Toiling.Hoping.Waiting.

It's amazing how you set out to do certain things in a day. Important things, because, well, they are important. And then in an instant it all changes. And none of it is important anymore.

It is amazing how your heart can feel, well, normal. And then in an instant it is hurting. It's swollen with grief and you grasp it, holding tightly willing it to keep beating.

It's amazing how you have no need for the tears resting just below the surface and then in an instant, they are there streaming down your cheeks, running down your neck and you are gasping in anguish.

This, my friends, was the start of my day yesterday. But so much worse for my dear friend Rebecca and her sweet family as they received that call in the middle of the night that told them that her brother, their son, was gone forever.

We are reeling. Me from a distance, watching the tornado wreak havoc on their souls. Them caught in the middle and being pushed and torn and battered by fresh grief.

In moments like these I am forced to wonder. Understanding escapes me and I am left with a gaping wound of wondering. The heart is bleeding out and you look up to heaven seeking the pressure to stop the flow.

My eyes have landed on James 5. God has been using this sweet book in so many different ways to bring me comfort and healing and conviction as of late.

 

Be patient, therefore, brethren, until the coming of the Lord.

Behold, the farmer waits for the precious produce of the soil, being patient about it,

until it gets the early and late rains. You too be patient; strengthen your hearts,

for the coming of the Lord is at hand... Behold we count those blessed who endured.

You have heard of the endurance of Job and have seen the outcome of the Lord's dealings,

 that the Lord is full of compassion and is merciful...

We are toiling in this life. We are farmers planting things, plowing, digging, pulling, aching, hoping. The crop has not been guaranteed us. We wonder if the rains will come or if the hail will come first. We do our best, we work hard and often we are disappointed, because our efforts did not grant what we had hoped it would. It doesn't make sense, because the formula should work. You prepare the soil, you plant the seed, you water the ground... it should then produce fruit.

But often times we do not account for the scorching sun, the wreathing winds, the crushing storms that devastate us. And how do we recover from those?

The how is in the ...compassion and mercy... of our God.

And in the knowing that this is not the end... strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand...

I was listening to a Focus broadcast just a few days ago. They were talking about heaven... how timely. Have you ever said, "When I get to heaven I'm going to ask God..."? Randy Alcorn, author of the book, Heaven, said that really, we wont have to ask. Just seeing God face to face will make it all clear. Just the sight and full, unfiltered presence of the Lord will quiet our questioning hearts, will silence the "what if's", will reassure our doubting wonderings.

In our unglorified state we do not even have the capability of understanding the dealings of the Lord. The why's, the how's.

That is why he tells us to be patient. There will come a day... there will.

In the meantime, there are tears and toiling. The grief cuts us open leaving us raw. We ache for truth and for healing. And I ache for my sister who has ached for me in this real-life friendship we share.

I will go to her tomorrow. I will cry with her. I will listen. I will bear her burden as if it were my own. I will pray and beg for healing. These are the important things now.

And I will be patient as I eagerly await the coming of our Lord.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Dear Olivia

My sweet girl had a birthday last week. We celebrated her 9th year. It's surreal almost, how fast this life goes by. While in the middle of it, it sometimes feels like it's moving sooo slow! And then you look up from your day dream and stinkin' 9 years have blinked by!

 

I know you all experience it and I'm not alone in this. But every birthday is just seems to catch me off guard - again. Maybe one day it wont, but I'm not going to hold my breath!

 

Here's my birthday letter to my girl...

 

 

 

 

 

When I look at you now, I no longer see my baby. Although, you will always and forever be my baby girl…

 

I see a beautiful young girl, blooming into womanhood.

 

How can this be?

 

When you were asked if you felt older the day of your 9^th birthday and you said “Yes, I do” I believed you. You seem to look older even.

 

It’s almost as if you are starting to shed your ‘locust’ shell and are climbing into the unknowns of growing up.

 

I loved watching you become a big sister again this past year. You love to be a little mother. And Judah thinks you are his mother sometimes I think! You are so sweet to him and helpful to me. What a good big sister you are.

 

You are in 3^rd grade this year! You are writing in cursive and reading bigger books and learning your multiplication tables. And now that you are going to Holy Trinity, you are even learning Latin and Astronomy and Greek Mythology! I am so proud of you, sweetie. You have been so brave these past few weeks starting in your new class. You made friends your first day and are working so hard. You are like a bright star in the sky, shining brightly wherever you go. Don’t ever be afraid to shine your light, the light of Jesus.

 

I was so excited for you when you started going to your new school. Even though I knew you were a little scared. I just knew that you would love it so much and do so well. And you do and are. Sometimes things change and we change and because of that our plans change. But just because those kinds of things happen, it doesn’t mean that God changes. He always stays the same, no matter what. And He always knows what’s going to happen, even before we do, so nothing is ever a surprise to Him. That’s part of why we can trust Him. Because He always has things in control and always uses the things that happen in our lives for His purpose and for His glory.

 

He has such great plans for you, sweet girl. Because you are so special to Him. He had you be born on the exact day and in just the right family, and oh how glad I am for that.

 

So when you have moments of doubt. When you aren’t sure of your way or you wonder why things are going the way they are. Know that God knows exactly what is going on and what it all means and why, even. And He hasn’t forgotten you or why He placed you where He placed you.

 

We all have moments like that, especially growing up like you are. It’s tough sometimes and we don’t always understand what we are feeling. But that’s ok. It’s just part of it I guess.

