Called to Grow

Adjustments

2010-08-16T14:24:00.000-04:00

Change is good, right? Sometimes I wonder. Although usually I receive opportunities for change with open arms I am finding transitions lately to be a bit of a challenge. It isn’t so much that I am set in my ways or enjoy my current routine enough that I do not want to take on anything different, but the changes I am feeling called to make are new territory for me.

I don’t want to have to really evaluate a few things, only a few, I am not good at. But I am certain God has put a path in front of me which will force me to take action in some areas of my life I have been completely ignoring. There are some things I prefer to ignore as long as they do not relate to the health and well being of my family. But I suppose if they are things that God has commanded His people to do I should probably find a way to come up with a little follow-through.

What I find so comical about the situation is that none of the things He wants me to do are that difficult. Really the most difficult challenge will be purging some ineffective habits and creating new ones. But the routine I have created is so utterly comfortable…and yet completely unproductive to achieve the goals He has set forth…and I have accepted. Yep, I was asked by one of His agents to do something, knowing it would take some significant changes, I said yes…really, what was I thinking.

So as First Born takes off to third grade and Small One tackles kindergarten I will have my own challenges and adjustments to make. I pray God guides me through this process He has called me to, and I feel His presence every step of the way.

Judgmental People

2010-07-27T20:09:00.000-04:00

I have determined I do not like judgmental people. You know, the ones who are always looking down their nose at someone and finding fault with nearly everyone they encounter. Their choices, lifestyles, family and work are always better, more fun, healthier and more perfect that those around them. I don’t know what makes people this way. I am certain it is often times caused by an internal feeling of inferiority. Certainly if someone is less something you must be good enough, right? Sometimes I think people just don’t know any better.

I used to love being one of the judgmental people. I wouldn’t have been called a “Chatty Kathy” but the term “Catty Kathy” would certainly have applied. Not only did I find myself greatly entertained by poking fun but I was one of the “don’t know any betters’.” I thought one of the most fun ways to spend an afternoon was hanging at the mall looking at all the what part of that did she think looked good when she checked the mirror this morning people. Oh the sheer joys in finding fault with others poor taste in clothing, or hairstyle, or gait, or who they chose to be with. Snicker, snicker, “what was she THINKING?”

And then somewhere along the way I came to know better. I realized that finding fault with others isn’t really very funny and never really made me feel any better. It is not nice nor is it not biblical. I have come a long way from the catty girl I once was, but every now and then a bit of snippiness flits through my brain…but now it never makes it past my lips. See, I try to remember I have a beam in my eye.

So now I find myself in a dilemma. I don’t want to be judgmental nor do I like judgmental people. But by determining I do not like someone for being judgmental am I thereby judging them myself? And if I tell someone I think they are being judgmental am I then putting my own judgment to voice? I don’t know how to sever judgmental people from my life, but I am finding keeping them is more trouble than they are worth.

For He Existed

2010-06-04T12:21:00.002-04:00

Today, the two year anniversary of my father's death and the eve of the spreading of his ashes, I find my brain swirling with memories and stalling with what to do next. I ache with the memories of this day two years ago and I rejoice with the knowledge that dad is pain free.

I don't know what emotions tomorrow will bring...the hike to his final resting place is exhausting in and of itself. There will be people there, probably too many for true peace to surround me. It is a moment I suspect I will want to be in solitude and allow myself time to be introspective. Alas, with fourteen others with me, I know this will be a challenge. If God so chooses I know He will facilitate the peace my heart desires.

As I think of tomorrow and reminisce the words of Maya Angelou fill my head...I think I have reached the place of blooming peace. Although sporadic and unhurried the moments do come, and I think God for them, and know my heart is healing.

When Great Trees Fall
Maya Angelou

When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,
and even elephants
lumber after safety.

When great trees fall
in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses
eroded beyond fear.

When great souls die,
the air around us becomes
light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,
see with
a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
examines,
gnaws on kind words
unsaid,
promised walks
never taken.

Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
nurture,
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by their
radiance,
fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of dark, cold
caves.

And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.

Thank you Dr. Angelou for knowing my heart.

The Grief is Threatening to Swallow Me

2010-06-03T09:59:00.000-04:00

The week has become agonizingly painful…as the time of dispersion slowly creeps closer. I am seeking a diversion, any diversion will do. Today I am going shopping for new bathroom linens, which should distract for a few hours at least. The fighting of the children, although exhausting, brings welcome diversion from the grief threatening to swallow me whole.

Small One is begging to “see Papa” in the canister. I don’t mind so much that she wants to see what the ashes look like; I just can’t bring myself to comfortably open the lid. I am certain I will have no ability to answer the flowing river of questions that would follow. How, what, where, did it hurt, yadda, yadda…yes, it will be a never-ending learning quest for this Small One.

First Born perceives my agony. He is offering tender hugs and making great effort to divert Small One’s incessant antics. Although he does not handle her entirely with grace his patience with her amazes me beyond belief. His awareness of my pain, his ability to read me, reminds me so much of his Papa who is now canistered on the mantle. How did this boy get so much of the man we are preparing to take to his final resting place? Through God’s divine plan First Born has received the best of Papa well blended with the patience and heart of his Papaw creating an amazing gift to parent.

I don’t know how I will get through the next seventy-two hours. I suppose an organized checklist will get me to the base of the mountain; and then one foot in front of the other will get me to the top. I know my Father in heaven has given me the inner strength to overcome the earthly pain, as He did when Dad died. I found out then if I remember to let go of the grief to His care I will find much more inside than I ever imagined.

For now I will pray for a steady breeze to carry him across the mountain tops, the place where he found his strength and where he belongs.

Christ's Sacrifice and Euthanasia

2010-03-24T21:35:00.001-04:00

The following is a topic I was assigned to write about for a class discussion board. Because it is a topic close to my heart due to personal experience I decided to share it here too. The assignment was to "Review the Feldman reading this week about euthanasia and assisted suicide as well as the online article on Christ's physical death. Many argue that assisted suicide or euthanasia is justified because it relieves a person from suffering. What are your thoughts about euthanasia, given what Christ did for us?" and the article referenced was the physical death of Jesus Christ.

This is such a difficult topic to address, and which does one address first? How do I personally feel about euthanasia and how does that relate to what Christ did for us on the cross?

We will never be able to know the suffering and pain Christ felt during His final twenty-four hours. In my most extreme imaginations I can’t even grasp a hint of the torture He endured…for me, and for you as well. There are no punishment practices today that can compare to the brutal acts against Jesus Christ so we have no real point of reference when thinking of the severity of His experience.

What we do know is this from Isaiah 53:

³ He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

⁴ Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted.

⁵ But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.

Christ received the worst possible punishment, set aside for “murders and serial killers” (Hammond, p. 12). Not only was He punished, He was humiliated in front of the multitudes. He took upon Himself all the sins of the world and allowed our human actions to separate Him from the Father, and He went to hell in our place. No greater sacrifice has been, or ever could be, made.

But part of what He did when He received all the sin of mankind is He received our punishment, sickness and disease, as well. He took “our infirmities and carried our sorrows.” Throughout the bible God tells us that illness is a curse, an evil tool of Satan. Jesus’ wounds gave us the authority to claim healing and be free from pain and disease, suffering and misery.

When looking at this scripture, I am torn. I know we should not have to suffer, but we should also be able to claim healing. We all know healing does not always come, for reasons we can never know on earth. But we do know He paid the price and therefore we should not suffer.

In light of this fact I feel that euthanasia is an acceptable practice within certain parameters. If a person is terminal, and there is no quality of life, and they are suffering either physical or emotional pain I believe euthanasia is a way to claim God’s freedom from misery that Christ took for us on the cross.

I personally have been present for both the death of my father and my mother-in-law. Although I made the call to have my fathers machines turned off I still would have written the scenario differently. I can tell you in both instances the precise moment I would have chosen for them to be set free of this world. And in both cases that moment came prior to the final breath, the cease of their heartbeat and the liberation from this life.

(Sidenote: this post gave my husband and I moments of deep conversation and the writing moved me to tears.)

