Day {Accidental} 40: I Think I Would Like A Tail

Today has been a fun one; full of laughter, clearance shopping, and a 3D extravaganza.  Okay, coveting just a wee bit too {just mildly. Okay, not really}.

Along with spending time with a good friend this morning {yay for a well-behaved, sharing 2 1/2 year old ~ I just fall in love with her a little more when she’s such a gem with her friends}, we hit Aldi’s {love!} and scored a fantabulous storage system for Ali’s room {in her new room, of course…in the new house…wherever, whenever that might be}, and then swung by Target to scope out their after-Christmas sales.  We walked away with a few fun, cheap deals.  Like a killer 6-pack of mini stamps for a buck, an adorable Christmas tea-set and a gorgeous trio of shiny, silver flowers that I can’t wait to stick in the wall {again, for the new house, of course…blah blah blah} for $3.50.

Oooh, I love a good deal!

I also snagged a funky little purple squirt bottle that, upon arriving home, received a dollop of conditioner and then got loaded with water.  We now own a handy-dandy curly hair tamer than I fully intend to use every time that fuzzy, sleepy head lifts from it’s pillow.  You should see my daughter’s hair when she wakes up…it’s wild. 

But the taming, she comes.

Because we were out and about at lunch time, we splurged {not monetarily…but caloriearily.  Ha.  That’s so not a word} and hit the Burger King drive-thru.  We shared burgers and fries.  Shhh, don’t tell anyone.  It’s so good…and yet, so bad.  We eat fast food seldom enough that it actually tastes good when we do indulge.  But sure enough the sneaky after-shock knowledge of fat and calorie consumption just steals all the enjoyment.  Blech.

Speaking of stealing the joy, Ali is currently very needy.  Not in the clingy sense of the word, but simply in regard to frequency of use.  Every few minutes she’s saying she “needs” something.  Everything, actually.  From a peanut butter sandwich to a Christmas martini shaker, she’s apparently in need. 

“Mommy, what is this?”.  “It’s a green storage tote, darling”.  “I n-e-e-d a tote, mommy”.  “No, love, you don’t n-e-e-d a tote.  You’ll survive without it, I promise”.  “But I n e-e-d a tote”…and on it goes {add whiney sound for more accurate interpretation}“

I’m beginning to think mommy n-e-e-d-s a timeout.  A very long one.  Do I get a glass of wine during time-out.  Just askin’.

Before Ali gets cranky {when tired} she get a little loopy.  And talkative.  She told me on the way home that {paraphrased} “she was going to fly soon in an airplane to Nineveh, go to a store to buy me ice-cream, asked if I wanted to join her, and then promptly told me I couldn’t go.  I was too big.

After the long, albeit funny, trek home {sometimes 15 minutes in the car seems like a Transamerican journey}, with Ali needing a tic-tac like her little life depended on it, it was 2:45pm. 

I just love coming home right in time for naptime.  It’s wickedly delicious.  A fun, full morning…and then peace. 

Aaaah, nap time, how I love thee.

Skip forward a few hours.

We had a friend over for dinner {actually a guy friend of my baby sister’s – super, nice guy!} and supped on grilled lamb with mint jelly, steamed veggies and roasted, rosemary potatoes.  Oh, food.  Glorious food.

I often marvel at how much God must love us to have given us such a broad selection of foods…sweet, sour, savory, salty, spicy. 

And to think He could have just created us to hook up to a nutrition pipe {a master NG tube, if you will} and be nourished that way.  Boring and purely practical. 

But instead He gave us tongues and taste-buds, the ability to enjoy different textures and temperatures, and the capability to assemble stunning food creations and combinations.  How magical is that?!?  The whole concept of being able to enjoy food, not to mention the joy of socializing over a meal together, is brilliant. 

Food, as we experience it, is totally a gift from above.

I digress.  As usual.

My younger sisters, Ruthie’s friend {Twistin, as my daughter calls him} and I then slipped away to experience the movie, Avatar, in 3D.  After my dad and hubby saw it a few days ago, we’ve been counting down the days until it was “our turn” tonight.

Goodness gracious me.  What an absolutely marvelous movie.  I don’t even know where to start on this one… so I’ll close with these incredibly deep thoughts:

I suddenly have a strong desire to sprout cute, pointy ears…to sport magical, luminescent freckles…and holy moly, they make tails look hot.

I’m thinking I’d really like a tail. 

Is that weird? 

{Don’t answer that}

Day 39: A Michael Inspired Moment

We’re on our way to Grand Rapids, the sun is shining, the kids are happy, organic fruit sticks abound…it’s a beautiful thing. 

We’re excited for a few hours away as a family.

I look to the right and there’s this wild, hairy dude driving a complete junker of a truck with all sorts ridiculousness taped {yes, literally taped} to the moving vehicle.  I’m talking laundry baskets, a mattress, chairs, lamps, shelves, and a myriad of other less-than-quality items.  I cannot believe my eyes and scoff out loud.  This guy is the epitome of a hillbilly.  And my mind wanders further.  In less jovial, light-hearted places.  I quietly judge and sneer, in a nasty, self-righteous way.

As I start typing today’s journal {so like…now}, Joe is flipping through the stations and lands on one that strikes a chord in me. 

First I just laugh because it’s one of “those” songs – one that brings back fun memories of younger years and is scarily easy to belt the lyrics out to in a loud, head-bopping karaoke kinda way – and then I stop.  Hmm, interesting words.  I was just thinking about that.

I think this might be the first time God has ever spoken to my heart through Michael Jackson.  And I think I’m glad about that.  But I shouldn’t be.  If he could speak to Balaam the prophet through an ass {sorry, a donkey}, then hey…MJ’s not out of the question.

Don’t you just love our unusual, unorthodox, can’t-possibly-put-Him-in-a-box God?

So…the radio.

How profound are the words of Jackson in this one…”I’m starting with the {wo}man in the mirror…I’m asking him {her} to change his {her} ways…if you want to make the world a better place take a look at yourself and make a change”.

What strikes me about this song, in this moment, is the fact that I had just been thinking about something that I need to work on as it started to play.

I have a mean-streak.  It doesn’t tend to rear it’s head with my friends and family as much as it does with complete strangers, without them having a clue.

I think mean things.  I judge.  I assume.  I joke.

And it struck me today how that must break the Father’s heart.  In the same way hearing someone say something negative about one of my kids, no matter how dreadful their behavior may be at the time, it hurts my heart. 

Every person alive is His creation, made in His image, the apple of His eye.  No, many {most, actually} do not behave in a way that reflects their Father, the fact remains…they are His.

And far too often I do not treat them as such.  While my actions are not necessarily unsavory, my thoughts often are.  And those can be just as destructive and damaging as the expression of those thoughts {maybe not to them directly…but to me, and to my heart}. 

I’m surrounded by people I wish would change.  I’m often put-off by the repulsive behavior of others.  I’m quick to point out their short-comings and can be so heartless when I see the painful consequences of foolish decisions being manifested in someone’s life.

But in the wise words of the late white-gloved, crotch-grabbing Jackson, change starts with me.

Just one of many things I sense will be under the knife this next year.  Surgery sucks.  But it is so incredibly vital.  While the removal of an apses can be painful, leaving it to fester causes much deeper damage and pain in the long-run. 

I want this ugly infection removed.

And it starts with taking a long, hard look in the mirror.

“Don't pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults— unless, of course, you want the same treatment. That critical spirit has a way of boomeranging. It's easy to see a smudge on your neighbor's face and be oblivious to the ugly sneer on your own. Do you have the nerve to say, 'Let me wash your face for you,' when your own face is distorted by contempt? It's this whole traveling road-show mentality all over again, playing a holier-than-thou part instead of just living your part. Wipe that ugly sneer off your own face, and you might be fit to offer a washcloth to your neighbor”.  Matthew 7:1-5 {The Message}

Day 38: Perks

I have found that God makes a wonderful personal shopping assistant.  Not to mention, parking assistant.

Maybe it’s just because I get giddy about fun, silly little things and like to give God the credit for them.  Shouldn’t He get it anyway?  If scripture says every good and perfect gift is from above, shouldn’t that include fabulous parking spots and scandalously good deals?

I guess it simply confirms the delicious truth that He loves me. 

And that I’m His favorite. 

You are too.  Just don’t tell anyone I told you.

I digress.

Perks.  For instance, today, I ventured out to the mall in the hopes that I could snag a fur-lined hooded vest from Old Navy’s 60% off racks that I’d spotted on a friend yesterday {I love, love, love vests…and all of mine are in the storage unit}…on a blustery, snowy, slushy day…with 2 children by my side.  Make that 3.  Becks accompanied me with our niece, Zuri.

Chances of finding one at the very end of the post-Christmas weekend were slim, and I was half expecting to have a stressful, unpleasant {kid} experience, but it was glorious!

Apart from having a woman ask me if I was missing a little girl {she had stopped Alathea as she snuck out the door} – gulp! – it went seamlessly.  I even walked away with the exact item I’d hoped for, a gorgeous furry vest in the perfect color, in my size.

Aaaah, I’m feeling the love!

On another note, there are only 3 days until January 1st, 2010.  I have informed the friends we’re bringing in the New Year with that at 12:01 on Friday morning I will be indulging in a decadent cup of coffee and whatever chocolate I can lay my eager mitts on.  And then I may just repeat the process.  Again and again.

But, maybe not.

I’m just a wee bit terrified to reintroduce two things I seem to completely lack any sort of control over.  A true choco-coffee-holic I seem to have become over the past few months.

And that’s one of the reasons I love a New Year!  Fresh beginnings provide such a stunning source of hope and encouragement. 