 

Mom and Dad will always be here to help you through it. We don’t always do it perfectly, but you already know that. We still wonder what’s going on sometimes and what it all means! Even Mom and Dad. That’s why we all need Jesus and to be reminded of His love and grace and that He is always there leading and guiding us.

 

 

My favorite times is around the table doing our devotion. I’m glad we are still able to do that even though you are going to school. I love that you love the Bible and are learning it.

 

My other favorite time is at bed time when we snuggle and tickle and giggle and get too rowdy and Dad has to calm us down. I love running my fingers through your hair and kissing your forehead and cheeks. I love feeling the top of your head just beneath my chin. You are getting so tall. And soon you will be taller than me! But most people are, so just remember that!

 

Yes, you are a beautiful young lady. But always remember the most important side… the inside. Your heart. We all have to do heart checks because that’s where everything we say and think and do comes from… our hearts. It can be a beautiful place and an ugly place all at the same time.

 

So as you become more aware of your outside and wanting to look pretty, don’t forget about that inside that can start to look ugly sometimes to. Going to Jesus everyday will cleanse your heart and reading His words will renew your mind.

 

I am praying for you sweet girl. Every day. As you grow up and go to school and love your brothers and help mommy. It’s a big job, but you do it so well. And I’m so proud.

 

Happy Birthday, Livie Rose.

 

I love you.

 

Love, Your Mama

Missing You

Gosh I miss this!

I just can't believe how busy I am these days and that I can't sit here and type like I used to.

Having #4, homeschooling 3, directing music at my church, hosting this or that, cleaning and keeping up with my arch nemesis (laundry) has my head spinning. And my writing chair sadly empty.

Some people laugh at us bloggers I guess. But they don't understand. And maybe I don't understand either.

What is it about sharing your words, your thoughts, your life, your pictures with the world? As small as your world may be.

For me, I think it forces me to be honest. Honest with myself and honest with my world. God has given each of us a small piece of the world. And He's given/giving us a story too.

It's important to share that. Whether you blaawwgg or not!

I love typing my thoughts and ponderings out on this white screen. I love what happens to my soul when I push that 'publish' button. And I love when you share your thoughts about my thoughts. That's just plain fun.

I never imagined that I would still be 'at it' after two years ~ this all began when I was preparing to go to Ukraine. Or that I would come to love it so much. To depend on it for therapy. =) I just never imagined.

I never used to read other people's blogs either. Who cares? (I so foolishly thought!) But since I entered the world of blogging, my world has exploded! I've even made new friends. And I've learned so much about people and moms and their lives. And I really love that.

There is so much to say. So much to share. So much to learn from one another.

So during this season of Thanksgiving, I'm very thankful for you all in blog land. And I'm thankful for the opportunity to share in it. But man, I'm sure missing you all...

Refuge

We are finding refuge this week.

For last week was a very long, difficult week.

We moved.

We lost a cat.

We buried the daughter of  dear friends.

We are finding refuge in a new home and in the arms of the Father.

We aren't claiming to understand. We aren't claiming to be strong. We aren't even pretending to be happy. We are sad, grieving and exhausted.

We plead with you to pray for our friends, who without any warning were forced to say good-bye to their sweet baby girl the very same day they said their first hello.

Once again, we are reeling.

And once again we are seeking refuge under the wings of the Father.

The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer,
³my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge,
my shield, and the horn of my salvation,
     my stronghold and my refuge,
my savior; you save me from violence.
⁴ I call upon the LORD, who is worthy to be praised,
and I am saved from my enemies. 2 Samuel

Seeing the Good

I have been aching to write this post.

Before Olivia's letter, I left you with a heaviness. It is where I am and have been yes, but it is not ALL of where I have been or where I am.

There is so much more to it.

I feel strongly the importance of facing the hardness of life and the goodness of God and how they work together. I feel strongly the importance of talking about it. Being real and honest. Not pretending that there isn't, excuse my crudeness, crap to deal with on a daily basis. Such as difficulties in marriage, raising children, disappointments in life, sin ever-invading...

But I also feel strongly the importance of sharing the good that God has brought from it or is bringing. The gifts He gives us in the daily. Where and how He blesses. We are all so different, therefore the blessings look a little different.

We should never live in the past. But what a waste it would be to not learn from it. To appreciate the good, to recognize the blessings. To give thanks for what He has given. And to share with others.

Isn't that what we work so hard to teach our children? To be honest, to give thanks, to share?

So here is my sharing of some of the gifts God has given me this past year and my choosing to see them...

#1 I must first begin with my husband. Please understand, I am not trying to be predictable.  But I must say these words to him and I must share my heart with others, because I believe it's important.

I was reminded through my mother complimenting Dustin over New Year's, of how I just don't say it enough.

I think life gets in the way too often and we focus on the stresses and the not fast enough's and the not as I would have done it's... And we miss the heart behind the man. Our men. And instead of complimenting and showing appreciation, WE fall short and nag instead.

I'm not a huge 'nagger' (at least I wouldn't say so), but I do too often stay quiet on the other side of things. I just don't say thanks enough.

So, I am saying it now.

Thanks, Babe, for all you do for me and for the kids.

I know you say you don't do much, but you really do. A lot is found in the little. Especially over the last several months when I was down physically or emotionally. You stepped up, you took over and you didn't make me feel bad for it. You were the support I needed when I didn't feel like I could stand anymore, or take yet another blow. You stood up for what was right. You prayed with me. You took the kids, you made us dinner, you cleaned up the kitchen and did the laundry and put them to bed, so I could do what needed doing or not do. I don't think I would have survived well without you.

