New Year's Prayer

May 2012 find you walking more intimately with Jesus.  May it be a year of surrender, trust, belief and faith.  That will assure the most blessed days you will ever walk this side of heaven.

Today’s Facebook posting just seemed to pop out of nowhere.  When I really read what I wrote, I was shocked by the simple truth of the statement. 

Yesterday, having been a very difficult day, was the opposite of that goal.  I wasn’t surrendered to the will of Jesus.  I had no trust, believed that there was no hope, and my faith was hanging by a thread.  All very bad choices on my part!

But, God is so faithful, even when I am not!  In the midst of my anguish, I had prayer, and lots of it.  He heard every sobbing cry of desperation and rode in to save the day.  In less than 24 hours, there was healing and restoration in a way I could never have imagined!

This is but one of many examples of my forgetfulness of the bigness of God.  Why can’t I remember that He always takes care of me and eliminate the hours/days/weeks of worry?  He has always proven Himself faithful.  His ways (though not always my ways) have brought change and hope to situations that seemed impossible.

So in the stillness of this New Year’s Eve morning, I reflect on the outgoing of 2011 and the start of something new.  2012 may well have difficulties--but, if I could only get my mind grounded on the Truth of God’s promises, then I wouldn’t be shaken by any of it.  If my focus is on the face of Jesus, I won’t stress about the world around me.

So my payer for you, and for me, as we cross this calendar page is this:

May the God of hope fill you will all joy and peace in believing that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Romans 15:13) Lord, may you keep our minds steady upon you.  May our gaze be always into your eyes, believing, trusting and surrendered to the reality of your faithfulness.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen

The Sound of Silence

It's Sunday morning, and for a few minutes more, I'm alone with nothing but the sound of the refrigerator whirring in the background.  I've plugged in the Christmas tree and the simple stillness of the morning has reminded me just how long its been since I've sat down to write anything at all.

November was a month of transition for me.  At work, I have a new Program Director and it's required many extra hours of teaching and computer tweaking to get our new team up to speed.  Change is always challenging, but I trust that the Lord is working through it all.  Now that we are beginning to settle into a new routine, things are going much more smoothly, which in turn allows work to feel more fun.

On the home front, it's the Christmas season, and every mom knows all the extras that it entails.  I need to take the time to sit and write our Christmas letter, but in thinking of what to include on one sheet of paper that encompasses the last 365 days of four individuals seems a little daunting.

On one hand, we haven't had any remarkable changes.  We are in the same home, with the same jobs and have had no major illnesses (all of which I thank God for!).  But, on the other hand, we've had lots of little things that have at times rocked me, confused me, scared me or tested my faith. 

So for today, and for the content of our Christmas letter, I think I'll focus on the simplicity of the glittery ornaments that have caught my eye.  There are three that stand out, and they simply read: Joy, Jesus, Peace.

Hope for the Hopeless

Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep. Romans 12:15 This verse, in the context of the chapter where it's found, is full of wisdom designed to call Christians to be a people set apart--living differently from the rest of the world.  We are to be a people of compassion and conviction, blessing even those who curse us.  But, this verse has often confused me when it comes to dealing with a loved one who suffers from depression.  How are we called to react to an individual whose season of weeping is deep and prolonged?  When the sadness doesn't ease, and joy seems out of reach, I don't believe it is our duty to join them in the pool of despair.   I have had times of pain, anger and frustration.  But, in all honesty, I have never really had to "suffer".  I haven't buried a child or parent.  We haven't had cancer or other potentially terminal diagnosis hit our home.  I know the Lord has spared me from troubles beyond what I can bare.  However, I'm not ignorant in thinking that we are somehow immune from the potential of great pain.   Does the absence of a horrifically tragic experience in my own life cause me to lack sympathy for those walking through the fire?  I don't think so.  My heart breaks with those whose hurt is so deep that it brings them to their knees.  But if I'm not careful, I can be swept up in the torrent of grief and forget the ultimate truth (and promise) of hope. I often get desperate for the Lord to fix the hearts, minds and spirits of those that are stuck in this cycle of depression.  This blog is in no way intending to address the issue of clinical depression, medication, or medical intervention.  Rather, it's more of a contemplation of what my role is to be as I stand by and watch those I love fight (or give up) in the midst of it. While I was working on this blog, my daughter came in to share with me the fact that Pluto's year is equivalent of 248 Earth years. That makes for some very long seasons on the Dwarf Planet!  But, it struck me as an appropriate picture for this very issue.  Our seasons in life are all unique.  Some cycle through them quickly while other have years before something else crosses the horizon.  Unfortunately, that is how if often goes for those in depression.  It is a long, hard road to travel and can takes years for any relief to come into view. So, rather then immerse myself into their grief, I have to stand firm on the Word of the Lord and remind them, and myself of the hope we have.  If you are in the company of someone who is in a long season of grief, don't give in and don't give up.  Drench yourself in the truth and remember that we are called to be a peculiar people.  You and I Do have a hope to offer and a role to play. Romans 12:10-12  (NASB) 10 Be devoted to one another in brotherly love; give preference to one another in honor; 11 not lagging behind in diligence, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord; 12 rejoicing in hope, persevering in tribulation, devoted to prayer 

Being a Superhero

I'm sure I've shared before my appreciation of Superhero folklore.  I love the idea of someone who is bigger than life, standing up for the weak or mistreated.  I have watched "The Incredibles" many times with my children, and had a daydream or two about what it would be like to be a "Super Family".

But, I have to catch myself from thinking too much about the fanciful.  After all, we do live in the natural, and I need to be content with the fact that I don't have, and won't inherit any powers that will turn me into Supermom (or Superwife).  If I'm bitten by a spider, I will swell and itch.  If I eat lots of spinach, I'll be doing good on my daily intake of iron.  And I suppose I have enough radioactivity in my life hosting a radio show 5 days a week.

So, that leaves me with needing to do the best I can, with what I have.  So, what do I have and how can I use it to make a difference in someone's life?

Health: I can help you move your furniture, babysit your kids, or paint your living room.

Curiosity/Selective Boldness:  When you need a new couch and only have $300, but the one you really want is $500, what can be done?  Well, I'm going to find out and ask for it!

A Minivan:  I know this isn't often considered in the list of cool superhero products, but if you need me to pick you up, no problem!  And yes, I can fit an 8 foot section of PVC inside!

Coolheadedness:  If you, your child, or my child fall and split their head open, I won't go running around like a chicken with it's head cut off.  I will be swift to act and get the help you need.

A Well Stocked Pantry:  When a tech comes over to fix the heater, and shares that he's fallen on some hard times--he's going to leave with plenty of food.

A Computer: Yes, I can organize your field trip, look up directions to the nearest Pro shop, and inform you about a surprise birthday party.

I realize that I'm just a small ripple in a big pond.  But, I've been encouraged today, that even the smallest kind/loving action can have far reaching effects.  While I'm no Mrs. Incredible (and thank goodness--because I don't want to spend my nights in tight Lycra) I have the power to influence my small circle.  And they, in turn, can go out and touch the world.