I like them even more than I like Mondays!  Yes, I’m odd.

In the same way the stunning flakes that have fallen from the sky all day have left the horizon clean, white and sparkling…a New Year wipes the slate clean and provides a magnificent new canvas for us to apply the bright colors of hope and glittery sprinkles of joy upon. A fresh start always provides a host of new colors to work with; a brand new palette of possibilities, if you will.

I’m all about new.  Hope and joy are simply the perks of being His.

Day 37: Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

We all know it, we all say it: “it is better/more blessed to give than to receive”. 

But how often do we practice it?  

My 2 year old got to practice this fine art of giving this morning alongside her wonderful daddy.

During our 4th community outreach/service project in Alma, we bundled up and gathered once again at the trailer park we have “taken on” as our ministry focus.

Heading out, we were armed with envelopes that contained $10 grocery certificates and little cards that simply state:

U R &{picture of a knot} 4 GOT 10

J <3 U

Get it?  “You Are Not Forgotten”. 

That is our heart.  Simply that they would know that they haven’t been forgotten, by God, and by a bunch of misfits who are taking on their trailer park.

While the plan had been to break up into our usual 3 groups and canvas the park, by the time we arrived in Alma, Aiden was hungry. 

A hungry boy + 22* weather = very unhappy boy.

So while I stayed in the car and nursed him, Joe took Ali and their bundle of envelopes and headed out. 

Oh how it blesses a mother’s heart to see her child holding out an envelope to a stranger on their doorstep while sweetly saying “Merry Christmas, Happy New Year”.  Joe would introduce himself and Ali, and explain that they were simply wanting to bless people with some post-Christmas gifts.  No strings attached.  No church advertisement.  No preachy tracts.  Just a reminder of Christ’s love.

What an important lesson to learn at such a tender age. 

We’re learning just how much our children mirror us, our attitudes about life and people and situations.  They grow to love what we love, treasure what we treasure, and shun what we shun. 

What are we teaching her, without even meaning to?  What intricate life lessons is she learning by simply watching us function on a daily basis?  What are we showing her to hold dear by making a priority in our own lives?  What are we setting as a standard in the way she sees others…in how she views herself…in how she thinks about God?

And sometimes what we see, and hear, in them is scary. 

Alathea will repeat, days after the fact, phrases that we have said with the exact intonation we used.  It’s a little odd when she sternly tells me not to touch her drink {in her spill-proof sippy-cup} because I’ll spill it.  Or when I see her scolding her baby dolls non-stop, putting them in time-outs and then spanking the snot out of them {no really, we don’t do that.  Spank, we do…when it fits the crime, but beat the ^%@& out of her, we don’t}.  Does she really see our discipline of her that way?  Or when she repeats to her cousin what we’ve said to her, in a very unkind fashion.  “Don’t touch that…don’t do that!!”.  Did we really say it like that?  And gosh, does it really matter?  Sometimes we just don’t pick our battles very well…and then we see them showing up in her later.

Scary, yes, but also incredibly exciting.  What an opportunity we have to impact this little life, which will in turn impact the many lives around her {no doubt, in profound ways}.

I’m trying to use this reality as a powerful reminder to “hold my thoughts captive”.  Because my thoughts profoundly impact my actions and words, and seeing the way those impact my daughter’s behavior, I need to be ever so careful with what I allow to occupy my mind.  I want to be the kind of woman that I desire my daughter to be one day – and apart from the grace of God, it’s up to me {us} to build that foundation in her.

Today was a sweet reminder of this truth.  When I reach out to others, no matter their walk of life, no matter their financial or social status, I show my children that loving on people is far more important than fearfully {and selfishly} fending for ourselves.  We pay it forward.  In doing this, we also set her up to see the way God blesses and provides for us in the process.  It’s a beautiful cycle, and how blessed she will be to see it from a young age. 

This is one of the greatest gifts my parents gave me and I can’t wait to pass it on.

Looking back I can clearly see the impact their example has had on my adult, married life.  Whenever Joe and I have been in a tight spot, especially financially, it has {usually} been pretty easy for me to declare, “don’t worry…God will provide!!  He always does!”, simply because I saw Him do it, over and over again, when I was a child and young adult! 

I want that faith and joy and peace for my children too.  And it starts with the realization that it is our job to be generous with the little God has given us; that it is indeed better to give than to receive.  When we make it our passion to love on others and bless them…God faithfully provides for us and blesses us even more abundantly than we could have ever imagined.

We have tasted of that so richly this past month.  Crazy generosity being poured out over here!

When we got home from our ‘outreach’ in Alma this afternoon, while I was unbuckling her from her carseat, Ali tenderly touched my face and said “you’re precious, mommy”.  I just melted. 

Oh, how I adore that girl! 

I am so incredibly thankful that God is helping us navigate this rocky road of parenthood, and that as long as our eyes are fixed on Him, their little eyes constantly being on us isn’t such a scary thing after all.

Day 34, 35 and 36: Blurry

What a crazy few days it’s been.  Good.  And, sadly enough, not so good.  Bad, in fact.

Christmas eve day was fun, tying up loose ends, attending the Christmas eve service, reconnecting with a precious friend, enjoying dessert {cheese ball} and coffee {tea} at my big sister’s house, joined by my mom-in-law and her husband (oh, how I admire my mum’s passion to include people and love on them}.  And as tradition would have it, we each opened one gift.

Christmas day was quite possibly the most unusual Christmas I’ve ever experienced. 

While it started off well, kids slept in, tea, muffins, cleaned dining-room and kitchen for lunch prep, lounged in living room and read the story in Luke of Jesus' birth {Ali even asked nana to please read more}, and proceeded to enjoy the gift-opening process.

We got a Wii for Christmas!!  From us.  {We were given a gift-card and scored a killer deal at Walmart, so we snagged one, wrapped it up and stuck it under the tree – at literally no cost to us, whoot whoot}.

Despite my best intentions, we did not make a birthday cake for Jesus.  There’s always next year, I suppose.

We were indoctrinated into the Wii community by a few games of Boom Blox Bash Party.

Cheesecake & Coffee {honey-based-carrot-cake & tea}.

Occasional naps on the couches once the kids were down.

We celebrated the arrival of new life {after a long awaited pregnancy of good friends of ours}, and we celebrated the news of more stunning, much anticipated life being created within the belly of yet another couple {well, just ‘hers’} we adore.  God is good!

And yet, throughout the day there were twinges of irritation, in people’s voices, in the looks they gave, in the argument that erupted after dark.  Something was just off this Christmas, and it broke my heart. 

While there are clearly distinct issues that need to be dealt with here – I don’t know one family who doesn’t have issues – it was simply a fierce reminder of how incredible my family truly is.  As this was a FOREIGN occurrence.  And how phenomenally thankful for this I am!  I hate conflict, and yet, in order to get the gigantic purple elephant out of the living room, I’m willing to dig in where needed.

Still.  It breaks my heart.  Because It was Christmas, for Pete’s sake {who is Pete, any way?}.  And I hate conflict.

But, something good that has come out of this mess is the new-found compassion and protection I sense towards my mama.  When I heard her crying last night, I could no longer hold my tongue.

It’s as though someone else taking issue with her has triggered something deep within me and I just want to protect her and hug her and love her and speak ever so kindly to her.

Interesting, eh?

This Christmas was bittersweet.  And the fact that it was anything but 100% sweet has me reeling.  Argh.

God continues to challenge me and encourage me and stretch me out of my comfort zone.  And while I’m in the midst of working through some big family stuff right now, I’m choosing to believe that God has redemption and growth in store for even this frustrating situation.  He always does.

My heart is heavy at not having this issue resolved, but I need to wait on His timing, listen to His heart on the subject and speak when and how He directs.  And patience isn’t my strong point. 

Oh, how far we all have to go.  More growing.  Much more growing.

Good thing we’re family.  And good thing my fabulous family rocks my world.  And good thing God is so much bigger than my wonderful world. 

No doubt, we’re in good hands.

Day 33: Ooooh, Sparkly!

I have had far too much fun than is appropriate, for a woman of my age, with a glue gun, glitter spray and sequins.

Mom and I have been creating the most magical fairy tutus, wands and head “gear” for Alathea and my niece, Zuri, for Christmas.  And they are practically edible! 

I cannot wait to see the girls flitting around the living room in their little outfits on Christmas day {photos to come}. 

I have, in the process, rediscovered my passion for the uber-useful glue gun and am racking my brain for ideas and objects I can glue together.  And then spritz with glitter.  It’s rather pathetic, really. 

No, I’m not 8.

Maybe if I schnazzed up the Christmas tree with some glitter spray we could do away with the heinous spider-web-like lametta?  Hmmm.

Speaking of ‘the’ tree…I cannot wrap my brain round the fact that tomorrow is Christmas Eve.  Where did 2009 go?

And how did so many gifts get under that tree?

I’m floored by the fact that just a month ago I was thinking how “slim'” this Christmas would be in the gift department, taking the opportunity to focus rather on the true reason for the season.  And while that focus hasn’t shifted…I’m stunned by the generosity we’ve seen pour in from completely different sources.  Even today we received a Christmas card from a woman Joe worked with, that I have met only once {briefly}, with Meijer gift cards inside.  Just when my head stops spinning from one random act of kindness, we get hit with another. 

We are loving being in a position of “need” as it so perfectly places us in a posture to receive God’s extravagant provision.

Speaking of need, I’m in need of some wisdom! 