In the past, the stresses of life had a tendency to tear us apart, to divide, to cause strife and trouble between us. I am so thankful things are different now. Instead, we have come together and acted as a team. I am so thankful. You are one of my biggest blessings, and you shone brightly in the midst of so much darkness. And I thank you.

#2 I have been struck hard by the significance of the church in a believer's life. 'Church' has always been an integral part of my life. I don't remember a time when I wasn't involved in a local church. It's just the way it was. It was never a fight or a drudgery. I loved it. It was important to me, I wanted to be there, even as a young child.

But I don't think I truly appreciated how vital it is to a believer's soul.

When our pastor left, we were devastated. I think I mentioned before that I just wanted to close the doors for a while, take some time to mourn, recover in the silence, in the darkness. I was frustrated when the very next Sunday we were there, sitting on the front pew, singing, worshiping, and yes, crying. Can't I do this alone? On my bathroom floor??

I wondered how our assistant pastor was able to give the sermon he did that day. How the singers were able to lead the congregation without falling apart. How people walked about smiling and chatting, talking together as if nothing had happened. But that wasn't true. Not a single person in that sanctuary didn't feel what had happened.

Over the weeks that followed, as my mind continued to process and grieve over our loss, I began to see more and more. I began to understand.

It was something our assistant pastor said early on... "This isn't our church. These aren't our ministries. They are all God's and He doesn't need us to hold them together. That's His job." (or at least something close to that)

While I was laid up on the couch dealing with pregnancy sickness that one verse from Colossians kept coming to my mind.

He is before all things, and in HIM all things hold together. 1:17

And something else that struck me as I later opened my Bible to let that one verse roll over me, was the very next verse.

And HE is the HEAD of the body, the church; HE is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything HE might have the supremacy. v.18

There it was, all neatly packaged together. For me on those days of sickness and doubt and grief over my church. Christ was still at work and even working through our suffering body. Just as He was working through MY suffering body, knitting together new life inside.

#3 I have also been so encouraged by the true friendship and the sisterhood we have in Christ. Making friends has always been a hard thing for me. But last year I was determined to lay aside my insecurities and give it all I had. To share my life with others and be welcomed into theirs. What a difference it has made.

At my lowest points I was able to pick up the phone or shoot an email, to let someone know I needed prayer. And I knew they were praying. I was able to share in our Play and Pray group and I was encouraged and refreshed.

Recently my children and I did a short study on the different gifts God has given each of us. Spiritual gifts and what that means. It was fun hearing their thoughts on what kinds of gifts God gives us... We eventually made our way to the Bible to find out what these gifts were really all about. As I was looking through my Bible trying to find that one passage, I came across verses like these...

The body is a unit, though it is made up of many parts; and though all its parts are many, they form one body. So it is with Christ... 1Cor. 12:12

Now the body is not made up of one part but of many. vs. 14

If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it. vs. 26

Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it. vs. 27

Again I was struck. Mostly by the simplicity of the picture of a working body, with arms and legs, head and shoulders, and yes, knees and toes... When a part of the body suffers, the whole of the body suffers, over compensating for the wounded area, protecting it and sheltering it from further damage. The smallest of cuts can evoke a sense of greatest awareness. We tend to it, we are more careful, move at a slower pace.

I was so thankful for the opportunity to see the working body of Christ. To experience those coming along side of  me. Picking up where I had to leave off. Tenderly caring for my wounds. You all have my deepest gratitude.

#4 Another true blessing was the gift of family. Like all families we have had our up's and down's. There have been times of pain and growth, hurt feelings and grudges, things left unsaid and things that should have been left unsaid... We all have those times (right?). We have not gone without our struggles.

 

Letting my sister 'go' caused a pain I hadn't before experienced. Oh there has been pain before, but this was different. It wasn't like a spouse or child or parent pain. It was a sister pain. But thankfully, good is coming from it.

The night before Javier, Cally and Elijah left, we all got together for one of Cally's favorite meals of mine... Beef Stroganoff and homemade bread. Javier wasn't quite sure, but I think he ended up liking it!

After the meal Javier started to speak. We were all taken by surprise at the intensity of his voice and the words that were coming from his mouth. They were words directed towards his family... his American family. These words did not come without reaction or response, because these words evoked healing. There were tears shed, understanding took place, forgiveness given and accepted.

Would it have happened if I had not been required to say good-bye to my sister?

The same night we were asked to release a sister, we embraced a brother.

God has a way of doing that doesn't He. Taking something, but then replacing it with another. So how can we only grieve? How can we not choose to see the good that comes from the deep pain...

#5 The little things.

And there are a million of them.  So I will spare you and not list them all here. But they are in my heart and in my book.

I am glad I can be thankful for-

Being able to do dishes, or having someone else do them for me when I couldn't.

For puppy-dog-boys

Words like "Bu-cept" (except)

Simple meals of macaroni (the gourmet Kraft kind) and carrots for dinner...

...and not having a husband that complains!

A girl who is eager to help and is really a help!

medicine for indigestion

Like I said, there are a million and I could go on for days. All these little things add up to great big things that are so helpful when you are trying to 'make it through another day'.

I just couldn't leave you (or myself) hanging on that one post... because it just wasn't all of the story.

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?

No in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.

Romans 8:35,37

The Big Reveal

We are doing a lot of things differently with this baby #4.

Such as previously mentioned, NOT stressing, for one. Waiting until 16 weeks to see a doctor, going to a birthing center/midwife instead of a hospital/obstetrician, starting out seeing a chiropractor instead of waiting until halfway through, thus avoiding much of the pain I usually have. Also, being able to truly relish each moment of pregnancy during this season of life. It's almost as if this is our first time. There are so many first's this fourth time around.