So tonight, throw some extra spinach in the salad and when you go to kill that spider in your bathroom, say a little pray of gratitude for all your super attributes.

.

Twenty Minute Letter

It's been several weeks since I've had the time to sit and write.  My part-time job has swelled to full time this last few weeks.  So, as I put the timer on for the girls to do their 20 minutes of reading, I have just that long to type out a few thoughts.
And, as luck would have it, I've drawn a blank.  I could share about the changes at work, the ongoing cycle of confusion with trying to get my eldest daughter tested for a learning disability, or other challenges we've been facing.  But, at the end of the day, it's just parts of life that others may or may not want to hear about.
So, now with 9 minutes to go, I will bang out a letter of gratitude for your willingness to indulge me by reading these simple words.

Dear Reader,

Thanks for caring enough to hear me out.  It brings a smile to my face to think that someone may find encouragement in my stories. 

I will be the first to admit that I am simple.  My thought are usually not profound, but I hope that they (in some small way) reflect the awesome God that I serve. 

It's easy for me to get overwhelmed and frustrated, and I sometimes need to be reminded about the privileges and blessings that surround me.

When my life has come to an end, I hope that my legacy will be one of love, trust and friendship.  I pray that those who have been touched by my life will carry these traits to their own circle of influence.

So until we meet again--whether on-line, by phone, over the radio, or in person, may the Lord bless you and keep you and cause His face to shine upon you and give you peace.

In Him,
Birga

The Little Things I'm Thankful For

In reading through my friend's blogs/updates, I often feel a bit ashamed that I ever waste my breath on complaints.  They are dealing with cancer and seizures.  They are sometimes in parts of this world that are being ravaged by war.  They have lost jobs, loved ones and hope.  It's a reminder that I need some perspective.  Any problems that happen in this family seem piddly in comparison. 

I thought today that I'd take a few moment to reflect on the positives that often go overlooked.  Not to understate my gratitude for the big things, like marriage, children, health and home--but this small blip in cyberspace is dedicated to the little things that make like enjoyable.

I'm thankful for:
Couches.  Can you image not having a soft area to collapse into?
Toothbrushes. Self explanatory
Sunshine.  I often don't think about it until it's gone, but I couldn't hack it in Seattle.
Feta cheese.  It stinks and has a bite, but boy does it taste good.
Costco.  Sample days are pure genius.
Superheros.  I never want to forget how to dream bigger than myself.
Backpacks.  Sometimes I just don't want to carry a purse.
Music.  Pick an emotion, and I'll find you a song to cater to it.
Indoor plumbing.  1750 probably looked and smelled much different.
Lego people.  They just make me smile.
Fences.  I like my neighbors, but boundaries are a good thing.
Microwaves.  Cook, reheat, defrost, timers--what doesn't it do?
Magnets.  You'd be amazed at just how many of your daily items use them.
Spellcheck.  It saves me from sounding (reading) like an idiot.
Chai tea.  So soothing.
Windows.  Literal or metaphorical--take your pick.
Cars.  Another item that we don't think about until it's out of gas or broken.  Can you imagine life without it?

Feel free to add to the list.  It does your heart good when you take the time to look around and evaluate all that you take for granted and just how many blessings you really can count.

The Pain of Change

I posted this a few days back on my work blog, but thought I'd share it here as well.

Stagnation is defined by dictionary.com as:

  /stægˈneɪʃən/

1. the state or condition of stagnating, or having stopped, as by ceasing to run or flow

2. a foulness or staleness, as one emanating from a standing pool of water.

3. a failure to develop, progress, or advance

4. the state or quality of being or feeling sluggish and dull

I definitely don't want a stagnant life. But, as I see it, stagnation is only avoided by change--allowing yourself to "go with the flow". And therein lies the problem. Change can be painful.

Typically, as we grow older, we become more set in our ways. In the last 10 years of my life, there has been a remarkable shift from my desperation for change, to a current fear of being shaken. As a young stay-at-home mom, I remember a feeling of hopelessness that things would never change. I couldn't see beyond the sleepless nights, diapers, and feedings. Desperate for any sign of change, I would re-arrange furniture just to have the appearance of something different.

Now, a decade later, change doesn't much appeal to me. Moving to a new home or job seems like an overwhelming prospect. As my children grow, it's a delight to watch them mature, but it is becoming increasingly difficult to help them work through their problems (academically or socially) that are increasingly complex.

Yesterday, I got one of those painful reminders about just how inflexible I have become. Within a matter of a few hours, I was called "uptight" and "an old fuddy duddy". Keep in mind that I haven't even hit 35 yet! I think there is little question that I have become stagnant.

So today, though my mind races and that fear of the uncertain knocks at the door, I'm going to try to open the flood gates. It's time to purge my foulness and staleness. I want to develop in my personal and work life. I want to see a forward progression and advancement beyond where I stand now.

Having woken at 3:45 this morning, I'm feeling both sluggish and dull, however I opt not to stay there. While I'm a long way off from a Gumby-like flexibility, I can start with some small steps today. I will choose to look to the future, and trust that the Lord has a good plan for me. I may not have the vision to understand why or how the speed bumps and detours can be used for my benefit, but I know that they can be. Our God is a good and faithful God. We just have to trust that His eternal perspective is infinitely more complex then our finite understanding of the here and now.

John 7:38 Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.

There's red, and then there's RED!

I've been missing my grandfather lately.  He was a rough and tough man, but there were the little quirky things he said and did to let me know that I was loved, even if he couldn't/wouldn't say so.  This photo is now several years old, but I wanted to post it, because it is the best illustration I have of the thought I am pondering today.

In this photo is myself (in the blue), my cousin (in the brown) and my sister (the only woman left).  We're in the shade, so our hair color isn't true to life.  But my cousin Lauren has RED hair.  The kind of red that makes you pause and watch her when she walks by.  It's stunning.  I have a much lighter shade of red (my dad says strawberry blond).

Opa (what we called my grandfather) would often call Lauren "Red".  Every once in a while, he'd use the nickname for me also, but never when the two of us were together.  If anyone gets to claim that title, it's Lauren!

Anyway, over the last few months, my husband has been very cute, in letting me see what would happen if he were to grow his hair a little longer.  It's a little messy, but I love it.  He's endured a bit of ribbing from the guys at work, but keeps it that way because I think he looks so darn good.

During a hair discussion one afternoon, he asked me what I would think about going "Lauren red".  First off, I have to make clear that I have never dyed my hair--not even highlights.  So, the prospect of changing my hair color makes me nervous. 

While I absolutely love Lauren's hair (and have often been jealous of it), the thought of trying my hand at being a RED head gives me pause.  Do I try it because Bob wants to see what it looks like?  I guess in the back of my mind, my biggest fear is that I will come out of the experience with hair resembling the color of Twizzlers.  While I'm a candy fiend, and don't want to look like it!

My heart is always to please my husband, so I may just need to put my nerves aside and go for it.  But, if over the next few weeks you see me and the hair color didn't come out quite right, remember that I did it for love, and not for vanity.

