If A Mama Wants to Shower - A True Story About My Morning

If a Mama wants to shower, she will go into the bathroom and see the thermometer sitting on the sink.  Then she will remember that she never checked the temperature of her sick child.

While on her way to check the child’s temperature she will see the diffuser and remember that she wanted to diffuse an anti-bacterial oil blend in the child’s play space.

While getting the oil diffuser set up the Mama will see the child’s sippy cup and remember that she needs to refill it with Gatorade.

While refilling the sippy cup (which must be washed first) she will realize the entire sink is filled with dirty dishes.  Chances are she’ll stop to wash them.

She will then discover that the dishwasher is full of clean dishes that must be put away.

While putting away dishes, the Mama will see that the breakfast table was never cleared.  Most likely she will want to get the refrigerated items put away.

While clearing the table she will discover that the floor hasn’t been swept in awhile.  She’ll stop and sweep the floor.

While sweeping the floor she’ll start thinking about how nothing is getting done and she’ll stop to write a funny story about it.

While on her computer anyway she’ll discover 4 new emails that need her attention and require follow up.

While thinking about those emails she’ll remember a few things that need to be added to her shopping list.

While finishing the shopping list she’ll realize that can’t go to the store yet because . . . .she hasn’t taken a shower.

So. . . . . .she’ll go upstairs to take a shower.  And on the way her husband will say, “Why haven’t you showered yet? I thought you were going to do that a long time ago.”

Who Will You See?

We recently returned from a trip to the "Happiest Place on Earth".  We planned and saved for the trip for 14 months.  We met all of Michael's family in Orlando and spent 3 1/2 days as a group of 16 touring the wonderful world of Disney.

We left from O'hare Airport on a cold January morning.  Both girls were dressed in T-shirts that said "1st Disney Trip".  One kind security guard took one look at my girls, smiled and started the following conversations:

Guard:  "How exciting you are going to Disney - who are you going to see?"
L:  With much excitement and awe, "Mickey & Minnie!!"
G:  With a sweet and innocent smile, "Grandma"

Be still my beating heart . . . .

Here they are after arriving at our hotel - it would still be another 24 hours before we would see Grandma, but I did send Grandma an email from the airport letting her know that her arrival would trump any princess or other character we would see during the trip!

Time Does Heal

February 17, 2010 - Michael had a conversation with his boss and a colleague that changed our life.  Things had been hard in his job for almost a full year - with ups and downs; days of encouragement and days of discouragement.  But on that day everything changed.  Our departure became eminent and our world was spinning.  

In the days that followed we cried, we prayed, we took some time away, we cried some more, we sought counsel and shortly there after Michael resigned from his job.

We were wronged.  We were hurt.  We were disillusioned.   We were confused.

But . . .God was gracious.  God was loving.  God was GOOD.  God's people were gracious.  God's people were loving.  God's people were good.

It was hard to imagine healing or to even be interested in the healing process, but we saw glimmers of hope that in time God would heal our hearts; our lives; and our family.

February 17, 2011 - As the day approached all kinds of emotions welled up inside of me.  We were still hurting, but God's provision was overwhelming.  We had a sick child; Michael was living in Chicago and the girls and I were living in central IL.  We were trying desperately to buy a house, get our daughter healthy, and move on with our life.  The week surrounding the "anniversary" was hard.  I cried more.  It was easy to blame all the hard things in our life on the events of the past year.  I wanted to place blame, I wanted to lash out. 

But . . . God was gracious.  God was loving.  God was Good.  God's people were gracious.  God's people were loving.  God's people were good.

February 16, 2012 - The phone rang.  Someone who had been significantly involved in our previous situation called to apologize.  Not just to Michael, but to me!!  Tears flowed.  He had no idea that he was calling so close to the anniversary of "the conversation".  The apologize was genuine, real, gut-wrenching, and accepted.

Forgiveness was granted.  The wounds were healing.

February 2013 - Dear friends in ministry were in the middle of a terribly difficult situation that mirrored ours in many ways (I've written a blog post about it, but for their sake am waiting until more time passes to post it.)  As February 17 approached emotions were stirred.  There was pain, but it wasn't as much.  There was anger, but it wasn't as much.  There was more hope than before. 

