Deacon

Happy Birthday, Deacon!

A special birthday post coming soon!

love, your mama

Grace in Groceries

So I was in Publix the other night.

It had been a while. I was child-less and I was focused. The pen was flying quickly across each item on paper as I placed it in the cart. The wheels turned quickly and agilely around each corner, not having to maneuver around tiny people who always seem to have the keen ability of being right in the way. I felt light and I felt fast. I was conquering the grocery store.

I quickly moved past the fruit juices then the yogurt. Was that on my list? I scanned the scribbled paper I held in my hand. Nope... keep moving.

I was just about to turn down the canned soup isle when I suddenly had to put on the brakes. A Mama had blocked the entrance. She was talking to her little girl and she didn't see me. Once we made eye contact, though she slowly pulled back, allowing me to pass her.

I continued on my mission, making more check marks down my list.

I arrived on the next isle, and began scanning the shelves. Sometime I forget to write things down on my list. I added a couple of things to my cart, ignoring the urge to write them down, just so that I could mark them off. (yes, I do that)

I heard them before I saw them. The Mama and her little girl who must have been about 2. She was not happy. She was fussing and wanted out of the cart, then wanted down, and then wanted her Mama to hold her. And the Mama was talking to her baby girl. Voice soft, gentle, patient... "Are you hungry? Here's your banana I brought for you. No? Then what do you want? A hug? Why don't you hug Mama?"

I looked up then and studied them both. The Mama was a Marine. She wore heavy boots and a dark green top that was covered by what appeared to be a maternity shirt. Her hair was pulled back tight in a bun. She had tired eyes, but willing arms.

I looked at my watch. It read 8:30pm. She just needs to be in bed, I thought.

I moved past them and went onto the next isle. After a few minutes they followed. This time the baby's cries were louder, more demanding. I honestly expected to hear a drill instructor voice come from this tired, pregnant, Marine Mama. But I didn't. Not at all.

"You know I love you...I have missed you all day... Aren't you happy to be with Mama, Lilly? I have waited all day to be with you! she said very controlled, sweetly.

I turned then, my heart going out to this Mama who had been away from her little girl all day, who had missed her and who wanted to just be with her baby, even if it was in the grocery store, even if it was past her bed time.

I did not expect to see what I did when I turned back to look at them. There she was, this big strong Marine Mama and she was on the floor holding her crying baby girl. Sitting. Next to the sugar. In the middle of Publix.

I quickly turned back around, not wanting to embarrass her. I went on to the next isle. My next item. My next check mark.

I smiled to myself as I listened to them from the next isle over. She was still there, on the floor, consoling her child. And I thought, would I do that? Would I lay aside my pride, my list, my agenda to hold my tired, demanding child in the middle of the isle of Publix? What a sweet Mama she is. What grace.

I wondered what the other people around would be thinking. Would they think it was sweet? My first thought was, no. They would probably see it has ridiculous, inconsiderate, annoying. That seems to be the general consensus these days.

But before I could point my finger at the people in Publix, the people in our culture, I first had to stop and look into my own soul and ask that hard question. How do I view my own kids? In the middle of their meltdowns, in the middle of my schedule, in the middle of hurrying through this life?

Often times I am the guilty one. The one who thinks to slow down is a bit ridiculous. To have them interrupt my life is a bit annoying. To extend grace is a little inconvenient. And how inconsiderate is it to have to go to the bathroom when we're in the middle of Wal-mart??

This Marine Mama had no idea how she was convicting me, how she was blessing me, how she was challenging me.

I hoped nobody said anything to her... you know, in a mean way.

Then I felt that prick and I tried to ignore it. The one that makes your hands sweat and your heart beat fast. I'm not really the 'go up and talk to strangers' type of person. I tried to keep going, I tried to stay on task, I grasped my list just a bit tighter.

But then I realized I had forgotten something important on that one isle. I knew I had no choice.

I waited until I had placed it in my cart. Checked it off my list. Turned my cart around so that I could make a quick get-a-way.