As mention a few days ago, I’m not feeling quite like myself lately.  For the past week or two, I’ve been ridiculously fragile, defensive and emotional.  Yesterday Ali spend 2 hours quietly {and at times, not-so-quietly} playing in her bed instead of napping.  Aiden decided he didn’t need a nap yesterday afternoon either.  An hour before I was schedule to meet some girlfriends I hadn’t seen for a while, I was in desperate need of a shower {having not been afforded the opportunity before then} and my sister decided to hop in.  Get this: I broke down and cried when my hubby finally got home and then had to leave again.  Because I needed a shower.  It appears I need a little more than a shower.  Therapy, maybe?

I have no clue what is wrong with me.  I’m super emotional, even jealous at times at the silliest little exchanges between loved ones {that don’t include me}, and am painfully aware of my newly acquired super-sensitivity.  The last time I dealt with this nonsense was when I was diagnosed with PMDD {Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder} and was on a birth control that was making the emotional toll worse.

The thought of having to go through this – and put my loved ones through this…the walking on eggshells and picking up the pieces – all over again, makes me shudder.  It’s actually quite terrifying.  I have really enjoyed have a consistent level of sanity and emotional steadiness over the past few years and have no interest in returning to that rollercoaster ride.

So.  Need some wisdom as to what to do.  I do not like feeling like this, nor do I like picking fights with my husband and sisters over petty things – it’s pathetic.  Crying about showers rates pretty low on my list of fun, daily activities, too.  And this just isn’t me.  I actually really enjoy life, and am pretty good at not sweating the small stuff.  But right now, the small stuff is making me cry.  Ugh.

But.  2010 is just around the corner.  I’ve conquered this beast before.  My husband endured it beside me, and he will again, if need me.  We’ve been through the wringer this past year, and come our stronger and more confident than ever in the faithful God we serve.

He has most definitely glued us more tightly together through these tough times…and I’m really enjoying the glitter He’s been spritzing our lives with these past few weeks!  I’m especially excited for the big, shiny piece of bling in the shape of a shield that will be {re}delivered in 2.5 weeks.

And if all the sweet, small, light-reflecting particles He’s sprinkling on our lives right now are a testament of the love, faithfulness and goodness of a Father to His kids…then bring on the bling! 

Ooooh, sparkly!

{Update: still no sweets or chocolate ingested – yay – on purpose, that is.  Drank almost an entire cup of tea with sugar today, by accident – sorry, Rebecca, I thought it was mine and was so busy talking I didn’t realize it tasted sweet.  No lie.  Excited, but not delirious, to have sweets again in a week.  Definitely delirious to drink coffee again.  Oooh Aaaaah.  Already pondering what I need to give up next.  This journey is so far from over}

Day 32: Basement Diving

I felt like a criminal yesterday. 

Just slightly.

My husband was hired to “take out the trash” and we were invited to pick through it – if we dared – for any possible hidden gems. 

Allow me to explain.

We know a woman who married a man.  And despite the rhythm of the last sentence, she didn’t swallow a horse to catch a fly.

They left the State unable to sell her house, so they rented it out.  In one word: disastrous.  While things appeared to go smoothly at first, after 6 months of no rent, and my hubby being hired to write a report and fix things they had broken, they were eventually “escorted” out by the police.

Needless to say, they had trashed the place.  And then left in a hurry.

So my hubby, being the stellar handyman that he is, was hired to clean the place out and get it ready for a short sale.  Before he and the 2 guys he’s hired sweep the place tomorrow and ship it off to the junkyard, we were encouraged to take a peek.

As you may know, I’m not too proud to turn down the offer to dumpster dive {or in this case, basement dive}.

While I wasn’t eager to rummage through the remaining garbage and chaos left behind…we did find some delightful nuggets within.

Namely:

• a fabulous Columbia winter coat, perfect size and color {grey/orange} for Joe - and he needed a coat as his is somewhere in our storage unit – yay, God!
• A pink animal print tent for little lady A
• An Elmo version of dance dance revolution {ha!}
• A pink, toddler winter coat
• A schnazzy hairdryer and other miscellaneous bathroom goodies
• A sturdy gun safe {will be needing that again soon!}
• A weight set {should be using that soon}

…just to mention a few of our fabulous finds!

After heavily sanitizing and bleaching things, we’re good to go!

I think it’s just hilarious that we have been so lavishly provided through the most unorthodox, delightfully unusual avenues.

Good thing we’re open to spontaneity and surprises!  God is just sneaky like that and I certainly don’t want to miss out on His crazy generosity and provision! 

What’s next?

I cant wait to find out!!

Day 31: What if…

What if God always gave us what we wanted, when we wanted it?

What if.

What if God didn’t, in fact, know us better than we think we know ourselves…but simply indulged our every whim?

What if.

What if we didn’t have an awesome, big, sovereign {and at times, sneeky} God who has incredibly magnificent plans up his {almighty} sleeves that just can’t be thwarted despite our constantly wandering hearts and indulgent ways.  We may take a more colorful route than intended at times, but as long as we allow Him to take the wheel, nothing can thwart His plan for our lives {phew}.

By this time today, 10 years ago, I was engaged.  It was the morning of my parent’s 25 wedding anniversary. I was 18, excited about the new millennium, and about to make one devastatingly destructive decision. 

I had walked away from the Lord a few years earlier, choosing rather to meander down what became a slippery slope of self-loathing, lying, shoplifting and promiscuity.  My life was a mess.

My fiance and I had dated for 3 years, and seeing that felt like a lifetime for someone of our age {he was 5 years older than me}, the next logical step was to get married.  Right?

Wrong.

A few short months later, after he returned to South Africa, our relationship fizzled for the final time.  An email shortly after valentine’s day left me single, devastated, and paying for a ring I no longer cared to wear.

My world as I knew it began to crumble.

What if that’s where the story ended?

What if.

While God allowed me to me smashed to smithereens, he lovingly picked up all the pieces.  After all, it was the only way He could reconstruct the mess I had made of my life.

Today I celebrate 10 years of divine intervention, of growing, of learning to trust Him to take the painful shards of my past and recreate an exquisite mosaic of His goodness.  A trophy of His grace.

I’m learning that it’s all about surrendering our past to His resourceful hands, living today to the max, and trusting Him fully with our future.

Confidence in the sovereignty of God is crucial to our trusting Him. If there was a single event in all of the universe that could occur outside of God's sovereign control then we couldn’t really trust Him. His love may be infinite, but His power would be limited and His purposes could be thwarted…so we couldn’t fully trust Him.  I’m relieved that’s not the case.

But scripture clearly tells us otherwise:

In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps (Proverbs 16:9)

Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails (Proverbs 19:21)

There is no wisdom) no insight, no plan that can succeed against the Lord (Proverbs 21:30)

Nothing is so small or trivial that it escapes the attention of God's sovereign control; nothing is so great that it is beyond His power to control it. 

And you better believe He is faithful to use every little thing we surrender – including an ugly, messy past involving date rape and stealing – to His glory.

Aren’t you glad we can answer the many “what if’s” with a resounding “whatever!”?

I’m so thankful that I can rest in the knowledge that as long as I’m putting one foot in front of the other, despite not being able to see more than 5 feet ahead, the one who walks beside me knows exactly where He’s leading me. 

And it’s sure to be a stunning adventure, with an even more glorious destination! 

Care to join me?

Day 30: What’s Up?

Well, I’m so glad you asked!  Here’s the nutshell version:

• Wake up to a visit from one of the Troopers at my husband’s post {Bridgeport} who bears an extravagantly generous gift from his brothers and sisters in blue {in check form}.  What an incredibly meaningful {and practical} gift from people he only worked alongside for a few short months.  We’re still making futile efforts to scrape our jaws off the floor.  God is good.
• Feeling a little off.  Especially with my hubby.  Cant quite put my finger on it but its bugging me that we feel out of sync.  Feeling strangely fragile.  Is it simply shifting post-natal hormones?  Or a stealthy attack from the enemy of our souls…a lousy attempt to steal our joy?  Or both?  I’m praying about this.  Can’t stand feeling amiss like this.
• Struggling a bit with my m-i-l and the new husband she acquired along her out-of-State travels.  Odd couple.  Wrestling with where and how to establish healthy boundaries, being wise and generous, while honoring both her and my hubby.
• Loving the smell of coffee.  Appreciating my copious cups of tea.  Needing to drink more water.  Not really missing the sweets.  Enjoying feeling in control of my cravings.  While others indulge in chocolate cake and Christmas cookies, I munch on delicious peppers and hummus.  Hmm mm good.  I bogart an entire ziplock baggie of peppermint bark {ooooh} for 12:01am on January 1st.  I sense an overdose brewing.
• Escaped to my sister and b-i-l’s house for the live Survivor finale.  Thoroughly enjoy more goggle-box watching than I’ve done in the last few months.  Feeling refreshed.
• In shock that Christmas lingers a mere 5 days away.  Whoo hoo…I love Christmas.
• 10 days to New Year…I love New Years too {but for completely different reasons}.
• Life is delicious!

Day 29: Let’s Try This Again…

December 19th, 2008 couldn’t have come any faster.

After 19 weeks of grueling State Police Academy, my hard-working, determined, unbelievably sexy husband finally got to don the sharp blue uniform of a Michigan State Trooper, shake hands with the Governor {yeah, about that…}, and get sworn in.  And then the moment I had most been looking forward to…I had the privilege of pinning his badge on.

It was one of his proudest moments.  And mine.

6 short months later, he was turning his badge, uniform and gun back in.  His glorious reward for the blood, sweat and tears poured into this dream job was suddenly ripped from his clutches.  I didn’t even get the chance to meet his coworkers. 

We were left devastated and reeling.  And unemployed.