Feldman, R. S. (2008). Development across the life span. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Pearson Prentice Hall.

Hammond, L. (2007). When Healing Doesn't Come Easily. Minneapolis, MN: Lynne Hammond Ministries.

^{^[1]} The Holy Bible : New International Version. 1996 (electronic ed.) (Is 53:3–5). Grand Rapids: Zondervan.

Options...there always are some.

2010-03-15T08:17:00.002-04:00

Sometimes choices are difficult to make. Sometimes situations are so unpleasant it may feel like there is no obvious solution and certainly not multiple solutions. There are often situations where any course of action will create additional unpleasantness. I do not recall in my lifetime ever being presented with a circumstance which had any less that two possible resolutions.

Recently I was having a conversation with an adult about a situation where she vehemently assured me there was “no other option!” Her insistence left me a bit befuddled and wondering why someone would refuse to acknowledge any alternative. Although most of the options were unpleasant for someone, the choice she made was wrought with challenges as well.

Although I have not always made the best choices in life I have always recognized that they were available. As a grade-schooler I could have chosen to do my homework neatly and accurately the first time before I went out to play so I wouldn’t have to redo it after dinner and right before bed. In junior high I could have picked a nice boy to have a crush on, instead I chose the rough and tumble boys from the bad part of the neighborhood (they were way more exciting, and my parents did not approve). In high school I could have gone to all my classes and been on time, instead I spent a good bit of time ditching classes, running from the Narc and having a blast doing so. In college I could have begun my papers at the beginning of the semester when I received the syllabus, but opted for waiting until the last minute and staying up all night to produce eight or ten pages of beautifully bullshitted prose (oh yeah, I made up a lot of that stuff and LOVED every one of those passing grades I received). I could have opted not to marry my first husband…yep, that one was a bad choice. I may not have acknowledged it at the time, but I’m pretty sure there was an option to driving home after drinking…many times. I could have abstained form sex until I was married, left abusive relationships, not had my children…in each of the situations there were always other options.

Now that I am a parent I am presented with completely different situations requiring difficult choices between multiple options. I want to raise strong, smart, capable and independent children…this means I can’t always bail them out, give in to their wants, believe them above no one else. I have to teach them about giving and responsibility. I would love to hand a large sum of cash to my son whose class is in competition with the others to raise money for the Haiti victims, but if I do this what will he learn about personal sacrifice? When he loses points for talking in class I could choose to allow him to blame someone else for drawing him into conversation; which I would love to do because I want my baby to be perfect and sweet and never in trouble. When my precious girl throws a fit because she wants only peanut butter and fluff sandwiches for dinner I would love to say “She won’t eat anything else, there is no other option.” But then what would I be teaching her about life and consequences of her actions? Do I want them to believe that I will always be there to bail them out and rely on no matter what, take up for them even when they are in the wrong, hand them what ever their hearts desire, and take care of all the difficult options they have before them? No, I do not want them to go through life this way. I want them to realize there are always choices to make and sometimes they are not fun...because I may not always be there, and they may not always be right, and sometimes what a person wants is certainly not in their best interest.

I Love Facebook, but....

2010-01-25T17:54:00.002-05:00

I love Facebook, probably too much. Ok, so I am perhaps addicted to Facebook, isn’t admitting there is a problem the first step to recovery? Not only do I like getting a quick catch up on my friends through their status updates, but I really enjoy seeing how people have changed and what kind of spouse they found and what their offspring look like.

The source of my addiction though is my farm…my beloved crops and barns, and cows and chickens, pigs, lambs, elephants, and the trees-I have hundreds of them. I love my farm and wait with eager anticipation for my crops to mature so I can harvest and plant again. I am obsessed with “mastering” each fruit and vegetable and I dedicate at least one visit each day to check on my ribbons. I also love that it is not cutthroat competitive, unlike my sweet Sorority Life and my majorly powerful Mafia. I check these each day too, but with a little less love than my farm.

But lately I have found another part of Facebook I am not sure I love…or even like for that matter. Some of those people, you know the ones from the WAY past, do not necessarily bring good thoughts or feelings with them. That boy you loved for so many years in grade school who never paid any attention to you…well except to tell you that you wore boy’s jeans and they made you act like a tomboy. The class bully who believed the class idiot to justify a fight. Oh and that guy who was such a nerd and you always picked on him…no real reason other than the fact that you could. The girl who loved to tell others she was more popular than everyone...and strangely she was. The boy who got kicked really hard in the groin. You see these faces and wonder “what are they doing now?” For me it is like a moth to a flame, a bee to a flower in bloom; I am drawn in and can’t stop the click. I have to look to see if they have turned out well or if their life has gone to crap (sometimes hoping for the latter). I cannot resist.

For the most part I check out job info, schools attended/degrees earned, and photos. I look to see if there is a webpage or a blog listed. If they have links I of course peruse those as well. It is amazing what you can learn about someone without them even knowing you are looking.

But some of these have left me with a pit in my stomach and sorrow in my heart. Have they really changed as much as it appears? Would they ever believe how much I have changed? Wouldn’t it be interesting to have a do-over on that relationship? Wow, now all that mess makes sense…

I have found myself wanting see some, and pray for many. I say “want” to pray, but haven’t yet. There are people who want to be prayed for by anyone. But there are people who would likely rather not be prayed for, especially by someone who they were not on speaking terms with the last time they laid eyes on each other. How offended would they be to know that I found out about the cancer, the broken relationship, the weight gain? And is there anything out there that I don't want them to know about me?

In all likelihood I will pray for them, and hope that Facebook leaves better left forgotten memories truly forgotten.

Sometimes...be still

2010-01-01T22:28:00.000-05:00

Sometimes the demons creep in when you aren’t looking, or paying attention and thus you are not wary or on guard. Sometimes the demons hide themselves so skillfully even when you are looking they still manage to get close, and get in…and get hold.

It is when they get hold that my world begins to slow, and eventually move in reverse taking me back to places I don’t want to go; places that scared me then and horrify me now…places no one can understand. And when I enter those places forward progress is impossible, growth comes to a screeching halt, and sometimes I feel I can’t even put on foot in front of the other. It is in these times I forget where I am supposed to put my trust, even questioning why I ever thought there was such an outlet for all the baggage I am certain I carry alone. The world turns grey and the shadows are in every direction I turn.

I have found that my demons were distracted recently though, or quite possibly I found a modicum of sensibility in my disoriented brain, and a few points of their attack were discovered. Funny, the strongholds I created against them still stand; they came from directions I never would have expected, hiding in trusted places I thought were safe…and they left me doubting, questioning, defending and attacking.

What to do about them now is the question, quite a conundrum, for they have come so close their place of residence cannot be severed from my world. It would be as difficult to remove their host as it would be to remove my own arm. The bloody buggers were smart this time, and have produced a dilemma.

The beauty of the situation is I know I have strength for all things in Christ Who empowers me [I am ready for anything and equal to anything through Him Who ^a]">[a]infuses inner strength into me; I am ^b]">[b]self-sufficient in Christ's sufficiency].Phil 4:13 (Amplified). I know that I know that I know this for He has proven it to me before when life completely took my breath away and left me deflated and lost. All I need to do is release it to Him and hold on to the promises He gave me.

For the moment I will be still and know that He is God (Psalm 46:10), and in the stillness I will listen and hear when He speaks to me.