I turned and looked at her. She was still busy tending to her tired baby. So I quickly said, "Excuse me. I'm sorry. But I just wanted to say..." what?

How do you tell a perfect stranger how they have blessed you? How do you explain the monologue you had just been having one isle over? How do you thank her for sitting on the floor in the middle of the grocery store to tend to her crying baby...?

So I just said, "You're a sweet Mama. Thank you for blessing me tonight."

I think she was expecting me to say something else. Something negative. Because her eyes lit up and she looked surprised. "Well, thank you" she said with a tired smile.

I walked away and I smiled. I was glad I had said it. I was glad I saw it and was able to really see. I was glad for the reminder to slow down and that it's ok to sometimes look silly if it means ministering to my children. I was glad for the reminder of grace and of the way God parents us.

That's something He would do. That's something He did when He was in the form of a man here on this earth. He sat with the sinners. Even when others thought He was crazy. He still did it, because they were His kids and it just didn't matter what other people thought when it came to His grace. It was ridiculous. It was radical and I'm sure a bit annoying to those who thought He should straighten up His robe a bit or tighten His sandals.

But that's the thing about grace. Sometimes it's messy and not always neat. Especially when it's your kids your giving it to. And especially when you are in the middle of life and in the middle of the grocery store...

T.G.I.F.

This was our 4th week of homeschooling this school year. And I have to admit, I am thankful it's Friday!

It's our second year at it and it's a struggle every day. Some days are better than others with cheerful attitudes, excitement to learn, excitement to teach! And then there are the other days when we all just have a good cry...

There is so much sacrifice that goes into homeschooling. And, once again, I've decided to be real about it.

Yesterday I found myself at the eye doctor for my annual check up. I really like my eye doctor. She's around my age and has the cutest ChicAgo accent. =) Everything is just "fantAstic!"

So we got to talking (we had a year to catch up on) and she told me that they had had their first baby 7 months ago. I congratulated her, of course, I mean how exciting is it to have your first! That got us talking about babies and kids and I told her I had three. We talked about how fun they are, how much work it is and how it changes you...

We chatted a few minutes and then she said, "Well at least they are all back to school, right?"
I smiled and said, "Yes, well, I homeschool them. So they are back to school, but they are still home with me."
You never know what kind of response you're going to get these days. But she was very nice and said,
"Oh, wow, that's wonderful!"
I scooted back into the big chair and said, "Yes, it is wonderful, but it's hard and I don't always have a good attitude about it...especially last week when some of my friend's kids were all going back to school and honestly, I was a little jealous!"
She looked a little taken back. She stilled the papers in my chart she had been shuffling, "But don't you want to homeschool? I mean, do you wish you had put them in school or do you have to homeschool?" she asked.
I answered, "No, I am not being forced to homeschool. It was a decision my husband and I made together. It's what we feel is the best for our family this year. We believe in it. But it's not easy. It's really hard. And I have to work at having a good attitude and being disciplined and being motivated. It's a huge responsibility and one I don't take lightly." And I could have continued with... I worry I'm not giving them enough. I get overwhelmed and just want to quit. Then I feel guilty and want to quit. And I get so tired of dealing with the attitudes and the 'making them do it' and the planning and the  struggling with not being creative and impatient and did I mention I'm tired?
But I didn't want to scare her.
She paused slightly and said, "Yeah, I guess it would be hard. You have to be their mom and their teacher..." She thought about that for a second then added, "...and you don't really get a break either."
"No, you don't", I confirmed. "But it's worth it. It is. And I know that. I can already see that it is. But it's still hard. And I don't always have a good attitude, but I'm trying."

After that I think we talked about the hurricane or something else. But my thoughts lingered on our other conversation.

It is hard. But maybe it's supposed to be. Because anything worth having is worth sacrificing for...right?