But one thing we couldn't do differently was finding out the gender. We talked about waiting, but quickly realized there would be no way for us to be able to. We are just so excited (and impatient!). But we thought it would be fun to do a 'big reveal' with our families instead of just sharing the news over the phone, as we have done in the past.

We had the ultrasound Tuesday morning and had the US-tech put the results in a sealed envelope. We then handed them off to one of my besties, Rebecca, who came all the way up from Geneva, Florida to help us celebrate. We threw a big party that night and all found out together, except for Rebecca who was the first to know! =)

So even though this wasn't a first, it was very much a first!!





Here are some pics from the night of the Big Reveal!!

Pink AND Blue balloons

GREEN punch

It was so fun talking with Cally and Jav and seeing baby Elijah.

I was so glad they were able to participate from so far away!

My girl, Rebecca. Thanks so much for ALL you did!

We had everyone take a vote by way of cupcakes.





Pink if you thought girl, blue if you thought boy.

(there were A LOT more pinks than blues chosen!)

Alissa, Rebecca's 4 yr. old sweetie, very much like a cousin to my kids.

About to present the results!

 I hide my excitement well...

Can you tell what it is??

Maybe you can tell by the way I am consoling Olivia...

She really was trying hard





Here is a video in case it's still unclear.



Hormones or Heroines?

I've been feeling a bit nostalgic as of late. Yes, a little emotional too.

I watched Sarah, Plain and Tall last Sunday afternoon with Olivia and cried the entire way through it. Thankfully she didn't notice.

It's amazing how much pregnancy hormones will effect every aspect of your life. Not only your stomach (queasy anyone?), joints, hair and nail growth, a protruding abdomen, etc... but also your ability to make it through a movie you can almost quote, without bawling like a baby.

There has been a lot swirling around me lately. A lot of pain and grief. But also much joy. Sometimes it's hard to sort through the feelings... deal with the grief yet celebrate the joy, living life at the same time.

It has been a hard season, these last few months. But we are good and holding on to the promises we have.

Recently I was reading the blog of a dear lady who has meant a lot to me through my life. I was reminded of the faithfulness of God and how He ministers to each of us during the different seasons we find ourselves in.

I thought back over my life and was filled with thankfulness, for all those God placed in my life at just the right time. Sometimes I wasn't even aware of their presence until after. Sometimes it was in the isle at Wal-mart, in the hall way at church, learning geometry, sitting in Sunday School, eating chicken salad, drinking hot tea... I know God has shaped and molded me through those precious women, encouraging me along the way. I wish that I could say thank you to each one, to tell them what they've meant to me, how I changed because of their influence and how I still remember.

It would be impossible to name them all.

I wish they could see my tears even now, hormones and all, for they would see my deep gratitude.

And then I can't help but remember the 3 precious women in Ukraine. Those I feel I left behind after too short a time of teaching and instructing. The 3 who put their life on hold for a few days to seek healing. Who were scared, who didn't want to but knew they had to. Who risked everything to come partake in God's Word with two American girls who really didn't know what they were doing. My thoughts never drift too far away from them, wondering where they are now and the ways God has found them, how they really are. They are my true heroines. And will forever be. The women who have lost so much, yet risk it all to become whole again.

I have been so blessed to have known so many women who have in some way changed me. I pray my own daughter will be as blessed. There's only so much (and oh how much) a mama can say. We women need the words and lives and examples of other women, throughout our lives.

So thank you, you have all meant so much...

What does Insecurity plus Fear equal when divided by Scripture, Teaching and lots of Women?

A very special something...


The women from my church gathered together one weekend this past April to take part in our annual Women's Conference.

I did not want to go.

Don't get me wrong. I love women. I love spending time with them, being encouraged by them, laughing until our sides split.

But I did not want to go to this conference. You see, I have a fear of over-night get-a-ways with people. It's rooted back to teenage insecurities that I've never quite gotten over.

So let me tell you how excited I was when I found out that my boys first t-ball game was scheduled for the Saturday morning of the conference!

Oops. Guess I wont be able to go... Oh well. Maybe next year...

Unfortunately, God is sovereign. = )

And I am so glad. He wanted me there. I needed some encouragement, some conviction, plus He had a plan in mind that I didn't. So I ended up going Friday night, traveling back home and back to the meeting place after the game the next morning. I didn't even miss a single session.

After the last session, the speaker of the conference had us form a circle so that we might share what God had spoken to us that weekend. It was mandatory - everyone had to participate.

My heart started pounding. Would I be first? Would I be last? What on earth was I going to say?

Many of you who know me may be thinking, that's not like her! She never misses an opportunity to say SOMETHING! But for some reason this was different. Sometimes the people around me become bigger than God. What they might possibly think controls my every move or rather paralyzes me in fear. I was having one of those moments.

My turn finally came. And I started talking, still not sure what I was going to say. So I told them about not wanting to come, about my insecurity and my fear. I told them about the specific scriptures that God had used to encourage and convict me, the ones about the tongue and the heart and how the two work together. About my desire to be a good mom, but my struggles in being gentle and patient and needing encouragement. I cried. My ugly cry. And hiccuped through my speech.

Why do I do that? I just gush it all out! Now everyone knows. About my stupid insecurities and my failures as a mother and the fact that I don't know what I'm doing...

I felt so foolish.

But you want to know the crazy thing about it all? After my sobbing session woman after woman came up to me. And they were telling me they too had the same struggles in their mothering. Some had grown kids, others had young and it was all the same... I can't get it right either... I need encouragement and accountability... maybe we should get together...