February 17, 2014 - the day came and went without any notice.  I didn't fear the day with dread.  There was no anger, no pain, no hurt.  Time is moving forward; my heart is healing.  Now instead of this day being a day I dread and lament with only memories of hurt, anger, and betrayal; the day can be a celebration of the life of my niece that began on that very day in 2010.  I worried that year that her birthday would always be shrouded in sadness for me.  But this year it was not - praise the Lord, who is the healer of broken hearts.

We bear a scar from the experience, which will always be with us.  And I'm sure like all scars will sometime in the future expose another layer of healing that need to happen.  But for now, I sing for praise that my God has used his character, his people, and time to heal my wound!

They Will Know We Are Christians By Our . . . . . .Love?????

There seem to be alot of very divisive topics in the Christian community these days.  Within the last several days I have seen and read passionate blog posts on GMOs, breast feeding, habits of the rich & poor, family size, and education of children . . .just to name a few.

Every person that has written or posted articles has given compelling reasons why their particular view on said topic is right.  Not just right, but Christian - God honoring.

My concern over all this passion is growing.

For starters on many of today's "hot" topics, I've read writings from Christians (often Evangelicals) on both sides of the issue.  Rarely have I read a writer conceding that perhaps thoughtful, intelligent, God-fearing people can feel differently about an issue. 

I'm reading alot of hate and anger and not sensing alot of grace.

Some of the things I've read have upset me.  I've felt compelled to defend myself more than once.  I stop; remind myself that the opinions expressed are just that . . . opinions.  I tell myself that I am accountable only to God for the decisions I am making.  What's best for my family isn't best for everyone's family.  After 5-10 minutes of self talk I can usually get back to a place of respect and appreciation for the opportunity of free speech.

But the thing that is bothering me more than the opinions expressed is the way in which we are doing it.  We are writing & posting these essays all over social media and as I said earlier, they are not always filled with love and grace.

So what are those who are not Christ followers seeing?  Are they seeing the love we have for each other?  Are they seeing Believers who genuinely want to encourage one another?  Are they seeing servant leaders who are willing to put aside the "right to be right" with humility? 

I fear they are not.  I fear they are seeing people filled with pride, anger (which is often NOT righteous), and hate.  I fear they are seeing people who are operating from places of fear and bondage rather than from love and freedom. 

Does what they see motivate them to follow Christ?  Does what they read cause them to ask more about this community of Believers who are supposed to be known by their love for each other and for God.

I fear the answer is no.

Our Family Tree

We had a new babysitter recently.  The girls LOVED her and are already talking about "the next time she comes".  We are especially excited because this particular babysitter is not from our church. (Church girls - we LOVE you too, don't worry!!)  But since most of the events that we need babysitters for are church activities - we use the same pool of sitters as four or five other families.  It can get kind of competitive as to who gets the babysitters first!

Our new sitter is my aunt's niece . . . . get it?  (If not - here's the skinny:  My aunt married my mom's brother and the new sitter is the daughter of my aunt's brother.  So she's not related to us - but we do share mutual cousins and an aunt and uncle.)

During the evening the girls were showing Lizzie their scrapbooks.  They happened upon a picture of one of the shared cousins.  Lizzie says, "Oh look - it's Jessica."  Imagine the shock . . . my girls were quite confused as to how Lizzie could possibly know Jessica.

HELLO worlds colliding.

Lizzie told the girls that Jessica was her cousin too.  Stop. the. presses. . . . how could this be?

We came home to this note, written by our 7 year old who was clearly shaken by the revelation:

For those who don't fluently read 1st grade print & spelling, let me translate:  "Lizzie is in our family.  I am embarrassed, not Grace.  Did you know before we told you.  Sign here . . . .yes . . . no . . . Circle if you know and write the word."

As you can see, we followed the instructions - by circling yes and writing the word.