You vs. Me

Do you ever come across an article or story that is so refreshingly honest that you want to stand up and cheer?  Last week, an article was submitted to me, written by Gena Suarez, publisher of "The Old Schoolhouse Magazine" http://thehomeschoolmagazine.com/.  In her willingness to expose herself to readers, she shared that she often times doesn't have it very together.  The house may be a mess, and she reported that there are many a day, that she is as well.

I was so refreshed by her candor, that I asked to do an interview with her (which took place this morning).  We discussed just how terrible the cycle of comparison can be for women.  I may feel guilty because I don't home school my kids like that mom, and she in turn may feel pressured because she doesn't do some of the things I do.  It's the ultimate example of trying to "keep up with the Joneses" though the eye of envy may not focus on the "stuff" but on the task list of the mom in question.

It seems that women set themselves upon the scales, daily weighing their effectiveness or accomplishments, based on where they rank compared to "her".  While the men may tease each other on anything from sexual prowess to athleticism and salary, we ladies look each other up and down and compare (or rate) ourselves on comparative haircuts, right down to the shoes.

So, in honor of Gena, and the spirit of setting free the woman's bondage of comparison, I will expose some (not all) of my dirty little secrets!

*My children do not bathe daily.  In fact, it probably only happens twice a week.
*I hate changing clothes so much, that I will often avoid exercising because I don't want the hassle of dressing and redressing.  I have been known to nap in shoes.
*I only cook 2 meals a week.  My husband and I routinely play the game: Find what's oldest in the fridge, and eat it before it spoils.
*I crave validation and/or feedback.  I get sad if people don't comment on my Facebook posts.
*I hire a dear friend (who needs the work) to clean my house two times a month. 
*I have a list of projects waiting to be done from when we moved in.  It's been 7 years.
*Towels and sheets don't get washed very often.
*I can't iron.  My husband does it for me.
*I will choose sleep over any other pass time, if given the option.
*I am such a bad speller, I question if I could pass a 5th grade spelling test.
*I don't stay trim because I have a stellar diet and routine exercise pattern, it's just luck and genetics.
*I'm cheep, real cheep.
*I may have learned to contain my angry outbursts at my children, but several times a week, I can't stand being with them because of their behavior.

So, lest anyone think that I have it all together, this is just a small sampling of the reality of me.  I can't promise that I won't be jealous when I see you at Target, and you and your children look beautiful and rested.  But, I'll do my best to remember that you have your struggles too.

Ladies, let's cut ourselves and each other a little slack.  Let's be honest and compassionate.  And let us refuse to judge each other (or ourselves) on the scale of you vs. me.

The grass is always greener on the Amish side

A few weeks back, I interviewed Suzanne Woods Fisher, the author of "Amish Values for Your Family". I was fascinated by her simple approach of putting together stories from this often misunderstood people group, to bring wisdom into our tech-savvy, confused lives.

Getting books mailed to me at the rate of 5 per week, I have stacks that I would love to get through--but sadly, time does not allow. This book however, has accompanied me to the doctor's office, school drive-through and the bathtub.

Often feeling overwhelmed with my little life, I enjoy reading the stories of Amish families and their simple approach to, well, everything. From farming to discipline, the Amish are calm, collected and purposeful in all they do. There truly are many lessons that can be learned from them.

I've now begun to ponder the idea of an Amish vacation. I don't know if they would like to have our family in their midst, but I would love a first hand look at the way their world works. I want to cook wholesome food with their women. I want to watch their children do chores without complaining. I want to see the men come together to complete a building project. But most of all, I want to see what contentment looks like, without all the "stuff".

We (as a church group) have often discussed taking a mission trip to Mexico or an impoverished U.S. community, so that we can really see the comparison of our "extravagant" lifestyle, with the desperate condition of the rest of the world. We want to teach our kids sacrifice and service. But I have to admit that I also want my children to see just how much they take for granted.

Lately I've begun to think that a trip to Amish country might accomplish many of these same goals. They would see what it means to work hard. They would learn what it means to be part of a community. They would see faith in action and what mutual respect looks like.

I'm sure Amish life has its pitfalls (aside from the obvious). But, statistically speaking, they are doing something very right. According the Fisher, the Amish have a virtually 0% divorce rate and the retention rate of Amish teens (those that choose the Amish life and church) is between 85 and 90 percent.

So, if you catch wind of an Amish exchange program, please let me know. While I doubt they'd want to visit our house, I sure would like to spend some time in theirs! It might hurt at first to unplug, but I have a feeling that the payoff will be worth the sacrifice.

What is normal?

From the day babies are born, it is very common to hear mothers ask one another about developmental milestones.  Does she feed every three hours?  Is he sleeping through the night yet?  Has she rolled over?

The comparisons continue into each stage of childhood where we worry if our babies don't have enough babble vocabulary, or if the first steps have come too late.  By the time the children reach kindergarten, the questions shift in tone as parents like to boast through examination.  Is John able to count to 20?  My Karen is reading three letter words.  How about your daughter?

But what happens if your child isn't a little Einstein?  What if they hate to read and fail their spelling tests no matter how many times you drill the words?  My oldest daughter is one who has really struggled through the last few years of school.  We have worked with her for hours a day, hired a private tutor, and now we are left with the possibility that there may be some learning disabilities.

My girl is so precious to my heart.  She is observant and calculated.  She is fearless and bold.  She loves to please others.  But when it comes time to learn the curriculum, she is frustrated and feels stupid.  This breaks my heart.

My husband and I have made the decision to go forward with substantial testing to determine if there may be problems with dyslexia or another learning disability.  But, what if nothing is found?  What if I don't have the "A" student who will be class valedictorian?  If she does the best she can do, and barely makes it through, I will still be proud.

She may be judged by the world, but she will be adored by me.  I have had the privilege of watching her grow from a strong-willed toddler into a tender hearted little lady.  And while there will be years of work ahead, I pray that my attitude toward her will be one of total acceptance.  My highest calling is to show her what love is, and to teach her just who she is in this world.

Tuesday: Trash Day

Getting back to work after a long holiday weekend proved to be extra challenging today.  I wasn't feeling quite right.  It may have been the negative anticipation of my annual exam (ladies--you know what I mean), or the fact that a little bug is working its way through my system.  It also may be due to my motherly concern with a weepy 10 year old who is struggling in an area that I'm powerless to help in.

But, whatever the cause for my off day, there was a slight relief from my mental fog when I rounded the corner and found the trash bin had been emptied.  It is, after all, trash day.

There is something refreshing about the fact that our trash will be hauled away on a weekly basis.  I get a similar feeling from dumping the recycling bin (literal or electronic) or when dropping off a load of "stuff" at Goodwill, or other donation centers.  It's the lightening of a load--a removal of excess in my life--that brings a touch of serenity to my heart.

I am constantly amazed at how much clutter I have.  It's not the nick-knacks and mantle pieces you may envision, but the extra baggage that I heap on myself with stress, worry, anticipation and expectations. I long for my mind to grow still and steady, taking the good with the bad, letting the bondage of fear be taken away by the Sanitation Department.