Enter God.  Almighty saver of days {not to mention the world}.

While the last 6 months {well, seeing academy was tough for everyone involved…lets just say the past 17 months} have been tough.  To put it mildly.  We’ve faced some of our darkest days.  But we’re also experienced some of the sweetest moments together.

My mom has always said: if you want to see “God the healer”, you need to be in a position where healing is needed.  Sadly, that involves someone not being well.  If we want to experience “God the provider”, we have to be in a position where we need to be provided for.

These past several months have been hard.  They have been long.  They have been frustrating.  But they have also been filled to the brim with glorious, miraculous moments of divine provision and healing. 

I would not trade the past few months for comfort, ease or money any day.

We have seen characteristics of our God that we have never encountered so intimately.  His abundant provision.  His incredible healing {of our son}.  His sweet grace.  His delightful sense of humor.

While parts of me have deeply struggled with – and at times, resented – the past few months.  I have LOVED them.

I know.  Maybe I’m a sucker for punishment.  But really, it just boils down to this:  when I can’t SEE God’s HAND, I’m learning to TRUST His HEART!

And on this snowy 19th of December, 2009, just 6 days from Christmas, and just 365 days from the first time my hubby earned his dream job…we chomp at the bit.  Not because we’re getting antsy.  Or hungry, for that matter.  But because we’ve heard from the “big wigs”, it’s official. 

On January 11th, my husband will again don the blue uniform of a Michigan State Trooper.

Whoot whoot.

What astounds me about the timing is this: the first time I did a 40 day fast, 7 years ago, something beautiful happened.  I was praying about the man the Lord would have me marry.  I was tired of being single, antsy that God would just smite me for all the stupid things I’d done in my life and as punishment, lump me with a grumpy, ugly, hairy old man.  After all, that’s what I felt I deserved. 

I was over fretting about it and needed to completely surrender it to God.  So I did.  And on day 40, I received my first email from a young man I had just recently met at a Michael W. Smith concert.  His name?  Why, it was Joseph Martin Bruce McMillan. 

And again…these 40 days are bringing about beautiful things.  God is so ridiculously faithful to honor our small, silly {un-chocolately, decaffeinated} efforts that it just takes my breath away.

While we don’t know what 2010 holds, we do know who holds it. 

And for this reason alone, we are geeked beyond belief!

Day 28: Home Sweet Home

I did not think I would say this.

Especially as a 28 year old mother of two, living at home {again} with my husband, but…

I couldn’t wait to get home to my house this morning. 

My parents house, that is.

Because for right now {and for the past 6 months}, it is our house too.  Our home sweet home.

We were invited by a sweet couple we know to stay in their house while they cruise the Caribbean. 

Of course we would rather have stayed in their cabin while they cruised the Caribbean, that wasn’t an option. 

So their house was the next best thing.

This is not the first time we have been offered an “escape”, and we so appreciate the sentiment.  The sympathy people feel for our current situation is very thoughtful.  And we understand why they think we would jump at the opportunity to live outside of our shared room/nursery/office, community-style boarding in my parents house.

And oddly enough, I’ve turned down the last two offers to have a temporary home to ourselves for a few days.

And now I know why {kudos to a mother’s instinct!}

I have a curious, adventurous two year old who lives to explore her world.  And other peoples homes.  Other people, inevitably, have pretty breakables, edible Christmas tree ornaments, and glitter within reach. 

This makes for a somewhat stressful “escape”.  After a few hours, I wish to escape from our escape.

I also happen to have a 4 month old who is getting terribly bored with sitting and laying down.  He would much rather spend his expanding awake time by stretching his little legs and standing.  Rattles, teethers and other baby bling are also needed now to keep him stay entertained.  This involves being held and played with the entire time, or lugging all his enormous baby accoutrements along.  This is not an option, really.

Needless to say, this makes for a somewhat exhausting
“escape” and, after a few hours, I wish even more to escape from our escape.

Oh, to be back in our comfortable {albeit cramped} quarters where the toddler runs free {mostly} and the bambino is entertained.

Why did we leave here again?  Oh yes, to get away from all the other people {aka. 3 other family members} and to enjoy some alone time.

If it hadn’t taken Joe ages to get Alathea to bed {she cried and cried her little eyes out because she didn’t want to sleep in this strange house, in the big, big girl bed} and if I hadn’t fallen asleep part-way through the movie {hmmm, romantic}, I’m sure it would have been fabulous.

It probably would have helped to have taken some food.  And milk.  And clothes.  I threw our toothbrushes, their diapers and Aiden’s meds into a bag and we walked out the door.  In my stubborn effort to not feel the stress of having to pack a ton of stuff to drive down the road {they only live 5 minutes from my parents}, we were hungry and disgruntled.  And I smelled like baby vomit.

So we’re back again.  We boycotted the remainder of our “escape” for the simple joys of home.

When I walked grumpily past my mom this morning, antsy{hungry} children in my arms, bags on my shoulders, looking rather forlorn…my mom smiled sweetly and with a wink said, “welcome home, sweetie”.

What a great reminder last night was.  While I may not be in my own home, while I didn’t get to nest and create a haven for our latest arrival, while our lives may be boxed up in an enormous storage container in North Lansing…this is home.

And I love it!

Day 27: Pulling Weeds

It is 7:45 am, I am on my 3rd cup of tea, and am enjoying my second quiet morning to myself in a row.

The closing prayer in the devotional this morning ends with, “help me to realize that however hard their message is to hear, they are sent for my good – to point out the holes in my character I am so blind in seeing and to pick out the weeds in my heart I am so fond of protecting…”

The weed-pulling messenger, last night, was my husband.

As we snuggled up in bed together he sweetly said, “honey, I need to talk to you about something”.

UUachggh! was my exact thought.

He continued with a gentle, and yet firm, pointing out of something in my demeanor and attitude over the past couple of weeks that has grieved him.

Oddly enough, I had been thinking about this earlier {as I did it} and it grieves me too.  And, sadly enough, it has been an issue for much, much longer than a few weeks.

While I’m generally a patient, gracious person… I seem to boycott those characteristics for less tender ones when dealing with my mother.  Not always.  But often enough for it to need to be dealt with.

I don’t know why I do it, or what triggers the mean-spirited responses to simple comments that undoubtedly leave her feeling stupid or small.  I’m aware of my attitude the entire time, and even twinge at the snippy remarks that seems to shoot from my mouth, and yet struggle to stop the onslaught.

This is my mum.  My beloved mother who birthed me and raised me, sacrificing time and time again to give us the best childhood possible.  Of course she wasn’t perfect.  But who is?  But she was, and is, a stellar mother, a stunning example of a wife, and an incredible expression of a woman after God’s heart.

Why, oh why, do I stoop to this level?  And with her of all people.

I have found that it is the people closest to us – the ones we love most – that we can be least loving to.  Is it the safety of knowing that they will stick around despite the treatment that leads us to believe that this behavior is okay?  Or at least, tolerable?

I find that I can push, and push, and then push a little more, just to see whether someone will ‘man up’ and push back.  It’s as though I just want to know whether I can push them to the point of them putting their foot down and declaring, “ENOUGH!  It is NOT okay that you treat me this way and I will no longer stand for it”.

The only other person that I’ve done this with/to {to this degree}, was the poor guy I was engaged to 10 years ago {another post for another day}.

It breaks my heart that such a magnificent woman would bring out such an ugly side of me.  With no fault on her.

So it’s time to dig deep.  I need the Lord to show me what the root of this ugliness is so I can deal with it and get on with loving and honoring my mother the way I should. 

The way I would want my daughter to treat me.

I am so thankful for a husband who loves me so entirely, and yet who has the balls {excuse my French} to call me out when I am wrong. 

I love that he loves me so ridiculously much.  And I love that he loves me too much to allow me to get complacent with the way I am.  He faithfully and tenderly helps me tackle the issues that arise in my character as we walk through life together.  And he is receptive to the {tactful} pointing out of his own issues. 

As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.
{Proverbs 27:17}

This is all a part of God’s glorious plan in marriage: to refine each other, to stretch each other, to challenge one another to grow in grace and glory.  To be refined to the point of more accurately reflecting the image of the Creator.

The musician Sting put it perfectly while being interviewed and talking about his wife {who he is just smitten by}…“You know, what I mean, you could say, 'I love Trudie,' but that's a given," Sting said. "I really like this woman. When she walks into the room, my world lights up."

Yes, I love my husband.  So much more now than I did 7 years ago when I first fell in love with him {and I recall thinking…how is it possible to love this boy any more?!?}. 

But the key is…I like him!  I adore spending time with this incredible man.  He is a true delight to my heart.  I enjoy his company more than any other person alive.  I have never been sick of spending time with him {despite spending 5 weeks travelling through Southern Africa with him and not being apart for more than a few hours}.  He is completely and utterly, no doubt about it, my best friend in the entire world.  I appreciate him.  I admire him.  I respect him.  I totally have the hots for him.  I am thankful for his ability to bring out the best in me…while tenderly pointing out the worst in me. 

I like him.  Very much indeed!

So with his help I will be working on my attitude towards my mum.  I have asked him to hold me accountable to speak to her with respect, with patience and with love {no matter how many times she asks me the same question}. 

I’m praying that the Lord will reveal the root of this heart issue in me.  I trust Him to rip out the ugliness {gently, please Lord?} and soften my heart towards this beautiful woman.

I know there is so much more to this weed than what meets the eye.  There always is.  And I’m looking forward to having it’s unsightly presence {and damaging hold} removed from the soil of my heart’s garden.