The next morning we were discussing Lizzie's relationship to our family.  I was explaining this seemingly complicated relationship.  The discussion included why Lizzie isn't at most of our family events.  I explained to them that Lizzie was, in fact, at cousin Jim's wedding.  And we would most likely see her again when/if Jessica, John, & Nolan get married.  The girls were quick to assure me that we would see Lizzie at her own wedding . . . . . see I told you they loved her - they're already inviting themselves to her wedding.  So once I thought everything was understood, I asked for a recap to see if they had grasped the concept.  This was the answer from our 4 year old:

"It's like this - we have the same family, but she's not on any of the branches of OUR tree."

Letting Go

One of our summer goals was for L to learn how to ride a two wheeler.  We started practicing almost as soon as school was out in June.  We took off the training wheels and  gave it a try.  Michael and I took turns holding onto her seat while she peddled.  It didn't go well . . .

After just a few attempts the training wheels went back on the bike and summer progressed.  We tried a couple more times, but it seemed she just wasn't quite ready.

Last week we gave it one more try.  School was about to start and she wanted to accomplish her goal.  I admit as I unbolted the training wheels, I was less than confident.

We started again - her riding, me running behind holding the seat.  I just couldn't bring myself to let go of the seat.  She was too wobbly and wasn't  peddling fast enough.  I exhorted her to "keep her balance and peddle faster."  But we were in the same place as before.

Then something happened and I let go . . . . . .she kept peddling . . . and she didn't fall off the bike.

I was amazed and humbled.  Turns out I was the one holding her back.  All I needed to do was let go.  Once I did she was free to ride. 

I've thought and thought about this.  I wonder how many times as her mom, I have been unwilling to let go and therefor held her back from what she could have accomplished?  I thought she needed more balance and more speed, but all she really needed was the freedom to go.

I'm sure this will happen again.  Letting go is so hard - and there will be so much of it in the future.  I'll have to let her go more and more each year and ultimately I will have let her fly away.  I've heard the cliche about giving our children roots and wings, but this week the cliche made more sense to me than ever before.

The Secret to Being Kind

Our precious 3 year old has a tendency to throw temper tantrums when she doesn't get her way. We've been trying to teach her that if she would just use words instead of throwing a fit, sometimes we can make changes.

So a while back there was a morning she didn't want to wear the shirt I had picked out for her.  She really wanted to pitch a fit . . I could see the wheels turning in her head.  Finally she looked at me and said "Mama the arms in this shirt feel funny could I please not wear it?"  (Now it was in a whining voice - but I didn't care - she didn't throw a fit!)  PARENTING VICTORY.  Then she said, "Instead could I wear my 'I'm A Hoot' shirt?"  PARENTING VICTORY #2 -

So I began to poor on the praise. . . .thank you for using words . . . of course you can wear a different shirt . . . that is exactly how mommy & daddy want you to express your feelings. . . . that was so kind . .. etc, etc, etc.

Then she says . . . .

" Yep mom . it's because I'm naked.  It's just easier to be kind when I'm naked"

There you have it.

Truth & Consequences

At bedtime recently L confessed to an act of disobedience.  It was clear that her conscious demanded she tell the truth. However, in the midst of her confession she also lied - trying to hide the disobedience.  As is our custom, there was a consequence for her actions.

She was sorrowful.  She came downstairs lamenting that she had given into the temptation.  Her sobs were from the heart and she was truly repentant.  

In the meantime G also wondered downstairs to inquire as to why L was crying.  We assured her that everything was under control and she needed to return upstairs.  She chose to stay downstairs and thus ultimately received a consequence for her disobedience.  She began weeping.

So now we sat on the couch with two sobbing girls.  It was there that I realized.  One cried out of remorse for her own sin and one cried out of dislike for the consequence.  For L, there was no thought of the consequence and for G there was not thought of the disobedience.

Lord, give me wisdom in parenting these precious girls.  Allow me to help them see their need for a Savior, but also to accept his grace and forgiveness.  Amen!

An Easter Reminder

I left my home grumpy this morning.  It was Easter morning, a day when I should have been more joyful and cheerful.  But alas I fell victim to frustration, pride, vanity, & disappointment.  The very sins for which my Savior died.  And here I was on the way to church to celebrate his victory over the grave with a heart full of sin.