At first I didn't feel so stupid. But then God began to whisper something to my spirit.

You need one another... you need to share your burdens with each other... to hold each other up... to be encouraged... and to stop looking at each other in judgement... measuring yourselves against each other...comparing... I want to minister to you through one another... will you let me?

Out of this the Play and Pray was born.

I am so excited to share with you what exactly this is and what exactly we do!
Once a month my dear sisters get together at one house to pray while our kids gather at another house (with babysitter) to play.

We have lunch together and share what's going on. I mean really share - honestly. Then we pray for one another, and I mean really pray. After prayer we offer encouragement or 'advice' as God leads. Because we need one another...

It has been so refreshing being able to be honest before them with my own struggles and to hear how they are struggling so that we can bear each other's burdens (Gal. 6:2). And to know that, no I am not the only one who struggles with tempers and tantrums and liars and family 'issues' and submission and honor and obsessions and homeschooling uncertainties and throw up and pee on the shower curtain!

It has been a tremendous blessing to me. I always leave feeling encouraged and renewed.


Out of this I have become very passionate about a certain issue. And I must warn you now, but first let me just say, I have in no way conquered this or 'arrived' by any means. I have purposely waited several days to post this to make sure my heart is in the right place... and it isn't. If I waited until there was no longer any judgement or pride or condemnation or self-righteousness in my heart, then I would be dead. But I am climbing up on my soap box anyway! Just know that I am not preaching at anyone but myself!


So to all of us moms, I have something to say. 'Us' because I'm the first one that needs to hear it.

Mothering is a tremendous blessing, yes. But it is also one of the hardest things we will ever do in this life is it not? And we need one another.

We get tired and frustrated and want to just sleep for crying out loud! There's laundry that never ends and our heads hurt and backs ache and can I just have a little quiet please? There is dinner to prepare and dishes to wash and load and diapers to change and diapers to change and diapers to change! And the never ending whining that could justifiably be deemed as an official language. There are tantrums that overwhelm us and developmental issues that keep us up at night. There are sicknesses, attitudes, night terrors, sibling rivalry, back-talk and boo-boos. Our ears ring at the constant chattering and eyes bulge at the forever messes. We want to give up. We have weight issues and feel ugly. At certain times of the month we are irritable, we get snappy and cramps and emotional, we worry. Our husbands don't get it and there are expectations that never get met. Not to mention the pressure we put on ourselves to be (or at least appear to be) perfect, to keep it all together, to dress fashionable and modest with matching accessories and hair all done nice. To recycle and eat healthy, exercise and have all the answers plus a clean house. To not be in debt, to read our Bibles every day and discipline in even tones, without anger, every time. Showing grace and love and Christ to EVERYONE ALL THE TIME! Do you feel tired yet?

And I haven't even hit on the big issues we face like loneliness and fear, loss and infertility, miscarriage, abandonment, impacts of abortion, divorce, abuse, rape, alcoholism, adultery and pornography...

And where does God fit into all this mess? Because life is messy.

There are many people who have more successfully answered that question better than I ever will. I thankfully and very humbly glean all I can from them. I am not attempting to be a theologian at the moment, only practical and honest. So please excuse my crudeness for a moment:

Can we please just cut all the CRAP??

Can we please just face the fact that no one is perfect!? Can we just be ok with that? We ALL struggle. NO ONE has it 'all together'. EVERYONE messes up, gets it wrong, yells at their kids in moments of exasperation. We ALL fail. How do I know this?

Read the Bible much? That happens to be the very reason Christ came to die for us... because we are all miserable sinners... every time. Just watch your children. Their hearts are deceitfully wicked above all else... and nothing really changes the older you get...

The way I see young moms (including myself) walk in the bondage of perfectionism makes me want to shout from the roof tops... IT'S OK! YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE PERFECT... because He was for you.

It's hard, I know. It's ingrained in us to do right, be right, appear... right. But oh how WRONG that is.

Instead, I think we should all take a chance, be vulnerable with someone (not everyone) but someone who you can be real with, who will pray for you, I mean, really pray.

A couple of weeks ago I took that chance and sent out an email to my sisters...

-----

Alright ladies...

I thought I would 'take advantage' of my praying sisters...

Instead of holding on, walking in my pride and stubbornness and failing miserably,

I'd like to ask for additional prayer.

I'm just feeling a bit overwhelmed with life and mothering and wifing and schooling

and laundry and wanting to just give into the temptation to ignore all of the above with

a movie and chocolate... and feeling guilty because I know we all have life stuff and this

is so trivial and things are really good but I'm just choosing not to see the good and

wallowing instead.

Thanks - I just didn't think I could wait to share/ask that until our next meeting

(which I am loving btw).

Much love and appreciation for each of you, really - mq

----

I sent it out. It was scary. I felt foolish. These ladies have real hardships - some have husbands deployed, have experienced true loss, they are saying good-bye, dealing with children fears, deep family issues, some have husbands unsaved, are dealing with pregnancies and sickness and depression and...

...and I was just wallowing.

But through their reply emails I was reminded that it's ok. They understand, they've been there too and each of them were praying for me. I was encouraged and convicted and I began praying for them as well. I was seeing the true beauty of the Body of Christ as it was meant to work together. Not in judgement or with conditions. But with love. Because we need one another.

I was glad that I took that chance, opened up and that I was encouraged.

The following Sunday my pastor preached that kind of sermon that makes you wonder if he followed you around taking notes the week before...

