, I can say God is good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has been working deep things in my
heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He sits enthroned in the heavens,
and my little one gets to see Him face to face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There is no greater gift I could have given my child but Him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And for eternity that little one gets to rest
in His perfect arms of love because we allowed her life into our lives, even
for a short time.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">“Blessed are those
whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As they pass through the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">Valley</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename w:st="on">Baca</st1:placename></st1:place>
[tears], they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with
pools.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They go from strength to
strength, till each appears before God in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Zion</st1:place></st1:city>.”
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Psalm 84:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>5-7<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
This verse has been prayed over me many times during my
life, but never did I receive it with such clarity as I do now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My heart is forever set on a pilgrimage and
my very life’s goal is to draw closer to the heart of God, always sojourning
until the day I see Him face to face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But in this journey, there will be tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jesus warned us that in this life, there are
many troubles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But we are blessed when
we make this journey through hardships and allow Him to turn our tears into a
place of springs…life!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But here’s my new
favorite part:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“the autumn rains also
cover it with pools [blessings].”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
You see, I learned of my baby’s passing two days before my
birthday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My actual birthday and the
days surrounding this year were filled with so much pain, physically,
emotionally, and psychologically.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Three years
ago, during the same week, my cousin suddenly passed away. When I was younger,
my grandfather also left this earth around the time of my birthday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few other hard things have happened during
the very same week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, my initial
reaction to the timing of all this was “What in the world are you trying to say
to me about the week <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I</i> was brought
into the world!?!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
And in the Lord’s kindness, He revealed a little more about
this passage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s these autumn (some
versions say early, but mine actually says autumn) rains that bring blessings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And with each terrible hardship, each year, I’ve
walked away with immeasurable blessings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not in an outward sense, no not at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In fact, it seems each autumn (or close to it) brings loss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it’s in this loss that God chooses to
draw me closer than ever before and give me a glimpse of His eternal
glory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d rather have that than a
birthday cake any day.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
This year, my blessing has been a renewed commitment to
maintain possession of nothing on this earth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I own nothing, and I am nothing apart from Him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He alone sits enthroned in my heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I found how easily it is that I allow
things that He has blessed me with, good things, to take His place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How quickly my family became so important to
me that it threatened to take that place of most importance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And like Abraham who was asked to offer up
His only son, my Father has challenged me with whether I’d be willing to give
up these good and perfect little blessings if He asked me to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unlike Abraham who had unwavering faith, I
was quite a bit more hesitant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But His
kindness led me to a place where I realize that if I truly want to possess all
of Him, to know Him in His fullness, than I must possess nothing else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And though Abraham was rich and owned many
things, he possessed nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is
the cry of my heart as I continue to walk through the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">Valley</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename w:st="on">Baca</st1:placename></st1:place>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That I might come out receiving His blessings
that these autumn rains are bringing, but still possessing nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="verse" style="margin: 1em 0in 1em 0.5in;">
<span class="textphil-3-7">But whatever
former things I had that might have been gains to me, I have come to consider
as [one combined] loss for Christ’s sake.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="verse" style="margin: 1em 0in 1em 0.5in;">
<span id="en-AMP-29428"><span class="textphil-3-8">Yes, furthermore, I count everything as loss compared to the
possession of the priceless privilege (the overwhelming preciousness, the
surpassing worth, and supreme advantage) of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord <i>and</i>
of progressively becoming more deeply <i>and</i> intimately acquainted with Him
[of perceiving and recognizing and understanding Him more fully and clearly].
For His sake I have lost everything and consider it all to be mere rubbish
(refuse, dregs), in order that I may win (gain) Christ (the Anointed One),</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="verse" style="margin: 1em 0in 1em 0.5in;">
<span id="en-AMP-29429"><span class="textphil-3-9">And that I may [actually] be found <i>and</i> known as in
Him, not having any [self-achieved] righteousness that can be called my own,
based on my obedience to the Law’s demands (ritualistic uprightness and
supposed right standing with God thus acquired), but possessing that [genuine
righteousness] which comes through faith in Christ (the Anointed One), the [truly]
right standing with God, which comes from God by [saving] faith.</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="verse" style="margin: 1em 0in 1em 0.5in;">
<span id="en-AMP-29430"><span class="textphil-3-10">[For my determined purpose is] that I may know Him [that I
may progressively become more deeply and intimately acquainted with Him,
perceiving and recognizing and understanding the wonders of His Person more
strongly and more clearly], and that I may in that same way come to know the
power outflowing from His resurrection [which it exerts over believers], and
that I may so share His sufferings as to be continually transformed [in spirit
into His likeness even] to His death, [in the hope]</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="verse" style="margin: 1em 0in 1em 0.5in;">
<span id="en-AMP-29431"><span class="textphil-3-11">That if possible I may attain to the [spiritual and moral]
resurrection [that lifts me] out from among the dead [even while in the body].</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="verse" style="margin: 1em 0in 1em 0.5in;">
<span class="textphil-3-11">Philippians
3: 7-11, Amplified</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Thank you for praying for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though this post is long, there is so much
more to say!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So many victories and
kindnesses and lessons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of us have
been walking through this with a heart to see God’s purpose in our pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We ask for continued prayer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I personally ask that you pray against fear
that is so quick to enter my mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
also for energy to accomplish the day to day tasks of this family that I am so
blessed to be a part of for as long as He lets me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For my husband to be blessed, because I do
not exaggerate when I say that he has been the most excellent husband and
father I could have imagined, while all the while his heart has broken as
well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finally for my kids…it was my
oldest’s first reaction to pray for a miracle when he heard the news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love that I got a glimpse of his
faith.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ask for prayers for them, that
their faith is increased beyond measure and that in their sadness, they find
comfort.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
If you’ve read to this point, I thank you for letting me
pour out my heart to you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pray that He
blesses you and that you walk with a deeper understanding of how near He is to
us always.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Many tears are still being cried, and each and every day is
difficult, but He is good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is good.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-47089737560378248382013-10-09T12:15:00.001-07:002013-10-09T12:15:10.150-07:00My Deep Sorrow <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I feel like I’m having an out of body experience, and yet I feel every bit of pain, both real and emotional, that hits me like unrelenting waves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think this is just a really, long, bad dream, but there’s no waking up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s no going to sleep either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where I once felt life, I feel hollow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where there was joy, there is so much sorrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">And yet…</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><o:p> </o:p>Though I said “I will never be shaken,” I am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not in who or what I believe in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But in who and what I am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And what is just? And what is fair?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And why does it all matter?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because in light of the thousands of tears I cried, and the countless prayers I’ve prayed, He’s still the same, yesterday, today, and forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is still good.</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">My heart has never been as broken as it is right now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cannot comprehend how to move on in this moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But He is good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And He will gently lead me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m so sad, and I’m angry, and I’m confused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But He is good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And He still holds my heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Selfishly, I want to hold and kiss something that I cannot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel robbed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel violated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel empty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">And yet…</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">He is near.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So near.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My soul is downcast, but I will praise Him yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because without Him, without His love, I could not have possibly loved another precious, tiny one whom I have never met this much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My love for this life lost is supernatural and inexplicable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It comes from something much greater, much wiser, more powerful than I.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s in those tender arms of perfect love that I imagine my little one right now, separated from me, but forever in His presence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Oh, my soul is weary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am nothing apart from Him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sad, and angry, and confused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I will trust in that unfailing love that I had the privilege to experience and that I will never forget.</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-45512876120945077142013-08-08T10:46:00.001-07:002013-08-08T10:46:19.019-07:00What Extravagant Love Looks Like
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Tomorrow is going to be a great day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But before you start wondering what’s on our
agenda, I’ll just stop you there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
not going to be great because of something we have planned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not going to be great because of
something we’ve done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Tomorrow is going to be great because there’s a woman who
lives far away from us that is going to endure one of the most selfless acts I
have heard of, and there will be much rejoicing because of her actions flowing
out of such a beautiful heart.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Tomorrow, a wife, a mom, a sister, a friend is checking
herself into a hospital, and giving away a part of herself so that another
young man, whom she never knew, could live.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Tomorrow, this woman is setting aside her agenda, her social
life, her expectations, and her body so that another person could have the
opportunity to have an agenda, a social life, expectations, and live in his
body.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Tomorrow, three children, one very young, will watch their
momma walk out Scripture in a way that so many of us only talk about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tomorrow a man is loving others in such a
sacrificial way that he is giving his wife up for a period of time so that they
can together fulfill a call on all of our hearts: to love each other as Christ
has loved us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tomorrow, family and
friends will wait and watch a beautiful act of selfless love enter this
world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Tomorrow is going to be a great day.</div>
<br />
A very good friend of mine’s sister-in-law heard about a
young boy who desperately needed a kidney to save his life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not knowing whether she was a match, she
boldly and courageously asked the question, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Why
not me?</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She didn’t use her busyness
as an excuse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She didn’t use the odds of
matching this need as a reason to stay away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She was moved in her heart to help another, like so many of us are
moved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The difference is that she went
way beyond being moved, and instead moved herself into action.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I don’t know this woman personally, but I’d love to meet
her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’s a hero, although I’m sure she’d
never consider herself as such.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’s an
example, although the motivation of her heart was not to lead, but to love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We talk a lot about how much we love the
Lord, but eventually this love should overflow into life changing encounters
with others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her intense love for her
Maker inspires me, and draws me to a place where I desire to extravagantly
love.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Tomorrow, she is giving life to a child, but she is giving
glory to God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Matthew 25: 31-46 says
this:<span class="woj"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="woj"><sup>31 </sup>“When the Son of Man
comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious
throne.</span> <span class="woj"><sup><span id="en-NIV-24041">32 </span></sup>All the
nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from
another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.</span> <span class="woj"><sup><span id="en-NIV-24042">33 </span></sup>He will put the sheep on his
right and the goats on his left.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span id="en-NIV-24043"><span class="woj"><sup>34 </sup>“Then
the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my
Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation
of the world.</span></span> <span class="woj"><sup><span id="en-NIV-24044">35 </span></sup>For
I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me
something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in,</span> <span class="woj"><sup><span id="en-NIV-24045">36 </span></sup>I needed clothes and you clothed
me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit
me.’</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span id="en-NIV-24046"><span class="woj"><sup>37 </sup>“Then
the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you,
or thirsty and give you something to drink?</span></span> <span id="en-NIV-24047"><span class="woj"><sup>38 </sup>When did we see you a stranger
and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?</span></span> <span id="en-NIV-24048"><span class="woj"><sup>39 </sup>When did we see you sick or in
prison and go to visit you?’</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span id="en-NIV-24049"><span class="woj"><sup>40 </sup>“The
King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these
brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<span class="woj"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span class="woj">Her name is Kim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pray
for her and her family tomorrow as she does this amazing act of love for a boy
who needs extravagant love, but ultimately for her King.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span class="woj">Tomorrow, let’s love others extravagantly right alongside of
her, however you feel led. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span class="woj">Tomorrow is going to be a great day!</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-27668900458949326962013-07-30T10:56:00.002-07:002013-07-30T10:56:50.173-07:00When We Lose Confidence
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
When is it, exactly, in our lifetime when we start to lose
our self confidence?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When is it that we
start to feel self conscious?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When is it
that we start to lose sight of what makes us come alive, and rather choose to
act in a way that we feel “safe” in the eyes of those around us?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Just a few weeks ago, I realized that my oldest child, a
mere 6 ½ years old, is starting to feel less than adequate in some areas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And my heart broke in a whole new way.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Twice a week, we try to quick clean the whole house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s amazing how quickly things around here
can clutter up and get grimy!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To make it
fun, we play some upbeat tunes, set a timer, and see if we can finish cleaning
the room in the allotted time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
become our favorite way to get our chores done, and I’m often asked on
non-cleaning days if we could “just do timer cleaning on just one room,