Sharathon

2009-10-01T13:16:00.001-04:00

As a first time volunteer answering phones at Love 89 Sharathon I am moved to share some thought and insight to the situation and atmosphere in the studio.
For the past two and a half days I have spent five hours sitting by the phones and answering calls. When I initially arrived on Tuesday the atmosphere was jovial, excited, and full of energy. Each ring of the phone brought smiles and cheers from both the Love 89 staff and the volunteers. Everyone was filled with hope for the coming days and hours and reaching the operating budget goal.
As the days have progressed the volume of calls has decreased and so have the pledges. The situation at the moment has the station funded at barely over 50% of the upcoming year.
For me this is a difficult thing to see. Love 89 has made a huge impact on me and my family. The first time I decided to give what inspired me was the sound of silence…knowing if they did not receive the funding they needed that is what I would hear when my dial hit 89.1. At that moment I knew I needed to do my part.
Now, years later, I have come to know some of the Love 89 staff on a personal level. My children view the DJ’s as family and beg to attend all the remote events where they will have an opportunity to see them, talk to them, and hug them. My pledge has increased each year in spite of the grim economic climate we currently find ourselves. I KNOW GOD will make the way for me to meet the pledge he has put on our hearts to commit.
Now as I sit here in “Telephone Central” looking at a silent phone my heart breaks. I know these people, care about them, and their families. I also care deeply about the call that God has put on their hearts and lives to do His work in this community.
This Sharathon is more than a few dollars to hear a few songs on the way to work and get a traffic update. This is people’s livelihoods and callings; God’s calling answered and fulfilled. These families who are willing to change their own lifestyles to answer His call and serve us…the listeners.
The people you are hearing on the radio are passionate about their callings, and their listeners. They have heard His call and they serve. And now they sit here trying to express the urgency for funding to keep God’s ministry flowing through our community. What they are not telling you, and what you cannot see, is this is their very livelihood in jeopardy. This call God has placed on them puts the food on their tables and clothes on their backs. Children are loved under their roofs and families are connected and bonded through this amazing family born of this radio station.
For me, any gift I may have to work a little harder for, cut something small out of my budget, or even something large is worth the sacrifice to know these people are able to continue their work. Answering His call can sometimes be a difficult thing; they do it graciously, happily, and thoroughly. I for one, choose to step up, make a difference, and do what I can so my friends will be able to continue their work for Him.

If you can help, or know someone who can, I encourage you to call 865-934-6089 or visit www.love89.org

Too Close For Comfort

2009-09-01T15:32:00.000-04:00

Today I find myself still somewhat reeling with shock and awe. Although I know our world is filled with wickedness I somehow try to maintain optimism that it will never strike too close to home. I am occasionally caught in unfortunate dilemmas requiring me to step back and reevaluate a circumstance, but this past weekend I found myself touched to the core and am still struggling to make sense of the situation.

I don’t think murder ever really makes sense. Sometimes, maybe, as retribution for horrendous acts against a child, I can get my brain around what would drive a person to this heinous act. But as an act of spite, or vengeance against another adult for a breakup, or a horrible divorce, adultery, theft; I just don’t get it. Even as I type I am sitting in an attorneys office as moral support to a friend who is in divorce mediation. Although I have been angry at her soon to be ex-spouse, and I know she has been too, I can’t imagine a reason to actually kill him. He is, after all, the father of her children and no matter how ugly they might be/have been to each other he doesn’t deserve physical punishment.

So this past weekend when I learned of a murder/suicide in Knoxville I was a bit surprised. We do have hardcore violence occasionally here, but it is rare I hear about it. I don’t read the paper regularly and tend to forgo the nightly news for children’s activities and family time. So the simple fact that I am aware of this incident makes it remarkable in my mind.

A vibrant young woman, who was a single mother, was shot and killed outside her home last Friday after returning from dropping her child off at school. The shooter then turned the gun on himself and took his own life. The two had a history, some of it publicized in the news media, spanning a number of years. Although I cannot speak to the validity of the reports the relationship had supposedly been tumultuous and terminated at some point.

This woman happened to be the mother of one of First Born’s friends, peers, and classmate. My brain reels to grasp what would push someone to this point. To kill the mother of a young child, leaving her world turned upside down, to me would require some sort of delirium, or insanity beyond my comprehension. The act in and of itself so violent it turns my stomach, and the thought of this child leaves me unable to breathe, suffocating in my sorrow for her.

There are many things I feel shouldn’t ever have to happen in a persons life. No one should have to explain to their second grader that their friend’s mother has been killed. And certainly no one should ever have to tell a second grade girl her mother is forever gone, torn from her life, by some undeserved act of violence. This incident, unfortunately, is not one I was able to keep at arms length.

Heavenly Father,

I pray for this extended family, that they have the strength and sanity to guide this child through the excruciating days ahead. I pray they have the gifts of guidance to steer her as she navigates her life without her mother. I pray for this child, that someday she receives the peace that surpasses all understanding, knowing she is safe in Your hand and that in spite of the immediate pain, all things work to some greater good (although at this point, any reason completely escapes me). I pray she is surrounded by loving hearts, caring hands, and all the warmth You can provide.

In Jesus sweet, sweet name.
Amen

Wordless Wednesday: Brookgreen Gardens Monuments & Moments

2009-08-26T09:33:00.012-04:00

Life Expected

2009-08-24T14:30:00.000-04:00

When I was a girl I often thought of how my life would be when I grew up. I probably thought about this more than most little girls because I knew I would one day be able to escape a really messed up home with really messed up values. The picture I painted for myself always had a nice house, a handsome husband (always an Air Force pilot since I spent ten years of my life at living at the Air Force Academy), and a couple of kids. There were rarely any details of the house and the people in the family were faceless, but they were safe and consistent and usually sober.

When I actually had the opportunity to leave home for college I picked a school 2500 miles away from my parents. I knew their visits would be less frequent than at a school close, and fewer visits meant fewer confrontations. The problem was I was a pretty messed up young lady who made some very bad choices. To say I was reckless would be an understatement…I lived on the wild side, and thrived on adrenaline and risk taking. Most brilliant decisions were accompanied by a Crown and Coke or a Moose Head which made decisions all the more brilliant.

I got married in college to a pretty nice guy. He wasn’t the love of my life, but he was fun and handsome and we could put away equal amounts of beer in any given night. We spent a couple of years having fun then a little over a year being miserable and finally parted ways.

After this the recklessness ensued again. I loved being single and wild and partying and sleeping late. I didn’t have to answer to anyone and really liked it that way. This wild single life would be short lived because I met my Hero on a blind date and began our life together…faithless, unmarried, and both carrying an exhausting amount of baggage.

Fast forward ten year, skipping a whole lot of details, we are filled with love for our Lord, passionate for each other, and blessed with two beautiful, healthy children. We have our dream home, and paid for cars, and a church we love. Needless to say, life is GOOD!

After the conference I went to this weekend I really thought about what I had wanted out of life. What I have received is SO much better than I ever could have dreamed. I am truly amazed at how good God has been to me; protecting me from myself when I cared so little I almost died, salvaging a relationship with the father of my children, giving me the strength to handle all the things Satan has thrown against me.

I am so thankful I didn’t get the life I expected, the husband I imagined, the way I thought it was going to be. I am blessed beyond belief, and wouldn’t have it any other way.

Heavenly Father,
Thank you for not giving me the life I expected. Thank you for the blessings you have bestowed on me and my family.
I pray today for all my friends to find the blessings in their life which are so much better than they expected.
In Jesus sweet, sweet name,
Amen

Well Fed

2009-08-23T15:09:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I am totally amazed at the sheer volume of awesomeness God can pack into a short women’s conference. This weekend is no exception and my cup runneth over and my appetite is satiated.

Friday night I got to pick up my friend Lynn and head off to Sevier Heights Baptist Church for the Fresh Grounded Faith Conference. I was super excited for the fellowship time with Lynn and equally excited for the speakers who were at the conference. The anticipation was great as we arrived seeing all the women from east Tennessee arriving knowing God had great things in store for us. From the moment we walked in I knew He was there to meet me, and feed me, and love me in this place.

I received so many meaningful and profound nuggets Friday and Saturday I find it challenging to truly give them each the time and thought they deserve. I expect as I take the time to meditate over the lessons I learned, pray over the meaning He wants me to pull from the experience, and grow in spirit through this conference I will find I have a lot of things to write about. But for now I will bask in His glory, receive His love and rest.

Mathew 11: 28-30 Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly. (The Message)

Lynn and I before praise and worship began. Isn't she cute!

Friday Find

2009-08-21T08:36:00.007-04:00

Since it’s Friday, and I like Fridays and fun things and finding fun things, I wanted to share one of my most recent “finds.” I frequently check out advertisers links on blogs, especially ones on the blogs I like and especially the advertisers who are other bloggers. This particular product caught my eye as I was hopping through blogs last week.