My grumpiness was unfounded; it was prideful and vain.  First there was a battle when it came time to get dressed.  The three year old, who is very sensitive to all stimulus, thought her dress was too "itchy".  She didn't like the waistband and said the dress was uncomfortable.  I dug in my heals.  I had bought her and her sister new Easter dresses, after all.  They were cute and matching.  Michael & I had coordinating colors - so we were going to make a very snappy photograph.  So I fought the battle . . . there were tears (hers, not mine).  And I won.  She wore the dress.  She must learn to like the dress, I reasoned; after all in a couple of years she will wear the dress again - in the bigger size that her sister wears today.  Vanity.

I had hoped to make myself a cup of Chai Latte this morning.  Time ran short.  We raced out the door and the milk sat in the cold refrigerator instead of piping hot in my travel mug.  My disappointment was high.  My pride surfaced - if I didn't have to spend so much time caring for everyone else, I could have made my chai.  There was no love in my heart for those whom I had served.  I also reasoned that if I hadn't needed to engage in the battle of the dress, I could have made my drink.  Pride.

And yet here I was, on my way to church to celebrate the forgiveness which I so badly needed.

As my repentant heart pondered the events of the morning, the Lord reminded me of what did happen this morning. Instead of hunting for Easter eggs or opening Easter presents, I spent 20 minutes on the couch with my girls - reading the Easter Story.  Those 20 minutes were precious and priceless and much better for my soul than a cup of chai would have been for my tummy. And then I looked around the car, we were all in the car together.  All of us.  For the first time that I can remember we all rode together.  Our family took one car to church.  In order to do this we left home a few minutes earlier than I would have if I had been driving just the girls.  It was rare morning when I had to be there a little earlier than usual and Michael could afford to arrive a little later than usual.  There's something about riding together to church as a family that does my heart good.

So by time I reached church, my heart was again joyful.  We were together as a family and I had invested in the right places.  I am so thankful for the Holy Spirit's work in my heart so that I could be reminded of my desperate need for the work my Savior did on the cross.  My celebration of Christ's resurrection was just a little more sweet today.

And we did get a cute picture too - - -but that's not what it was all about.  It's just reminder, again, of God's grace in my life.  :)

Love, Mom

I had a first last week and it was emotional.  At the time I didn't realize it was a first and I had no idea it would choke me up in such a way as it did.

On Valentine's Day I wrote a note to L and put in her lunch box.  She's just learning to read and I thought it would be a fun surprise.  It was simple and to the point . . .

Dear L,
Happy Valentine's Day.
I love you!
Love,
Mom

As I wrote the salutation my eyes filled with tears.  What was it about writing "Love, Mom" that was made me so emotional?  Apparently it was the first time I had written those words.  I've written many expressions with my girls in mind as the audience - namely their scrapbooks and the occasional blog post I put here.  But as I contemplated it I realized this was my first letter (albeit more a note) written directly to one of my children.

Even tonight I am still teary when I type "Love, Mom".  Why was/is the written expression of these words so profound to me?

All of the sudden I felt the weight of being a mom (not the first time I've had that feeling).  I was overcome with the reality of the fact of all that I am to her. 

I wish I could articulate my feelings better.  But tonight I can't - - - - 

My First Birthday Party

Ed. note:  I found this post today - I started it a year ago.  I have no idea why it took me so long to write it, insert pictures, edit it, and then post it.  It just goes to show that . . . the years ARE short.  Since I'm trying to document my life as a mama - it seemed appropriate to go ahead and post it.  Ironically L's next birthday part is just over a week away.  It's not going to be fancy - this year is a science theme.  I wonder how long it will take me to get it posted . . . . . . . . . .

 _____________________________________________________________

 Okay - so it wasn't really my first Birthday Party - but it was the first one I've ever thrown as a mama.  L chose a "Fancy Nancy" theme.  We LOVE Fancy Nancy at our house.  L is Fancy Nancy - at least she'd like to be.  I did a google search for "Fancy Nancy Party Blogs" and got most of my ideas.  My biggest concern pre-party was whether or not we had enough activities to fill the 2 hours. . . . . we didn't - but the girls didn't mind just playing together in our basement.