pleeeeaaaase!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Once the timer is set, and our playlist is queued up, dust
rags, vacuums and mops join the chorus of many voices singing, little fists
pumping in the air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, cleaning day
over here is wild and loud, but we don’t mind getting our chores done!</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Just a few weeks ago, as I sprayed everyone’s dust rags
during one of our favorite cleaning songs, I noticed one less voice joining our
chorus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There stood my oldest, cleaning,
but clearly <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">feeling</i> awkward,
restraining himself from joining in our family fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I took him aside to see what the matter was, thinking he
wasn’t feeling well or that perhaps he had something else on his mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t expect him to say, “Mom, it’s just that
I don’t sing as well as you or Noah, so I thought I wouldn’t be a bother and
not sing at all.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, my first
response was, “Honey, of course you’re as good as us!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">should</i>
still sing!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His little brother was
listening and also rushed into the scene, attempting to encourage big brother
and tell him he sings beautifully.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Later that day, my dear son said he wanted to talk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">know</i>
I’m not as good as you are at singing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
also know that I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">am</i> good at other
things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just don’t want to do the
things I’m not good at anymore.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Time to be honest:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>as
much as I absolutely, beyond a shadow of a doubt, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">LOVE</i> to hear my son sing, it’s true that he’s not going to be
recording a Billboard hit in his future.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But my heart was to encourage him not to quit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Singing is praising, and the Lord only
requires us to make a joyful noise, not a perfectly harmonic noise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Besides, who is to say who is good and who is
better?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And furthermore, who says that
you can’t improve if you just keep trying?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
These are all the things that were whirling through my head,
but all that came out of my mouth was “for now let me pray about this and we’ll
talk later.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Thank you Lord for teaching me a little restraint!</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The more I thought about it, the more I
realized, our choice to restrain ourselves, sometimes resulting in fear, comes
from our inability to realize <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">who</i> we
were created to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The truth is, we
were each designed specifically by the Creator of the Universe, who chose to
place stars in the sky, give me my curly hair, and give my son the voice He
gave him (which by the way is one of the sweetest sounds I have ever heard in
my life).</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I realized that I am just now entering into a season of
knowing who <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I</i> am, and not in the
sense of what I want to be or do with my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>No, in being who I am unapologetically. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In knowing that my sense of humor is a gift,
and that my intelligence is not a bad thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In feeling comfortable in my own skin and with my own voice. In
passionately following things He placed in my heart with no excuses, no
restraint.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will not be the best at
anything I do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is always going to
be someone more creative, more proficient, smarter, more organized.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I have let that silly truth stop me in my
tracks so many times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But my Creator has
made me <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">exactly</i> who I am, and has
told me in 2 Timothy 1:7 that I have not been given a spirit of fear, but of
power, love, and a sound mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
And the more I prayed about what to tell my son, I realized
that I would be supportive no matter what he chooses, as long as he walks along
in the confidence that God intended for him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are other ways to praise, and he is my one who reads and loves the
Word.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He speaks truth over each one of
us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know that he desires a
relationship with the living God, rather than religion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But still, he is 6.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has a lot to learn, develop, and
practice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So we sat down and examined
some Scripture together to figure this one out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Here’s a sampling of what we discussed:</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">1 Peter 2:9</b> says “But
you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging
to God, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that you may declare the praises
of Him who called you out of darkness in to his wonderful light.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>(emphasis added)</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b><span style="color: black;">Psalm 139:13-16</span></b><span style="color: black;"><br />
“For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I
praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are
wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was
made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in
your book before one of them came to be.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12.55pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<b><span style="color: black;">1 Samuel 16:7</span></b><span style="color: black;"><br />
“But the LORD said to Samuel, ‘Do not consider his appearance or his height,
for I have rejected him. The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man
looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.’”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="color: black;"> </span><b><span style="color: black;">Matthew 5:13-14</span></b><span style="color: black;"><br />
"You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how
can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be
thrown out and trampled by men. You are the light of the world. A city on a
hill cannot be hidden.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b>1 Peter 2:5</b><br />
“You also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a
holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus
Christ.”</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I looked at his little face and told him how precious he was
not just to me and our family, but to His King who made him just the way he
is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As his smile spread across his face,
it seemed like a light bulb came on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
apologized for not singing…indeed, he wants to sing…and dance…and play
instruments…this boy was a fountain once we tapped into him!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I reminded him he doesn’t sing <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">for </i>us, but for His King…I think he gets
it now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s been singing louder and
longer ever since, even writing some of his own songs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cannot help but ask myself <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">what if we never talked this one
through?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What would have happened to
this passion that I see in him now?</i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
When do we lose our confidence?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When is it that we abandon what is in our
hearts for something that is seemingly acceptable?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
When we lose sight of who we are living and breathing
for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we choose to please the
created rather than the Creator.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we
have enough self awareness to finally learn what sacrifice might be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But in sacrificing what others think of us,
we rest in a place of true joy, walking in confidence, and becoming the person
we were destined to become.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Here are some of my boy’s latest worship lyrics:</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>God, you
are my King,</div>
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The best
King,<br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The only
King.<br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>You are
more powerful than anything.<br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>You are my
King.<br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>You are my
King.<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-23563663007858059742013-07-12T13:16:00.003-07:002013-07-12T13:17:34.017-07:00Permission to Be Beautiful<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Beauty is in the eye
of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or
misinformed beholder a black eye.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">– Miss Piggy, <em><span style="font-family: Arial;">The Muppets<o:p></o:p></span></em></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></o:p></span></em></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">While I start my
morning ritual of scrambling eggs and blending our smoothies, my toddler daughter
starts her own morning routine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After at
least 12 hours of beauty sleep (which is God’s gift to </span></em><em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">both</span></em><em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"> of us!), she wakes up, finds her necklaces and
shoes, and after adorning herself, she promptly grabs a baby doll or two,
kisses them, and wheels them into the kitchen, snuggled up in their tiny pink
stroller.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">When I’m rushing to
get everyone out the door, making sure the boys have taken that last fateful
trip to the bathroom, counting the number of diapers I have packed, and making
sure I remember to look in the mirror </span></em><em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">myself</span></em><em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">, she’s waiting patiently to get her hair
done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She sits up straight and still,
and always wants to look in the mirror when her styling is complete.</span></em></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"></span></em></span> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlZN09A-5vyiMUTc6vx_24GAoDnZWlm3PMSjC7RW8BnJK87HOowQSRj2EDMuMjFpFpbZqk7HcVwZtDEBvTysVL0tKHK5at9egsLEbG8IgldvYgfSrumCiTPlY6UTDQx8QC1GoXGjXxY8s/s1600/DSCN3990.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlZN09A-5vyiMUTc6vx_24GAoDnZWlm3PMSjC7RW8BnJK87HOowQSRj2EDMuMjFpFpbZqk7HcVwZtDEBvTysVL0tKHK5at9egsLEbG8IgldvYgfSrumCiTPlY6UTDQx8QC1GoXGjXxY8s/s1600/DSCN3990.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span> </div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My husband and I
laugh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you know me, you know how
simple I am when it comes to my “routine.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My hair is usually in a pony tail, and I have minimal makeup on, if any
at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My only piece of jewelry that I
sport 99% of the time is my wedding band.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So my pretty princess did not get her desire for all things pretty and
shiny from me at all.<o:p></o:p></span></span></em></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Her innate desire
to be beautiful has caused me to sit back and wonder what God has written on
her heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was a deeper ponder than
I wanted to have pondered.<o:p></o:p></span></span></em></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Before my daughter
entered into my life, I would have told you that beauty wasn’t important to
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But now I can say that that would
have been an ignorant, quickly dismissive statement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Logically speaking, who doesn’t love to look
at something beautiful?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who doesn’t want
to feel like they live in a beautiful place, or to vacation somewhere that they
consider beautiful?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who doesn’t
appreciate the beauty of nature?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who
doesn’t notice a handsome man or a beautiful woman as they walk by?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We, by
nature, appreciate beauty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></em></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Who doesn’t love a
compliment?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even in my hard-hearted
days, a compliment made me feel alive inside, whether or not it showed
outwardly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And though we should not give
other people’s opinions power over us, our emotions and our thinking, their
words of encouragement tend to give us joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></em></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><o:p> </o:p></span></em></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Logically speaking,
then, beauty is important to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like
beautiful things, and I love receiving an unexpected compliment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why then have I flippantly dismissed beauty
for such a long time?<o:p></o:p></span></span></em></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><o:p> </o:p></span></em></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, my pondering
has brought up many reasons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And much
(but not all) has to do with the way I grew up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I didn’t have the mom figure telling me I was beautiful or guiding me
through what I call “the awkward years.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>No one taught me how to dress for my figure, or do my hair and make
up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But arguably, many women, even with mothers,
have that same absence in their lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></em></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some women take it
upon themselves to learn, because they are honest with themselves that they
desire to be beautiful. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, not me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hid from it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I saved all the insecurity of my awkward
years in a box, right next to my 3 makeup items and hair appliances I rarely
use.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And when I walk into the bathroom
on a quest to look how I want to feel, instead of reaching for my mascara, I
take out that box, sort through it while looking into the mirror, and walk out
resigned to never be beautiful.<o:p></o:p></span></span></em></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, I’m being
totally honest here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have gone to
enough teachings, enough small groups, and read enough books on what beauty
is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I’m a firm believer that beauty
does not define you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It does not give
you confidence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It does not give you
joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You know what it gives you?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beauty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is, of itself, something to behold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is something created to celebrate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And we are something created to celebrate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></em></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I watch my daughter
adorn herself in the morning, and look at me with such joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I watch her older brothers finding her so
adorable for acting so feminine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I
wonder when and why I decided to not allow that freedom and that joy in my own
life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></em></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hid behind my
intellect, reasoning that God looks at the heart, not the hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that’s true!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t get me wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But my heart was not right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because instead of seeing myself as He sees
me, I saw something different…something undesirable…something that wasn’t worth
investing in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I hid behind the lies
of busyness, and priorities, and excuses in order to not deal with my heart
issues.<o:p></o:p></span></span></em></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hesitate to write
all of this because it is difficult, especially for Christian women, to invest
in themselves without feeling vain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
don’t want to be that fleeting beauty, but we want that Proverbs 31
character.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While the Word says that God
looks at the heart, He also looked at the beauty of His creation and saw that
it was good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></em></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">I think of all the
times when my husband has paid me a compliment, and I’ve struggled so much
because internally I’m thrilled but externally I roll my eyes and play it
off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think of times when I get
together with a friend and they tell me I look great and I begrudgingly say, </span></em><em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Oh geeze, thanks, but
I don’t feel great,</span></em><em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"> completely
not receiving that compliment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then
I think of God looking at me, a created woman, and as He gazes on my, dare I
say, beauty, He says that it is good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Man, am I convicted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My beauty that He
created is good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see that every time I
watch my daughter twirl in a pretty dress, with her pigtails and
necklaces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is beautiful and not
vain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is beautiful and not
proud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is beautiful and knows it,
but does not chase after it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pray that
she stays humble and confident, chasing after the eternal, but always knowing
how precious and gorgeous she was made.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></em></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I decided to
confide in a friend a few weeks ago about my quest for beauty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And when I say friend, I mean the kind where
you know that before you were born God just knew you were going to be friends forever
kind of friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I confided in her