Out of the Box is one of the coolest finds I have run across lately. I love self pampering, trying new products, and value. I found all three of these with Out of the Box.

The concept is simple. Businesses send their sample product to Michelle. Michelle takes all the samples and certificates from the businesses and puts them in an adorable box. I buy the box and eagerly wait to see what fabulous goodies are to be found inside.

The box I received last week has some AWESOME stuff inside. There are numerous decadent full-size soaps; my favorite are the ones that look and smell exactly like the Circus Peanuts candy I enjoyed at my Papaw’s house as a child (and the things to enjoy there were few). YUMMY! Ant the cutest Rainbow Bright magnet, yep that brought back sweet memories too. The scented candles too are awesome, and yes I mean candles as in multiple. Lovely artistic greeting cards and sweetly scented lotions, fun things for a relaxing bath and a gorgeous artsy pin all brought a smile to my face as I delved into the box. It was SO much fun to receive and open.
All of the treasures found in this box, if acquired individually would require stops at endless websites, retyping addresses and probably paying for multiple shipping (even on samples) would likely cost $40-$60. The value of the samples themselves, especially the full size ones, is extraordinary. The total cost of this Friday Find is a mere $22 including shipping! That, my friends, is a steal. This is so much more fun that a trip to the mall for “shopping therapy” when I am blue, and doesn’t leave me with a credit card bill at the end of the month either.

I suspect I will find myself anxiously awaiting the availability of next month’s box weeks before it becomes available. I am also certain I will purchase these boxes in the future as gifts, and if I am unwilling to give a whole box as a gift the items would be awesome additions to gift baskets, stocking stuffers or just thoughtful pick-me-ups for friends.

Are there any drawbacks to Out of the Box you may ask? Yes, two. One is that there are enough products I know I will not have the supply exhausted in one month. And two, if I purchase a box as a gift for a friend it is unlikely I will be able to gift it without peeking inside first. Michelle has a simple to maneuver website where you can find listings of all the contributors and any coupons they may be offering. She acknowledges orders very quickly and my box was shipped within 24 hours of my purchase.

I love this Friday Find and hope you all do too!

Trusted

2009-08-20T12:53:00.007-04:00

Trust is such a small word with huge meaning, if you really think about it. Every time we share something about ourselves it takes an act of trust. I put my phone number in the church directory because I trust it will not be misused. When I meet new people I share about my family and where I live and things I enjoy doing. I trust people generally, and since I always try to see the glass as half full I rarely suspect things I share will be used against me or cause me harm.

But there are definitely levels of trust. I probably wouldn’t trust everyone I call friend with my house for a week, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t trust them to get the mail. I have teenage babysitters who I trust for an evening with keeping our children, but would never have them do an overnight. I have some friends who earning trust is about as easy as pulling teeth with tweezers. That’s okay for them, and I am thrilled to have earned the trust of them. I have other friends like myself who trust first, and then only pull back if they experience something negative.

Today I got to enjoy a very high level of trust by one of my dear friends. I was entrusted to care for her most prized possession, the thing she experienced more pain and suffering to get, and she is likely willing to kill to protect. I am excited and honored to experience trust like this today.

Do you know what I was entrusted with?

Yes, a day with a precious three month old, especially for a mom who will never have one again, is an absolute blessing, and I appreciate that I am entrusted with a task such as this.

And in case my ability faltered Lola was "On Watch" the entire time!

Wordless Wednesday: Brookgreen Gardens Moments

2009-08-19T19:10:00.000-04:00

These are two of the four readings which were read at Dad's memorial service. He would have loved these gardens.

Tuesday Thinking

2009-08-18T12:29:00.000-04:00

Today I am thinking about things…lots of them. The volume of thoughts is probably in direct correlation to the level of silence in my house. IT IS COMPLETELY QUIET! And I am loving it.

Currently bantering about in my head is what to do as a stay at home mom when the kids go back to school, which they both did yesterday. Obviously (I think), I should probably work on the list I had for summer projects but didn’t quite get done…or started for that matter.

What I am really spending the most time thinking about is how to most effectively manage my time. What will I be doing each day while I’m home, and what I will do on the days I am not at home? I foresee a high need for time flexibility in my future.

I am planning on substitute teaching for the school system. Since this can be a feast or famine job I know I need to plan for days of out of the home and days in the home, not knowing which will be more frequent.

Both schools have encouraged joining the PTA/PTL, which I will probably do…since the main purpose of leaving the rat race was to do mom stuff. The next question is how active do I want to be as a Classroom Mother…not sure yet on this one. I love both schools and want to spend time in both, but I’m not sure about this specific commitment. I do love, love, love the Learning Expeditions with the elementary school and will participate in as many of those as I can.

So what do I do at home…I’m thinking of creating my own chart for the minimum daily requirements for days spent out of the house and a separate list of things to do during days in the house. Knowing myself as well as I do I am certain nothing will get done if it is not on a list to be checked off (yeah, I’m that girl).

So as I go through this next week I will be prioritizing…laundry, exercise, ebaying, dog walking (vs. letting them play outside all day), scanning, sorting, purging, de-cluttering, shopping, pedicure-ing, reading, cooking, playing, praying, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

Stay tuned for an update as to what is vital to our daily well being as well as which things can continue to be pushed on down the to do list.

Back to School

2009-08-17T10:41:00.000-04:00

Somehow I was not expecting them both to be ready to head out the door at 6:30 am. Bless their excited little hearts!

She couldn't get out of the car fast enough. "Mommy there are other cars already here!!" Sparkle (Fluffy sleep friend) was thrilled to be out of the backpack before going in the school.

What an awesome way to enter your new Pre-K...through the fairy door. Standing still was not part of her plan for the morning.

Straight to the kitchen with this little girl...I suppose she will take after my Hero. She hardly took the time to tell a brokenhearted mama goodbye.

Wow! Does he look handsome or what?

I mean, not like I am biased or anything, but I do think he cleans up really well...what you can't see is some of Hero's cologne First Born needed for the first day of second grade.

Please don't go all independent on me!!!

The Posse...I can see the energy bubbling forth already!

Bless these babies as they go forth for their 0910 school year!

Hiatus

2009-08-17T09:57:00.001-04:00

I have been on hiatus. Not only a blog hiatus, but a hiatus from a plethora of activities I normally partake. The past few weeks I have chucked all sense of self-discipline and productivity out the window, likely to the point of being self-destructive; and if not self-destructive most certainly not PRODUCTIVE!

The spectrum of things I have been hiating (yeah, I just made that a word) is broad. I haven’t been:

Blogging (which means tons and tons of “stuff” beating around in my head),
House cleaning (even with a every other week housekeeper I have maintenance I should take care of)
Cooking (even though my Hero does lot’s, I haven’t done any)
Laundry (yep, Hero caught that all up this weekend too)
Eating properly (that healthy diet was chucked out the window because I love Marble Slab and Banana Pudding Milkshakes)
Exercising (none…for over two weeks)
Reading
Daily Bible reading
Daily prayer time (yeah, I have forgone the dedicated prayer time…occasional chats have occurred)
De-cluttering (it’s been more like RE-cluttering)
Sleeping properly
Fully engaging with my children as often as I should
Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera

What have I been doing? That really is a good question, because as I look back over the past few weeks I kinda come up empty handed.

I did have the joy of spending time with a dear friend who has been part of my life for twenty-one years. That is mega special…maybe more on that later.

I have eaten crappy food, and lots of it. I have surfed the internet till I am cross-eyed and glazed over. I have played with my new BlackBerry Tour. Hmm, that’s about it. I have wasted hours and hours of time.

I don’t feel good about this wasted time. I am depressed and cranky, physically challenged, and emotionally drained. I have not served my spouse, my children, my friends or myself very well. And now I have to find the self-discipline to get back on track…ugh, why is it so easy to slack on a habit and lose the desire in a day and it takes twenty one days to build that habit back up? My brain is silently screaming “WHAT HAVE I DONE?”