I’m excited.  I’m anxious.  I’m hesitant.  I’m not in the mood to be introspective.  I’m not feeling like delving into the depths of my mental basement.  But I want it gone.

So…buckle your seatbelts, folks…here we go!

Day 26: The Little, Itty, Bitty Stuff

While it’s a common phrase…”don’t sweat the small stuff”…and it’s something we should all strive to implement, I believe it would behoove us to take that a step further.

Oh, and lucky me!  It seems I have had a crash course this year in learning to notice, and appreciate, the small things.  Deliberately choosing to take my eyes off all that is not the way I feel it should be and focus on the many little, seemingly insignificant things that are perfectly right.

And it is changing the way I see my day, my surroundings, my life.

You see, it’s all about perspective. 

I realize I say this a lot, but I truly believe it. 

And to re-emphasize its importance in my life, God drove it home in the prophetic word I got from my facebook buddy a few days ago, check it out: “Just sit back and watch the cool things God wants to do to provide for you. Truly, perception is everything. A glass half-empty is the same as a glass half-full, yet so different according to how it’s perceived. As long as you move forward in the conviction that the Lord will always provide for you, you will continue to see true prosperity as a result. Expect to see God’s generosity, and you will see it more clearly.”

Isn’t that just astonishingly cool?  Yeah.  He loves me!

So this morning, after my precious boy {very almost 4 months old} had slept 8 hours {something Ali didn’t do until she was well over a year old}, I got up to nurse him and instead of hitting the sack again afterwards {so as to milk every last ounce of sleep I possibly could out of the night}, I sat down with a cup of tea and my favorite devotional and preceded to weep my eyes out. 

Side note: Ken Gire {auther of “Moments with the Savior”} has a way with words that will leave you completely and utterly speechless. 

If you don’t fall in love with the Jesus written about in this book, well…you must be reading a different book. 

You feel as though you are right there in the moment, smelling the mingled splatter of blood and sweat, hearing the passionate chants of the angry Jewish leaders, feeling what Mary must have felt looking up at her beloved son dying a gruesome death on a Roman cross, tasting the bittersweet prayer of a Savior taking his last breath. 

This devotional will knock your socks off, blow your mind and melt your heart all at the same time!  Its so good!

Back to the itty, bitty things {as clearly…that is not one of them!}

I so enjoyed sitting in a {seldom} quiet house…mom and dad were already up in Alma for the day, Becks spent the night out, and my 3 loves were all fast asleep. 

While simple and small…it was HUGE to me this morning.  It almost felt magical.  The sun was hitting the snow in the trees outside…the snowflakes being blown gently off the treetops glistened as they wafted to the ground.  Not a sound in the house.  Just me.  My cup of tea.  And Jesus.

It is obviously a rare thing that I get a chunk of time to sit down and spend quality time focused on scripture.  Unfortunately this is not always because of how busy life can be, but because I just don’t make enough of an effort to put my spiritual life before other less important things in my life. 

And, quite honestly, sometimes I just don’t want to slow down enough to do it.  Its often a real struggle between my flesh and my spirit.  But I’m always so thankful when my spirit wins.

I need to work on this!  Again.  As always.

Wonder of wonders…I even got a shower in after my quiet time.  I almost didn’t know what to do with myself.  Tea down, tank filled and clean…I felt like a new woman!

So, newly charged about how vital this time truly is for me – and how instrumental it is in setting the tone for my attitude and ultimately my day – I want to make a point of doing this more often.

Again.

It’s been a struggle my entire life to set apart quality time to spend focused on God, listening to His heart for mine, and was associated with such mega feelings of guilt and failure that I just threw in the towel for a while.  I didn’t even try anymore.  I was so tired of trying…and failing.  Starting to read through scripture in a year…and dropping out {again} in mid-February. 

I just seemed to suck at being a Christian. 

And I know that I’m not the only one who wrestles with this stuff {especially for those who grew up in Christian homes}.

One gets tired of feeling like a dismal failure.  15 years of feeling this way doesn’t make for good devotional time associations.

And then my happy {read: exhausted}, comfortable {read: stiff} little world changed.

I encountered my ‘Papa’ in a whole new, wildly freeing, refreshingly different way…at the shack.

However controversial it may have been amongst the Christian world, reading The Shack played an enormous part in me being released from the heaviness of expectation I always assumed was a part of being a Christian.  It was the single most powerful tool in taking my walk with the Lord from stiff and blah to free and exciting. 

I often pick it up and read a few select pages when I’m in need of a break from the religiosity that so easily entangles my heart and mind. 

Christianity seems to have become so much more about shoulds and shouldn’ts, about stale, legalistic religion…than it has about freedom and joy in Christ.  What a sad, sad situation.  No wonder no one wants what we have.  I’m not sure I would if I was on the outside looking in.

No wonder the world seems to choke down Christianity in order to get to the Christ they so desperately need in their lives.  It’s like downing the icky seaweed shake in an effort to absorb the rich nutrients it boasts within.

I want to encounter, on a daily basis, this radical God I know lives within me.  I see His fingerprints on my life and I love the astonishing beauty He’s brought from the pathetic ashes of my life {another post for another day}.

This is what I so desperately want.  What I so desperately need.  What we all need!

Life.  Glorious LIFE.  Life to the fullest.  The way He intended it to be. 

Its quite simple really.  It’s us who complicates everything.

 

{Wow.} 

I guess I’ll hop down off my soapbox now.

So apparently today’s journal is not in fact about the “little, itty, bitty things” as originally intended, but rather about the deep, nitty, gritty things. 

Sorry. False advertising.  I know.

Maybe tomorrow?

Or. 

Maybe not? 

Guess we’ll have to see, won’t we!

{But you did get two great book suggestions out of the deal}

Day 25: Mastering Our Fate

I know, a hefty title for a little blog post.

But it’s inspired by the words of a powerful poem by William Ernest Henley.  Words that were passionately quoted by Nelson Mandela in his courageous fight to recreate his beloved South Africa.

Some of my family members and I watched the movie “Invictus” {with Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon} today and were newly reminded of our love for our homeland.  Seeing panning footage of Cape Town with majestic Table Mountain in the background brought tears to our eyes and those tickley full-body goose-bumps. 

What a spectacular, breath-takingly beautiful country.  And while Michigan, and the United States, have most definitely made themselves a home in my heart, there is always a part of me that will consider South Africa my home. 

My passport may be from Namibia {just North-West of South Africa}, and believe me…I have a special place in my heart for that country…but it is South Africa that has ravished my heart. 

You can take the girl out of South Africa…but you’ll never get South Africa out of the girl.

While we loved watching a movie shot in our homeland, and so enjoyed listening to the accents {especially giggling at the fact that we were the only people in the theatre to understand the Afrikaans}, it was the story that just nabbed us. 

The stunning picture of persistence, prevailing in the face of failure, forgiveness and radical redemption {with the risk of dangerous opposition} newly reminded us of the importance of living a radical, love-inspired life.

It captured our hearts and lit our spirits on fire.

What a man Madiba {the affectionate title of respect Mandela acquired} was.  Despite 27 years in prison, he was a man of incredible passion, unquestionable humility, constant encouragement, strong conviction, forgiveness and enthusiasm.  He made our country what it is today.  What a tremendous amount we have to learn from this beloved leader.

What are you waiting for…?  Go watch the movie.  It’s brilliant.  And it’s about South Africa.  And it has two amazing American actors pulling off incredible accents.  What more could you possibly want?

And if you haven’t ditched this blog to go watch the movie, get this…

On a completely different note…God is awesome {well not completely different}.

We just bought a 1999 Grand Jeep Cherokee from the neighbor for $400.  My hubby is a rockin’ mechanic, so he’ll have that baby up and running in no time {may need a new engine but we’ve got great connections}.  So yay!  That was my dream car my senior year of high school.  11 years late, but hey.  Who’s counting?  Thanks God!

We also got an email from the Michigan State Police Troopers Association saying that they’re very possibly going to be bringing 28 laid-off Troopers back after the first of the year.  My hubby is 12 away from being recalled, so he’s definitely in that group.  While we’re not holding our breath {he’ll believe it when he’s back in blue with a gun on his hip}, we’re ridiculously encouraged and excited!  Again, awesome, thanks God!

And lastly, Joe got a call for an interview at a Saginaw area police department on Thursday.  Yipppeee, Papa!  When it rains, it seems to pour.

Things are moving along quite nicely, I must say…and in the right direction, none the less.  Always a good thing.  And how could they not when the guy in charge has been sweetly orchestrating all the minute details of this glorious plan behind the scenes.  Every. Last. Detail.

While some grow to see the light at the end of the tunnel as simply that of an oncoming train, I’m thinking the disco ball at the end of our dimly {romantically?} lit ballroom is spinning again quite nicely.  And I’m ready to grab my hot partner and take a whirl around the dance floor. 

Spring is indeed on the horizon.  Yes, it may still be a l-o-n-g while off, but I’m going to CHOOSE to find the beauty in the Wintery months still to come and trust my Creator to melt the ice and bring new life in His perfect time.

And when need be, I’ll ponder the words of this poem… keeping in mind the man who quoted them during his 27 long, hard, lonely years behind bars.  A man who, upon his release, made a radical impact on the world as we know it.

Rock on, Madiba…

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud,
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

~ William Ernest Henley

Day 24: Toilets and Trees and Friends, oh my!

It struck me, while peeing at a friends house this morning {in the toilet, in case you were tempted to wonder} ~ with the door wide open ~ just how different the dynamics of my friendships are.