because she has known me most of my life, knows all my secrets and insecurities
as well as my strengths and confidences.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She is beautiful on the inside and out and knows how to make women feel
the way they were created to feel. <o:p></o:p></span></span></em></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">We had a great
conversation about how beauty is something that God made, and that is o.k. to
want that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want my daughter to feel
beautiful, but I think my heavenly Father probably wants that for me too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I confided that I feared trying to look nice
because I was afraid of what others would think…</span></em><em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Oh, this is you</span></em><em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"> trying</span></em><em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"> to actually look nice?!</span></em><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But through our conversation, I realized
that I was perpetuating the same perversion of beauty that I logically tried to
avoid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was placing my beauty in the
context of other people and not my own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here’s when the Miss Piggy quote comes in…I am beautiful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if others don’t agree, they probably just
need a perspective adjustment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can
list for you the things I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">don’t </i>like
about myself, but the power of life and death is in the tongue, and I want to
appreciate who God made me inside and out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>While I know He looks at the heart, the way we perceive and fall out of
gratitude for who He made us on the outside can start to make our hearts grow
sick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am on a journey of health and wellness,
and it includes healing my heart from years of insecurity and denial and
embracing the way He knit me together uniquely and divinely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Epilogue:<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here’s the fun part!</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My very beautiful friend, who I confided in, asked me to
meet her at her house last night for a surprise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’s a make up artist, and I had asked her
to give me a few tips to update my look.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She did such an amazing job of accenting all the beauty in my face,
teaching me little tips and tricks along the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After our make up session, she whisked me off
to a beautiful salon to get a new cut and some styling tips from a really great
hair stylist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt as if there should
have been cameras following us along on our journey!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was living a real life make over totally
steered solely by my very own friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She went out of her way to schedule time with me, which is no small task
for a busy mom of three little boys!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
set everything up ahead of time, even sending my picture to the salon so that
they could be ready with some ideas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
when I walked out feeling fresh and new, we went out and laughed and had some
great conversation. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a night I
will never forget!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I woke up this morning with my newly styled hair and makeup
tips and took only about 10-15 minutes to put myself together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hmm, it’s not that difficult after all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I made myself a promise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My friend thought I was beautiful and wanted
to invest in me, and I want to steward that investment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead of looking at my flaws, I’m going to
enjoy the beauty God has given me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> So without further adieu, I proudly present you with an updated me...and it feels great!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_FI7jxaGAfYeluADWdqjWPlVPgx3-J2Y9k-aHQn0LHLdcxxtCoh_6jiETBNuIkxRW1EjJcN-eruU7tcI8Ebi5xkghG2tZ9A9uqCxxHV9jqkzzTRrcs8pV3U5hWUUZC8agnmCyx7lYhuo/s1600/DSCN4064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_FI7jxaGAfYeluADWdqjWPlVPgx3-J2Y9k-aHQn0LHLdcxxtCoh_6jiETBNuIkxRW1EjJcN-eruU7tcI8Ebi5xkghG2tZ9A9uqCxxHV9jqkzzTRrcs8pV3U5hWUUZC8agnmCyx7lYhuo/s1600/DSCN4064.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want my daughter to see the world through His eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a culture obsessed with looks, trends, and
perfection, I know it will be a challenge to keep her eyes focused on what
matters most at times. But I want her to see herself the way God sees her…the
way her dad and I see her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is
absolutely stunning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is
amazing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I treasure her beauty, and she
has inspired me to treasure my own.<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></o:p></span></em></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-6350158735820477372013-06-15T20:37:00.004-07:002013-06-15T20:38:45.838-07:00What I Have Learned From My Father<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
My dad is one of my best friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I’m proud to say that I’m a lot like
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of his quirks that I used to
roll my eyes at, I realize I have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All
the things he found fascinating and I thought were less than, I now find
fascinating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has left me a love of
knowledge, a passion for truth, an appreciation of art, music, and theater, and
his lovely, witty, corny sense of humor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
But the greatest thing that he passed down to me was a commitment
to prayer.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
When I was little, I remember stumbling out of my room early
in the morning, nightgown crooked, sporting my bed head, Rainbow Brite in hand,
and peering down the hallway, peeking in at my dad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not sure if he knows I did this to this
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I would watch him kneeling by
the couch, whispering so quietly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seemed
as though he was unloading all of the thoughts on his heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For whatever reason, I was fascinated by a
big, grown up man kneeling so low and whispering so quietly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I remember one morning excitedly heading back to my room,
kneeling at my bedside and whispering to God the way that my dad did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve never stopped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was onto something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I have no idea what he whispered to the Lord every
morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Victories and challenges.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joys and pains.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But whatever life brought us through for
years to come, I always remembered the man who brought himself so low and
stayed so quiet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
There are moments of life that are unkind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are moments that are challenging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are moments that are sheer joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And in all those moments, I’ve learned to
come to the One who held my dad so steady.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
My dad is intelligent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He’s talented.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s witty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s kind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But most importantly, he is humble and wise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And even though he probably had no idea I was
spying on him, and though he didn’t know those quiet actions were the loudest
to me, he left me a legacy that I desire to pass down to my children, and them
to theirs.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Happy Father’s Day to a dad who has modeled to me what a
good man looks like when no one is looking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I love you!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-69072943136851031992013-06-09T19:37:00.001-07:002013-06-09T19:37:01.419-07:00According to His Glorious Riches
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
It’s Sunday night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The grass is cut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The garden is
watered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We fired up the grill for
dinner and had some great chicken and veggies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We played football in the yard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We stopped when we saw a bird, or a squirrel, or an ant, because all
moving creatures are completely fascinating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We had ice cream cones and baths.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We read stories, sang songs, and kissed foreheads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And tonight we think that we are the
luckiest, most blessed people in the world. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Unfortunately, every day doesn’t follow the script like
today did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of the time, we have
tantrums, potty emergencies, forgotten items, emergency appointments, and my
quick prayers are filled with the words “grace” and “help.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But this weekend was different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yesterday, we watched our older two boys
score soccer goals and helped our little ones cheer them on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We went for a 3 mile hike in “a very
adventurous forest,” according to my 2 year old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We listened for frogs, found turtles, and
climbed a very large hill that the boys’ proudly referred to as a mountain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And tonight, after so many adventures, so
many moments, and getting so much done that life demands for us to get done, we
sit here feeling blessed beyond measure.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
We made a choice 6 ½ years ago, when our first son was born,
for me to quit my job and stay home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was a choice that I never thought I’d make.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was career driven since I was in Jr. High.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Success was my driving force.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But something happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God spoke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He rocked our world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He asked me
to lay everything down for this little one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And I did…though not always with a right attitude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I truly believe He doesn’t call everyone to do this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just like we are all called to different
paths in life, I believe that how we raise our families also looks
different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The important part is whether
we have our ear turned to our Maker. He will provide us with direction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that direction doesn’t always make a
whole lot of sense.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I say this because for 6 ½ years, I’ve struggled with whether
we did the right thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Note, I did not
say that I’ve struggled with whether or not I’ve heard God’s opinion in the
matter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s been quite clear over and
over again that this is what He has for us right now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But there are those times when money is
tight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are those times when you
visit a friend’s house with half the number of kids and double the square
footage that you own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are those
times when you talk to a friend who is able to work outside the home, and you
wish you had that outlet now and then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But when we walk in the will of God, we have His favor, and nothing else
can replace that.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
In the last few weeks we have seen His favor in an amazing
way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just when I think that we should
change course, He confirms that we’re walking right where we should be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most recently, we had an emergency that left
us with a bill that was a burden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
prayed that night for peace about the situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tend to worry and panic when I don’t know
how things will turn out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The very next
day, I received a card in the mail with a check, blessing us with the very same
amount of money that we needed to pay off this debt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The note simply stated that God asked them to
give, and so they did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The card was
mailed the morning of the emergency…before we even had a need.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
He knows our needs and acts upon them before we even know
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are richly blessed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
We walked in more favor that week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were blessed by a crock pot of chicken
soup to soothe our fevering, achy bodies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My boys prayed for pizza one night for dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I rolled my very tired eyes at that one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was most definitely not in the
budget.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At 4:45 that evening, pizza was
delivered to my door…it was from a good friend who wanted to bless us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got a random note of encouragement in the
mail a few days later that spoke directly to the insecurities and questions in
my heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We received some good news
that we’ve been waiting on for a long time. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We felt the hand of God in our lives, and it
was exhilarating!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
My oldest son has a gift of encouragement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pair that with an impeccable memory and love
of knowledge, and he is sometimes my most favorite person to talk to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just a few days ago, we were recalling all of
the things that God has done for us recently.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He quoted two verses in our conversation that have stuck with me for
days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said, “It’s not a surprise to
me that God did what He did for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When
we walk with Him, we have His blessings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Our God will meet all our needs <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">according
to His glorious riches.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And He’s
pretty rich mom.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After some more
conversation, he quoted 1 John 3:1 “How great is the love the Father has
lavished on us, that we should be called children of God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that is what we are!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(We have this one posted in our house).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But he told me, “You are a child of God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And when you honor Him, He wants to give you
everything He has planned just like when I honor you and you have great things
planned for me.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m so thankful for his
wisdom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
There are hard days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Like, really, really hard days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are many, many moments of doubt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But there are these divine, amazing times when it’s undeniable that
despite what we <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">don’t </i>have, we are
exactly where we’re supposed to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
we are standing in a place of blessing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My heart is to take it all in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
don’t want to miss a moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
We chose for me not go to work and make an extra income for
our family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This means we don’t have all
the things others do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This means we don’t
do all the things we’d like to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sometimes it even means we don’t have the things we need.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But He supplies all our needs, and keeps us
in a place of green pastures and still waters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And we have seen the seasons shift enough times now to know that there
are times we give to others out of His riches, and sometimes we receive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Either way, we can’t go wrong with an ear
turned toward Him.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
So tonight, as I rocked my little girl, kissed my little
boys, and cleaned up the toys in the yard, I’m feeling really rich.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am living out His promises for me today and
every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am breathing the very
breath He intended me to breathe today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am thoroughly enjoying examining the ants, chasing the squirrels, and
teaching my kids the difference between weeds and tomato plants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love sitting on the couch with my husband
in the dimly lit room talking about the past, present, and future.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I love having His love lavished on us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I always want to be fascinated by the
ants moving, the squirrels chattering, and the birds soaring above us.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-6218558714166208232013-05-13T13:04:00.001-07:002013-05-13T13:04:23.757-07:00Intensity = Results
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 5pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none;">
Intense.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 5pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none;">
It’s the only
word I can come up with to describe the last few weeks, months even.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And just when I think that I’m warming up to
the intensity, life keeps happening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It keeps
getting more, well, intense.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 5pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none;">
With four
mobile children ages 6 and under (one entering her tantrum time, and one
hopefully exiting his), a newly potty-trained 2 (soon to be 3) year old little
man, finishing up home schooling for the year, and the regular rig-a-ma-roll of
cooking, cleaning, shopping, chauffeuring, and working, I’ve barely had time to