And then the words of my dear friend in Kentucky echoed in my ear..."Give yourself a break! And give your kids a break! You are doing a good job, you are! And they are doing fine, they are getting sooo much! Really, they are..." (thanks E)

God gives you the encouragement as you need it. Just enough to keep going. So we will... keep going that is. Until God directs us otherwise.

But boy, I sure am glad it's Friday...!

Call me Old Fashioned

I have been called many things throughout my life.

I remember the first time I figured out I had a strange name. I was in the first grade and one of my classmates called me "Mi-Cow". I looked behind me thinking he saw an actual cow, but then I realized, no, he was talking to me... Since then it has been amusing listening to people butcher my name.

"Mi-Kale" is the most common around here. I have actually had people ask me if I was named after Mikhail Gorbachev. (really?)

I am also known as Mickel (as in nickel), Mik-la, Mikayla, Michael (yes, we actually get mail addressed to Mr. Mika'l Qualls haha), Michelle, Mica, Mi-kall, and I'm sure I'm forgetting a few.

I am also called many names by my close friends and family. Including many from the list above, there is also, Sister, Sis, Kel, Auntie Kel and now Tia that I answer to!

But I think my brother hit it on the head when I was about 13. That's when he started calling me "Quaker-Girl". I have always been what you call an 'old soul'. I think I was actually born a century too late. I LOVE old fashioned everything! Clothing, hair styles, shoes, horse drawn carriages, linens, doilies, jewelry, lamps, barns, farms... and especially old timey decor.

I am finally embracing this obsession of mine. It used to be embarrassing for me to admit, but I'm now shouting it from the cyber-space roof tops! I am old fashioned!!!

I am especially drawn to everything wicker. I just can't help myself! I see it, I want it, I have to have it! It can be any size or color. And no matter where we are, that's the first thing my eye sees. I realized this today after coming home with THREE more pieces of wicker furniture. It beckoned me from the outside of a thrift store as I drove by. But it did not beckon long... soon all 3 pieces were jammed in my van along with my 3 squirming kids.

When I got home I began to notice all the wicker around me and thought it would be fun to share this obsession of mine with you!

There is wicker for every room in this house...

starting with the front porch

wicker for empty spaces

wicker for Uno

wicker for magazines

wicker for flash cards

wicker for paint brushes

wicker for crayons

wicker for paper, wicker for cd's

wicker for school supplies

wicker for storage

wicker for mail

wicker for stationary

wicker for books

wicker for laundry

wicker for more laundry

wicker for coffee and tea

I even have wicker look-a-likes!

wicker squares

wicker hearts

wicker for towels

wicker for clothes pins (great cookbook by-the-way!)

wicker for reflections

wicker for faces

wicker on top of wicker

wicker for socks and such

wicker for make-up

ok, this isn't wicker, but it's just so stinkin' cute!

wicker for toilet paper

wicker for light

wicker to set wicker on

wicker to sit on

wicker for more people to sit on

wicker for bedsides (and more light)

wicker for toys

wicker for stuffed animals

wicker for bags

wicker for closets, wicker for blankets

wicker for babies

wicker for little bottoms

wicker for bigger bottoms

wicker for wash cloths

...and does there always have to be a reason?

wicker for remotes and other necessary items

and wicker for plants

And believe it or not, I have spared you many of the pictures that could have been included! It's sad, I know. But I don't think it will ever die. It has been a life-long obsession that is only increasing with age... and the more space I have!

Hmm... I wonder if there will be wicker in my heavenly mansion....? Well, at least on the front porch!!

Brokenness

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Ps. 34:18

This word weighs heavy on my heart, mind, my very soul.

I have stumbled across it often lately in books, blogs, sermons, in life. Even in nature, it's everywhere.

It is a word that scares me. Mostly because I am understanding more and more its necessity.

I have been weighed down watching the brokenness of those close to me and those not so close anymore. Their grief, their diagnosis, their loss, their pain, their choosing to keep going, their choosing to give glory to God in the midst.

Right now I am on the outside. Tomorrow I may be in the midst.