He ended with a verse in 1John - a very well-known verse that I've never really 'gotten' before.

"There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves punishment,

 and the one who fears is not perfected in love." 4:18

The most familiar part of that verse is "Perfect love casts out fear"? And I've never quite understood the context until now. The reason we don't have to fear is because we can have assurance. We know we aren't perfect and guess what, so does God. And He doesn't hold it against you, why? Because He held it against His only Son, so that He wouldn't have to hold it against us.

So we don't have to be afraid... of God or of others and what they might think of us. Because it doesn't matter. His love is perfect, non-condemning, He doesn't compare us to each other, so why should we?

Instead, let's embrace the mess, embrace the pain, embrace each other without comparing or judgement or hypocracy... cause that's what Christ does for us. God wants to minister to us and through us. The question we have to ask ourselves is, will we let Him?


This is so hard, I know. But I want to look at women (my peers) differently, in the way God created us to see each other. Through the lens of compassion and understanding, not comparing and undermining. I have found that it is possible! Have I perfected it? No. But I do have a glimpse of light. And that has come through opening up, taking a chance, being vulnerable with my 'issues', praying for each other and being encouraged. It's called grace. And we need one another.


And to think I almost let my insecurities and fears get in the way of such an important lesson. Makes me excited for next year's conference. I can't wait! Sleeping bag and all!!

You are Special - Part 2

(I was waiting to post this next one until I found a picture of Brian and I, but alas, I give up. I know I have it somewhere and if I find it I will add it later...)

I watched a movie several months ago with some friends. The main character is a young boy who is dying of cancer. It is a really sad, but somehow uplifting story. I was a mess pretty much the entire movie. The thing I was most upset about was watching his friend, who was a girl, loose her best friend.

I really haven't allowed myself the privilege of going back to being 8 very often. There was so much I didn't understand or know how to process. And now I only remember snap shots.

But during moments like that movie, I am forced to remember.

Brian was a special little boy. I feel honored to have known him. His life and death had a huge impact on my life.

He taught me how to be aware of people. What it means to stick up for someone. How bad it hurts when someone makes fun of you or someone you love. And how to let it roll off your back. I started to loose a bit of the fear I had of people. I cared less of what they thought. I remember feeling very strongly about that even then.

There is a book by Max Lucado entitled, You are Special. It is a children's book and is one of my favorites. I cry every time I read it to my kids. I cry for many reasons. Brian is one of them.

The book is about Punchinello, a little Wemmick who had only dots. The Wemmicks were wooden people who spent all of their time and energy giving other Wemmicks stickers. They were consumed with watching others to see what kind of sticker they deserved.

Would it be a star? Or a dot?

Punchinello wasn't like the other Wemmicks. He couldn't jump high, instead he would fall. And when he fell his paint would chip. Each time, the other Wemmicks would run up and give him more dots. Some would give him dots simply because he had only dots!

Having only dots made him sad. It made him feel like a bad Wemmick. But one day he met someone who didn't have any marks. It's not that the others didn't try to give her stars or dots, it's just that they wouldn't stick!

"That's the way I want to be," thought Punchinello. So he asked her how she did it.

She took him to the wood carver's shop. There he met Eli. At first he was scared and started to leave. But as he turned to leave, the sound of someone calling his name stopped him in his tracks.

"You know my name?"

Of course he did. He was his maker and he had been expecting him.

Punchinello asked Eli why the stickers didn't stick to his friend. "Because she has decided that what I think is more important than what they think. The stickers only stick if you let them. They only stick if they matter to you. The more you trust my love, the less you care about their stickers." Was his answer.

Brian was my friend who showed me how to not let the stickers stick.

He had cystic fibrosis and would often have to run to the bathroom to cough up the mucus that was filling his lungs. No matter what the other children said, never once did I hear him respond. He chose to not let the stickers stick.

I came across a passage in Luke recently that struck me hard relating to this issue.

"Master," said John, "we saw a man driving out demons in your name and we tried to

 stop him, because he is not one of us." "Do not stop him," said Jesus, "for whoever is

not against you is for you."  9:49-50

Did you catch it?? Did you see what John was trying to do?? He was trying to give that man a dot! A big, black one and he was trying to get Jesus' permission to do it!!

How often do we do the same? We busy ourselves dissecting the lives and motives of others, even those who are doing the work of God. We get so busy giving them stars and dots. Both are wrong.

Both are wrong.

You know, I really don't need the help of others. I'm pretty good at giving stickers to myself. I do it constantly. I compare myself to you.  I judge myself, measure my self-worth according to you. Yes, you the reader!

Something else Eli said in the story was, "Who are they (or you) to give stars or dots? They're Wemmicks just like you. What they think doesn't matter, Punchinello. All that matters is what I think. And I think you are pretty special."

So how many stickers do you have? Do you have lots of stars or dots? How many have you given to yourself?

I don't know about you, but I am getting pretty itchy.

I'm ready for them to fall off. I'm ready for my Maker to show me how it doesn't matter what others or even what I think of myself. It's what He thinks and He thinks I'm pretty special. Just as He did Brian and just as He does you.

And now Brian is in the arms of His maker completely wiped clean of all those stars or dots. Instead he has been given a crown, which I'm sure didn't sit long on his head before he placed it before the feet of Jesus.

Oh to be whole. To be pure. To be wiped clean, really really clean! How I long for that.

Thank you my sweet friend for pointing me to the Christ. I can't wait for you to introduce us when we meet face to face.

You are Special - Part 1

I was lying in bed, almost asleep,

then the words started coming,

my heartbeat quickened,

my eyes flew open

and I knew...

it was time.