Father God, thank you for loving me in spite of my shortcomings, my struggles, my stubbornness.

Today I pray for self-discipline to accomplish the things You desire for me. I pray restored passion for the things I love in life. I pray for this depression to be lifted and my happy spirit to be renewed and re-established. I pray for normal sleep patterns and sound night’s rest. I pray for will power, strength, patience and wisdom. You have called me to grow and I pray I put myself in the narrow path You have set before me.

I also pray for all who may read this post that they too may find strength and restoration in You, especially during the hectic times when worldly cares so easily take over and take hold. I claim peace for their lives, hedges of protection around them and their families, and blessings to rain down from Heaven.

In Jesus sweet, sweet name.

Amen

Wordless Wednesday: Dessert in South Carolina

2009-08-05T15:27:00.000-04:00

Scrumptious!

Re-examination

2009-07-27T16:53:00.000-04:00

I have taken time to process this post (Not A Piece of Meat) written by our friend Anja and really think about it in response to my post a few weeks ago. I am sorry that my delay (as opposed to posting an immediate and likely poorly thought out reaction) has been perceived as anger, avoidance, resentment or termination of a friendship.

I know that you, Anja, took some time after my post was written prior your response. I suspect during that time you really thought about what I had to say and how you feel about it. I hope you realize I have done the same in my reaction. I have worked hard as I have matured to keep my mouth shut when I am hurt because I know my own tendency to say hurtful and mean things (which I likely don’t actually mean) when I am feeling vulnerable. I did not want to react this way.

After reading this post I have re-read my own words. I realize how they could be construed as weakness, or finding my value in life dependent on my husband’s perception of me. This was not my intent.

My attempt was to put forth a call to myself for self-improvement and redefinition or the term “Trophy Wife.” The urban dictionary definition is definitely harsh, and I feel that the term should be redefined. I think the term itself is the problem, I really do think all of us want to be valued by our spouse/partner on some level.

Trophies are good things, they cause people to work hard, set goals, strive to improve themselves. This is my intent.

Part of this for me is becoming closer to the image God has called me to be. The whole intent of my blog actually is my growth, a good part of which is in Christ, and I do want to share it, with no intent to hurt or anger anyone.

I find the Proverbs 31 wife remarkable. She does work hard, extremely hard, but I think historically that was part of the time period. Her husband trusted her, and she kept her home well stocked and plentiful. She was kind to her servants, and generous to the poor. She had money of her own, buying a field and planting a vineyard. She is smart and strong and doesn’t carry worry for her and her family’s future. It is also noted that beauty does fade, but she is praised because she fears the Lord.

My husband adores me; I have no doubt of this. I also know he trusts me implicitly, not only in our relationship, but also to fulfill the tasks we have jointly determined I shall be responsible for in our household. My desire is to do these things better, and do more things better in caring for our home, our children, our relationship, and I choose to attempt this in a Biblical fashion. I also submit to my husband in times of conflict, because it is my expectation he is leading my family in the way God would have him lead. I see this not as a weakness, but as the ability to trust another in times of dissension, which is definitely a challenge for a strong personality such as mine.

I hope my message is clearer this time. It has not, nor will it be, my intent to hurt feelings or anger anyone or offend “the entire human race.”

I suspect there are many of underlying feelings which have drawn some of the feedback I have received. The way my own words have drawn my attention to issues very far from the point of the blog have certainly hit their mark, in spite of the hurt they inflicted. For this I am truly sorry. I make every attempt to be open-minded and caring, even though my trust in the Bible may tell me otherwise. It is clear to me now the mutual respect and understanding regarding our different views (in a dear and valued friendship) was sorely lacking on my part. I caused great offense, which was never my objective, and I do wish it had been brought to my attention earlier. I value both Anja and Crystal’s friendship greatly and hope my difficulty in response has not taken our friendship beyond repair.

I respect Anja as a writer, and I appreciate her ability to make me think, as she does so often through her blog and in person. This is very much a free country and I since I was born an American I hold dear the protection of free speech, regardless of how different the perspective is from my own. I will continue to follow her unless I am removed, because I appreciate being stimulated.

Silent Sunday

2009-07-26T14:39:00.000-04:00

It’s Sunday and I’m sad. I am not typically sad on Sunday’s; in fact I usually love Sundays…but this one not so much.

It’s hot and humid outside, and I really don’t have any fondness for humidity. It make me feel sticky and I hate being sticky. I also don’t particularly like what it does to my hair either.

A strange wind is blowing too. The trees outside the window are moving strangely, slowly like a sloth, but in random eerie circles. The limbs are not moving in unison either; just random wiggles, arcs and sway’s like little demons jumping from branch to branch causing the senseless movement.

The sky was gray and full of rain this morning which I found lovely and refreshing. But now it is white and endless and dull. The sun is not breaking through nor is there any blue. Just endless white, flat cloud cover.

It is quiet in my home. A near noiseless quite, that at moments when it is broken shakes me, rattles me to the core. The sudden thundering of First Born’s feet up the hallway stirs me away from my thoughts which right now are deep and dark, questioning and seeking answer. I need the quiet, the silence, to swallow me up and keep me safe from the dark places my mind wants to take me; places I have not been for so long.

I know not why this day has come as it is. I am ok with this not knowing, but I seek Him in this sorrow-filled silence searching for answer, change…and peace.

Trophy Wife Tuesday

2009-07-21T19:38:00.000-04:00

This week as I have prayed about the assets and attributes of a Trophy Wife I have been a bit overwhelmed at times by the sheer awesomeness of Mrs. Proverbs 31. This woman rocks, I mean really rocks. I have actually found myself wondering what Mr. Proverbs 31 does. I mean really, she does it ALL; so does he sit home eating bon-bons and shop HSN all day?

All kidding aside, I do want to be more like this woman, and I know God (who loves me mightily just as I am) would not have led me here if he didn’t expect some growth. So, this week I decided to make two areas of our home a bit more inviting for my Hero.

Now since we have two small offspring who think they rule our roost it is near impossible to create a haven exclusively for my Hero. So I found two rooms where he spends time and determined to make them more inviting for him (and me too).

Before I reveal the first room I worked on I need make crystal clear how blessed I am. My Hero does laundry, regularly. When my dad first got sick my Hero took over almost all the household duties to include the mountains of laundry a family of four produces. So one of the rooms I decided to make more inviting is the laundry room. Yes, the laundry room.
Here is a before:

And the after:

Yes, it took a number of hours to get it all put away. And then I took some time to figure out how to make if more effective for the children to help with sorting. This post is actually significantly later than I had hoped today due to a stop off at our local Target store. I decided to pick up the curtains and then redo the storage bins. Tie-backs courtesy of the accessory clearance rack, woohoo! The two large bins on the floor will be used for additional ease of sorting for the children and each of us now has our own small bin to carry our folded stuff back to the bedroom to put away. I even picked up a little pink basket for all those solo socks that hang out in the dryer. I do think the result will inspire me to do more of the laundry, and hopefully be more inviting for my Hero when he does venture in.

The second space I took on this week was the bedroom. I was hoping to create a more welcoming space for both my Hero and myself to unwind and relax. Yes, the laundry sorting and putting away took hours, and the clutter control took about 30 minutes, but once it was complete I could really see just a few things I could change to encourage us to both spend more time in this room.

The table beside the settee was in our garage, the lamp was in a box in the guest room closet. I dug around and found some pleasant smelling candles as well as scented oils with pretty bamboo sticks. I dug around in the guest room where we have a pile of artwork and found the paintings for the walls too!

The only expense to create a couples haven was for the indoor plants added on each side of the bed. A quick trip with the children to a local greenhouse proved to be educational, fun and productive. The staff actually looked at pictures of the room to see the lighting to help us make the best selection. And then the kids had a great time helping re-pot the plants before we left. The gorgeous orchid was a gift thrown in by the amazing Lisa at the greenhouse as we were leaving with a lesson on how to properly care for it.