While I salute the hard working employees at this city's Solid Waste Department, I would like to gather contact information for the Non-Tangible Waste Department.  I have a lot of life debris that I'd like to schedule for removal.  But, that job may need to be referred to the Spiritual Dermatologist, as the growth may need to be surgically removed.

Come to think of it, I have the card of someone who can do the job completely.  He's available 24 hours and doesn't charge extra for weekends or holidays.  His rates blow away the competition.  In fact, the last time I used His services He told me the bill had already been paid in full!  I don't know why I forget to call on Him every time I have a problem!  I guess the obvious slips my mind in the midst of my mental mess.

He definitely loves referrals, so if you are interested, just let me know.  I'll make sure to put you in touch with Him.  And now that I'm thinking about it, you'll need to excuse me, as I have a call to make.

"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. ²⁹Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. ³⁰For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." Matthew 11:27-30

Needing to say NO

As many families can relate, we have a jam packed weekly schedule and time seems to always be flying by.  We gather with extended family several times a week for a meal.  Overall, it's been a blessing and has allowed my children to develop a much tighter relationship with their aunts, uncles and grandparents than I ever had with mine.  But, that also mean that two dinners and a lunch each week are spent at another home, or preparing to have others over to ours.  Add church, band, and sports into the mix, and it's easy to get caught up in a whirlwind of activities without any real rest.

This week, I've had to say no.  I couldn't do family dinner last night after the dentist.  And Friday, we aren't going to get together with our church group.  I need a little down time.

But then came the feelings of guilt.  I worried that I didn't have a good enough reason to bow out. 
The real truth of the matter is that I'm a chronic people pleaser.  I worry about upsetting others, or making waves.  I have a not-so-secret paranoia that my decisions will somehow anger those around me.

While this isn't really a new revelation to me, it was somewhat astonishing that after relating my feelings of worry and doubt to my husband last night, I made a decision to say no to something else: guilt.  And, much to my surprise, I haven't picked my personal guilt trip back up again. 

So, feeling empowered by the word "No" this week, I march on.  While there is still plenty to get done, I am relieved that there are at least two less items that I had to balance in my schedule this week.  And now, I'm off to pick up the girls.  I have a funny feeling that I'm about to get some more practice with the word of the week! ;)

Friend Request?

In earlier blogs, I have shared about many of my failures in friendship.  My years of mistakes have taught me valuable lessons--one of which is that time is required to nurture a relationship.  Does my present limitations of time mean that I should avoid forming new friendships?

A number of months ago, I met a family that really inspired me.  I've had a number of occasions since then where our paths have intersected.  The wife absolutely intrigues me.  She is very soft spoken, but a powerhouse of a woman.  She's a business owner, home school teacher to her 4 children, baker, builder, seamstress and decorator.  She's one of those woman who seem to possess every skill set that I've ever desired to have.  There is no doubt that there is so much I could learn from her.  But is that a selfish reason to want to be friends?

I guess I have to analyze what I have to bring to the friendship table:

1.  I will listen.  Other's concerns and feelings matter to me.  I always try to listen to someone's heart with my own heart. 

2.  I am teachable.  I do want to learn from others.  I want to hear what they have to say and sort through the wisdom they offer.

3.  I am tender.  I'm quick to offer compassion, but also have a tendency to be quickly broken.

4.  I'm a firm believer in prayer.  I will pray for others and that the Lord will act in their lives.  Depending on your personal belief system, this may or may not be a plus.

5.  I'm a get-it-done girl.  You need to take out your kitchen cabinets?  Call me!

6.  I'm a planner.  You want to get married in three weeks?  No problem.  We can pull off a great wedding--cake and all!

7.  I'm a plate spinner.  I can tackle many problems at once. 

Or can I?  The answer is really yes, and no.  When I'm in the "zone", I'm great.  However, when one plate falls down, I often loose balance and have the rest come crashing down around me.  And so I go back to my original question of if it's wisdom to add another friend to my circus (assuming she wants to be friends with me).  I never want anyone to feel like they are spinning dangerously through my life.  I want them to feel valued and important. 

So, what do you think--do I "submit" a friend request or not?

Behind Closed Doors

I once heard a comedian recounting the story of how, after a long absence from physical intimacy, he and his wife were in the "moment", when one of their children started banging on the door, sobbing uncontrollably. 
"What is it?" he asked in a less than friendly voice.
"My hamster is dead!" wailed the child.

I don't remember how things turned out, but I chuckle to myself every time this story comes to mind. We have a hamster.

Marriage is one of the greatest joys I have ever experienced.  But, it does take work.  It takes sacrifice, patience and grace.  And when it comes to intimacy, it takes purposeful and mutual surrender. 

When my husband and I were courting, we committed to each other to stay sexually pure until our wedding vows were exchanged.  In the months leading up to our marriage, I remember thinking that I was going to be super sexual once we said "I do."  But, the realities of intimacy were nothing like what was depicted in romantic comedies.  I had a lot of learning to do about what it meant to give of myself when we found ourselves smack dab in the middle of real life.

Once the honeymoon was over, it was time to go back to work.  That was short lived before I began a more physical job (pregnancy), and boy did intimacy change then!  Breast feeding and post-baby body added a whole new element to contend with.  Then the kids grew, times got even busier and sleep became the highlight of my day.  Being intimate often required every last ounce of strength that I had.

Now, this is in no way a knock on my husband.  I don't want anyone to think that he lacked understanding or patience.  He was, and is, so good to me!  The problems lay/lie mostly with me, a hormonal imbalance, and overexposure to a world that uses sex to sell everything from gum to cars.
 It is amazing how small seeds of discontent can be planted in your mind without even realizing it.  When romance doesn't come in a "Pretty Woman" package, are we still willing to work for it?

Intimacy will often come down to a choice.  Will I stay self-focused and hone in on the trials of the day, or will I give of myself and take in a glimpse of the bigger picture?  I choose the big picture, though in all honesty, often times I'd rather not be the focus of "attention."  But, I am so thankful that my husband loves and desires me.  Though my emotional response may not always be what I want it to be, I choose to act out in love.

Lacking Discipline

I could easily launch into a long discourse about what the lack of discipline has done to American society.  A failure to let our "yes" be Yes! and our "no" be No! has led (in my opinion) to the personal, familial and national moral decline that we see today.

But, I am not about to start pointing my fingers at anyone, when I know full well that I am as guilty as the next.  Lack of discipline (on my part) has meant inconsistency in my parenting, my writing, my exercising, my eating and my communication with those I care about.

I blogged a number of days ago about how I really wanted to "unplug" in the after school hours.  I wanted the time in the afternoons and evenings to be free from electronic distraction so that I could give more focused attention to my children and husband.  I made it about 30 minutes that first afternoon before the phone calls/texts came in asking for help in sending emails and looking up other documents on-line.

Today for lunch, I pulled out a bowl of watermelon, intending to have a few pieces.  It now sits next to me totally empty.