I know, its an unusual place to ponder these things, but you’d be surprised to discover just how much of my deep thinking happens in that little room of relief and hygiene.  The steam from a hot shower inevitably gets my noggin working, and this morning, while sitting on the loo with the door wide open, continuing a conversation, I got to thinking.

Not one of my friendships is alike.  I’m not talking about my friends being different – that’s a no-brainer – but the actual flavor of the friendship we share.  There are so many wonderful women in my life who share the same marital status, mommy status, the same faith and values, even similar passions and hobbies…and yet even with all we have in common, what I share with one is so different from another.  And it’s glorious!

Our relationships with our husbands are vastly different, despite sharing an unconditional love for them and a desire to grow old beside them. 

Our parenting styles – while they share a common goal {raising quality, compassionate, unique human beings who love the Lord and love on others} – take different roads to get there in our everyday parenting style or discipline techniques.  It’s not wrong, it’s just different.

We all want our homes to be warm, comfortable, beautiful and an expression of ourselves…and they’re all so very different.

What one friend and I may consider a roaring time, another friend and I wouldn’t even consider doing together. 

Not because I’m inconsistent or two-faced, but because my friendships are like the people they are shared with…completely unique, and wildly beautiful.

I simply adore the women in my life, and I’m newly aware, and appreciate, of how different they all are…and how different our friendships are.  They truly add spice to my life.

Back to peeing with the door open.

While I wouldn’t think twice about chatting and leaving the door open while sitting on the loo at many friend’s homes {and they did it at mine before the risk of even more of my family members walking in on them was an issue}, at the homes of other friends {whom I’m still very close to}, it just wouldn’t feel comfortable.

Friends.  All learning.  All growing.  All beautiful.  All precious.

All so very, very different.

Sitting here with the {interesting} Christmas tree before me, it bares a striking resemblance to my life.  Messy.  Beautiful.  Colorful.  Sparkly.  With a hint of Gaudiness.

More striking is the friends the different ornaments bring to mind…

The classy white ball with pearls and just a smidge of glitter…the refined, well-behaved friend who gets more beautiful with time and has a way of reminding me of the importance of purity and simplicity.

The rustic tin and wire ornament we brought back from South Africa…the unpretentious, rough-around-the-edges friend who’s just down-right awesome, loves Jesus is raw, unorthodox ways and challenges me to be more authentic.

The simple glass bulb…the sweet, uncomplicated friend who has taught me the power of transparency, and has this natural ability to multiply the glow from the little light behind it.

The crazy ornate, purple glittery thing…the gorgeous friend who is a stunning example of modest glamour, sassy spunk and a vivacious spirit.

The old, half-eaten, hand made ornament from years ago…the friend I’ve known for my entire time here in the states that just make me smile at the thought of her.

The furry, green Grinch with the flashing red heart…well, you know who you are {just kidding}

The little stitched tea-cup ornament…the friend who, over a cup of tea, is just warm, real and fabulous.

The little red ball that has ridiculous white snowflakes and tinsel glued to it {ummm, Rebecca?}…a friend who without fail makes me laugh and is guaranteed to be delightful company.

The little glass angel…the quieter, tender-hearted gal who always has service projects in the works.

And those are just 10% of the ornaments that adorn this great green tree. 

We won’t talk about the lametta.  We just won’t.  Ugh.

These ravishing women.  These delightful friends.  They are the gorgonzola, red onion, pine-nuts and pecans that turn a boring salad into a delectable one.  One that would make even the most dedicated meat-eater consider going vegetarian. 

These women love me the way I am, they challenge me to be better than I am, they make me laugh, they make me cry, they offer wisdom, and seek counsel. 

It is these women who make up the eclectic, colorful world I get to live in, and I absobloominlutely love it!

“I thank my God every time I remember you…” Philippians 1:3

Day 23: Extravagance, Prophecy & Martinis

God never ceases to amaze me.

The way He prepares us for the road ahead, be it through the circumstances we’ve just come through or by filling our “tanks” with hope, encouragement and wisdom for the trek.

The way He provides for us, via special deals at a store, blessings from close friends or gifts from practical strangers.

The way He graciously corrects, sweetly provides, faithfully encourages and consistently guides.

The week after Aiden was born {about 15 weeks ago}, we visited a church in Lansing for a special evening worship service.  There were a few people there from a local ministry wanting to practice hearing from the Lord for others {also known as personal prophetic ministry}.  Having experienced the wild year we have, and not having a clue what the future holds, I signed us up!

God knocked our socks off.  Everything the trio sensed God telling them for us, and prayed over us, was spot on.

We were totally tanked up!  God spoke to our hearts through these 3 people in such a stunning, and much needed, way.

The following week we found ourselves in some of our darkest days.  Aiden had been admitted to the PICU and we were clinging to the Lord, begging him to heal his little heart.

How sweet of Him to have filled us up and given us words of life for the long road ahead.

So last week, someone I {barely} know {through my sister} on facebook put it out there that she wanted to practice prophetic ministry and was looking for guinea pigs {all via her status update}.  Being the encouragement/wisdom hog that I am…I commented on her status with a resounding “pick me, pick me” message!

And again, God knocked our socks off.

She came back a few days later with prophetic words for me, my hubby {by request}, and for us as a couple. 

Talk about reading my mail {and she doesn’t…not even my blog}!

What she brought back to us, from her time of praying and waiting on the Lord for us, was spot on!  There was encouragement, caution, wisdom and counsel all wrapped up into this life-giving parcel she delivered to my facebook inbox.

A few times since first reading it yesterday specific words have come to mind, in nailing me on superficial thinking, challenging me not to be stingy and in encouraging me that God has great things up His sleeve for me/us. 

How awesome is our God that He gives us EVERYTHING we need to live an ever-growing, purposeful, radical life…including tangible fuel for the trip.  I’m blessed beyond words for these nuggets.

While there is too much for me to go into depth at this point, I know portions of the prophetic word will be a part of this journal in some shape or form for many, many days to come as they come to mind and materialize.

And as a cherry on the top of this encouragement Sundae, we arrived home from church today to find one of the State Troopers from my husband’s post {with his wife and daughter} sitting in the living room with my parents, surrounded by boxes and boxes of groceries…gallons of milks, juice, boxes of cereal, brownie & cookie mix, sausage, crackers, deodorant, toothpaste, soup, a frozen turkey, chocolate, delicious smelling “man soap” {yum}, and a slew of other yummy food substances.

Even Ali and Aiden got Christmas prezzies from them.  Including diapers for our growing boy!

And as though this weren’t extraordinary enough…a gift for us: all the {costly} makings of many delicious glasses of Grand Martinis, a drink we experienced for the first time a few months ago and fell in love with, but couldn’t afford to buy {a bottle of Grand Marnier costs a whopping $40…and that’s only one of the ingredients!}.

Can you believe this incredible extravagance we encounter on a relatively frequent basis…and the willingness of precious people {who don’t necessarily share our faith…I don’t know…I just met her today, and only met him last week for the first time} to bless us out of the overflow of their lives.  It’s beautiful.

I stand amazed.  Humbled.  Blessed beyond words {okay, so maybe that’s not true.  I’m rarely speechless.  Obviously}.

What lavish generosity.  What stellar human beings.

And now.  I get the feeling it’s my turn to spread the love.  And I get even more of a feeling that it ‘someone’ who suddenly {since a few days ago} lives a couple of miles down the road from me. 

Someone I’m still viciously guarding my heart {and my children} from. 

Someone who I’m still learning how to love fully while establishing healthy boundaries with.

Surprise.  My mother-in-law is back in the state and now lives closer than I know what to do with.

Oh, how timely a word from the Lord, and a Christmas present, can be.

Grand Martini, honey…?

Day 22: Does It Really Matter?

Something hit me the other night.

While that may sound like a profound opening…what initially hit me was warm, bath water.

Allow me to explain.

Ali and I were bathing Aiden in his little tub, which was neatly nestled inside the big tub.  While I had him propped up and was washing his hair, his always-eager-to-help big sister was rinsing his toes {and anything else that happened to be within a 5 foot radius of said toes}.

The following 5 minutes went something like this:

Thank you for helping me, sweet girl!  I bet your brother loves it!!
    Mommy, I want soap too.  
Please…? 
    Please.  
Okay, darling, here’s a squirt.
Thank you…?
    Thank you, mommy!

{Aiden’s hair and toes, among other things, being thoroughly washed and rinsed, until…}

Ummm…Ali, please don’t put soap on mommy’s back.   
Mommy isn’t in the bath and doesn’t need soap right now  
because I can’t rinse it off.

{more washing and rinsing…until suddenly the sensation of warm water is felt rushing over my back, in my pants and on the floor}

ALI!  What are you doing?!?  GET OUT! GET OUT!  AAARRGH!  
Now the floor is all wet!  My pants are all wet!  Go, just go!

{As I usher Ali out the door and do a sloppy job of mopping up the floor with a nearby towel, it hits me…my baby is in the bath tub, unattended.  I swung around to find he had wriggled down the mesh back support at an angle and was beginning to drink the bath water}

My heart was pounding, my mouth was dry, and I instantly felt sick to my stomach.

It was entirely possible that our son could have drowned amidst the whirlwind of water and careless words, simply because I had over-reacted to the floor, and my clothes, being washed in an unorthodox fashion.

Did it really matter?  In the scope of things…did it really matter?

No.  Of course not.

And my sweet girl, who in her mind was just fixing the previous problem {soap on mommy’s back, who was not in the bath and so was unable to rinse}, had just been royally scolded for something in a way that could have cost us a life.

What a wake-up call.