The best thing about this Trophy Transformation is the access to the settee and the small table. I have created a “prayer closet” without a door. I had yet to find a comfortable place in the house for my daily Bible reading, prayer and time-out from the children. It is awesome to sit here with my cup of coffee, my morning reading and quiet thoughts as the day begins. I am sure this location will be where I recognize many of the steps of my Trophy Wife Transformation.
This last one is just for anyone who knows me really well who might think I pushed all the treasures to the other side of the room. Haha, I really did put it all away!

Trophy Wife Tuesday

2009-07-14T14:44:00.000-04:00

Prior to my separation from the working world I often joked that my goal in life was to be a Trophy Wife. The thought of sleeping until I just wake up, and enjoying pastry and gourmet coffee for breakfast prior to a visit to the club for tennis would be wonderful. Doesn’t spending the afternoon at a philanthropic luncheon with a shimmering martini in one hand and too many diamonds on the other sounds amazingly decadent? Wrap up the day with a quiet dinner with the children before they pleasantly slip off to bed and then have a respite with the worshiping husband and fall into sweet dream filled sleep in a huge, fluffy king sized bed.

The life of the trophy wife appears, to many, to be made up of Cinderella stories and all day luxury and pampering. Although the common stereotype is a compulsive shopper with little, if any, brain in her head, the reality is that most men who acquire a trophy wife have specific educational and social skill requirements. She must be able to hold her own at fund raisers and dinner parties as well as have a little ambition of her own. The negative, bimbo typecast typically rises out of rare, often publicized May December relationships.

I have been thinking deeply about the Trophy Wife. I have determined it is actually a worthy goal to strive for, but not either of the common descriptions we have.

Merriam-Webster’s definition of trophy:

1: something gained or given in victory or conquest especially when preserved or mounted as a memorial

2 a: a memorial of an ancient Greek or Roman victory raised on the field of battle or on the nearest land for a naval victory b: a representation of such a memorial (as on a medal); also: an architectural ornament representing a group of military weapons

3: a game animal or fish suitable for mounting as a trophy —usually used attributively

4: one that is prized for qualities that enhance prestige or social status —usually used attributively ,a trophy wife, a trophy house

As for me I would prefer not to be mounted and hung on the wall, but there are some redeeming characteristics of a trophy. I would like to be determined to be a prize worth having, then fought for and gained in victory. Think about all the blood, sweat and tears hockey players endure in conquest of the Stanley Cup or football players to win the Super Bowl; how awesome would it be to be so desired by my husband that such effort would be put forth to win my hand or, better yet, gain my heart? I ache to be prized for qualities I possess, although there are days I feel I have few which are praiseworthy. To have my husband consider me an enhancement to him, that my qualities increase his significance in the world, I think is truly a lofty goal.

As I contemplate this goal I turn to the Bible to see what it has to say. God only made it to the second chapter of Genesis before deciding man shouldn’t be alone and created him a suitable helpmate. And a very few verses later God calls the man to leave his mother and father and unite as one flesh with his wife. I would hope the man would find characteristics in this wife worthy of becoming one flesh with, a prize or trophy, so to speak. Although there are many mentions of the role of a wife, as well as many poor examples, there are a few I find closely related to the issue of trophy wife.

Proverbs 12:4 a worthy wife is a crown for her husband, but a disgraceful woman is like cancer in his bones.

Proverbs 18:22 the man who finds a wife finds a treasure, and he receives favor from the Lord.

Proverbs 31:10-31 A Wife of Noble Character

¹⁰Who can find a virtuous and capable wife? She is more precious than rubies.
¹¹ Her husband can trust her, and she will greatly enrich his life.
¹² She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life.

¹³ She finds wool and flax and busily spins it.
¹⁴ She is like a merchant’s ship, bringing her food from afar.
¹⁵ She gets up before dawn to prepare breakfast for her household and plan the day’s work for her servant girls.

¹⁶ She goes to inspect a field and buys it; with her earnings she plants a vineyard.
¹⁷ She is energetic and strong, a hard worker.
¹⁸ She makes sure her dealings are profitable; her lamp burns late into the night.

¹⁹ Her hands are busy spinning thread, her fingers twisting fiber.
²⁰ She extends a helping hand to the poor and opens her arms to the needy.
²¹ She has no fear of winter for her household, for everyone has warm clothes.

²² She makes her own bedspreads. She dresses in fine linen and purple gowns.
²³ Her husband is well known at the city gates, where he sits with the other civic leaders.
²⁴ She makes belted linen garments and sashes to sell to the merchants.

²⁵ She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future.
²⁶ When she speaks, her words are wise, and she gives instructions with kindness.
²⁷ She carefully watches everything in her household and suffers nothing from laziness.

²⁸ Her children stand and bless her. Her husband praises her:
²⁹ “There are many virtuous and capable women in the world, but you surpass them all!”

³⁰ Charm is deceptive, and beauty does not last; but a woman who fears the Lord will be greatly praised.
³¹ Reward her for all she has done Let her deeds publicly declare her praise.

A worthy wife is a CROWN, a man who finds a wife finds treasure, more precious than rubies? These verses stir a desire in me to be my husband’s crown, his treasure, and more valuable to him than gemstones.

This desire, to be my Hero’s trophy, is part of my growth. I am certain women today are not given the skills to be this wife described so beautifully in the Bible, and I know I am sorely lacking in many areas. Although I know God loves me just the way I am, He also knows I need to grow into the woman He designed me to be. Each week I am going to select a specific area to study, improve and incorporate into my life.

I hope through this journey my Hero will have his Trophy Wife who, at the end of the day, is prized and treasured, and better equipped to enhance his life on this earth.

Shell Seeking

2009-06-28T22:54:00.000-04:00

Tonight, as the sun was setting in the western sky behind the rows of hotels lining the coastline, First Born and I went walking on the beach in search of shells. This was his first shell quest and I was excited about the time spent with him alone while Little Sister had a late day nap with my Hero.

As I walked the beach I experienced fleeting memories of my own childhood trips to the east coast with my family. My earliest memory of the beach dates so far back in my brother is in diapers and I am afraid of the water as it pulls me towards deeper, dark water. Later, my fondness for the beach grew, especially the year we lived in North Carolina and made frequent trips to the coast.

I carry the large, purple bucket as I walk in the dense sand of a low tide with the gentle, warm waves lapping at my ankles. First Born scurries around after each piece of solid matter he spies as the waves roll back. I peer in the bucket to see what treasures he has found, pieces of childhood memory, priceless morsels from the ocean. The beauty he sees in a piece of broken, cracked, wave worn shell escapes me, and yet I allow the collection to build, adding weight to the bucket.

First Born’s eyes dart to and fro spying his treasures sitting on the top of the sand, uncovered by the receding waters. I realize he is only scratching the surface, finding only what the waves push across his path. I call him to my side, knowing he needs to know the treasure he can find if he digs deeper, getting below the surface.

I plow my toes into the sand, feeling the precious nuggets below. Lifting the sand, making a hole as I pull my foot free, a small wave sweeps across the spot drawing the sand away from the small shells which had been lodged below the surface of the sand. First Born scrambles to grasp each bit then looks up at me, his bright face questioning, “How did you know that mom?” Alas, I have no magic answer to give him, no secret bite of wisdom known by few and handed down the generations; I too was once a child on a quest for the perfect shell and learned through trial and error that the digging always brought the best to the surface.

As First Born dashes off to his own dig spots, seeking his own buried cache, I ponder our moment. Sweet child, how do I tell you all the most precious pieces are hidden under cover? We must never just take anything, anyone at face value, only seeing what the waves roll across our path. There is always something special, important, of value found below the surface. It may take more time to find, and sometimes we get dirty in the process, but the reward is worth taking the course to get there.

The bucket is filling more slowly now, First Born is taking more time and really looking at his pieces. And he is digging deeper, searching and finding absolute exquisiteness buried below the surface.

Bittersweet

2009-06-21T21:33:00.000-04:00

Father’s Day and June 21, 2009 brings me great sorrow and great joy. It is a milestone on two fronts for me; on one hand joyful and exciting, on the other sorrowful and grief filled.