breathe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 5pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none;">
Note:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not complaining.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I function best under pressure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, I even added more to our plate:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>getting the house ready to put on the market
(we’ll see!), starting a new exercise and diet routine (2 weeks, 8 lbs. and 12
inches lost), and continuing to form a non-profit organization aimed at
adoption education, support and reform.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>To top it all off, my dear husband has been working out of town Monday
through Friday, giving me some extra weekday duties and no evening relief!</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 5pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none;">
No, I’m not
complaining.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m celebrating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Life is good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We’re definitely not bored.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our
house is filled with laughter…or crying…or both.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My days are spent with my four favorite
little people in the universe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
evenings are spent catching up on the phone with my favorite guy in the world
before I conquer the rest of my to-do list.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I remember days that used to seem super long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These days go by too quickly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, I’m not complaining…this week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But if you talked to me before my last heart
check, I was oozing with discontent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
apologies to all those friends who endured my grumbling.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 5pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none;">
Until recently,
this intense season left me panicky, complaining, and dismal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What’s a girl to do with all this
responsibility, no help, and pure, utter exhaustion? Well, this girl tried to
do it in her own strength…over and over and over and over again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Day in and day out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And what met me in the morning was a worse
attitude than the day before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I dreaded
the day, and “suffered” through them as if my life was terrible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Truth is, it isn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not one little bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But by breakfast, I probably visibly appeared
burdened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yeah, I was a little, black
rain cloud.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 5pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none;">
But intensity
does that to you…it skews your perspective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It makes you think that you absolutely cannot handle another
responsibility, another moment, another activity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In reality, and in ultimate truth, we can do
all things through Christ who gives us strength…ay, there’s the rub.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In who?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not in me…but in Christ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 5pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none;">
You’d think I
would have this idea down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’d think I’d
know to take life one day at a time, in His strength.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that truth is still sinking from my head,
to my heart, hopefully to become my habit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It wasn’t until about 10 minutes into a grueling (for me!) exercise dvd
last week that I realized how much we want to quit when things get hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doing 3 minutes of intense strength training
on the same muscle group not only affects my body, but it affects my mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">You can’t
do this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You aren’t strong enough for
this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re gonna collapse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just give up.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But everything in me knows that if I stick
with it, results happen…and it’s not that long of a time in the grand scheme of
things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 5pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none;">
So it is the
same with life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we’re faced with
intense challenges, they are physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually
draining.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our mind plays some pretty
powerful tricks on us, tricks that seemingly erase truth that we were convinced
were rooted in our hearts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">You can’t do this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Poor you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Other moms at least get a break..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You’re never gonna make it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just
give up.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Self-pity sets the stage
for lies to creep in and transform our mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But there’s a huge problem with this…self-pity, lies, exhaustion, life
circumstances, intensity in general are not the controlling factors in
transforming us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rather, Romans 12: 2
says “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.</i>”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 5pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none;">
I’ve been
justifying my heart attitude saying that I still was making time for God. I was
still in the Word.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was still leaning
on Him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Therefore, this was what
holiness and goodness and joy looked like in this season.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’m gonna be honest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was all in vain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was looking for Him to take away my burden
rather than allowing him to transform me by renewing my mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t giving him my mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was holding on to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was offering up my time, my attention, but
not my agenda…not my complaining.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
couldn’t imagine succumbing to the thought that I could endure my to-do list
with joy and strength.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, that couldn’t
be the answer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The moment I let my
agenda go, so went the grumbling, the self-defeating thoughts, and dreading
waking up the next morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 5pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none;">
The character
trait we’ve been learning around the Stack house is patience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The operational definition of patience is
something that I should have picked up on much sooner than I did…it might have
ended my mind grumbling a little earlier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We’re learning that patience means “accepting a difficult decision
without giving a deadline to remove it.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 5pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none;">
So while I
thought I was being patient outwardly with my kids, my husband’s work schedule,
my own work…really, inwardly I was loudly reminding God (o.k., screaming at
Him!) that if He didn’t do something to my work load I was going to explode.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 5pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none;">
I am thankful
for His mercy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am thankful that He
takes us through some intense times so that He can drive home a truth that we
think we have a handle on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am thankful
that I can walk my kids through my weaknesses, and I am hopeful that they don’t
struggle with fundamental truths to the extent I do at my age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 5pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none;">
I am thankful
for intensity. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s exhausting, but it
always produces results.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-74267096047692461842013-03-13T10:41:00.001-07:002013-03-13T10:41:22.153-07:00Sayonara to Sippy Cups
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Just when you least expect it, it hits you: that
overwhelming wave of nostalgia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just
today, as I was changing loads of laundry, I held my third son’s beloved
blankie, and instantly remembered the day he was born.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Perhaps the nostalgia comes from the fact that today is my
daughter’s first birthday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One year ago
right now, my husband and I were anxiously awaiting her arrival in a hospital
room, full of joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It doesn’t seem right
that it’s been a year already.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
remember holding her tiny little body for the first time, tears streaming down
my cheeks as I exhaustedly muttered, “Well, I’ve been waiting a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">long</i> time to meet you, my little
princess!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember handing her to my
husband, and watching his proud daddy look melt into a different kind of
love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember thinking that he looked
different gazing at her than when he first beheld each of our boys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember bringing her home to a house full
of love, with little boys begging to hold their sister.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember changing her clothes way too often
because I wanted to play dress up with a little girl.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
And now, that little girl is walking, and talking, and
drinking from a cup, and waving bye-bye…and I just am not ready for her to grow
up.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Just this past weekend, my husband and I were able to get
away for a night…the first time since we became parents!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was wonderful!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’d be lying if I said that there wasn’t
a little bit of sad mixed in there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our
two oldest boys, 6 and 4, have never slept away from home without us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And there they were, with their two best
friends, hugging our legs and waving us away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We watched as they ran with their friends, farther and farther away, and
I thought to myself, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">surely, they are
still too little to have friends…to have a sleepover…to start making those
amazing childhood memories that include others besides ourselves.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had the time of their lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They played in mud, collected rocks, built a
tent, and ran around playing soccer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
But I wasn’t expecting them to grow up this fast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are reading, writing, understanding
jokes, developing skills and confidently using their talents…and I just was not
expecting this to happen so soon.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
As I put my two-year-old son’s blankie into the dryer this
morning, I got misty eyed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember
when he first decided, in his baby mind, that this was his blankie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was back in the day when I was still
nursing him and rocking him to sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was when he was my baby, no younger sibling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was when he preferred playing with me than to his brothers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was before the days when he wrestled with
the boys and daddy, before the days when he thought burping was funny, and
before the days when he had a pajama preference.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And though I was tired, overwhelmed at times,
and genuinely worn out as a mom of three young boys, I cherish those days of
innocence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Last night, I kissed that little 2-year-old boy as I placed
him in a big boy bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has grown up
faster than the rest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wants to be
just like his brothers, and so he’s said goodbye to his crib, his sippy cups,
and his baby toys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t realize that
seasons were changing until they changed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My baby boy has turned into a walking, talking, cup drinking,
big-boy-bed sleeping, soccer ball kicking kid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And I just wasn’t ready for that.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
These days of mothering get hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wait.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That’s an understatement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
are days when I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">literally</i> say out
loud “Help me Lord!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or else I might
explode!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, just this morning, I
was doing the laundry because my kids are sick…again…and yes, they “sicked” all
over their beds in the middle of the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Today was particularly challenging, but I realize that these moments are
fleeting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The busyness of young children
carry us…no, push us into the very next moment before we are ready for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even in the craziness, even in the busyness,
even in the “sicked” laundry, there are beautiful moments that amount to
nothing more than gifts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I get the
privilege of watching these little princes and this little princess grow and
become who they were intended to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
tantrums, the laundry, the diapers, the sleepless nights are par for the
course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I probably will want to cry again sometime soon…maybe even
today!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I probably will get so
overwhelmed that I have to stop and pray.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And that’s o.k.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything that
is worth something requires those moments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And there is nothing else worth more to me than my family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I am so thankful for that little Winnie the Pooh blankie,
washed and dried and fresh again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is
a reminder that though my little guy’s said sayonara to sippy cups, he still
has many years to grow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And though I am
not ready, I do love watching the process unfold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do love watching my kids make friends and
discover who they are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no
greater gift than watching God’s hand on your child’s life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just pray that I stop in the middle of all
the busyness to keep watching.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Teach me how to
number my days that I might gain a heart of wisdom.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Psalm 90:12<o:p></o:p></i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-61394834971197233352013-03-06T11:45:00.002-08:002013-03-06T11:45:52.236-08:00Candy Crush Saga: a Reminder That God is Fun!
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
So, I have a guilty pleasure…no, it’s not the Bachelor or
American Idol.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not cheese or chips,
or gambling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t smoke, drink, or
swear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I do like to play online
games.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pretty sad, huh?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, I have about a million things to cram in
my day, and arguably these are an enormous waste of time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They really are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But some days, they are my reward…my way
de-stressing after a busy day and calming my brain down (do you hear all that
justification!?)</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Today, just this afternoon, in the midst of my guilty
pleasure, God spoke loud and clear…and made me and my kids laugh out loud.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Anyways, one of my new favorite games is called Candy Crush
Saga on facebook, or as it is known in our house, “The Saga.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each board has a different task to complete
either in a predetermined amount of moves or time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You complete the tasks by swapping the colored
candy-looking objects around making a row of three, four, or five alike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It sounds so simplistic, and really it is,
but the challenges get more and more difficult as you go, and well, it gets
quite addicting.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Now, my hubby used to play video games a lot, and loves role
playing games.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I grew up with the
original Nintendo and fell in love with puzzle-type games, like Dr. Mario.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our poor children were predisposed to video
game fascination, so we have to be very careful about how much screen time we
all have!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I generally only indulge in my
guilty pleasure once the wee little ones are asleep at night and the two older
ones are on their way to be tucked in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Of course, the bright colored candy screen objects caught their
attention one night, and my husband and two older boys were sucked in right
along with me.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
And so, the next few nights, sandwiched between teeth
brushing and story time, my boys would cheer me on in the ever-so-important
game of Candy Crush Saga.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It became a
fun 10 minute little ritual…until I got stuck on board 65.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With only 5 lives allotted at a time, I stayed
at board 65 for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">weeks</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every night, we gathered to see mommy quickly
lose all of her lives, time and time again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was impossible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t even
get close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, faithfully, we log on
to Candy Crush Saga thinking maybe, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">just
maybe</i>, I can beat the board.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
This morning, we finished our chores and our school work
early.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This could be due to the fact
that a new early riser in the house who has enjoyed waking up her mama at 5:30 a.m.
