Planting Daisies

There she is......Miss America!

2012-01-15T14:20:00.000-08:00

When I was growing up I never missed the Miss America pageant. I always made sure I had all my homework, practicing and chores finished so I would be able to sit uninterrupted and watch the pageant. I dreamed of being Miss America. After watching, I would play “Miss America Pageant” for hours in my room. I would walk the runway, accept the crown, bend down and look shocked as the former Miss America tries to pin the crown in place, pretend to cry, and wave at my imaginary audience looking overwhelmed, humbled and excited. I never watched the “other” pageant. (Miss USA) I respected the Miss America Pageant and foundation for promoting inner beauty, intelligence, good public speaking skills, and my favorite---the talent competition. Over the years I have watched some incredible talent grace the Miss America stage. I remember Susan Powell (Miss Oklahoma) claimed the 1981 Miss America title. She was a vocal performance major at Oklahoma City University. She performed a rendition of "Lucy's Aria" from Gian Carlo Menotti's opera, The Telephone. I can still hear and see her singing it in my memory today. Gretchen Carlson (Fox News Anchor) not only won Miss America in 1989, but she also won the preliminary talent competition with her classical violin solo. The talent portion has always been my favorite portion of the pageant.

I started to lose interest in the Miss America pageant in 1997 when the total focus of the pageant became the fact that it would be the first year the contestants could wear two-piece swimsuits. It was the only thing they talked about and it overshadowed everything else in the pageant. The girls got skinnier and more like super models instead of normal healthy young women.

This year I used the DVR so I could watch it later. I noticed that everyone wears two pieces now. I am sure this has been the norm ever since 1997. I was struck by how extremely thin and “chiseled” the women looked. If the swimsuit portion was unimpressive to me, the evening gown competition was a glaring look into the minds of our young women today. The selection of the evening gown was to show the contestants’ taste, confidence and flair for fashion. They were recorded talking about how they felt in their gown, why they chose the gown, or something along that line of questioning.

Here are a few quotes from the evening gown portion of the pageant that particularly caught my attention:

"My gown definitely has a little bit of a sex appeal to it. It has a high slit, a low cut, but is basically just showcasing the body that I’ve worked so hard on my entire life." (Miss Illinois)

"In today’s society, ‘sexy’ is very subjective and so is ‘beauty’. So for me, Miss America being sexy is rocking a stylish outfit, looking hot, and also appealing to young women who are trying to relate to her." (Miss California)

"I think Miss America is sexy. And Miss America does need to be sexy because it is all about sex appeal these days. I think being sexy is being confident with who you are and being able to strut your stuff in any given situation and know that you are sexy while doing it.” (Miss Alabama)

I have always held the Miss America pageant up to be "ideal" pageant because it focused on scholarship, whole beauty, all-around character, talent, and intelligence. I admired the women of years past. They were beautiful, yet normal. Not anymore.

I would love to sit and watch the pageant with my girls. I did it once. We played "interview" during the commercials and video-taped their answers. I had them walk into the room and introduce themselves with a "one-liner" about their state. It was so much fun. Now, I hesitate to watch it with them because of the image it portrays as "ideal". I don't want my girls growing up focused on their body....focused on being "hot" or "sexy" because that is what is expected from the all-American girl.

I pray we can reclaim innocence, true beauty....loveliness......intelligence....things to be proud of. I fear it will only get worse. Come on, moms. Don't try to let your girls grow up too fast by wearing clothes that are so fashion-forward that they are immodest. Don't let them begin wearing make up so soon. They are beautiful young girls who are being led to believe by society that their appearance is flawed and not good enough. We need to stop talking about our weight and start talking about our health. Dads need to step in and reassure their daughters of their beauty....their natural beauty. They need to set the tone for their wardrobe by going shopping with their daughters. Fathers need to look their daughters in the eyes and tell them how beautiful they are.

So, my days of the annual Miss America event at home have come to an end. It makes me sad. I have such fond memories of it. I even had the Miss America Barbie doll! It was never about the body. It was always about poise, intelligence, and the talent. Why am I surprised when I look at society today. Magazines, clothes, commercials for lingerie during prime time television hours, and airbrushing being offered on your child's school pictures to "fix" their imperfections.