As I looked at my little babe, now more appropriately situated in the tub, my heart swelled as my mind wandered to 14 weeks ago when we almost lost him the first time {www.aidens-journey.blogspot.com}.  The thought flickers through my mind…”how many chances will the Lord give us to keep him?”

But I know better.

I’m so thankful I can rest in His sovereignty and His perfect plan for our lives, and the lives of our children.  I may be painfully imperfect…but He is big, and gracious, and patient…and the best safe bather of children this side of the river Jordan.  Ha.

Life is so precious.  And much too short to make mountains out of molehills. 

Why do I make such enormous deals out of such inconsequential little things?  Yes, of course I was startled, but did I really need to respond that drastically?

No.  But that’s why life is all about the journey.  It’s about constantly being willing to learn and mature and grow and stretch…no matter how humbling, scary and tedious the process may be. 

There really are startlingly magical moments in the muck.

Once my heart rate had returned to normal and my head had stopped spinning, I did call Ali back in and apologize to her for the way I responded.  She stroked my arm and said she was sorry…and wanted to know whether I was okay.  What a girl!

I’m learning that it’s not about perfection…in parenting, in marriage, in friendship, in life in general…but rather about seeing every mistake as an opportunity to reevaluate, apologize when necessary, and to get a little better at this game of life. 

Life is just too short to squander on minor irritations over unexpected showers.

There are always little eyes watching the way we handle life – the good, the bad, the ugly, the wet and the unexpected – and how we walk the walk, and talk the talk, will hugely impact the way they do.

Seeing we are all still under construction, we’d better get a handle on this basic principle as soon as possible:

God is obsessed with life. 

He made the ultimate sacrifice in order for us to experience it in abundance.

This usually involves some level of growing pains.

And seeing God is far more concerned with our character than our comfort, we may as well get used to it.

{After all, how much fun is a rollercoaster ride without the ups and the downs?}

Day 21: Oh, The Maturity Oozes Forth!

Or not.

Isn’t it funny how we can hold others to standards that we, on our absolute best days, are lucky to measure up to?

Well, maybe ‘funny’ isn’t the best word to use here.

I find it odd that I have such high expectations for my toddler, who’s only been breathing air for a mere 28 months, and yet can be such a twit myself at times?!?

How does it compute?  This I would love to know. 

For instance.

Today was a great day.  Really.  The kiddos and I spent time with precious friends this morning, had a blast at Meijer {between the fish tanks, pretty wine bottles and the penny horse…how can you go wrong?}, sipped copious amounts of tea, made chocolate-chip-chickpea cookies, played with playdough, cooked dinner for the {whole} family…you get the point. 

Please note: All the while my beloved husband is having a much-needed getaway {freezing his hieney off riding 4-wheelers} with his bestest buddy down in Ohio. 

I was feeling like a pretty good mom.  I was tempted at times to strike a pose and tear open my shirt, hoping to reveal a shiny “S” on my chest…but figured it wouldn’t be a very dignified way of celebrating today’s success at motherhood. 

Aren’t I so appropriate?  See, my filter is functioning much better these days.

So, amidst this fantabulous day, why on earth would a completely and utterly unprovoked rebellious streak decide to rear its ugly head?

I, fully aware, proudly and unabashedly scraped the cookie dough bowl and smiled at my mother as I licked the spoon.

What?  Really?  20 days…and now this?!?

And then…as though that wasn’t failure enough for one day…I sheepishly hid in the pantry and ate half a cookie. 

Yeah…about that dignified thing.

No.  Today.  Was not stellar.  I’m almost completely mortified enough to not publish this.  But not really.  And while that doesn’t make sense…”almost completely”…I didn’t feel like changing it.  So there you have it.

Apparently my rebellious streak has not excused itself quite yet.

Shortly thereafter, lady Alathea brought me a little white string she has been “flossing her teeth” with.  Instead of doing the mature, civilized thing of throwing it in the garbage, I was feeling rather lazy.  And rebellious. 

The moment Ali turned around to walk away… I tossed it, with reckless abandon, over my shoulder in the direct vicinity of the Christmas tree sitting innocently behind me, knowing full well that the little white string would blend in nicely with the {heinous} shiny lametta strings {also known as “icicles”} my sweet mother insists adorn this poor thing every year.  The tree actually looks good until the lametta is broken out. 

And now the tree is minty fresh and no one will know why.  Mwah ha ha.

And this is just today!  Last night…?  Wow, last night I was a piece of work. 

I had a sorry little pity-party for myself {born out of my frustration of having to parent our kids for the entire day by myself…a baby attached to your chest and a toddler attached to your leg is just a wee bit exhausting}, while my husband was away, adjusting his return time over and over again from what was initially established. 

I was pitiful.  And officially done being cordial around 9:30pm.  I fumed while holding my 4 month old who had finally fallen asleep after adjusting from sitting to laying to standing {with assistance} over and over again and attempting to read to and pray with my 2 year old before bed.  I practically threw her in the crib {had to hoist her with my foot and elbow because of having my arms full}.

But get this…this is where I bite my lip with embarrassment. 

My sweet man had spent the entire day helping a friend; working for 16 hours on a stubborn truck, for free, in 12* weather.  Just because he’s that kind of man. 

And me…well, yes, of course I could have put that sleeping baby down…and that bedtime routine didn’t have to last 4 times as long as it usually does…but in all honesty, I was dragging it out in the hopes my husband would return home to find me overwhelmed, with my arms full, and hence feel awful for being so late. 

Isn’t that just awesome? {overwhelming amount of sarcasm inserted here}.

Yeah, it’s a wonder God hasn’t fired me yet.  If I were him, I’m pretty sure my grace-o-meter would have ceased to function about…well, a very, very long time ago.

So, as the song goes…”I get knocked down, but I get up again, ain’t never gonna keep me down…”

Tomorrow is another day.  I’m so thankful for new beginnings.  Needless to say, I especially adore a brand-spanking New Year!

Back up I get.

I suppose when I’m making radical changes in an effort to live a radical life with a radical effect…I’m going to make radical mistakes.

And while inhaling a few chocolate chips and chickpeas laden with butter and sugar don’t quite constitute a radical disaster, the condition of my heart was dangerously close.

Here’s to a new day and a fresh start! 

More chickpeas over here in the “still growing” department, please.  But…hold the chocolate chips.  Thank you.

Day 20: Christmas Truth & Smoothies

The older I get, and more importantly, the older my child{ren} get, the more intentional I become about getting down to the heart of things. 

I’m on a mission to strip bare the froo-froo expectations and down-right selfishness this culture has not-so-subtly hammered into our minds and be free of the chaos. 

Every hallmark holiday comes with the infamous opportunity to get further into debt and instill further into our minds that it’s all about us.

But it’s not.

And nothing has me more fired up than Christmas.  Or, at least, the superficial blur of stress-inducing expectations and greedy wish-lists Christmas has become.  Maybe we should rename it “Me-mas”, seeing Christ seems to have so little to do with what so many people celebrate.

And, while I’m on a role…what’s to celebrate about spending more money than we have on more stuff we don’t need, arguing about who’s house we’re going to eat at and putting our bodies through more stress than a colonoscopy conveniently offers, in the name of some fat dude in a red suit?

Just sayin’.

You see, I grew up in a family that didn’t have much money, so we were forced to get creative.  Creative with ornaments and decorating, creative with meaningful, home-made presents, creative with finding time as a family to soak in what Christmas was really all about.  And it was a delight.  My parents weren’t stressed out trying to meet our self-centered expectations or strapped trying to accommodate our hefty wish-lists.  They just were.  It just was.

It was simple.  It was sweet.  Why, it was Christmas.

And I want that for my family now. 

So…while I still fight the expectations I put on myself to buy presents for everyone I know {ridiculous really…as who needs more stuff?  And who has that kind of money?} and to spend the same amount of money as other family members spend on each-other…I’m learning to release myself from that unimportant stuff and allow myself {and those around me} to bask in the beauty of what Christmas is ultimately about…Christ.

That’s all.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.

Yes, in celebrating His goodness and His generosity, I think it’s lovely to give gifts to others – where we can, when we can, in whatever fashion we can – but I’m not willing to miss out on the magic of the season in an effort to keep up with what our culture advertises as important.  It’s just not.

And I’m finding a peace and a joy that I haven’t experienced around this time of year for a very, very long time.

This is what I want my daughter, and eventually my son, to understand about Christmas.  The simplicity of family…hot chocolate around a beautifully lit tree…Christmas carols and the smell of freshly baked {badly assembled} cookies…winter white landscapes through steamy windows…snuggling a little closer in bed because you’re so cold you can’t feel your toes…getting excited about finding the perfect gift for a friend for $2 at a thrift store {rather than spending my time wondering what I might be getting out of the deal}…making a birthday cake for Jesus and reading the story of His birth on Christmas eve…the profound impact of buying a dollar coffee for the man who stands on the corner of the street near our house {despite the frigid temperatures} just to see him smile…serving meals to homeless families at a local church who may only get one warm, home-cooked meal every once in a great while…buying a soccer ball for the young boy who’s family is in upheaval and desperately wants to play, but can’t afford to.  And it’s about making snowmen {or women} with your child no matter how badly you want to stay inside and not brave the cold, just because their excitement is so over-the-top that you can see it oozing off their face.  And just because you can.

This, you see, is what Christmas is all about. 

These are the things I want my family to associate with Christmas trees in stores, carols on the radio, and decorations in malls.  And it all starts with me grasping the truth – the real reason we celebrate – and setting an example through a life that’s exudes peace, joy and a selfless excitement in this special season.

It’s about serving others, it’s about loving others, its about spending lavish time with family and friends and not expecting presents other than the gift of their presence in our lives.  It may sound cheesy, but this truly is the desire of my heart.