Exercise goals?  Sure I've had them.  But don't look too hard around my house for the half-marathon medal.  It isn't here.

Dictionary.com defines one aspect of discipline this way: activity, exercise, or a regimen that develops or improves a skill; training.  I want to be consistent in exercise.  I want to develop a regimen that will help develop and improve the skills that I have.  I need training in many areas of my life.  This discipline gig is not for the faint of heart!

Neglecting to set boundaries in my own life will have very real consequences.  It may range from ill health to broken relationships.  The freedom of being an adult offers me the ability to play, eat, spend, etc. with little outside pressure to stop.  But, I don't ever want to live with the mantra that "rules are made to be broken."  Freedom is a blessing, but as you've undoubtedly heard (as it pertains to the Armed Forces), "Freedom is bought with a price."

It may appear that discipline has no place in this modern world, but I say "bring it on!"  It's uncomfortable, and I don't like it, but there is no question in my mind about its necessity. 

People who accept discipline are on the pathway to life, but those who ignore correction will go astray. Proverbs 10:17

Old vs. New

I'm finding that I'm at an interesting crossroads, and am not quite sure how to choose a path (or can I force the paths to merge?).  On the home front, I'm trying my best to unplug.  I want less computer, less television, and fewer phone calls.  I realize that the last few years have seen many wasted hours that could have been better invested into my family.

But, in the working world, technology is a necessity, and staying on top of the changes is a must.  Even providing the most basic type of modern, professional exposure requires Facebook, Twitter, blogging, email, events calendars and websites. 

Just today, I was on a quest to find out the most cost effective way to do a radio remote.  Here is one suggested string: mic to notebook to internet to Skype to station computer to board and then on-air.  For a few hundred bucks, you could find me anywhere in the world broadcasting right back to my home base.  There is a lot to learn!

With smart phones taking over the world, and with new "apps" being added daily,  it is very possible that I might soon be able to plug a microphone right into my iphone and on into the studio.  One problem with that--I don't have a smart phone (of any kind).

So how much do I invest into technology?  Will AM radio be around 10 years from now, or will all broadcasts be heard through your phone?  Did you know that newer models or cars are being built without radios?  Just docks for your phone and mp3 jacks!

If you have any suggestions, I'm open.  But for now, these are just a few things I'm trying to mull over before I shut this all down and make an after school snack.

Looking for Validation

I struggle with the need to feel validated by others. While, there is a time and place to receive healthy appreciation from bosses, co-workers, spouses, kids and friends--there is a deeper issue of realizing my worth that needs to be addressed.  The scriptural answer to this problem is always in the back of my mind.  However, it's not easy to "feel" the truth . As a reminder (for myself and others) I thought I'd look up a few verses that speak to who I am in Christ.

I am not under the law, but under grace. (Rom. 6:14)
I am an heir to God's promises. (Gal. 3:29)
I am complete in Him. (Col. 2:10)
I am blessed. (Numerous scriptures)

This list could be considerably longer, but "I am" also running late. 

Lord, help the truths you have spoken over me resonate in my emotions as well.  Let me feel your presence so deeply that I stop questioning who I am, but keep my eyes fixated on who You are.
Amen

If it's not an emergency, then ask Papa!

Today has been one of those days.  It's been one of those weeks actually, and it's only Wednesday.  But, to fully explain the story, I have to go back a few days more.

Sunday evening, we had some friends over for dinner.  The adults were inside talking, while the 4 kids were out on the trampoline.  Suddenly I hear: "Hannah, are you OK?" No response.  Again, "Hannah??"  I have that momentary panic--the kind that you don't let anyone else see.  Your mind races to the worst possible scenarios, and then back again.  When I heard her start crying, it was actually a relief.

She came in, covered in grass, and explained she had fallen out of the trampoline (and onto her head and back).  We have a net enclosure, and this accident took skills that only my oldest has (for getting hurt in unusual ways).  Fast forward to the next day and many dizzy hours later, I was concerned that she had a concussion, and went off to the doctor.  She was given a very thorough exam, and now seems to be doing fine.

Last night, Sydney gets out of bed to report that she has pain in her lungs when she takes deep breaths.  It was obvious that it wasn't an emergency, but still, I was concerned.  Today, after playing in a bounce house (no, I did not let Hannah join in), she started gasping and clutching her throat saying that it was closing up.

For those that have kids with asthma, severe allergies or other medical ailments, you know what your heart feels like when you are on the brink of "Do I call 911?" or "Do I have what it takes to handle this situation?"  Well, by God's grace, I handled it.  But once the immediate threat was over, my body and mind went into shut down mode.  I got so tired and overwhelmed that I had to call in re-enforcements.

So, I now sit on the couch, after not taking a nap (that I was instructed to do), waiting for the word on what the doctor said.  I feel half like a big lazy jerk for not going with Bob to the doctor, but half so taxed that I can't imagine doing anything but sitting here.

Prayers for my sanity will be greatly appreciated.

Second Hand Clothing

My mother-in-law is the queen of garage sales.  She gets out on a weekly basis and scours the city for treasures that others are ready to discard.  She takes pride in showing a Thomas Kinkade mantle piece that she got for a dollar, or the $30 cookbook that she snagged for fifty cents.

One of her biggest gifts to our family has been a never ending supply of second hand clothing. Having grown up with my fair share of neighborhood hand-me-downs, I've never thought twice about wearing someone else's former belongings.  She produces bags of clothing, especially for my girls, that have undoubtedly saved thousands of dollars from our budget.

Still in elementary school, my girls don't yet realize the negative connotation that our culture puts on the word "used".  I pray that they never have the experience of having a child look down on them for their appearance.  But, chances are, it will happen.  My goal is to help them be self assured and confident in who they are, not in how they look.

Now, I do want my girls to learn how to take care of themselves.  I want them to look nice, even stylish if we can swing it.  But the fact that a shirt cost a quarter in someone's driveway, rather than twenty or thirty bucks at the mall, shouldn't cause a bit of shame.

What is it that makes an individual stand with shoulders back and head held high?  Sure, money can give the appearance of self-assuredness, but catch them in the "raw", the wealthy are just human beings, full of flaws and problems (like everyone else) but covered with a designer label.

If I were to get a million dollars in the mail today, would I still wear garage sale clothes?  Probably.  I'd like the freedom to go and buy whatever was needed without budgetary concern, but I wouldn't want to give up the healthy pride I experience by knowing what a great deal I scored with the shirt I'm wearing.

I want to teach my girls good stewardship and how to be of exemplary character.  They are fearfully and wonderfully made, and no dollar amount will either add to, or diminish that fact.  I greatly desire for them to walk through life with confidence, knowing who they are in Christ.  The clothes may have been purchased at a discount, but their security comes from Him paying full price!

The joy of stillness

It's Sunday morning and my children spent the night at a friend's house.  I have the rare opportunity to sit in my bay window, enjoy the breeze and listen to the stillness around me.  With my husband sound asleep, I've had over an hour to read, pray, and relish the silence. 