L got to invite 5 friends - one for every year.  She had to "invite" her sister, but she didn't have to count her as one of the five.  The invitations went out and everyone could come.  I made the invitations by scanning a couple of pages from Fancy Nancy books, cutting, and pasting - and ohh la la - we had a fancy invitation.  The guests were encouraged to "come fancy".

The fancy table - who knew white trash bags and fuschia toule could make anything fancy.  I did purchase Fancy Nancy placemats online - but the other tableservice was from the dollar store.

I also purchase Fancy Nancy stickers for the goody bags.  (We already had the book and the doll.)  The goody bags had several items for the girls to make themselves "fancy":  a bracelet, a ring, a fuchsia feather boa, fuchsia sunglasses, & a sparkly headband.

One of the activities was to make hats.  A hat makes a girl fancy!

We turned tissue paper into flowers, then glued them on paper bowls.  I had put head bands on the bowls to keep them on the girls' heads. 

Not a great picture - but you get the idea.

We had a pinata.  I'm not sure what's fancy about a pinata, but L wanted one and we happened to find one that seemed "Fancy Nancy-ish".

We had a snacks.  Fancy Nancy always eat with her pinky in the air - it's a fancy way of eating.  For dessert we made delectable parfaits.  It was a fun party, but I'm glad I don't have to host another one for a year.

Full Disclosure

I've been thinking alot recently about the things we tell and don't tell our children.  Some things we don't tell them because we want to surprise them (for instance we're going to the Museum of Science & Industry on Monday and it's going to be a TOTAL surprise!)  Other things we don't tell them because we are trying to protect them.  We don't tell them many things about what is going on in the world at large.  They're not ready to understand war, killings, & immorality.  Sure they know people do bad things - but that's enough for now.

But there are other things we don't tell them - things about us; about our family.  We kept a recent loss in our family completely unknown to our two girls.  It's made me think alot:  What did my parents keep from me?  The loss in our life is something the girls will probably eventually want to know - when do we share it with them?  How do we go about it?

Our loss was a second miscarriage.  We'd seen a heartbeat a few weeks earlier and we were literally days away from telling the girls the good news.  The miscarriage resulted in an outpatient procedure.  Our first was at school and our second thought she was simply getting an all day play date with one of her best friends. 

I would think, that being female, my girls would one day like to know about this.  But when do we tell them?  Apparently my own mother had a miscarriage.  I know little about it, but the news was delivered to me at my brother's wedding.  I might have chosen a different time and place to learn about this, but there really wasn't ever a "good" time to just bring it up. 

What else didn't my parents tell me?  From what did they protect me?  Other losses?  Financial hardships?  Who knows, but I know they always had my best interest in mind.

Just like we do.  Should we have shared about the loss with them?  I was so wrapped up in my own grief that I couldn't bear the thought of helping them grieve.  Was the selfish or wise?  I wasn't ready to answer the questions that would come about life & death and about reproduction. 

We make countless decision each week - many of which we do not seek their input, yet most of which affect them directly or indirectly.  In the name of "protecting" them, are we taking away from them the opportunity to process the world in which they live?  As they grow, I'm sure we'll share more with them.  But when do we start and how do we go about it?

I don't expect to get all the answers or to even always get it right . . . . these are just the things that I've been pondering of late.

Kindergarten

Last week, in a more profound way than ever before, I was painfully reminded that years are in fact short. . . . .

L started Kindergarten.  I wept as she got on the bus.  I wept throughout the day and I'm weeping even now as I write about the experience.

On that day I read a blog post the put into words many of my emotions in a way that I could not even begin to process.  The author's words brought me great comfort.

I wasn't sad because she was going to Kindergarten.  I wasn't even sad because time had gone fast.  She was ready; I was ready.  She's almost six, she hasn't been napping for a year, she's been counting the days since early Spring . . . .it was time.  I've known since the day she was born that this day would come, and I was okay with it.