On the eve of Father’s Day 2008 we held my father’s memorial service in Houston ten days after his death. It was a great time of celebration of his life, fond remembrances, honor, and love. The service itself had actually been written by Dad some unknown date (likely after his diagnosis but not near the end), found later on a cocktail napkin in a file titled “final plans.” My brother and I were both awed and amazed by the gift he left us…the songs were selected, the readings and poems; we had no question as to what he wanted for his memorial, his last hurrah. The only challenge he left us was who to appoint for the task of putting his last “project” into action. The positions were filled by those close, special, beloved, and Dad’s service went off without a hitch. And then we partied, also in “Bob Gregory” style, an open bar, decadent hors d’oeuvres passed through the crowd by tuxedoed staff, live piano and songs sung by any who wanted to sing, guests dressed to the nines all elegant despite their heartache.

Father’s Day 2008 came and went for me as a colorless silence, finding time to physically recover from rejoicing his life. I was tired, exhausted more like, left lifeless, empty, and alone. Although my Hero was by my side and both my little birds danced nearby, I found little that day but the energy to take each next breath, not recognizing it was Father’s Day…for me, it was just the eleventh day of my life without my father.

Today, I find, the pain has been excruciating, gut wrenching, taking my breath away. The hole he left in me ripped open anew, a great chasm of emptiness. At moments I have not known which way to turn, my heart screaming, “He is gone! My father on this day is gone. How can I smile? How can anyone smile when I am so…” So what? What is this place I find myself, wanting all to know how I feel and no one to be happy around…alone? My heavenly Father touches the jagged edges of the gash, easing the throbbing emptiness, pouring the Holy Spirit into the crevasse, filling me with His love. It is enough, more than enough. And I take a breath, and a step, and I force my face into a smile, for I know no pain will ever be so great His love cannot overcome.

This day also brings great excitement as my Bird steps forth a bit less my baby and a bit more a boy. He eagerly awoke this morning (pre 7 am) and danced into our room ready to go to camp. This is his first camp, a rite of passage for many boys and girls, and he is going with our church. Each year they trek to the hills of Tennessee with the children to take them on a walk with God. His excitement was contagious, bubbling forth and taking over the morning… “Is it time to go yet?” Alas, my child you must have your breakfast first.

My Bird has grown such strong wings in his seven short years, time which has flown for me. He is ready, more than I would have him be, to leap from the nest and test his wings. Today I sent him off into an unknown (literally I do not know where this camp is located) praying the Lord keep His hand over this flight, and under if the little wings begin to quiver. My little Bird grows so fast, questing for knowledge and adventure, truth and light, excitement and challenge. I trust I have given this Bird the wings to fly this flight, and return to the nest stronger, wiser, and flying better than I know he can, for only He knows how this Bird can truly fly.

I know my father would be proud of my son today (and I like to think he also has his hands on Bird’s solo flight).This circle of life, revolving around me, this day bringing me such great strength and such deep sorrow, with His hand leading me on.

Ephesians 4:1-Worthy Calling

2009-06-18T15:11:00.000-04:00

After I wanted to be a blogger, but before I began this one, God met me at a women’s weekend event. It was at this meeting I was given confirmation of some changes He wanted me to make in my life. He also whispered to me the name of this blog.
I had looked forward to the Esther Experience for months and had even wanted to go the previous year, but the location had been prohibitive. The only two things I was sure of: the theme “Called to Be Free,” and that He wanted me to be at this event. So I went with no expectations and an open mind and heart.
Although the event was only two days at the end of April, God gave me so much of Himself that weekend. The personal growth, revelation, release, insight, and answer I received were both overwhelming and freeing at the same time. I found my life touched through verse, prayer, meals with my sisters in Christ, praise and worship, and quiet moments. It was during one of these quiet moments God told me “Ephesians 4, no more, no less. This is what I have for you.”
I have spent much time in this chapter in the time since, thirsting for all he has to give me. And I am certain I have grown and heard more of what He wants me to hear. But I also know He is calling me for more regarding this chapter.
Ephesians 4:1 As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received.
As He has called me with this chapter for my own growth, He has also called me, as Paul urged the church in Ephesus, to share it. I hope my life, such as it is, is found worthy of the calling I have received…to grow, share, learn, teach, counsel, love.
I pray the Lord find my words pleasing, valuable, worthy of the calling He has given me for now. I also pray you listen to hear His sweet voice when He calls you too.

Once In a Lifetime

2009-06-15T15:37:00.001-04:00

Living in Knoxville we had the opportunity of a lifetime last week. The primary East-West interstate running through town has been closed for over a year while MAJOR revamping occurred. Although having I-40 closed has been a moderate inconvenience for us, it has been an interesting project to watch evolve. Last week the project was complete.

As part of the celebration prior to the opening of the new interstate on Friday afternoon the highway department teamed up with the Knoxville Track Club (www.ktc.org), as well as a number of local businesses, to host the Fast40Dash, a 1.21 mile race on the new interstate prior to cars being allowed to drive on it. Having a small runner in the house this was not an event we could miss.

The organizers were surprised with the turnout of over 1600 people. Although we arrived too late to get C registered for the actual run we were issued numbers to be included in the Walker Wave. No one was allowed on the interstate without a number. Spectators were required to watch from the Hall Of Fame Bridge running over I-40.

The energy was amazing. Having waited so long and watched the demolition and reconstruction of a portion one of the major transcontinental highways created an excitement I have never experienced before. Each time an announcement was made the crowd perked up waiting for instruction. When the National Anthem was sung the electricity was prominent.

The races were run in six waves: wheelchair, males 39 and under, females 39 and under, males forty and over, females forty and over, and then the Walkers. Although the wait was long for our turn, it was incredibly cool to watch standouts in each wave, both for speed and determination. One of the 39 and under female runners actually moved me to tears upon her finish; despite being extremely overweight and relatively out of shape she ran the race start to finish in a bit over fifteen minutes. She exhibited a courage I did not have seeing as I wouldn’t have even considered running this race.

Once we got our turn we started out together. It didn’t take long for C to decide he was going to run whether we were in the walker group or not. I volunteered to run with him, but couldn’t keep up for long. I smiled, slowed to a walk and told him to get to the timing tent and wait for us. Although I turn him loose at times like this with some trepidation, I remind myself of my calling to give him strong wings to fly on his own…this will be just one of many time I must let him go it alone.

E was less enthusiastic to be participating in this momentous event. Although she wanted to be there she assured us she did not need to run, or walk for that matter, as she would ride in the“strowller.” Lucky for her Barry is wrapped around her finger and ensured she completed the course in true princess style.

It was awesome to partake in such a momentous event knowing it is unlikely I will ever have such an opportunity again. And how many people actually get to take a picture of their children doing what they were told after saying, “Kids, go sit on the freeway.”

The Right Equiptment

2009-06-10T07:28:00.000-04:00

As I have taken on this new role as a stay at home mom I knew there were things I would need to change, or adapt even. When I was a working mom there were certain things required each day in my life as a work-out-of-home mom (I say work-out-of-home because I have always understood mother’s who stay home work as hard, if not harder, than the rest of us). I needed my Blackberry, purse, makeup, proper office attire, usually a packed lunch, appropriate shoes; you know…the standard office, behind the desk kind of girl stuff.

So now in this new role I find different things are needed. My first real “outing” with the children was to story time at the local library. We have literally thousands of books in our house. There are books which belonged to my mother as a child, my books from childhood, all of my father’s book collection (including his everything from his BA, MA, and PhD), as well as the fiction and non-fiction which arrived after dad died too. I thought the library would be a good adventure for the kids and an opportunity to avoid permanently increasing the numerous hardbacks in our house. And maybe this would be an opportunity for me to meet another SAHM. I know very few, and the ones I do know are from church and not close by geographically.

Upon our arrival, Ms. Jules (the librarian) sweetly guided us into the meeting room for story time; the topic for the day was the sea and things which live in it. I entered the room to find five other mothers (two pregnant) and fourteen children. Ms. Jules gave the children instruction on where to sit and they both angelically complied, leaving me standing by a table wondering whose children had come with me to the library and what was I to do now?