Normally, I'm not very good at sitting still.  I'm quick to get restless and long to have my "to do" list full and efficient.  However, I recognize this morning, that these moments of peace are a gift, and I'm going to enjoy it.

These next few weeks will be very full.  I've been asked to be present for the birth of a dear friend's baby.  That should be happening any day now.  And with summer coming to a close, it's time to start sorting clothes, buying school supplies, and the like.

But this morning, I have no immediate responsibilities.  Sure, I could start a load of laundry, or go clean the kitchen, but the busyness can wait.  As the coolness of the air brushes over my face, my heart is happy to just soak it all in.

Rather than continue to type out all the revelations that a moment like this could provide, I'm going to turn off my computer, shut my eyes and be still in the midst of the morning.  May your day be a blessed one, and may you also find time to just be still.

707

During a recent interview with Pastor Matthew Hagee, he shared about the 707 challenge he had issued to parents.  It's so simple, yet often times goes unfulfilled in many American homes.  The challenge is this: Spend 70 minutes with your child, 7 days a week. 
For work at home parents, this may come very naturally. I however, have noticed that even though we spend every weekday from noon until bedtime together (and almost every waking weekend hour), I often don't take the time to have focused time set aside for the girls. So, today we did a little craft project: masks. 

We had fun working together, and I hope this is the first of many such positive, productive afternoons we spend together before the school year starts again.

Sleeping Through the Storms

For almost three weeks now, I have been experiencing a host of physical and emotional symptoms that have led me to diagnose myself with everything from mono to a brain tumor.  Admittedly, I have a tendency to imagine the worst case scenarios, but when your body starts acting contrary to what you  know to be "normal", it doesn't take long to develop a list of possible ailments.

While I wait to see a doctor on the physical stuff, I'm left to battle the emotional part.  And for me, this is a life long fight, with periods where I feel the insurgents will get the best of me.  For those that deal with depressive tendencies, you know just what I mean.  I feel as though I have been under heavy fire for these last few weeks.

Today, after bawling on the phone for 20 minutes to my sister, I decided it was time to sit, pray and surrender.  I'm not ready to turn myself over to the emotional monsters that want to destroy my peace--but rather, I want to give up, and let the Lord fight this battle on my behalf.  I never had a fighting chance on my own anyway.

There is a painting that hangs over my couch that serves as a reminder of the hope I have.  It is actually the inspiration to the naming of this blog: Storm Sleeper.

This photograph doesn't do justice to the remarkable painting by Glen Strock.  But, as I gaze on the face of Jesus, asleep in the midst of howling wind and waves, how I long to have that kind of peace.  If you look carefully in the upper right hand corner, you will see two small boats.  No doubt the crew members are straining at the oars, desperate to escape calamity.  Sadly, I most often resemble the panicked crew.

While my natural inclination is to sleep in order to escape life's problems, I want to be able to (with confidence) shut my eyes, and rest perfectly, knowing that the Lord will never leave or forsake me.  He sees my needs and will meet them in His perfect timing.

If you will allow one more artistic plug, I want to share the lyrics of a powerful song that has often ministered to me on this very topic:

PEACE BE STILL

words and music by Chuck Elmore copyright 2010

V1 – Young night blue, light of heaven shines on me, this day of fullness comes to close
I’m staring down fears that the darkness makes me see
While the rest of the world lies in repose

V2 – Thoughts of not yet, and the thoughts of days before,
Sleep seems to stay a dream away
My mind is a boat and I’m straining at the oars
Through a tempest that keeps your peace at bay

Pre-chorus – Oh, the wind and the waves (the wind blows and the waters rise)
The wind and the waves (they salt my tears and they blind my eyes)
But you’ve told me to go (I go and I am going on Your word) speak, Lord

Chorus – Peace, be still, I Am, I Am, peace, be still, I Am, I Am, I Am

V3 – You’ve lifted me up as a city on a hill, a candle to shine on through the dark
And I have been sent like an arrow from your bow,
And You are not one to miss Your mark (pre-chorus and chorus)

Bridge – My body is Your temple, my life is Your throne,
Your law is on my mind, my heart, not on condemning stone
Your Spirit lives within me, Your touch comes through my hand
And with Your words, and in Your name I say

Chorus 2 – Peace, be still, I am because You are, peace, be still, I am because
You are I Am (repeat)

So, I close with an Amen and prayer that when next we meet, I will be at peace and still, whether in the midst of the storm, or safely planted on the shore.

Learning the Art of Friendship

With each additional year I travel into adulthood, I realize that there are some key lessons from childhood that I either didn't learn, or learned incorrectly.  "Friendship Fundamentals" seems to be a class I failed to sign up for.

In Elementary School, I didn't fit in with the "cool" kids, but also didn't have a heart willing to befriend the unpopular.  There were a few girls that I had some forced play dates with, but nothing much lasted beyond 5th grade.

Middle School didn't offer much help.  There were a few girls that I just loved, and had some genuinely great times with.  But, once puberty hit, I found myself dragging pitifully behind the pack.

In High School, I found a whole new makeup of personalities as I went to a school in another district.  It was easy for be to make friends with the guys. I was quick to fight back and wasn't pretty enough to be a girly distraction.

There were a few girls that also came into my life at this time.  Having been pretty sheltered from the social scene in my younger years, I warmed up quickly to the idea of sleep-overs and hormone induced drama.

Summertime music camp also formed some unique bonds with kids I wouldn't have normally been exposed to. One of those friendships went on to be my college roommate for a year.

But, after marrying young and having children soon after, it became very clear that I didn't invest the time needed to maintain a friendship.  It was increasingly difficult to nurture a relationship with other women.  I felt that my struggles were often too shameful to share, and with a few exceptions, I kept to myself.

A majority of the friendships that died off have to do with my financial situation.  While that sounds horribly shallow, let me explain.  The first 5 years of raising my children were the most difficult times of my life.  If I ever had an opportunity to get out with a friend, I was desperate to escape the noise and chaos of my home.  I wanted "adult time" but didn't have the resources to do pedicures or go out to coffee.  I felt that if we couldn't go "out" somewhere, that I shouldn't even bother. This was a big mistake.

Even though we now have a little more flexibility in our discretionary spending, I've burned a lot of bridges by neglecting those key years.  And the older that my children get, the less free time I have to invest into others outside my home and immediate family.

I have learned some hard lessons in the last few month about what it means to be a friend.  To any of you that I have hurt with my ignorance, indifference or isolation, I ask your forgiveness.  I want to be a friend and teach my children how to do the same.

Not Writing

Have you ever started a project with zeal, even with Divine inspiration behind it, only to find that months (even years) later it has come to nothing?

That is the sad reality of my writing (or my not writing).  Years ago, as I was walking through some very difficult times raising small children, I felt that the experiences and life lessons that had been given to me might provide help to others as I shared them in a book.  After all, writing was in my blood--my grandmother was a poet, my father a master thesis writer and playwright, and I had been writing tidbits for as long as I could remember.  Then, a few months ago, I got "the call."  One of those phone calls that I thought the Lord had put in my path to reignite the fire to get a book done. 