all week. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had so much extra time that
I even retold some extra Bible stories in my own words, which my kids love
because I try to make them a little funny to keep their attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of my 4-year-olds favorites is the parable
of the persistent widow, or the sistent widder, as he calls it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He told me this morning that the sistent widder
was on his heart, so we talked through that one in addition to Joseph, Job, and
Abraham.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Being a creature of schedule, I wasn’t sure what to do with
the hour of extra time between school and lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started searching for craft material,
seeing as Miss Rooster was snoozing, when my boys asked “Could you play the
Saga?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even my two year old excitedly
hopped in my lap, hoping to catch a glimpse of this fabled game he hears
about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I figured I would lose my 5 lives
in 10 minutes or less and then we could move on to our craft.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Faster than usual, I blew through 4 of my 5 lives. It was
then that my 4 year old informed me that he started praying that I beat this
board a few days ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My 6 year old
excitedly said, “That’s a great idea!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Let’s pray!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Me, being the
wonderful, spiritual mother that I am, shamefully replied “Well, go ahead, but
I’m thinking Jesus probably doesn’t care much if we ever beat this board on
this silly game.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is one of those
times when I am actually glad that they ignored me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They said a quick prayer and I pressed
start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wouldn’t you know it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I beat the board…with 10 moves to spare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They both got so excited, my oldest started
to cry, and immediately they thanked God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I could so easily explain this away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had been playing this darn thing for weeks,
I should have been able to beat it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
could easily call this a coincidence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But what I’m choosing to call it was a huge lesson for my kids…and
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">does</i> care about the little things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We spend so much time in our family talking about children around the
world who don’t have mommies or daddies, or clean water, or food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We serve in places where people need
compassion and care.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are trying so
hard to open our kids’ eyes to see the world around them through God’s
eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But what I have failed to do as a
mom is tell my kids how limitless, awesome, caring, detail-oriented and fun God
is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still look at life this way:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>why would God answer a prayer about a dumb
game while someone somewhere is dying from starvation?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My six year old said this, just as this
thought was going through my brain:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>we
can pray as many prayers as we want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There’s no limit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And He can
answer any ones He wants, because He’s God.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
They immediately wanted to call daddy and tell them that we
aren’t stuck on that board in the Saga…but they told him that I didn’t beat it,
but God did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It made me laugh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God really gave me a good laugh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He reminded me that He is much bigger than I
daily think him to be, and He reminded me by playing a game with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He showed my kids and I that while we are
sitting here wasting time, entertaining our brains for a few minutes, He is
sitting here with us, enjoying watching us having fun. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
The icing on the cake was hearing my boys tell my husband “God
is so fun…and funny.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You know
what?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are made in his image…and we are fun and
funny sometimes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Bible refers to the
fact that God laughs, dances, and sings over us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I too often forget that!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Who knew that a midday game of Candy Crush Saga could bring
such breakthrough and renew a heart of joy?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I sure didn’t expect that one, but I’m glad He chose to speak to us in
such a fun way today!</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-65354339796128304052013-03-04T11:39:00.003-08:002013-03-04T11:39:33.105-08:00Lessons Learned On Our Crazy Monday<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Things I learned today:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<ol start="1" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">If you
fail to turn on the dishwasher before bed with 4 little kids, there will
be no clean plates or forks for breakfast.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">When
emptying the canister on the bagless vacuum, it would be wise to do so <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">away</i> from the crawling baby and
curious toddler.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">If wisdom
eludes you regarding item #2, you can actually vacuum a crawling baby and
curious toddler.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">If you
are able to teach kindergarten phonics and first grade math <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">without </i>an interruption from said
baby and toddler, you are not enjoying peace, but rather something is
wrong, and baby and toddler will have to be cleaned up….again.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Toddlers
who have kidney issues still must give urine samples…they tape a bag to
his “region” and tell him to pee.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">A
toddler with said bag does not like the way it feels and will refuse to
pee.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">While
waiting for a bagged toddler to urinate in a small dr.’s office with 4
small children, it is wise to have plenty of diaper wipes handy for the
baby, in case of explosion, books for older children, and candy to bribe
the toddler with.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">If
wisdom has eluded you regarding item #7, a 4 year old is able-bodied to
wet paper towels and hand them to you in a pinch for a diaper explosion,
thereby also occupying him, and cough drops are good stand-ins for candy
bribes.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">McDonald’s
Hi-C will not make a toddler pee any faster.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">After
2 ½ hours of effort, ¼ tank of gas, and two crying children, a toddler
will wait until you return home, take off your shoes and coats, and put
the baby down for a nap to finally relieve himself.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">If
you, in the middle of all the morning’s chaos, failed to turn the
dishwasher on in the morning, there will still be no clean plates or
forks.</li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
We have to laugh to get us through this Monday!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Happy Monday-hope yours is less eventful!!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-29337404239548941792013-03-01T11:43:00.001-08:002013-03-01T11:49:20.952-08:00Celebrating Ten Years of Being Joined to My Best Friend<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I haven’t had much time to write these days, much to my
dismay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I may get 5 minutes here or
there, but no real down time when I can concentrate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, I had planned a post for today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You see, today is my and my husband’s ten
year wedding anniversary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had written
how we met and how God worked in both of us at the same time and eventually
brought us together…it actually was a pretty good post, if I do say so
myself!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a little long, but I
thoroughly enjoyed writing it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However,
no post of mine has ever taken that long and, honestly, has ever been proof
read!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I scratched it, and well, here is
what is on my heart today…right now…un-edited.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
As my head hit the pillow last night, I started realizing
the deeper work that God has done in my heart and in our little family over
here in the last 10, well even 15 years!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This morning, I woke up to my boys’ smiling faces, just oozing with excitement
to wish us a “Happy Versary,” as my 4-year-old would say it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All day, they have been talking about how
wonderful it is that we are married, and how one day they want to marry their
best friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I even took them on an
impromptu trip to the Children’s Museum this morning, where they proudly told
all the new friends they had made, “My mommy and daddy love each other so much
and today they’ve been married for 10 whole years!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Their excitement really has caught me off guard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are not the ooshy-gooshy, touchy-feely
couple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We haven’t even talked much about
this day, other than to say that it is, in fact, our anniversary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heck, we don’t even have anything special
planned tonight!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Don’t worry…we have a
date night scheduled <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">next</i> weekend!)</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
After lunch, I asked my boys why they were so excited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My oldest said, “Well, you can tell that you
really love each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one makes
daddy laugh like you and you smile all the time when he’s home. We’re just so
happy for you!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That made my heart melt…and
remember.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those things that are so
evident to our kids are what made us realize we were made for each other. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My husband and I have known each other since
we were teenagers, serving alongside each other at our youth group.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, many years passed before God merged our
paths into one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many things had to
happen in each of our hearts, and both of us separately pursued God and His
plans for us, not knowing what that would include.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
When I was younger, I was hurt and broken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having lost his mother unexpectedly, my
husband was sad, lonely, and a little lost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We both told the Lord at a young age that if we were to marry, we had to
be sure it was forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We both had so
much fear, so much anger, so much to heal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Admittedly, I never wanted to marry anyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought I’d graduate from law school, land
a job in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Manhattan</st1:place></st1:city>,
and live my life alone, in an overpriced apartment, with a closet full of
suits, surrounded by quiet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sounds kinda
stuffy, huh?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I left about an ounce of my
heart open for the possibility that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">maybe</i>
God had something else up His sleeve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But I told him that if He did, I needed to know this person inside and
out.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Unbeknownst to me, my husband was saying the same
thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wanted to be joined with
someone that had the same vision and values.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He wanted to also know his wife for a long time, and have her be his
best friend.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
We got everything we prayed for, and so much more.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Looking back, there were little hints.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I was 15, I watched him get
baptized.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had maybe said two words to
him before that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was the farthest
thing from boy crazy, and honestly had no feelings toward him or anyone else at
the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, boy oh boy, once that guy
hit the water, my waterworks started.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
wept, and then was embarrassed and confused at my seemingly uncontrollable
emotions.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
We laugh at old pictures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are so many of us, way before we had even started becoming
friends, when we are side by side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
have so many pictures of us on mission trips together, playing with little
kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are a few of us serving at
soup kitchens side by side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the
funny thing was, we really didn’t speak to each other in those days…yet, we now
have a pictorial history book of those days when God was healing our hearts and
crossing our paths before we knew it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7A4fviHFlLdiLEwX3weHL1Go3Lqcj4fq3ZEkFN6JCbOg8Nj6ewctWWbum5_ZkqFt2jIycS0w0U4YpfYKArO9M-3Tx5YsgmxQ0wpGRFqxKiVpFIYWzd7w6qUtBkrff2Zl8yyBd-XFksAw/s1600/da1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7A4fviHFlLdiLEwX3weHL1Go3Lqcj4fq3ZEkFN6JCbOg8Nj6ewctWWbum5_ZkqFt2jIycS0w0U4YpfYKArO9M-3Tx5YsgmxQ0wpGRFqxKiVpFIYWzd7w6qUtBkrff2Zl8yyBd-XFksAw/s1600/da1.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
The summer after my senior year of high school, we went on a
mission trip to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Guadalajara</st1:city>,
<st1:country-region w:st="on">Mexico</st1:country-region></st1:place>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We found ourselves walking side by side down
a street one afternoon as men started to taunt me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could tell he didn’t know what to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before long, our guide had run over to us and
informed us that when one is trying to “sell” a woman, he walks her down the
street with her on the outside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Whoops!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We laughed so hard, and I
wouldn’t let him forget it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rest of
the trip we found ourselves cracking jokes, and making each other laugh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, we had been around each other for years
at this point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew generally who this
guy was, but all of the sudden, I saw so much more. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
The next few months we talked more and more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But my radar was up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had been hurt so much in the past and still
was not ready for where I thought this was going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wrote him a long letter telling him that I
really appreciated this new friendship, but I wanted to keep it just that:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a friendship. I was a “no physical contact”
girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still really am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t hug much, and I was uncomfortable
being too close to someone…this little fact also made it’s way into the letter
because I realized that Dan was a hugger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If I were to maintain my emotions and trust my new friend, I really
needed it to be on my terms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think
this would officially have scared most people off, but his reply was patient
and gentle:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>of course we can remain
friends, hands-off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said that this
friendship was much too important to ruin by not being honest with each other.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
The next year and a half (got that? <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Year and a half </i>of no contact) was spent hanging out at young adult
events, sometimes with a group of our friends, but mostly letter writing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At first, we wrote about silly things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After some time, we shared about what God was
doing in our hearts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually, we opened
up and talked about our past, about our hurt, and about how much we had
overcome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One day I woke up and realized
that all those feelings that I swore I would never feel were already
there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had taken all of the precautions,
I had people who kept me accountable, I had distanced myself, but still…I was head
over heels in love with this man. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
On January 1<sup>st</sup>, 2001, he wrote me another
letter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This one asked me whether I
would consider letting him pursue me for marriage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had never once been on a date.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had never once held hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had never once even confessed to one
another that there were feelings between us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We didn’t have to.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
The next 10 months were even more wonderful than before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Friends were commenting on how happy I looked
and how much Dan laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He continued
to write to me almost every day, and I wrote him back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A little over two years after he tried
selling me on the streets of <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Mexico</st1:place></st1:country-region>,
Dan asked me to marry him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rest is
history.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Here’s what I realized, though, when writing down a much
longer version of our story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dan’s love
language is touch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wrestles with our
kids, always hugs his family, and loves to sit next to me on the couch and hold
my hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The two years that I had fallen
in love with him was such a sacrifice to him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Looking back, I realize that he had loved me so much, he didn’t <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">need</i> my love in return.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was patient, gentle, and selfless.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other thing that I learned, very soon
after we were married, was that Dan considers writing an actual form of torture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even making a grocery list can bring tears to
his eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet, I have probably a
thousand letters, emails, and cards that he wrote me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He pursued me on my own terms, despite his feelings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What else says love like that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Even on our worst day, I have never questioned that we were
made for each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We truly fell in
love, side by side, while looking forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My absolute favorite thing to do is make him laugh, and I consider it a
challenge to do so before he takes his shoes off every day when he gets home
from work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And yes, from about 5 p.m.