A few nights ago I woke up from a strange dream. It was about this very word. Broken. I was struck by it, a bit shaken actually. It's not something I like to really think about, explore, you know how it is. It scares me.

In my dream I was a woman - well, sometimes you are strange creature-like things - and I think there was actually more than just one of me. And we were all together in a room. And I was watching the others of me. And they were different than me. And I noticed this. They all had a common bond, a unity that I could not share in. They had been broken, cracked open, stripped clean, there had been pain, repentance, restoration and now they were smiling. They had come out on the other side and were giving thanks. I think they shone, something like the glory of God.

I was waiting for that to happen to me. But it never came. I looked down at my hands and they were closed tight. Little white balls that screamed "NO!" and I felt it inside of me the "NO!" of not wanting to be broken. Not wanting to feel pain or repentance or obedience. It was so real and I understood what I felt and why.

And then I heard the other of myself say in a far away voice, "Look, she is turning." And so I looked and I was. I was becoming mush. Mush? Yes, like in the book Goodnight Moon - "a bowl full of mush..." My hands and feet and then the rest of me turned to a strange kind of mush and I was rendered utterly useless (well, it was a dream after all and stranger things have happened in dreams).

And then I woke up.

I stayed awake for a long time after. My mind wouldn't stop thinking about what I had just dreamed, the strangeness of it and why I would dream such a thing. Again, it scared me.

A couple days after my dream I was again faced with the 'need' of it. This time while teaching science to my children - the process of a seed. It must be broken, die in fact, for new life to come about. And we see this everywhere in the process of new life: a butterfly breaking it's cocoon, a grasshopper breaking out of it's locust shell, a snake shedding skin and it goes on and on...

And again I am brought back to the fear... and this tight-fisted clutching of "NO!" And my dream is no longer a dream, but reality. And I feel it all turning to mush, ash, utter-uselessness... all while staring at a science book.

And then tonight. While in the middle of composing this post, we are driving home from a day spent with friends and it's raining and the thought comes quick and wild, it could easily happen in a flash, and then it almost does. Tires screech, steering wheel sharply swerves, I grasp the door and gasp as I force my eyes to watch the car pull out in front of us, bracing for impact. But it doesn't come and we somehow escape, this time.

You see, I know it's necessary, this brokenness before God. To be transformed, renewed, made more like Him. I know we can trust Him with our lives, with our pain. I know this, I have seen it, have experienced it, I believe it. So then, why do I brace myself for the impact, why do I fear it?

I looked up Matthew Henry's Commentary on that verse in Psalm 51 about a true sacrifice to God being a "broken spirit, a broken and contrite heart". Here is what it said:

It is a sharp work wrought there, no less than the breaking of the heart; not in despair but in necessary humiliation and sorrow for sin. It is a heart pliable to the word of God, a heart subdued and brought into obedience; it is a heart that is tender, like Josiah's, and trembles at God's word. The breaking of Christ's body for sin is the only sacrifice of atonement, for no sacrifice but that could take away sin; but the breaking of our hearts for sin is a sacrifice of acknowledgment.

The breaking of Christ's body...

The breaking of Christ...

The breaking...

It is a necessary work. Not for despair. But to make us pliable... usable... obedient... tender... humble. It is a necessary work, a sharp work, but necessary. And Christ made the ultimate sacrifice, the breaking of His body, the spilling of his blood, Him dying... it was necessary - for no sacrifice but that could take away sin - my sin. If Christ had to be taken there, how much more do we need to be?

 I know I am a slow learner. It takes a while for things to sink deep within me. That's why I often read books at least twice. One Thousand Gifts is no exception. I have read it through once and I am now  working my way through it again. God is teaching me so much. In chapter 8 she shares the whispering of God to her heart about this very issue of fearing what God might bring:

Eucharisteo always precedes the miracle, child...