Christmas is an opportunity to focus of what life is really all about…a time to thank God for sending His precious son from a place of majesty and royalty to be the helpless child of a lowly, Jewish girl. 

From a throne to a stinky manger. 

Just to get us back.

I think we got the best deal in town.

 

 

{Oh…and regarding the smoothie.  I completely and utterly {accidently} screwed up yesterday.  I ate half of a delicious 4-berry smoothie, knowing full well that it was loaded with ice-cream, simply because I was too embarrassed to say I didn’t want it after I had paid for it and the gal had put it together for me.  But I swear I didn’t know there was ice-cream in it when I ordered it from the menu.  Smoothies are supposed to have YOGHURT in them, not ice-cream, lady!} 

So there.

Day 19: The Carrot, The Egg & The Coffee Beans

I read this story a long time ago and the words of this wise mother continue to hit me right between the eyes.  I think of them often.  Today is one of those times…

“A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her.  She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up.  She was tired of fighting and struggling.  It seemed as if as soon as one problem was solved a new one arose. 

Her mother took her to the kitchen.  The mother filled three pots with water.

In the first, she placed carrots.

In the second she placed eggs.

And the last she placed ground coffee beans.

She let them sit and boil without saying a word.  About twenty minutes later, she turned off the burners.

She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl.

Turning to her daughter, she said, "Tell me what you see."
"Carrots, eggs, and coffee," she replied. (You known the tone of voice.)

She brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did, and noted that they felt soft.

She then asked her to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg inside.

Finally, she asked her to sip the coffee.  The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma.  The daughter then asked, "So, what's the point, mother?" (Remember the tone of voice.)

Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity - boiling water - but each reacted differently.

The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak.

The egg had been fragile.  Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid center. But, after sitting through the boiling water, its insides had become hardened.

The ground coffee beans were unique, however.  After they were in the boiling water...they had changed the water.

"Which are you?" she asked her daughter.  "When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond?  Are you a carrot , an egg, or a coffee bean?"

Think of this: Which am I?

Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity, do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?

Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat?

Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship, or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff?  Does my outer shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and a hardened heart?

Or am I like the coffee bean?  The bean actually changes the hot water - the very circumstances that bring the pain.  When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor of the bean. 

If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you instead of letting it change you.

When the hours are the darkest and trials are their greatest do you elevate to another level?  How do you handle Adversity?”

ARE YOU A CARROT, AN EGG, OR A COFFEE BEAN?

Day 18: What A {Beautiful} Mess!

Today was one of fabulous creations, wide smiles and glorious mess.

Alathea and I made “Ali-bars”…a concoction of oats, honey, peanut butter, raisins, shredded coconut, chopped walnuts…and plenty of colorful sprinkles.  Lavishly ‘measured’ {word used very loosely} by Ali herself as she sat on the counter, she had a blast heaping, scooping, sprinkling, stirring and licking {not necessarily in that order}.

I find that if I’m not careful to fight it, I fall naturally into a very controlling, no-mess, predictable style of parenting…which often leads to an uncontrollable, messy, bored child.  So I’m trying to let my hair down more often and intentionally throw caution to the wind.  Will watching Veggietales twice in a row and eating more ingredients than actually go into a recipe once in a while in fact kill the girl?  Or me, for that matter?

No, most probably not.

I want to be more spontaneous and fun, I really do!  I know I need to be more purposeful in carving out time to have silly, unadulterated, messy fun with my child. 

Life is just too short not to.

And while it’s scary, it is so important…not only for her development and for our relationship, but for me to fully understand what is ultimately most important in life. 

No woman ever said on her death bed, “I wish I had stayed up on the laundry more”.  Or “I wish I had kept the floors cleaner”.  Or “I wish I had decluttered the clutter more”. 

No.  They usually mourn the missed opportunities for late night fort construction or glittery mud-pie creation.

While I crave structure and organization {like most women crave the newest Gucci sunglasses}, I fear my propensity to pursue it has the potential to squelch the insatiable zest for life God has placed in the heart of every child. 

What a tragedy that would be.

So, in my pursuit of the radical {radical, fantasmigorical moments with my sweet girl, in this instance}…along with magically delicious Ali-bars, we made melted-wax-crayon-creations to hang on nana’s Christmas tree.  I think I had more fun than she did {after all…I got to hold the sharp knife and chop the crayons up into tiny, little pieces…and wield the hot iron!}.

And it was while hanging up our particularly large m-w-c-c in nana’s kitchen window that I realized how much like my life that glorious, melted mess was.

Just when I’m tempted to throw in the towel because a specific area of my life is out of my control or not cooperating the way I think it should {like my embarrassing need to discard wax crayons once broken, peeled of their paper wrapper or imperfect in any other [pathetic] little way in my effort to keep her craft supplies looking Martha Stewartesque…everyone say [recovering] “OCD”!}…God takes all the ugly, useless little bits, melts them together with the heat of adversity and before our very eyes, a delightfully colorful creation emerges. 

One that, when held up to the light, allows the SON to shine through, creating a masterpiece that causes even the worst perfectionist among us {ahem} to stop and say, “hmm…not too shabby.  Not too shabby at all!!”.

What a resourceful Creator we have!  He just doesn’t waste a thing!

And thanks to His passion for making beauty out of ashes, my life has become a {beautiful} mess indeed!

Day 17: The Power of Authenticity

I have always struggled with being a people pleaser.  The fear of what others thought of me literally paralyzed me for many, many years.

The past several years, being married to my biggest fan, have been incredibly healing.  As the layers of self-doubt and worthlessness have been peeled away, an incredible peace in who I was created to be has emerged.

3 years ago, while in Southern Africa with my hubby, God sweetly “arranged” for us to visit the hostel where I spent some of my younger years {where my dad was the vice principle of the girls school/hostel}, and where it turns out my sister and I had been been sexually abused by a worker when we were 4 and 5 years old .

Getting to work through my devastation, confusion and frustration alongside my husband set into motion the most incredibly deep reconstruction of my identity that I’ve ever experienced.  After years of stupid decisions and not understanding how a “good Christian girl” could fall so far from grace, closure came.  I had blocked out what had happened to me as a little girl and all I could see, looking back, was my filthy, foolish, worthless self.

My world was so profoundly rocked.

This experience 3 years ago has impacted every area of my life, and I’m so grateful the Lord orchestrated this divine event before we started a family.  Right before, in fact.  While I didn’t know it at the time, our little Alathea {meaning: Truth} Grace was growing in my belly.  It astounds me how, after years of dealing with the devastating effects of sexual corruption, God brought about healing in my life…and brought new life out of a place that had represented painful death {of innocence}. 

Isn’t He just sweet like that?

I have so enjoyed the journey the Lord has taken me on over the past couple of years.  While not always comfortable or pretty, it has stretched me and molded me into someone who more closely resembles the daughter of a King.

I am learning to rest in the knowledge that God made me this way, quirks and all, and until the day I am called home, I’m a work in progress.

I’m learning that the friends that matter in life love me just the way I am…and yet love me enough to not leave me this way.  They challenge me and encourage me, celebrate my growth and speak truth…even when it’s hard to hear.

I am learning that if I try to be someone other than who I am, I’m eventually going to get exhausted with the pretense and drop the show.  Why not just be real…those who will make quality friends will appreciate that authenticity.

I am learning that I don’t have the energy to be anything other than who I am.

I’m learning that true friendship is worth more than gold and temporary popularity.

I am learning that I sleep better at night when I know that I’ve been true to my heart and my faith, no matter how badly I may fit in at any given moment.

I’m learning that I’m simply a sinner saved by grace…and that’s all I care to be.

And that is a beautiful thing.

Day 16: 10 Words

God

is

more

interested

in

our

character

than

our

comfort

Day 15: What A Man!

We had our annual Christmas shots taken today by a lovely friend of ours.  Oh, the joy of bartering…I don’t recall the last time we paid for family photos.

And I must say…my sexy, bald husband knocks my socks off.  Especially in a black shirt and jeans.  Hmm mmm, good!

I’ve never seen such a beautiful combination of strength and tenderness in another human being.  Some how God has managed to mingle an incredibly compassionate heart {that aches for injustice and cries during chick flicks} with an uber manly man’s love for all things, well…manly {hunting, wrestling, farting and grunting}. 

I love the way my husband is strong, proud and professional when he needs to be, and yet can be so gentle and patient with his 2 year old daughter.

After putting our little one down for nap, he took me out for coffee.  Well, chai actually, but he had coffee.  We hit America’s most frequented church…St. Arbucks, and enjoyed each other’s company for an hour and a half, while our son slept in his car-seat on the table.

We shared about life in general, what the past {tough} 6 months have taught us…our struggles and our victories…occasionally glancing over at our miracle boy who, just over 3 months ago, was hooked up to numerous IVs that were ‘fighting’ to save his little life.

What a journey.

And I couldn’t imagine a more incredible man to have walked alongside.

I am blessed beyond what I could ever have dreamed possible.

This man steals my heart, over and over and over again.

We laughed, we cried, we enjoyed pumpkin bread, we reminisced about our dating days and early married life.  We dreamed about what our future may hold…maybe college, maybe a part-time position at semi-local Police Department {just heard about it today}…maybe moving {hopefully someday soon}. 

We stared quietly into each other’s eyes.  We thanked God for His strength, grace and provision that has been so incredibly evident in our lives over the past year.

It was the most precious time we’ve had “alone” together for a long time.

Our love tanks are officially topped-up.  Thank you very much.

My husband knocks my socks off.