I wept because she was facing the world.  For the first time she would spend large chunks of time out of my reach.  My ability to protect her was waning.  (Yes, I know my ability to protect her is nil, this is God's privilege alone but you know what I mean!)  What if she become the victim of bullying:  she's sweet & innocent - an easy target?  What if she gets frustrated because she doesn't understand a concept or an instruction?  What if she doesn't make friends?  What if no one speaks her love language to her?  What if . . .. What if . . . . What it  . . . . . .??? 

She going to learn things that I don't want her to learn.  I understand that this is why many of my brothers and sisters opt to homeschool their children.  However, we do not believe this is God's plan for our family at this time. 

For me, the start of Kindergarten ushered in a whole new season in my life of trusting God.  It brought a whole new sense of my utter inability to protect my daughter from some of the realities of life.  I am confident that the pain I feel will be real with each transition in her life.  I have been faced with the hard cold reality that much of my sadness is a result of control issues in my own life.  The Holy Spirit has used my times of reflection to show me that my sadness really boils down to the fact that I want to be in control of her life (or at least feel like I'm in control of her life).  STUPID SIN!!

So far she LOVES Kindergarten.  She's a little distraught at the behavior of some of her peers on the 30 minute school bus ride home.  (I expect that within the next couple of weeks, we will remove her from the bus and opt to provide our own transportation for her - at least after school.) 

I'm praying fervently that God will protect her and preserve her.  When the "what ifs" come, I try to pray: confess my anxiety, confess my desire to be in control, and trust.  I'm trying to embrace this season and enjoy her enthusiasm.  All the while knowing that while the days are long, the years are short!

She Gets It!!

When we discipline our children, every once and a while we give them grace instead of a consequence for the offense.  When they are given grace the conversation goes something like this:

Parent:  What did you just do?
Child:  I disobeyed.
P:  What do you deserve?
C: I deserve a consequence.
P:  Today I'm going to give you grace.  What is grace?
C: Grace is when I get something I don't deserve.
P:  What do you deserve?
C: A consequence.
P: Who gives us grace?
C: God gives us grace.
P:  When did God give us grace?
C: When he sent Jesus to die for our sins.
P: So you deserve a spanking, but I'm giving you grace to remind you that I love you.  Just like God loves you so much.  He doesn't want you to have to suffer the consequences of sin so he sent Jesus.  What do you need to say to me?
C: I'm sorry for disobeying.
P: I forgive you and I love you very much.

Recently after going through the dialogue above L looked at me and said,  "Mama - it sure seems to me to God gives me a whole lot more grace than you do!"

I think part of God's grace to me is the humility that comes along with parenting.

So - Are You Done?

Twice in a 24 hour period this week another woman has asked me - so, are you done . . . . ?  The implied question being, "Are you going to have more children?"  Both times it was after I introduced them to my two daughters.

The first person to ask the question was an old friend whom I hadn't seen in 5 1/2 years.  At one point this friend and I shared our lives on a very deep, intimate level.  She knew nearly everything about my life:  my sins, my struggles, my triumphs, my dreams, my joys.  But life has taken us different directions and our paths no longer cross.  We had a chance meeting in a department store which blessed my day more than she will ever know.  But still this question left me with very mixed emotions.

The second person to ask the question was a woman who I was meeting for the first time.  The question came as a part of our initial small talk - although the question is hardly one that falls into the "small talk" category.

Before I continue processing my thoughts on this experience I will say that, ironically, both of these women have known deep sorrow in the area of pregnancy, conception, and birth.  Both have lost children both before and after giving birth.  Both have the blessing of being a mom now, but both long to know the children whom the Lord has already taken home.  So perhaps this place of deep sorrow and profound hope gives them a different approach to the question.  I imagine that this is a question both women ask the Lord about themselves.

It is a question that I too ask the Lord - often.  And it is a question that dumps a bucket of inadequacy on my soul. The question makes me feel like having two children isn't enough.  That I am somehow less of a mom if I'm willing to stop at only two children.  The thing is - we want to have more children.  We have been "trying" for over 2 years.  We have asked the Lord to either allow us to become pregnant or to bring us (and by us, I mean me) contentment.  At the moment, he has answered both prayers with a "no".