All fear is but the notion that God's love ends. Did you think that I end, that My bread warehouses are limited, that I will not be enough? But I am infinite, child. What can end in Me? Can life end in Me? Can happiness? Or peace? Or anything you need? Doesn't your Father always give you what you need? I am the Bread of Life and My bread for you will never end. Fear thinks God is finite and fear believes that there is not going to be enough and hasn't counting one thousand gifts exposed the lie at the heart of all fear? In Me, blessings never end because My love for you never ends. If My goodnesses toward you end, I will cease to exist, child. As long as there is a God in heaven, there is grace on earth and I am the spilling God of the uncontainable, forever-overflowing-love-grace.

(I know that was a long quote, but go back and finish reading it... I promise, you will be encouraged!)

Yes, so much to learn.





I want to get to the place where I not only accept ALL the good God sends me, whether the means be through pain or suffering. But to also relax and not fear it, to not brace myself for the impact or clutch tight, white-knuckled. To trust in the goodness of God and the good that He brings through brokenness. I want to give thanks for it, even in the midst.

I will leave you with a few more words from our God. Words our Pastor has been sharing with us over the last few weeks. Words my mind will not let go of...

And we know that God causes all things to work together for GOOD to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.
For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to become conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the first born among many brethren;
and whom He predestined, these He also called; and whom He called, these He also justified; and whom He justified, these He also glorified.
What then shall we say to these things? IF GOD IS FOR US, WHO IS AGAINST US?
He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things?

God is not a closed-fisted God. Why then should I be? He freely gives all good and perfect things, should I then not freely and openly accept them? Giving thanks for them, even before receiving them? Trusting and not fearing? For it is necessary, that I should be useful, conformed, glorified...

Brokenness, Brokenness is what I long for,

Brokenness is what I need,

Brokenness, Brokenness is what you want from me.

Take my heart, and mold it.

Take my mind, transform it.

Take my will conform it.

To Yours, to Yours oh Lord.

Take My Life Lyrics By: Micah Stampley

More Faces of Summer

This is another post dedicated to my brother and s-i-l who are hiking the PCT. To follow their steps check out their blog, the dirt life (to the left).

The summer has continued with more exciting moment and adventures...

Just a week after the little one was born, Elijah was able to welcome his other grandmother, all the way from Honduras!
Waiting to pick up Abuela! He was thrilled...

Catching first sight of her!

Olivia and I took a trip to visit Rebecca in their new Florida home. Mr. Tim helped Liv with her bedtime addiction and found a way for her to listen to Odyssey.

She even got some driving lessons on their old country roads!

We went to the Springs close to where they live. The water stays the same tempature year round, a chilly 70 degrees. And yes, the water was really green, algae and all. The only reason I was swimming in the frigid waters was because I couldn't let my 7 yr. old daughter call me a chicken and be right about it!

As soon as we got home, we needed an E fix!

I couldn't leave the kitties out. I know you have been worried sick about them. But rest assured they are still alive and actually thriving amongst the chaos... here they lay peacefully, perfectly in-sync! ha!

Shanda came for another visit! She brought with her a fun and yummy cookbook and we had to try out one of the new recipes... orange danishes! Just thought I'd make you a little jealous!

We also tried out Taco Boy in Charleston!

 

And the famous Charleston Fountains

Always thoughtful...

Levi kept licking the water as it dripped from his nose =)

 

We also started school this past week! It's been fun, exhausting, overwhelming and rewarding. We are looking forward to another great year!

Notice the back-to-school p.j.'s and fuzzy heads! Gotta love homeschooling!

Oh yeah, and Levi decided it would be fun to try out his new scissors on his hair!

Jaq-Jaq is still kicking! And Levi took a picture of his mad puzzle skills.

 

 

We had a fun birthday party for Mom, the whole gang was there including Jacob and Kali!

We put 51 candles on her cake too! It was fun but we missed your (Hunt) harmony singing Happy Birthday...

She had plenty of help blowing them out!

Faces of Mom

This was our first science experiement this year. She got so excited and started doing her little giggle =)

 

Again, we love you and miss you! Can't wait to hear from you next! And I will try to keep the pictures coming!

Much love,

Mika'l