until I lay my head on the pillow, I am normally smiling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I’m not, he is sure to remedy the
situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m so glad that my kids see
the years and years of our friendship still showing through us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m so glad that they want what we have.</div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz5X5Pcodjv5aX6PjhbovHZ1yZyk7EUCBUNwYNfBQQbhEbii3V01hqVHWOheBrACDE0iLsfM05wSxqcwF-RYnwtjstSk2NdIEYlHJixcnj45XjFLMbksPqM3kEXnSexfwCvB6P3pj6d7g/s1600/da66.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz5X5Pcodjv5aX6PjhbovHZ1yZyk7EUCBUNwYNfBQQbhEbii3V01hqVHWOheBrACDE0iLsfM05wSxqcwF-RYnwtjstSk2NdIEYlHJixcnj45XjFLMbksPqM3kEXnSexfwCvB6P3pj6d7g/s1600/da66.jpg" height="320" width="217" /></a></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
So today, instead of celebrating love or commitment,
faithfulness or romance, we are celebrating friendship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our feelings have come and gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There have been good days, bad days, great
days, and horrible days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But each and
every day, I look into those clear, blue eyes and remember that he is the same
friend that waited for me, pursued me, waited some more, and then took me in
his arms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Ten years is a long time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But if we look back even further from when we first met, we are two
completely different people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What was
once broken and full of pain is now, by God’s grace, whole and full of
joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Marriage is a mystery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, like they say,
it truly is the best kind of work when you’re doing it with a friend. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7D5xwVCOfKkEagqXN-mFbzckUn5Jg1HzH2ir8vgzAMpYv6YpXTbg03iM2lg0NSzf0C8S0k30siYAeN-ThljrXHfUOttE-LIjeZPgJJTGsBvswLfzM1Fu_s4ZSAtsc5TyKRh-FS0MH-ns/s1600/unity+candle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7D5xwVCOfKkEagqXN-mFbzckUn5Jg1HzH2ir8vgzAMpYv6YpXTbg03iM2lg0NSzf0C8S0k30siYAeN-ThljrXHfUOttE-LIjeZPgJJTGsBvswLfzM1Fu_s4ZSAtsc5TyKRh-FS0MH-ns/s1600/unity+candle.jpg" height="256" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-66761225146516699342013-02-14T11:45:00.003-08:002013-02-14T11:45:52.771-08:00Ode to Men
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">It’s so easy to
man-bash, isn’t it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He doesn’t
communicate enough, he isn’t thoughtful, he doesn’t help out as much as I need
him to, etc</i>. Really this can all be summed up by this phrase:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>he’s human.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Guess what?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So are we!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty
sure my hubby could rack up quite the list if he wanted to and woman bash!</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
To tell you the truth, I’m not a big fan of Valentine’s
Day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My husband and I don’t really even celebrate
it because, a. our anniversary is in 2 weeks, and b. it was never important to
either of us. But as my boys grow, I realize how wonderful it is that there’s a
day set aside to remind us to extravagantly love, whether that means our
spouse, our kids, our friends, our parents, or a stranger who is all
alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This morning, I woke up with
immeasurable joy knowing that I am blessed woman, surrounded by amazing men who
need no reminder to love me extravagantly every day.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
So, in light of Cupid’s big day, I thought I’d take a moment
to thank my men, both big and small.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As
I reflect on who I am and how I’ve got here, I realize that God has used all
these guys in some major ways.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Happy Valentine’s Day to my dad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is the first man I ever loved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a time that we were not close, but
not by his choosing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were times I
pulled away, but he has always faithfully waited for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To this day, he remains the most gentle man I
know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our visits always seem to short
and the years go by so fast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He taught
me what love looks like during a time when I could not see it. He made it a
point to live life with me, always taking me on new adventures, whether it was
ice skating, hiking through the woods, or teaching me all the swimming
strokes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He imparted in me a hunger for
knowledge, and fed it with frequent trips to the bookstore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is a servant, and to this day shows me
what it means to be a parent and lay your life down, even when it’s not
convenient.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just last week, on one of
his only days off, he drove 30 minutes to pick me up and take me to the dr.,
then to the pharmacy, just to drop me back off and drive 30 minutes back
home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope that I can show my kids the
love, leadership, and servant-hood the way my dad has shown me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m glad I take after him in so many ways,
and am honored to be his daughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Happy Valentine’s Day to my brother-in-law.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a time during my adolescence when
he was the only man I was allowed to see.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He was the cool guy with the red sports car, playing M.C. Hammer while
he took me to Chuck E. Cheese.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He showed
me that life could be fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He played air
drums while I danced around the living room on a Saturday morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He made me forget a lot of life’s pain during
that time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He taught me that it’s
important to work hard, but not to take all of life’s woes too seriously.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He still is one of the first to tell me how
proud he is of me, to cry when I’m crying, and to poke fun at me when I need to
lighten up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you for loving my
sister the way you do, and showing your four girls what a great husband and
father looks like.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Happy Valentine’s Day to my sons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All three of them are so different, but so
perfect!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Micah, with his compassionate
heart, is an absolute thrill to have in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Daily, we talk about God and His word.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We pray together, encourage one another, and
enjoy each other’s company.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His heart
provokes me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is also a constant
reminder of God’s faithfulness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For
years we wondered if we’d ever have a child, and he’s the tangible evidence
that God does what He said He will do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Noah, with his exuberant joy lightens the mood of our entire house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He smiles almost constantly (even when getting
disciplined) and he genuinely loves each member of our family in such a divine
way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He always thinks of others before
himself, and he teaches me every day that we should enjoy this life that we are
blessed with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sam, with his fearless, adventurous
spirit has molded me into a woman who cannot lack spontaneity and who must let
go of expectations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is a good
thing!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was rigid and scheduled, but I
have learned to slow down and enjoy more…and to always be prepared with gauze
and bandages!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All three have servants’
hearts, going above and beyond what I ask them to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All three are eager to help around the house,
with their siblings, and let us know how much they love us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You will all be amazing husbands one day,
because you are amazing men!</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Lastly, Happy Valentine’s Day to the man I was created
for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one else in the world gets me
like he does.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is the one my soul loves,
and if I reminisce about our beginnings, I see how God worked even before we
knew much of each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From the very
first conversation that we had, we started becoming each other’s best
friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has taught me how to
selflessly love, how to be patient, how to be kind, how to be a servant, and
how to serve without grumbling or complaining.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He works so hard for our family, and comes home to wrestle with the
boys, help out with the dishes, and run an errand if I need him to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve watched each other struggle through
difficult life issues, but he’s remained faithfully at my side through mine,
and I have remained faithfully at his side through his.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have learned more about I Corinthians 13
love by loving this man, which means he has been doing his job at helping me become
more Christ-like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am honored and
blessed to be his wife, and forever and always consider it my life’s biggest
blessing and joy to be forever joined to him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I am thankful for the men in my life, and I pray that you
find the time to reflect and thank all the men in yours!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Happy Valentine’s Day!</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-48699157484871226702013-02-12T12:19:00.001-08:002013-02-12T12:19:16.093-08:00Sick...Again!Well, I just can't seem to catch a break this winter season!<br />
<br />
After 5 of us battling the flu over Christmas/New Years, we had about 2 weeks of health before I caught another bug that developed into a lengthy case of bronchitis. Slowly, each of my little ones are coughing and sneezing their way out of the healthy zone. <br />
<br />
I will admit: I am exhausted and annoyed that despite all the hand washing, sanitizing, and bundling, I have had more sick days in 2013 than healthy by far! All I want is a few hours of sleep, uninterrupted by my cough, my teething baby, my fevering 6 year old, or my other two little dreamers. All I want is the energy to be able to do the "basics" around our home, instead of just falling back to survival mode, which is a setting we know all too well around here.<br />
<br />
Confessions aside, I have a choice to make. I can choose to act how I feel, or I can choose to actively love and find the good in this season of life. <br />
<br />
I have been chatting with a good friend about finding the little moments in each day when God is giving us a gift, big or small, instead of being so distracted by our circumstances to stop and breathe. I remember once when I left a few little encouragement notes for my husband to read when he got up one morning. I stayed up late, wrote some thoughtful messages that I knew would encourage him during a discouraging season, and tucked them in places where he would normally look during his morning routine. I woke up to find all of my notes still tucked away, unopened. Later, I learned that he had woken up late for work and rushed around to get ready, completely missing the encouragments and love notes waiting for him.<br />
<br />
I am like that a lot. I rush around, checking things off my list, feeling overwhelmed with my responsibilities and my energy levels. However, when I rush around, I miss the little mercies that I get from my Creator each and every day. I am thankful for my friend who I can text and say "I'm wanting to have a bad attitude," who texts back, "Let's pray that you see His mercies, big or small, today." I'm thankful for a God who doesn't let our circumstances stand in the way of His neverchanging goodness and faithfulness. <br />
<br />
So, instead of complaining, I want to celebrate my little gifts that I received during my break from health! <br />
<br />
Today's mercies...<br />
<br />
1. No one cried during breakfast, which is EXTREMELY rare, and much appreciated due to a headache!<br />
2. My boys actually cleaned their room when they were asked, without getting side tracked.<br />
3. I called the dr. about my oldest, who is fevering and coughing, and they were able to get us right in!<br />
4. We had the very first parking space at the dr.'s office.<br />
5. My kids have been napping all at the same time for an hour and a half so far!<br />
6. I grabbed a box of pasta and a jar of sauce while grocery shopping last week, which I NEVER do...but that's what's for dinner tonight!<br />
7. I'm able to teach my oldest son, who is miserable with his cold, to look for the little mercies in his day, and he happily found 3!<br />
<br />
In every season, I will praise Him and in every season I will tell of His good works. Look for His little mercies and I think it will put a smile on your face! (I wish it also acted as concealer under my eyes...but I digress!)<br />
<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-83410810705834221252013-02-05T18:51:00.001-08:002013-02-05T18:51:07.589-08:00Oh, To Stop Comparing and Start Encouraging!
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I’m in a season of life right now that is much akin to being
on a roller coaster blindfolded:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>motherhood.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Just when you think you’ve soared down the highest hill and
can breathe, you are jolted sharply to the right, and then to the left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just when you think you can get used to the
speed, you are slowly clicking your way up the next hill, never knowing when
you’ll drop again. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Yes, that sounds right, doesn’t it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We all feel like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We can be as prepared as any one human can
be, but when our jobs are to nurture little beings that we cannot control,
unpredictability is an inevitable part of our daily equation.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
This unpredictability, this unpreparedness, this wild ride
is par for the course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every one of us
sits in the seat, harnessed in for dear life, with our feet dangling below.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though we all have different experiences,
different children, different environments, one thing is the same: we all have
nurturing hearts and the desire to do our very best for our family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This, my friends, should unite us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This should provoke each and every one of us
to make every effort to encourage each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sadly, though, I feel we often walk around discouraged, watching other
moms “do it better,” or so we think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
read articles about what we <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">should</i> be
doing for our sons to make them into solid leaders, or for our daughters to be
confident young women.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are inundated
with advice on what we should be feeding our kids and how often.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are scolded for letting them have too much
entertainment, and yet criticized for sheltering them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Public school is too rough, private school is
uptight, and home schooling is just weird.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Get them involved, but don’t have them in too many activities. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
The world in which we live in sets us up for failure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We will never please everyone, will never
parent like everyone, and most certainly cannot adapt our parenting techniques
as quickly as the latest expert advice and trends change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So what’s a mom (or dad) to do?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Thankfully, we don’t have to do this alone. Thankfully, we
have someone who sits at the controls of the roller coaster, and who assures
our safety.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thankfully, we have someone
who has promised to lead us through this journey, and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that </i>someone loves our kids more than we do!</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
One of my favorite verses to fall back on when I feel like I
can’t take the twists and turns anymore is Isaiah 40:11:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“He tends his flock like a shepherd: He
gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently
leads those that have young.”</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
In Sunday school two weeks ago, I taught my kids about the
name of God Jehovah Rohi, the Lord my Shepherd.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We talked a lot about sheep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
kids loved to tell me all about how stinky they were, how they were loud, and
how they wandered off all the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
made the analogy clear that we are like sheep, always running away, and God is
our good shepherd, always bringing us back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But then we read Isaiah 40:11 together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“He gathers the lambs <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">in his arms</i>
and carries them <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">close to his heart.</i>”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They thought it was gross and inconvenient to
lug a big, old, smelly sheep that close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You know what?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I agree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The love of God, though, is so amazing, that
He sees past all that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He, being holy,
righteous and just, makes himself our humble shepherd.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s not just “doing his job” but is doing it
with extravagant love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He isn’t
struggling with us as parents, wondering when we’ll ever get this right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is lovingly, gently leading us.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Why do we criticize other parents?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why do we criticize ourselves?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t we trust our Shepherd to lead us (and
others) to green pastures and still waters?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The love our children need, real, agape love, doesn’t come from
attachment parenting, organic food, play dates, or soccer trophies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It comes from the very heart of God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We can have the best intentions and can lay
down the best plans for our little ones, but without God’s love poured into our
hearts as mothers and fathers, we are unable to pour it into our little
ones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We can co-sleep, puree kale, teach
Chinese, and run a co-op, but without love, we’ve gained nothing.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
With this in mind, why not encourage each other rather than
tear each other down?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If someone is a working
mom, let’s encourage her…that’s a tough calling!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If someone is a stay at home mom, let’s
encourage her…those days are long and discouraging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If someone feeds their kids happy meals once
a week, let’s encourage her…she’s making bellies full.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If someone wants to live processed food free,
let’s encourage her…that is a huge time commitment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If someone sends their child to public
school, let’s encourage her…she doesn’t have to cover her child in prayer by
herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If someone home schools their
children, let’s encourage her…it can be challenging and frustrating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is not a contest, this is not a game,
this is real life, and we can live it together.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Let us not compare and wear ourselves down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let us not criticize and confuse the gentle
leading in someone else’s life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let us
not be silent and watch others struggle along.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Let’s be life givers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let’s
accept one another’s different styles and different leadings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let’s celebrate the roller coaster ride,
knowing that just as one of us coasts down a hill, another one of us is taking
a twist, hanging upside, or screeching to a halt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I am a good parent. You are a good parent. Let’s stop
beating ourselves up and start being confident role models for our children,
future parents in the making.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After all,
our gentle Shepherd has us close to his heart and wants the same thing we do:
the very best for our young.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-8746305537299437332013-01-16T11:14:00.003-08:002013-01-16T11:14:35.202-08:00Treasuring Children in This Upside Down Kingdom
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
It happened again. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Upon running an errand with my children, we
heard the ever-so-popular comment: “Boy, you have your hands full,” not once,
not twice, but four times while in the store for 20 minutes.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I had to make a mid-morning run to the store with all four
children in tow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After making sure
everyone’s face was clean, I supervised two kids putting on socks shoes while
wrangling the other two squiggly children to put their respective footwear on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Four coats were on and zipped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Four hats were secured to their heads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Four car-seats were buckled in place, and we
were off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Upon opening the van door, I
discovered we were missing shoes, hats, socks, and somehow an arm had been
de-sleeved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did the best I could to
re-dress the kids to get them in the store.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
We pulled up the cart, baby in front, toddler in back, with each
big boy holding on to a side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They know
the drill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They hardly ever make errands
difficult.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They don’t ask for anything,
don’t whine, don’t run away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The biggest
problem is the getting there…still dressed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My two-year old started singing his rendition of “Polly Wolly Doodle All
the Day,” and the baby started clapping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As we happily walked down an aisle, a man said “Whoa, you have your
hands full!” in a tone much less than encouraging.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I’m sort of used to this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
either get that comment or “Are these all yours?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We pressed on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two aisles later, an older woman said “Oh my
goodness, look at all these children!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Poor mom!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I graciously smiled,
and my kids grew quiet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On our way to
checkout, another little one said “Look mom!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Baby!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To which she replied, “Yes,
and a lot of other kids too!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You sure do
have your hands full, you poor thing.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Finally, at the checkout, the store employee had the double-whammy:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Are all these yours?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yes.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Boy, do you have your hands full!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You guys better be good for mommy!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Now, like I said, I’m sort of used to this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it always had bothered me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, there are days when I don’t sit
down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are moments of frustration
when all I want to do is cry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are
times when one of the kids have to wait for me because I’m doing something with
another, and that gets emotionally challenging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But, truth be told, I felt like this when I had just one!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
When we got home from the store, my 6 year old asked, “Mom,
are you o.k.?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re hands are full and
I think that’s a bad thing.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You see,
people make these comments as if I’m walking around with children who have no
ears, no brains, no common sense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These
strangers’ comments are slowly teaching my children about how society views
children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Poor mom</i>. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What a burden. Don’t
you have any time for yourself?</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Slowly,
these thoughts and comments seep into little minds who have began questioning
their importance to me and to others.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
After my son’s comment, I gathered my boys and we had a big
hug that turned into a cuddle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told
them that my hands <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">were </i>full, but not
the way all those people at the store think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I told them, as I held them tight, my hands were full of love, and joy,
and silliness, and amazing gifts that were just for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
In my short time as a mom, I have learned much about what
society thinks about children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are
a financial burden, a handful, a problem for mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suppose I can view these comments as ways
to sympathize with me, but in reality, I’m not in mourning!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m alive because of my kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately, every time we leave the house,
they are exposed to this rhetoric, and they’re starting to listen and
learn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
My heart was heavy last night as I went to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">How,
Lord, can I teach them that they are not a burden, but a blessing</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The answer came this morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We opened our Bible and the story we were
scheduled to read was “The Friend of the Little Children” taken from various
parts of the Gospels, Matthew 18 and 19, Mark 10, and Luke 18.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love how <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Jesus Storybook Bible </i>put it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After arguing who was the most important in God’s kingdom, the disciples
watched as a group of children ran to Jesus.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“Jesus’ helpers tried to send them away. ‘Jesus doesn’t have
time for you!’ they said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“He’s too
tired.’ But they were wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jesus
always had time for children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Don’t
ever send them away!’ Jesus said. ‘Bring the little ones to me.’”</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Sounds familiar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Poor Jesus, he’s too tired for such a
handful</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can you imagine as the
onlookers watched these energetic little ones climb onto a tired Jesus’ lap
asking him to tell them a story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Boy, does he have his hands full!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Boys and girls, you better be good for him!</i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“Well, after all the laughing and games, Jesus turned to his
helpers and said, ‘No matter how big you grow, never grow up so much that you
lose your child’s heart: full of trust in God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Be like these children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are
the most important in my kingdom.’”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
You should’ve seen the look on my oldest son’s face as I
read these words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was as if relief
had come to his worried mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t
just me who said he wasn’t a burden, but Jesus said it himself!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not to be pitied, but rather I should be
regarded as a very blessed woman! I get to spend my days and nights with the
most important in His kingdom!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of
the time, however, we are received in a very different manner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What an upside down kingdom we live in.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Children <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">are</i> a lot
of work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Remember the 8 shoes 8 socks, 4
coats, 4 hats that lasted about 10 minutes of travel?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In order to have them behave in a store,
there was much training involved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
are tantrums, bad attitudes, and more physical labor than I could have imagined.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But there is joy, laughter, hugs and
kisses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And though they are not always
innocent, and though they are not always wise, they are pure in heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the pure in heart will see God.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I cannot control what people say, but I will relentlessly be the voice
that is constantly whispering the truth in their ears: they are not a burden,
but a gift and the closest thing to real joy and love this side of glory.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;"><o:p> </o:p><span style="color: #001320;">“Children are a gift from the
LORD; they are a reward from him.” Psalm 127:3 NLT</span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-48358088749242844962013-01-08T11:59:00.002-08:002013-01-08T11:59:47.095-08:00Not Just Dreaming But Doing
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Do you ever find yourself going through the motions of life
for months, even years, without any definitive goal except for survival?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is it just me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the end of 2006, our son was born, and about
every 18 months since then we’ve welcomed another lovely addition to our
family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve had a perpetual
toddler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our mounds of laundry grow
larger each year, our bank account smaller.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Our goals have been to do the best we can with what we’ve been
given.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, this non-specific goal
left us near-defeated by the end of our long, busy days, facing the doom of
getting up the next morning to repeat it all over again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Life goes by so quickly that there are
moments that my husband and I look at each other in disbelief that we have all
these kids!</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Now, I have accomplished much in life…before kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I won awards, was always at the top of my
class, held down a job or two at a time, and somehow had time to serve
others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps I used all of my life’s
allotted energy in my earlier years?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yes, energy levels and responsibility levels are different, but there’s
another difference.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I used to set goals.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Before you stop reading and think <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">great, just another post about New Year resolutions</i>, that’s not
what I’m talking about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It just so
happens that at the end of the year, we start reflecting on the good and bad
and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">resolve</i> to change all that went
wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t lose as much weight last
year as before, so I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">resolve</i> to do it
this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nope. That’s just not enough
for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have to roadmap it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
The truth is that I have a responsibility to teach my little
guys and girl (eventually) to set goals for themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Proverbs 29:18 says “Without vision, a people
perish.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we do not know where we’re
going, we’re never going to get there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We can have the best intentions in the world, but they will remain
intentions unless there is a declaration (or resolution), a goal, a plan to
achieve that goal, and a time frame.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is a goal formula I used to follow and it has been responsible for
some great success.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, it’s time to
revive it and pass it on.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Family meeting time!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our
kids loved goal setting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their resolve
was oozing out of their ears. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I’m going
to play baseball everyday and be the best baseball player ever and play on the
Indians.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>Yes, my dear 4-year-old,
that’s a lofty one!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I want to feed all the orphans in the world</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ah-my 6-year-old is a kindred spirit of
mine!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We let them go on and on, enjoying
hearing the high hopes held in the heart of a child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then we explained we’re going to roadmap our
goals and commit to a plan to get us there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Silence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Silence, followed by a
change of goals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Suddenly, they became
more realistic.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Our boys are learning something about change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First, we have to be intentional about what
we want to change or improve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Second, we
must have a plan to accomplish those changes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Third, accountability helps <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">a lot</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
It took awhile, but we listed and planned out our family and
individual goals for 2013.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We listed
several and planned how we’ll get there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We incorporated those wonderful high hopes into a list of things that
they want to accomplish eventually.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead
of playing on the Indians this year, we tweaked our little guy’s goal to something
he can work on to get him there some day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Instead of feeding all the orphans in the world this year, we talked
about what we could realistically do to make an impact in some kids lives.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
One of my goals is to learn how to do everything without grumbling
or complaining.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My plan includes
starting a gratitude journal and writing in it everyday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am using prompts from Ann Voskamp’s “One
Thousand Gifts.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every day I think
through her prompts and list what I’m thankful for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s amazing how practicing gratitude changes
our perception! </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I’m excited about 2013.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I feel like a fog has lifted and survival is no longer our end
goal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While there are days (plenty of
them) when that’s all we can do, I want to run this race the best I can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s hard to run a race wisely when we can’t
see the finish line.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
So, here’s to 2013!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Here’s to goal setting once again!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Here’s to the excitement of future success!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here’s to watching my family accomplish great
things through the grace of God!</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="textphil-3-12"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">“Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at
my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold
of me.</b></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> <span class="textphil-3-13"><sup><span id="en-NIV-29435"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></sup>Brothers and sisters, I do not consider
myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is
behind and straining toward what is ahead,</span> <span class="textphil-3-14"><span id="en-NIV-29436">I press on toward the goal to win the
prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.</span>”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span>Philippians 3:12-14<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-22221306846695542932013-01-03T13:40:00.000-08:002013-01-03T13:40:40.777-08:00Truth Be Told, We Don't Do Sick Well<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Well hello again!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
been awhile.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Somehow I blinked mid-December and when I came to, I
realized it was already a few days into the New Year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Often, the holidays can do this to us…especially
moms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Between the cooking, the cleaning,
the wrapping, the planning, the preparing…it’s like going on
vacation-afterwards, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you</i> need a
vacation!</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
As I write today, I have a fevering baby lying on my
chest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not completely sure, but I
think that we have somehow physically become inseparable within the last week,
as if she could not survive apart from being held close to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But this is the only way she’ll sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And when she’s not sleeping, she’s crying,
with her hoarse little voice and runny nose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And she has to be tired because as we sit here, we can hear a symphony
of coughing all around us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next door is
her 2 year old brother with croup, working hard to get all of that yuck out of
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Behind us are her two older
brothers, both with coughs, spiking fevers, and now viral rashes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite all the noise and interruption, she
is sleeping to the sound of my heartbeat.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
It’s been a rough week around here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My husband had 5 days off of work and we were
planning on catching up on life and getting ahead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So much for that plan!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are about 10 more steps behind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve taken turns for the last week holding
little ones, with very little time spent when no one is in our arms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our backs hurt, our necks are sore, and we’re
just plain tired.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have come up with
some crazy meals around here, pulling together anything remotely healthy that
we could have on the table between crying spells.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And amidst the crying, the coughing, the
sneezing, the fevering, and the vomiting, we found out that someone has been
running up our credit card.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ah,
life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a reason for the saying “when
it rains, it pours.”</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, today my
husband went back to work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today the
morning’s symphonies of coughing and crying were all for me to enjoy
alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But this morning was a little different-a
little more intense.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
This morning I bundled all four runny-nosed, goopy eyed little
ones and piled them into the van to go to the dr.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we were sitting there, crying and coughing
as usual, my two year old tripped and got a bloody nose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No problem. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was holding the crying baby and the crying,
bloody toddler when I look over to discover that my 6 year old was swelling up
and breaking out into a rash, right there in the waiting room!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He started crying because his feet hurt all
of the sudden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hmm…o.k.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least we were in the dr.’s office!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I shifted the other two so I could have a
free arm to hug him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My 4 year old was
quietly watching the fish swim around the tank when, no joke, he went into a
coughing fit that literally wouldn’t stop for the next 15 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ah-we were the picture of health and wholeness!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Truth time: in my heart and in my head, there