I have labored over this question and the decisions that we might make as a result of the answer to it.  For insurance purposes if we are "done" it would be financially beneficial to make it surgically final and thus drop the maternity rider I carry on my policy.  But I struggle with whether or not there are theological issues involved.  Are we wrong to take such a bold step in our family planning when ultimately it is God who controls my ability to conceive a child?

Why do I sometimes feel inadequate with only two children.  Is it an issue of pride?  Do I feel like I need more children to prove that I am capable of managing more chaos?  Why can I not choose contentment on this issue?  There's a deep feeling in the bottom of my soul that our family is not complete.  Is that from the Lord confirming we are not "done" or is it from the enemy sewing seeds of discontentment in my heart?  Wisdom says we're done - primarily for financial reasons, but also for some health reasons - both physical and emotional.  But God is bigger than money & sanity.

I'm sure that the women who asked the question - did it innocently.  Little did they know the well of emotion and turmoil it would stir in my soul.  Just because I would NEVER ask the question first, doesn't mean that they were wrong to ask.  On one hand I admire their boldness; on the other hand I'm hurt by their insensitivity.  (In the spirit of full disclosure, I will admit that after muffling my way through a response to their question, I asked them both the same thing.)

As I've done in the past when the question was posed, I found a way to waffle and give a non-answer - mumbling something about the fact that it's all in God's hands.  I'll be asked the question again - maybe tomorrow, you just never know.  There's something about being my age and stage of life that puts a target on  my back for being the recipient of the question.  My prayers is just that one of these days I'll be able to answer the question with peace, contentment, confidence, and assurance.  Until then I'll cry my tears in private and trust the keeper of my soul to give me wisdom and contentment.

A Little Relaxing

I tried to have some "me" time last night.  My feet were aching, Michael was gone for the night, the kids were in bed . . . . the perfect night for a hot soak in the tub.

I drew the hot water . . . .it was calling my name.  Before I could get in, L wandered into the bathroom - who knows why.  She started asking questions about the tub full of hot water.  Before she left the bathroom she felt compelled to put her hand in the water to "test the temperature". 

Thinking she was gone for the night, I settled in to begin my hot soak.  Over the course of the next 10-15 minutes she found reason to be back in the bathroom 3 times.  Each time under the pretense of some burning question or a need to use the toilet.  And each time - needing to test the water before she left the room.

I was starting to feel sorry for myself - will I ever get 5 minutes to myself?  Will I ever be able to relax in private?  Just then I had about 7 minutes with no interruptions - maybe it was possible to relax after all.  Just as I was closing my eyes and really relaxing I hear movement in G's room.  Then the small 3 year old voice, "Mommy,  mommy . . . . .I have to go poopy."

The days AND evenings are long . . . but I know the years are short.  The long hot baths may have to wait for a few more years.

Common Sense

L is struggling to learn her letters and sounds.  She's still young, so I'm not concerned.  However she does have common sense - which will take her far in life!

Tonight she says to me:
"Mom, I have four families of cousins."  I, not having any clue what she means, ask some clarifying questions.  She continues:

"Well I have cousins in two families on your side and cousins in two families on Daddy's side.  In fact, Mommy - it I have two pairs of cousins."

Then later tonight I was trying to explain to G why she had to go to bed even though it wasn't dark outside.  L says, "I remember this from last year.  Last summer it stayed light longer - so light and dark must go around in a pattern."

That's my girl!!!

The End of My Rope

It's been a long day here - a long couple of days.  I'm at the end of my rope.  Unfortunately, I took it out on the girls this afternoon. 

As we were driving home from our errands - which were incomplete due to my haste which added to my frustration, L announces, "I'm at the end of my rope.  I'm just so tired and I'm done."  I replied, "I know honey, I am too!"  Then L turns to G and says, "G are you at the end of your rope?"  In her sweet 2 year old voice, G says, "Nope!!". 