For the first two weeks (or so), I was charged up and everything seemed to be falling into place.  I was finding good time almost every day to get writing done.  Sources of inspiration seemed to be all around me.  A writing conference was lined up, and I was looking forward to meeting a key editor that could get me where I needed to be.

Then, life happened.  My grandfather's health deteriorated and he died a few weeks later.  The kids started summer break, and I never had any time alone.  My cousin died very unexpectedly and I needed to travel to Ohio.  Extra hours were needed at work.  My enthusiasm fizzled out.

So now what?  I don't really know.  The writer's conference is still out there, but my "in" seems to have disappeared.  It's still summer break and this is the first time that I've gotten anything accomplished in quite a while.  The lack of vision, coupled with discouragement, seems to have gotten the upper hand.  But I know that defeat is not the answer.

Just this morning I was reading a daily devotional from Oswald Chambers.  It said: "God gives us a vision, and then He takes us down to the valley to batter us into the shape of that vision. It is in the valley that so many of us give up and faint. Every God-given vision will become real if we will only have patience."  He goes on to say, "The vision that God gives is not some unattainable castle in the sky, but a vision of what God wants you to be down here. Allow the Potter to put you on His wheel and whirl you around as He desires. Then as surely as God is God, and you are you, you will turn out as an exact likeness of the vision. But don’t lose heart in the process. If you have ever had a vision from God, you may try as you will to be satisfied on a lower level, but God will never allow it."

So correct me if I'm wrong, but here's what I can expect: vision, battering, possible fainting, patience (hopefully), whirling, God's end work.

Oh Lord, help me have your vision for my life!  Let me not grow weary of being battered in the valleys of life.  Give me courage and patience.  Hold my head up through the dizziness and form me into your completed work.  Amen.

From Death to Life

At 4:15 in the afternoon on Father’s Day, I arrived at my parent’s house expecting to celebrate my Daddy.  I was met at the door by my sister who was crying.  Unable to tell me what was wrong, she pointed me to my mother who informed me that my youngest cousin Abigail had died.  Stunned, I listened to the account of the freak accident that took her life.

The “celebration” of Father’s Day was muted and surreal.  I spent much of the evening crying.  I called my sister-in-law to share the news and to ask for prayer for my family.

About an hour later, the phone rang.  My sister-in-law was calling back to share a remarkable story.  When I had called her, she was in the car with her husband and children.  The kids asked many questions about what had happened, and the report of the tragic accident struck a nerve with my niece Abby.  She kept saying “I want to see Abigail, I want to see Abigail.”  The two had met months earlier at a family gathering.  They both had soft brown, curly hair, and my cousin had explained to my niece that they shared the same name.

Now, my four-year-old niece was insistent that she see this young woman.  I would like to close with the account of what transpired in the car that evening, as written in a condolence letter by my brother-in-law Bryan:

We explained that Abigail was in heaven with Jesus.  Although Abby seemed pleased with this destination for Abigail, our Abby was intent on seeing your Abigail again.  And since she kept hearing us say, “Because Abigail had Jesus in her heart, she went to heaven when she died,” that seemed to fuel a fire in Abby.  She needed to be assured that she was going to go to heaven one day too.

After some discussion with my wife, we decided that it was a good time to share the gospel message with her.  We went through the basics of why Jesus came and died on the cross, how He rose from the dead, and that we can go to heaven by accepting Him as Lord and Savior.  Abby didn’t need much convincing as she knew she was a sinner, and that she loved Jesus and wanted Him to be in her heart. So no more than 30 minutes after the news of Abigail’s death, our little Abby gave her heart to Jesus, and had her name written in the Lamb’s Book of Life—thus answering our four-year prayer for our daughter.

  I pray that this story will somehow bring comfort to your hurting soul.  God does work all things for the good … even tragedy.  Know that the death of your daughter and the second birth of ours will always be intertwined, with the end result being God’s glory.  And one day our two daughters will meet, and surely talk of God’s glory and His beautiful ways.

Isaiah 55:8-9 (ESV)                                                                                    

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

                                               

Being Unfriended

It came to my attention yesterday that a longtime friend of mine was no longer a "friend" on Facebook.  Assuming the best, she may have canceled her original account and recreated a new one.  However, I'm thinking that the more realistic explanation is that she doesn't want to hear any of my "Christianese" by way of FB postings. 

It made me really sad, because she and I have so many years of memories together.  We used to be very close and an important part of each other's lives.  It is true that we hold two very different world views, but does that mean we can't be friends?

I know that there are some who say the biblical passage about not being "unequally yoked" would apply to friendships as well.  However, I would argue, how are we to ever make a personal impact on individuals if we can't form the bonds of friendship with them?

I have tried so very hard to not be a stereotypical TV Christian who judges everyone and has a "holier than thou" attitude.  I know I mess up, and at times my beliefs my cause a rift between myself and someone who has very strong contradictory opinions. But all in all, I hope that my "branding" is one of love and compassion.

Just today, I was expressing to a teenage boy that my desire is to speak the truth in love.  I do believe there is an absolute truth.  I do believe that there is a heaven and a hell.  I do believe that Jesus is the one and only way.  I guess that in and of itself is offensive enough to exclude me from the party.  Loving or not, the message is too strong for some to tolerate.

It hurts to be rejected.  But I guess Jesus knows exactly how that feels.

Typecast as Jesus

Because of my job as a radio host, I'm often sent books and movies that the publishers/producers are hoping to have me talk about.  Recently, I received a copy of the movie "The Encounter".  Without giving too much of the plot away, it features a cast of characters who have a modern day encounter with Jesus.

The role of Jesus is played by Bruce Marchiano, who has played this part many times before.  I got to thinking about what it might be like to be typecast in that role.  Often times actors are cast in roles because they are strongly identified with a particular character.  The audience comes to expect them to speak and act in familiar ways.  While it may be comfortable for the viewers, it probably becomes a bit monotonous (and/or intimidating) for the actor.

But what would it be like to be known as the guy who plays the Son of God?  On one hand, it could be viewed as a career killer.  Jim Caviezel, known for playing Jesus in "Passion of the Christ", has repeatedly told audiences that he was shunned by Hollywood after playing the part.  But, on the other hand, it undoubtedly opens up doors for relationships and conversations that could be life changing.  I can imagine it would also put you under the spotlight, as the world watches to see if you bear any likeness to the character you portray.

Most of us will never be called to play the part of Jesus, but we each have the opportunity to "act" like Him as we live out our lives.  I couldn't think of a better way to express how badly my heart wants to walk out my faith (though my will often wars against it) than to close with the lyrics from the Warren Barfield song "Mistaken":

I shouldn’t have to tell you who I am
                                    
Cause who I am should be speakin’ for itself
                         
Cause if I am who I, I wanna be
                             
Then who you see won’t even be me
                             
Oh well the more and more I disappear
                            
The more and more He becomes clear
 
Chorus:
                         
Till everyone I talk to hears His voice.
                                               
And everything I touch feels the warmth of His hand.
                               