was not a good thought to be found.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I love these little guys, but enough was
enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mommy’s sick too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Does anyone care?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>Thank goodness my inward grumbling and
complaining was interrupted by the nurse calling our name.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Four checkups later, we were on our way to the pharmacy at
Target.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I dreaded the trip seeing as the
dr.’s office wasn’t so easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The inner
dialogue started again: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">this stinks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t even have time with my husband
during the holidays because of all of this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I haven’t slept in forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
cold. I’m hungry.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gosh, I can spiral
downward fast!</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
For some reason, everyone seemed to be at Target today at
11:00 a.m.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had never had to park so
far away!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I carried the two younger
ones, one on each aching hip, while the other two walked along like little
ducklings, braving the cold wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two in
the cart, two holding onto the sides, we rushed to the pharmacy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While waiting for our prescription, we
grabbed another humidifier, some mucinex, more ibuprofen, and some Gatorade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My kids were dragging at this point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My poor baby was leaning sideways in her seat,
unable to hold her head up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We paid for everything
and were on our way out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I realized at
that point that I had not stopped moving since I was awakened early this
morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Exhaustion set in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">No, not
yet!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still have lunch to make and kids
to settle down for a rest!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need a cup
of coffee!</i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
It was then I heard this little voice that I love so
much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My six year old looked up at me as
we were walking out of Target and said, “It’s been a really good day today, hasn’t
it Mom?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I looked at him in
disbelief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How in the world could this
be classified as a good day?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hadn’t
had time to even have a glass of water yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m covered in snot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I literally
watched him break out into a big swollen mess as I was holding one crying,
fevering baby and consoling another sick, nose-bleeding child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I haven’t slept in a week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My house is an absolute mess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re almost out of food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I haven’t been able to put the baby down for
7 whole days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I didn’t say
anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I smiled and said “Well buddy,
it could’ve been worse.”</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
That’s when I had to crawl back into my head and yell at
myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">It’s not about you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s about
love.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s easy to love when someone
is lovable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s easy to love your kids when
you have a bedtime to look forward to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s easy to love your spouse when everyone is rested and there is no
crisis to deal with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s entirely a
different story when you’re being pushed to your limit of sanity!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But these little ones are always watching and
trying to figure things out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, my
dear one, it’s been a really good day because we get to be together.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Here’s the truth:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the
Stacks had a messy week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it could be
worse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re not watching our kids
suffer through a hopeless situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
are not alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our bodies will recover.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are blessed by each other and by the home that
we have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are blessed by the amazing
wisdom and optimism that exudes from our little ones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We can choose to dwell in that inner dialogue
where it’s so easy to see the negative, or we can choose to see the good in our
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are rich in love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s what it’s all about.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Happy New Year!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
Stacks <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">will</i> get better, and then
watch out!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are ready for this to be
the best year yet!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Look for the good in
today, love each other, and listen to the little ones in your life! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<o:p><span style="color: purple;"> <span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 9pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">“Have patience with all things, but chiefly have
patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own
imperfections but instantly set about remedying them - every day begin the task
anew."</span></span></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 9pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="color: purple;">-St. Francis de Sales-</span></span></o:p></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div align="center">
</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-40083344020776160042012-12-19T19:19:00.001-08:002012-12-19T19:19:04.493-08:00Joy to the WorldThe tree has been trimmed, the gingerbread house built, the cookies baked. The kids have gathered each morning to hear Scriptures read, preparing our hearts to celebrate Jesus' birth. We walked through Christmas lights, drank hot chocolate, and watched a few Christmas movies. <br />
<br />
And with all the family time, the sowing "meaning" into the season, and the avoidance of many things commercially related to Christmas, I sometimes feel like my kids don't get it. Honestly, some days I feel like I am simply going through the motions myself. <br />
<br />
Christmas is a celebration of a Savior who has come to redeem us and to give us life, <em>life abundantly. </em>We celebrate because Jesus is <em>the</em> way, <em>the</em> truth, and <em>the</em> life. No one can come to the Father except through him. We celebrate because he equipped us with everything we need to live out this life in such a way to honor Him. <br />
<br />
In celebrating these awesome truths, we are reminded of others who don't have this abundance in life. Christmas serves as a great reminder to share the joy of Jesus with others, and to take our resources, (time, talent, and money) to those who need to experience an abundant life. <br />
<br />
Tonight was such a special treat for me. My older two boys and I drove only 15 minutes away, met some friends, and spent the evening at a place called The Malachi House, a home for the terminally ill who would otherwise be spending their last days homeless or in make-shift shelters. This place is a <em>home</em>. It is a home where these precious souls can come and live together during their last days on this earth with dignity.<br />
<br />
We gathered in the chapel and sang Christmas carols to a camera that broadcast our voices and faces to each of the residents' rooms. Most were bed ridden. We filed out of the small chapel to individually visit the residents. As we were exiting, I noticed a small book of prayer requests sitting on the table. I confess, I peaked! Don't worry, I didn't thumb through it. I just looked at the open page. I almost wish I hadn't. Written in poor, weak handwriting were some of the residents' prayer requests. There were only 5 written on the page, and 4 of them contained prayers that their family would visit. My heart broke.<br />
<br />
Abundance? Did these people know of the abundant life that our Savior came to give to us? Whatever their stories, we found them here, spending their last days not among family, but with strangers, suffering through their last days. And yet, they are just as precious to their Maker as you and I. We walked through the home, visited almost every resident. Some told us about their lives. Some were just so flabbergasted that we all came to visit that they wanted to hear about us...well, about our kids anyways! Some were clearly in their last days, unable to move, unable to speak. <br />
<br />
One woman specifically touched my soul with the touch of her hand. She was one of those who didn't have much time left. It was obvious. She was skin and bones, her eyes almost bulging from her face. She couldn't speak. It didn't seem like her eyes could even focus. I wondered, as we were putting our cards and goodies on her table, whether she even knew we were there. Just as we were leaving, her frail hand reached for us. Three of us responded by holding her hand as she struggled to speak. Tears welled up in her eyes, and instantly a realization came to me that we may be the last ones to visit her. We blessed her, told her she was loved, and wished her a Merry Christmas. I do not know her story, I do not know why she was dying. I don't know if she ever knew abundant life. Tonight, we tried to show it the best way we knew how. We left her with gifts, cards, smiles, prayers, and touches. <br />
<br />
We have been talking and teaching our kids about the good news of Jesus. We have been telling them about the world's realities and how we are called to serve others just as Jesus served while he was on this earth. Tonight, I didn't do much talking. Tonight, my boys came alongside me. They sang. They passed out cards. They wished these dear souls possibly their last Merry Christmas. We've served before. I've looked for every opportunity to serve alongside of our children. Tonight was different. Tonight they saw loneliness and sickness. And they weren't scared. They were filled with hope. They loved being able to fill these people's rooms with treats and cards. They liked going in to their rooms "like a big party" and talking with them. They want to know when we're going to go back.<br />
<br />
I asked the boys what their favorite part of tonight was, and my 4 year old said that he liked meeting people who were going to live with Jesus soon. Wow. We got to visit with people who will be in His presence soon, and my kids were so excited to meet them. My 6 year old said singing "Joy to the World" was his favorite, because he wanted everyone to know that Jesus came and because of it there is joy, no matter what. He wants to know what we can do to make sure people know about our joy before they become this sick. Their hearts are willing, and their flesh isn't yet weak.<br />
<br />
Truth be told, I like decorating and baking and snuggling up with just the Christmas lights on, watching a movie with my family. But this year, my favoriate Christmas memory was watching my boys "get" it. <br />
<br />
<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1851030627877553716.post-13285317420501561492012-12-13T13:42:00.002-08:002012-12-13T13:42:19.436-08:00Laying Down Roots
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">“To be rooted is perhaps the most important and least recognized need
of the human soul.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Simone Weil</b></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I love reflecting on life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So often, I find that if I sit back and think through all the random
encounters and unplanned events, there is a theme...a whisper of some
sort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This morning, I reflected on the
past week and I heard that whisper.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
What was the whisper?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Why spoil the surprise?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
In the past week, I have had the pleasure of seeing old
faces, all from different eras of my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A few nights ago, I was able to sit and listen to a woman who knew my
parents (and me!) when I was very little.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She shared the most amazing stories of how she is being used to free gem
mining slaves all around the world and about how she and her husband are
working to raise funds to build a freestanding orphanage in a remote area of <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Nepal</st1:place></st1:country-region>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to hear more and more, and she
shared more and more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we were like
old friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, arguably, she is such
a kind, wonderful woman, and I’m sure she made many people feel the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But she remembered me from when I was very
little.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She knew my dad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She asked about him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had specific memories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt very much that a part of her heart had
somehow been transplanted to me, because my heart is also passionate about seeking
justice and looking after the fatherless.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Just before that interaction, I visited my childhood best
friend and her family as they mourned the loss of her dear father.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I stood in line waiting to give her a hug,
I thought about how often we let years go by before reconnecting with old
friends. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought about how someone who
was such a big part of your life can so easily become a memory. But I also
realized that real friends, good friends, leave their imprint on you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
then, as I stood in my old church and grade school, I was flooded with
memories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was there that I met some
very special people who became my forever friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was there that I know I heard God’s voice
clearly for the first time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was there
when I began to discover my own personal strengths and gifts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was there that the Word of God was poured
into me and my love for it sunk deep into my being.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it was there that my childhood best
friend and I shared such an important part of life together, transitioning from
“child” to “adolescent.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, she’s in a
different transition, and I wanted nothing more than to experience it with her…as
much as I could, at least.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Driving away
my heart grieved for her family, and I was reminded to number my days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And to be thankful for the seasons of life
that formed who I am today.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
A few days before that, I sat in the nursery of my church
listening to very familiar music being performed by the arts team of our old
church family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing seems to affect
me more than music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It can change my
mood in an instant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It can make me
pensive, joyful, or peaceful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And a lot
of the time, it doesn’t just stir emotions, but memories as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That night, the music was sweet, but the
memories were sweeter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remembered a
much more carefree season of life, in my early days of college, when my good
friends and I served our church for these productions, all growing closer to
each other in the process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Actually, one
of the ways I really got to know my husband was by serving our church alongside
of him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That night, I heard the same
voices sing the same songs and I was transported to “the good ol’ days” of
college friends, fun times, and falling in love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And as great as those memories are, there is
a sense of pain in them because the church that was so much a part of our DNA
is no more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know many grieved that
loss and moved on, but for my husband and I, the friends we had at church
became our family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once it dissolved, it
felt like we were kids in the middle of a divorce.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though we maintained many friendships over
the years, it’s just not the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
music was a reminder of that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And yet,
as I sat there slowly succumbing to sadness, I was reminded that God is still good,
and real, and there is no building or mentor or friend or program in the world
that could ever diminish his greatness and His love for us that we continued to
experience outside of that family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
addition to all that, His Word says that He sets the lonely in families.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And so He has!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had we not been moved from there to where we are
now, we’d be missing out on a whole new church family that we have grown to
love immensely, more than we could have imagined!</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p>So, what’s the whisper?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have never felt like I belonged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My mother left, I changed schools, churches, friends, surroundings…but I
am rooted in something much deeper than all of that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am rooted in love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And those roots are spread out long and
strong around the region.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is this
genuine love that connects me with a woman who knew me as a small child, and
who is now inspiring and provoking me in her everyday, adventurous life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is that love that surpassed years of
distance between childhood friends, allowing me to mourn with someone who I
realize is very much a part of my own heart. It is God’s love that reminds me
that in the pain of separation from a family, there is One who is closer than a
brother, and He redeems situations and restores friendships…and brings new ones
that are unimaginable and breathe life into me every day!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was my Maker’s genuine love that whispered
my name in each era of my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
His voice wooing my heart and giving me His for the world when I was very
young.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was His voice telling me what
kind of strengths He knit me together with and who I was to become.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was His voice teaching me how to love Him
alone, and not rely on other people or experiences in place of His presence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today, it is His love that speaks to my heart
and says to me that though I have never felt like I belonged, I have real roots
that are strong.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
A friend of mine encouraged me with a thought one day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That thought is that we are sojourning
through this life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sojourning!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love that!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yes!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is not “it” for
us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is not to this world that we
belong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And yet, we live here, with real
people, situations, passions, and losses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So while we’re sojourning, there is plenty of time for us to love others
and pursue justice on their behalf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To
me, there’s no better use of our time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As a mom, there’s nothing better to model to my children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want them to learn how to gaze heavenward,
knowing how to fully love, and to use what God has placed inside their own
unique little bodies to serve others while we’re sojourning, however
challenging that may be.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">“I pray that out of
His glorious riches He may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your
inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I pray that you, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">being rooted and established in love, </i>may have power, together with
all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the
love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge-that you may be
filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ephesians 3: 16-19<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04054010514737063179noreply@blogger.com0