In a very sarcastic tone I pipe in with, "Oh I'm so glad, it's always good for at least one person in a group to not be at the end of their rope."  L then says in the most sincere way, "Mom, I really think it would be best if the mommy is the one who isn't at the end of her rope."

I laughed until I cried.  And somehow that provided the therapy I needed to climb up the rope just a little bit. 

He Will Turn Your Mourning Into Dancing

Recently in church we sang three songs that brought tears of Joy to my eyes.  I couldn't help but reflect on the fact that for nearly the last two years every time we sang any of those three songs I would often have to stop singing due to tears of sorrow.

The last two years have been difficult for our family.  Some of the trials have been well documented and lived very publicly.  Anyone can guess that L's illness & diagnosis, our family's 3 months of separation in early 2011, our family's three moves in 8 months were times of trial.

However, the events leading up to our first move and the departure from Michael's first ministry position were equally emotionally traumatic to us.  However, we lived that particular trial in a much more private way.  Our silence on the trial remains and we believe the Lord has blessed our commitment to trust him for justice and reconciliation.  There were other private trials as well including a miscarriage, of which we have rarely shared about with others.

The realization that we are "on this side" of the trials was overwhelming to me.  How exciting to look back over the last two years and see God's repeated faithfulness to our family.  He has met our physical, emotional, & spiritual needs in ways that we would have never imagined possible.  It's humbling to be a recipient of such incredible provision at every turn of our life. 

I can now celebrate that L is healthy again, our gluten free diet seems manageable, we are in a healthy church family, Michael loves his ministry position & is pursuing his life long dream of doctoral studies, and we are settled into our home - one which we hope to be in for a long time.

Today, I can truly sing each of these song with joy. They express exactly what is in my heart as I celebrate God's leading in my life.  They expressed exactly what was on my heart during some of the above mentioned trials and they continue to express my emotion as closure has come to the trials.

Blessed Be the Name of the Lord

Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name

Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name

Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name

Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name

Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name

It Is Well With My Soul

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, When sorrows like sea billows roll; Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say, It is well, it is well, with my soul. Refrain: It is well, with my soul, It is well, it is well, with my soul. Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, Let this blest assurance control, That Christ has regarded my helpless estate, And hath shed His own blood for my soul. My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought! My sin, not in part but the whole, Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more, Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul! For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live: If Jordan above me shall roll, No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul. But, Lord, ’tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait, The sky, not the grave, is our goal; Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord! Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul! And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight, The clouds be rolled back as a scroll; The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend, Even so, it is well with my soul.

Still

Hide me now
Under Your wings
Cover me
Within Your mighty hand

When the oceans rise and thunders roar
I will soar with You above the storm
Father you are King over the flood
I will be still and know You are God

Find rest my soul
In Christ alone
Know His power
In quietness and trust

When the oceans rise and thunders roar
I will soar with You above the storm
Father You are king over the flood
I will be still and know You are God

Christmas Lists

Editor's Note:  I'm running a little behind in blog posts - this has been written for weeks, I just haven't taken the time to add the photo.

Since June L has wanted a doll house for Christmas.  Almost weekly she would recount for me the things on her list - and they never changed.  As her good fortune would have it, a couple of the things on her list were given to her for her birthday in October.  She did have to spend a couple of weeks deciding what she would add to her list to replace the received gifts.  However, the doll house remained consistently at the top of her list.  Michael & I decided that we would invest in a doll house and I started researching our options.  Through God's amazing and ongoing provision, we were gifted a second hand Fischer-Price three story doll house with all the accessories.  We were thrilled with the gift and joyfully hid it in the crawl space, eagerly awaiting Christmas morning.

The week before Christmas L announced that she had taken the doll house off her Christmas list.  "Why", we inquired.  Her response, "I think a doll house is too big for Santa to get on his sleigh and into our house.  So I'm just going to ask him for slippers, a snowglobe, and a pretty dress."  She had a daddy-daughter date with Michael scheduled and had requested a trip to the mall to visit the jolly old man.  We suggested that she could ask him about the size of the doll house and the logistics.  However, she politely declined and stuck to her new list. 

Thankfully, on Christmas morning she came downstairs and was beyond delighted to see a doll house by her stocking.