Time to write about Brian.

But where to begin? How do I begin? How do I go back to being 8 again? I can only try.

I remember the big hallways. It was all brown somehow. It smelled like pencil erasers, chalk, teacher's perfume and someone's turkey sandwich. I wore brightly colored clothes, two pairs of socks scrunched down on top of one another and a side pony tail. I was small. I was skinny. I was a prime target.

But I didn't care. I wasn't scared. Because I had a job.

I took that job very seriously. It was more than a job, it was a friendship. And I took it seriously.

Brian was small too and skinny.

I remember his smile. I remember his hands. His shoes that looked too big for his small body. I remember loving him.

I remember walking into class each day of second grade wondering if he'd be there. I remember where he sat, where I sat just across from him.

I remember being angry that his seat was in the back. It should have been in the front. Why didn't the teacher move him to the front?

I remember the stares. I remember my arm somehow encircling him, protecting him and staring back even harder. Why did they do that?

I remember his jokes. Him laughing. Me laughing. He would flip his eyelids inside out to make me scream. And I would.

I remember wishing he could come out on the playground. The days he could were the best.

I remember taking him his homework, walking into his room, him lying in bed. Smiling. What did we talk about? Did I tell him how much I loved him?  That I wanted to always be there for him. That it would be ok. Did I hold his hand?

I remember my mom's face. It looked tight. Sad. Something was happening that I didn't understand. Did Brian know?

We were going to get married. Of course we would. I loved him. With all my heart. I wanted him to be ok, to get better. I just knew he would.

He did get better.

I remember when Mom told me. I was in her room. I think she had been crying. "Brian's gone to heaven, honey," she said.  Does that mean he's better now, I wondered. Then I cried. Had I ever cried that much before?

I remember the church. I sat with my classmates. I didn't understand and was a little scared. There were priests in long robes saying things I couldn't understand. There was crying. I was so, so sad.

I remember the grave site. I saw a flower on the ground and I picked it up. It wasn't real. This didn't feel real. I wanted to go home.

I remember school wasn't the same anymore. There was an empty seat. No one stared. There was still laughing. Kids playing. It didn't seem right. I got the chicken pocks.

I missed my friend. He had gone to heaven. He was better now. I was glad, but I still missed my friend.


to be continued...

Moving on up...

The past week has been grueling and exhausting. But we are seeing the light at the end of the tunnel and I am thankful.

We moved this past weekend!

We have moved before, many times before, but somehow I forgot how much work it is!! I was trying to clean off the stove top this morning and my arms felt like jello! So I left it dirty - it's not going anywhere.

Even as I'm typing I am realizing that my fingertips hurt! Ugh!

But as exhausting as it has been, it has probably been the best move we have had so far. DQ and I still love each other. No one got hurt that bad. And we managed not to forget anything or anyone! Plus, we moved into a great house that I think we are going to love - I mean, I already do!

We are renting from some dear old friends. (They aren't old, we have just been friends for a long time!) He was the leader of our youth group. That's pretty much where Dustin and I fell in love. But most importantly where we grew the most spiritually during our teen years. Mike was a wonderful youth leader, mentor and friend. And I remember Sherry made the best chili and enchaladas!

Dustin and I were two of the 8 or 9 that attended his first youth group meeting back in '98 I think. And it just so happened that we were able to be there for his last youth meeting in '09. Mike had a huge impact in both or our lives. I have never been challenged the way Mike challenged us. Not only spiritually, but in our purity as well.

For a long time Dustin and I thought that we would go into youth ministry. I think that was due in large part to Mike and the way he not only discipled us, but loved and cared for us. We wanted to do that for kids too.

That's not the direction God took us, but the imprint Mike left has always remained. I am so thankful God provided his leadership in our lives at that time. It forever changed us.

And now he is our landlord!! It's kinda funny and really great at the same time. We are so thankful to be here.

Someone asked me how many times we had moved and I couldn't remember exactly, so let's see:

Grace Park to Bonair

Bonair to Longcreek

Longcreek to Seacrest

Seacrest to Longcreek

Longcreek to Stagecoach

Stagecoach to Sam's Pt.

Sam's Pt. to Stagecoach

Stagecoach to Willow Pt.

Willow Pt. to Sunset

Sunset to Pine Run

I think I told them 11 times, but I was close! And remember this has happened in just 8 years of marriage!! I think we have the military beat!

Hopefully we will be here for a while and I can put down some temporary roots!! But I feel certain we will move a few more times before it's all over - it's just what we do!!

A Valentine

 

 

Valentine's Day is my least favorite holiday.



I'm not sure why that is. But I've always... *eh hem* ... hated the 'love' holiday. I love the story behind it. There really was a man named Valentine. He stood and fought for marriage to be legal among soldiers who fought for Rome. (for a brief history go here) But nobody talks about the real meaning of the holiday anymore. They just put a lot of pressure on poor husbands and boyfriends all over the country. And then there are always the unrealistic expectations left for the women.

Maybe I've become cynical. Maybe I'm just unromantic. Or maybe somewhere deep down I've been hurt. Maybe my cynicism reflects my insecurity. But why would I want to think about that on today of all days? Well, I guess it is the day after...

My mom always made a big deal on Valentine's when we were kids. There were thoughtful gifts, a trail of construction paper hearts, heart-shaped pancakes... She still does. This v-day she made me some brownies and to-die-for raspberry squares of some kind which are scrumptious with a cup of hot tea! I have always appreciated that.