I chose a seat at the table, which I later learned was the craft and coloring table, and not really where a proper mother is to sit. A proper SAHM quickly plops herself on the floor with a strangle hold on their rambunctious two year old who is not quite ready to be engaged in a formal story time setting…Oopse, I blew that one right off the bat.

As I sat, watching Ms. Jules and the children, I began to observe these other mothers. Two more came in after me, much to my relief, as I was sure I would be the only “not on time” mom. So in this nice room of moderately well behaved three to nine year olds (and a few less than three hellions bundles of energy), I begin to have an awareness of these other women. It is in this moment I find I AM NOT properly equipped to be a SAHM.

My first clue that there I was somehow deficient was the moment I realized, other than Ms. Jules, I was the only adult in the room not adorned with a ponytail. Every other mother in the room, some short, some long a few in between…but every one of them had a ponytail. Now don’t get me wrong, I like ponytails, and have had enough length to my tresses many times in my life to don one, but right now my locks are short, very short actually for me. I felt somehow naked, vulnerable, almost out of place at that moment. I did not have the right equipment to participate in this sport.

The other glaring irregularity I found between myself and all of these other mothers was my full faced war paint. After years of not leaving the house without it (ok, I sometimes occasionally once in a blue moon leave the house without it) it has become part of my routine, so ingrained in my being I feel “off” if I forget. I sat in awe of these women in their ponytails and perfect comfort WITHOUT war paint. I observed a few with mascara, some pretty pink gloss, a touch of color on the cheek, but none were fully ensconced in product the way I tend to be. They were pretty, natural, comfortable in their glowing magnificence. Their absolute unconcern for a “face” was refreshing, and yet an oddly obscure notion to add to my world.

I felt awkward, remote, and unengaged with this new sorority I am pledging. It was a moment when I was both puzzled and enlightened at the same time. I find myself intrigued by the equipment needed, or not, for this new role I am taking on and realize I have much to learn, and much I can change...if I want to.

One year

2009-06-04T13:59:00.000-04:00

One year

A blink of an eye

And yet, an eternity…

Looking back, sadness, sorrow, loss

Memories, warm and soft, tender, painful

Upheaval is so great, the empty chasm so wide

And yet, moments of joy dash in and out, over and under

A smile graces my face and a tear rolls down my cheek

At times the mourning is distant, like dancing clouds on the tops of the mountains

Then again the grief frequently so close it takes my breath away

And then the kind rush of a child’s voice, a husband’s touch, the nuzzle of a sweet canine

I am reminded that I must go on, in spite of the gaping hole I feel inside

Each moment, knowing I was loved

And knowing I loved you.

New Direction

2009-05-15T15:56:00.000-04:00

Today, I changed direction. My life now with a new, different path to follow; bumps, curves, smooth even spots like I have not experienced before.

I will be here for each skinned knee, bumped noggin, and stubbed toe. Cereal bowls in the sink, and squeals of laughter, tears of sibling rivalry, begging for the pool, trampoline, outside—sun, air, nature, life, and knowledge. I will be here for the important moments of their lives…I will be the caretaker, question answerer, teacher, and mother.

I join forces unfamiliar, respected, esteemed…I know the work is never done; I am amazed how the tasks get completed, and then time to cover the important questions too, “Why do frogs like being wet?” “Where does the fire come from on the stove?” “Can you have babies before you are married?” “Who decided what the planets names would be?” and “Why doesn’t every one love Jesus?”

These women I join today, I admire, for they must always be prepared for the known and the unexpected. I strive to imitate, pattern, learn as I go. I am blessed there are so many who have gone before me and share their knowledge, skill, successes, failures. They share, and like me, learn from others as they take on this grand adventure, stay at home mom.

The beauty found in a moment with a small child. Today my path takes me there.

Birthday

2009-04-30T22:33:00.000-04:00

Today is my birthday. I enjoy my birthday and always have. This one was nice enough as birthdays go. I received especially warm hugs form the children first thing with their sweetly voiced warm wishes. There are few better ways to start a day than this.

This birthday (37 for those who want to know) however brings a new milestone for me. This is the first year I have been without a father on my birthday. I know the inevitable first year after the death of a loved one is supposed to be the worst. My brain processes this and recognizes the data, but the painful reality still cuts deep into my heart.

My father always went the extra mile on a birthday to make it special when he could. I had parties of some sort every year. I remember turning five in Alexandria, VA having cake in the backyard and opening a kimono from Japan. For fourteen, homemade pizza party and a scavenger hunt, I am not sure which team won that one. When I turned sixteen he planned a party at the house and had the games and timing planned down to the minute. There were a number of years in a row that he was running a training program for Whirlpool in Michigan, away from home and unable to celebrate with me. He still made sure I knew how much he loved me on those days.

Last year on this date I began my day with my father in Houston. I had flown down the week prior for a meeting with the oncologist and we anticipated a bad report. We were correct in our anticipation and the meeting was dark and unpleasant. I knew then our time was short. We made the best of the few days I was there and Dad even wanted to take in the Pompeii exhibit at the Houston Museum of Art. He loved museums of any sort and what a treat for me, the day before I turned thirty-six, to spend the morning with him delving deep into history.

As the dawn of April 30, 2008 came my heart was heavy knowing I was leaving Houston that day, returning to my husband and children but leaving my father. I was a woman torn that day between my two worlds, wanting, needing to be both places, and yet unable to wholly be in either. We found a peace that beautiful morning, a few moments of quiet, of serenity, of calm, doing our best to ignore the future we knew was barreling down upon us. The sun streamed in the kitchen window as we chatted and ate our soft boiled eggs, and we just enjoyed the moment, knowing…

On a lighter note for those who need one, my amazing husband surprised me with Eggs Benedict (diet style of course) for breakfast before leaving for work this morning. This is probably my all time favorite breakfast and I was thrilled that he not only remembered, but took the time on a week day to honor me on my birthday.

In spite of running extremely late I had a smile on my face when I arrived at my office. My dearest friend and colleague (yes, I am so blessed to work with my bestest friend ever) had dropped a lovely pink gift bag on my desk AND a cake (yep, full size and loaded with that super sugary icing) in my chair. There are so many things I find bring me great pleasure and a gob of icing happens to be one of them. I also LOVE the Kay Arthur book and the scripture tea.

I have continued to receive birthday wishes throughout the day. The bulk have come electronically, via email, Face Book or text message. I have another homemade cake to eat and celebrate with other friends tomorrow evening, and I do feel truly loved and appreciated today.

Thank you friends for lifting me today…and all the days you know I need lifting.

Dad, I miss you.

Today, I blog.

2009-04-29T16:44:00.000-04:00

I want to be a blogger, I really do. I have authored numerous blog entries, on a gamut of topics from childrearing to missing my dead father to the random weather we have experienced this spring; of course these amazing tidbits of my world have not made it from my brain to the paper (or electronic post as the case may be) but they have been written and edited and discussed ad nauseum with a few close friends. Of course there is a very extensive list of things I want to be and “blogger” happens to be the one I am tackling today.

I think a certain amount of dedication is required to be a blogger, at least to do it well and really wear the title. There are many things I find it easy to really dedicate myself to like God, my son and daughter, my husband, and tasty food. But daily writing is something I have never developed a fondness for. The pretty little diary with the golden lock and the teeny tiny key…yeah I had one…and another…and another. The pages were filled for a day or two and then the beauty of the diary lost its luster and found itself filed away forgotten in a desk drawer. And the “journals” of a college student…seriously, who had time to write in college?

So today, I am momentarily amused with myself and my desire to blog. Why on earth would I want to take on a hobby (lifestyle, habit, addiction, etc.) which is so far outside the realm of my consistent lifelong behaviors? I do not know exactly. But I hope, through the process of regularly taking the thoughts from my head and pouring them out in some recognizably assembled layout, I will slow some of the spinning in my head. Or maybe I will tire of the whole process in three or four days and file this, forgotten, away in my desk drawer.