Till everyone I meet sees Jesus in me
                         
This is all I want to be, I want to be, 
                                    
Mistaken for Jesus, Oh I want to be, mistaken

Tree, Tire Swing, and Tears

My older daughter has been asking me for weeks to put up a tire swing.  Finally yesterday, I got on-line to see what it would take.  There were several websites that sold them for $100 or more. Not having that kind of extra cash, I suggested we head over to Lowes (with Internet DIY directions in hand) and get what we would need.
Long story short, it was suggested to me by an employee that I buy toeing line (the kind to toe a car).  It would be strong enough and I wouldn't have to mess with the chain and hardware.  So, $15 later, I had the line and a nice sized tire and was determined to get it hung.
It really didn't take long to "assemble".  I looped the line over a branch, fastened the hooks, at voila--a tire swing.

I proudly waited for my husband to congratulate me on my cleaver idea.  The only problem is, he didn't.  Asking how much the line was, he told me I could have just used the rope we already had for free.  And besides, the loop hindered the effectiveness of the swing.

I was mad!  Expecting praise, I was totally floored by the comment.  My husband probably could have been a little more sensitive in his approach, but the real problem was my heart.

I'm very much geared with a personality that wants to tackle obstacles--but usually as quickly and cheaply as possible.  When he had a better (and cheaper) way to do it, my pride was bruised.

It has taken me a night to sleep on it, but it is now clear that the correction he offered was meant to help, not to hurt me.  My prayer today is that I will be quicker to hear the wisdom and council of others and let go of my pride.

After hanging the swing on a single line, it IS much better.

Poverty and shame will come to him who disdains correction, But he who regards a rebuke will be honored.  Provers 13:18



Anniversary in Review

This last weekend my honey and I were able to get "away" for the weekend and take advantage of a local B&B.  It was a house built in 1912 and had tons of character and charm.  We spent two days nurturing our marriage and reflecting on the 11 years that we have been together. 

While the kids missed us (and by the end of the weekend, we were missing them too), it is so important to take the moments that we can to focus on our relationship as husband and wife. 
Celebrating marriage is not a norm in America anymore, and in this case, I take great pride in being unusual.

Thankful for neighbors

Four years ago, I was jolted awake by a noise that my mind couldn't place.  It continued sounding and I jumped out of bed to investigate.  Approaching the window on the front side of the house, I pulled back the curtains and saw a raging fire.  The neighbor's RV was going up in flames and the tires were exploding from the heat.  That night, many of us gathered on the street to watch the fire department extinguish what was to be the first of two large fires in our neighborhood in the coming months.

The second fire happened just two doors down from the original.  That same sickening sound awoke me, and I knew instantly what it was.  I tore open our bedroom window to find the house across the street engulfed in flames.  Running outside, we saw many of the same neighbors springing to action.

Thankfully, there were no fatalities in either of these fires, though the second one left the home's renter badly burned.  What proved to be a series of traumatic events for those involved also served to bring our neighborhood together as nothing else could.

We know that Charlie and his wife lost their daughter to breast cancer.  We know that a young dad underwent surgery to have a brain tumor removed.  We know when the nurse next door will be leaving to visit her mama.  We know that there were too many suspicious cars parked in front of the home of a teenager who appeared to be dealing drugs.  We've baked cookies, we've kept an eye out, and we've called police.

Earlier today my girls went to play with a neighborhood friend and made mini cakes.  She's now at our home as her mom goes to work.  It's a good feeling to know that we look out for each other and can be neighbors in the truest sense of the word.

Do you know your neighbors?  I encourage you to take a few extra minutes and chat when you go out to get the mail.  When you get invited to go to the Christmas block party, but you're hesitant because you don't know anyone, go anyway.  Neighbors are important and you can be an equally important witness as you simply take the time to show you care.

Summertime fun??

A few days back, I stood at the door of the classroom listening to a mom celebrating the fact that school was almost over for the year.  She had been eagerly anticipating this day for weeks.  I felt like a big jerk, and held my tongue from saying what I really felt: "What's to love about summer?  I love it when the kids are in school!"

In all fairness, I can't begrudge the kids that incredible feeling of knowing you have been set free from the oppression of long school days and hours of homework.  However, from my perspective, I have a hard time getting anything done when they are on summer break.  All the errands, appointments and home projects that usually get done without their notice, now involves them tagging along accompanied by a chorus of whines.  Case and point, between the last sentence and this one, I've had to break up multiple fights, try and get permanent marker off my sister-in-law's table, ground my children from TV indefinitely, and pack up a tent.

The sad reality is, that my children don't know how to "be".  This modern world (and yes, I think a bombardment of technology is partly to blame) inundates us with sights and sounds so frequently, that when the gadgets are turned off, they don't know what to do.  But, much of the blame lies with me, as I often look to unwind at the end of the day (or in the middle of the day) by turning on the TV or checking Facebook.  I've not set the best of examples.

This last weekend, we did do lots of activities together.  We went bowling and bike riding.  We took walks and baked.  Now today, as I try and get one entry completed, the fighting begins and the glazed look of boredom washes over their faces.

Do you remember being bored as a kid?  If you actually admitted it to your parents, you very likely were given a list of chores to do.   So, in honor of times gone by, that's exactly what I did!  My children have now cleaned the bathroom, dining room, living room and playroom.  Their rooms are clean and they are quietly (for the first time today) writing lines, including the passage from 1 Corinthians 13 about what love is.  Love is patient, love is kind, it does not envy, etc. . .
Once they finish the current assignment (depending on how close it is to bedtime) they may also be writing the passage: do all things without grumbling and complaining. 

While I acknowledge that I may sound a bit hypocritical, my goal is not to launch a blog full of complaints.  Rather, I want to vent into cyberspace and make sure that my reaction to my children, and their bad choices today, doesn't come from a place of anger.  Just as the Lord continues to work on my character through the trials He has given, He is also working in the hearts and minds of my girls.  Lord, help us all to not grow weary as you mold us into your image!

Memorial Day

Not too long ago, I attended a "Welcome Home" party for a friend who had just returned to America after being stationed in the Middle East.  I wanted my girls to join me as we celebrated his safety and service.  Not having anyone in our immediate circle of influence who is active duty military, I wanted them to see what it looks like for a soldier, with a wife and children, to come home after serving his country.
While they probably enjoyed the Frito Pie more than anything else that afternoon, I am glad that they got a chance to see a "real" soldier.  Our overexposure to media produces so many images, often causes the personal faces of war to be forgotten.

 

Me, Carlos and wife Jennifer

It's easy for me to overlook the fact that serving our nation requires incredible sacrifice at all levels.  Those who wear the uniform risk it all to make sure we enjoy the freedoms we take for granted.  But the families of those who serve are left to hold down the fort and carry on with the everyday business of life, all the while praying for the safe return of those they love.

So this Memorial Day weekend, take a moment to pause from your cookouts and camping trips to pray a prayer of safety for our troops and give thanks for the generations of men and women who were willing to do their part to make sure that America remains "The Land of the Free."