When I became a mother I assumed I would catch the creative Valentine gene and cute heart-shape things would just burst out of me like confetti!

Once again, wrong.

It's something I have to 'work' at. But it's something I mostly fail at. Seriously, one of the first things I thought after we decided to homeschool was Yes! I wont have to buy 50 of those stupid little valentine's!

This Valentine's was actually sweet. Dustin announced on Saturday that he would take the boys v-day shopping. I was a little surprised. He knows he can get away with the bare minimum with this girl. Plus we have all been sick, so neither of us really had the energy. I soon caught the Valentine bug (which was so much more pleasant than the other one we've been fighting) and Livie and I went and did some of our own Valentine shopping which ended up being a lot of fun. We even got extra to make for some friends! Man, I must have been sick!

Deacon was curious about what it all meant, and I overheard Dustin explaining it to him.

"Well, you go Valentine's shopping for the special ladies in your life. And buy something like candy or flowers. Who are the special ladies in your life?"

I was sitting quietly waiting for his answer. Expecting him to immediately say Mom or Livie.

Instead he very shyly said, whispered in fact, "Abby and Ba-Ba".  (Ba-Ba is what my kids call my mom) (Abby is a friend he has known since they were babies)

I really wasn't surprised. These ladies are really important to him and when he loves, he loves deeply. There are other important ladies in his life as well. I know that I am one of them, so I was ok with his answer. It was actually really sweet and very appropriate. I knew that Ba-ba would make things special for him on v-day. It only made sense for him to have something special for her in return. 

They did exchange valentine's and so did him and Abby. He took very seriously his job of finding the perfect Valentine gift for Abby. Instead of the usual chocolates or candy he opted for something 'meatier'. A cake! I thought it was so cute! Such young, sweet love!

The pictures are of their valentine exchange. The smiles say it all!

So do I still hate Valentine's? Yes. But I really enjoyed this one. Kids can make things really special, without even trying.

Friendship

"Our relatives are the family that we are born with, our friends are the family we choose."

"A true friend is someone who thinks that you are a good egg even though they know you are slightly cracked."

"Through life we suffer. Through friends we never have to suffer alone."

It was my freshmen year in college. First night on the hall. I was pretty much freaking out. It was my first time away from home, at least that's what it felt like. I had just said good-bye to my sobbing parents and siblings. The night before that I had had to say good-bye to my boyfriend. This was a pretty big deal for us all. I was already terribly homesick.

I had just taken my first shower in a 'public' shower, flip flops and all. I was ready to crash after a long and emotionally exhausting day. But my social roommate had other plans. "Let's go meet our neighbors." So with my towel looking like a turban we went across the hall to say 'hi'.

Erin and Rebecca were the two who opened the door. They were pajama clad too. Rebecca noticed mine right away. "Are those Victoria's Secret?" she asked me. "Yeah!" I said. "I thought they looked familiar. I work at the one in the Mall..."

And so begun an almost 11 year (and going) friendship. Has it really been that long?????????!

We weren't close friends at first. We were both so different. Me, the pushy loud mouth and Rebecca, the full of grace 'southern bell' as we liked to call her. But we began to wear off on each other I think. She began to toughen up some and I'd like to think I softened a bit.

She was a bridesmaid in my wedding. For the bridesmaid's gifts I really wanted to give each one something different. Something that represented our friendship more than a necklace or earrings. So I thought long and hard about each one.

For Rebecca I decided to make something. It had to be colorful and mean something. I settled on an embossed stamp. I'm not going to be able to describe it to you. But it really turned out pretty, just take my word for it! Here was the inscription:

A Reassuring presence, a light

when times are dark, a hand reaching out

is what Friendship is all about

At first I thought it might be a little corny. I had a hard time deciding if I liked it. But God knew that one day I would look at that and be reminded of His provision.

It wasn't until about 5 years ago that things started to get tight - with us I mean. I was really going through a difficult time in my life. I was seeing a counselor and he encouraged me to talk to a friend about what was going on in my life. Self-righteously I told him, I have no one. There is no one in my life who I could share THESE things with. In his very 'counselor' way he told me that was ridiculous, surely

you have a friend with whom you could share THESE things with, so find one and find one fast.

I was mortified. How could I possibly tell someone THESE things about me. These were my dark and dirty. Who I truly was. No one would love me after they knew... I went back and forth in my head and the name that kept coming to mind was my Cola friend -  Rebby.

So I called her on my way home. I knew that if I waited any longer I would chicken out. I was almost home when I finally dialed her number. I said, I need to come up this weekend, I need to talk to you face to face. She said that was fine, so we decided on that Saturday.

We went to lunch, which I ate none of. Once I started talking I couldn't stop. I told her everything. And then I braced myself for it, whatever 'it' was. Either she as going to pass out, throw up, or ditch me. Thankfully she did none of those. She calmly responded in her very gracious manner. I know she said a lot that day that got my attention. But one thing sticks with me to this day.

"Mika'l," she said, "I will support you and be there for you no matter what you do. I am your friend. But what you are doing is wrong."

Just as simple as that. I love you, but you are wrong.

It was exactly what I needed to shock me back into reality.

There were many, many dark days after that for me. She was there for every single one of them. There are no words to express my gratitude and thankfulness to God for His provision during that time up through the present. She has been a huge encouragement to me in so many ways. I have also had the privilege of walking along on some of her hard roads as well. It's what we do.

This is for you, my friend. I love you with all my heart and don't know what I would do without you by my side. No matter where life takes us, I pray our journey through life always includes each other. I just don't know where I'd be without you. So thanks R.

-sweet stick