I will be on my knees a little longer tomorrow for my daughters.

Will you join me?

Be still

2011-12-22T06:19:00.000-08:00

One thing I have particularly enjoyed since I have been home this week is the opportunity to be still. I almost missed this opportunity by trying to fit in everything I needed to do before Christmas....including socialize with friends. Amidst the trips to Target and fighting traffic, I have taken time to be at home with a cup of coffee, my Bible, and the fireplace.

It amazes me how hard it is for people to be still. Even when we have the opportunity to sit still, we don't. We live in an electronic world that exists on sound bites. We Google what we want to know and as soon as we've read the part of the information that gives us the answer, we move on. We shuffle to our favorite song on our Ipod, listen to our favorite part, and then shuffle on to the next one. We change the channel on the TV every chance we get to see what might be better on another channel. We avoid live productions that we can't "mute" or "fast forward". We choose DVD's and sound bites so we can stop and start at will, rewind when we missed something because we were talking, and come back to it later when we feel like it.

I have tried an experiment in my classes this year. I have chosen a piece of choral music that lasts at least 3 1/2 minutes long. It seems that 2-3 minutes is the maximum amount of time people will sit without "needing" to make a comment, think about something else, get bored, make eye contact with another individual, or fidget. I will continue to play music for my students to practice the art of listening and being "in the moment". I don't really know how to fix this glaring problem. We can't take away progress and remove all their gadgets. Teachers feel so defeated at times that we lower our expectations because we feel people aren't capable of listening or that we won't be supported by parents.
Society makes excuses for people who won't listen by blaming the teacher for being boring, the subject matter for being outdated, the method of delivery for only reaching one type of learner, and the list goes on. I don't want to compete with gadgets and Hollywood style visuals. God gave us five senses. One of them is hearing. I don't want my children to only hear what they want to hear. I want them to learn to be still so they can hear the Lord. I know God is capable of piercing the noise and pushing His voice through the noise of the world. I don't know if He will always choose to do so. "Be still and know that I am God." If I don't learn to listen I will never hear my Shepherd's voice amid the noise and clamor. Just like we savor a yummy piece of cake or our favorite dessert to the very last morsel, we should be still and quiet long enough to taste the very last morsel that God has for us in a song, in a scripture passage, in the words of someone older, wiser, and slower, or in a story. It is important to remember that we have to learn to listen. I don't want to teach my children that it is the responsibility of others to entertain them and keep their attention. If they want to learn, they must choose to listen and learn. I want my children to be responsible for learning. I hope they will love learning and that those teaching them are passionate for their subjects, but I don't want them to expect entertainment. I want them to learn to listen......really listen.

Don't fill the silence. Oftentimes it is in the silence that God reveals Himself. It is also in the silence that our minds are allowed to process information. If we dump all the ingredients to make bread in a bowl and do not allow time for them to incorporate and blend evenly, our bread will not rise or bake correctly. Let's allow time for the ingredients of life to rise and blend.

Be still.
It's hard work, but will reap great results.

And the award goes to......everyone.

2011-12-21T12:54:00.000-08:00

It has been a very long time since I've written a blog post. There have been many times over the last several months that I have had thoughts of topics I would like to write about and then I would forget them. I always thought I should take time to jot my initial thought down to remind myself later, but life always got in the way. My job tends to run my day and my thoughts are usually put aside until another time....and then I can't remember what it was I was pondering. I don't even know if I would consider it "pondering". To ponder is to consider something deeply and thoroughly. The nature of my days have not allowed for deep or thorough thinking. My pondering begins and ends as a fleeting thought, much like a bubble that dissolves before you have a chance to even catch or pop it on your own. Over the last couple of days I have been on Christmas break and have found a few hours where my mind has been allowed to linger passed the fleeting thought and actually step into the land of pondering. It feels rather strange. I hope I am able to make sense.

One thing that has been on my mind lately is the idea of rewards and expectations. I was brought up to understand that there were things that were expected of me and it was my job to make sure I did those things. There would be no payment for following through with what was expected of me. It seems that over the years the idea that doing what is expected entitles people to being rewarded in some way. If you are on a recreational sports team you receive a medal or trophy at the end of the season for simply being on the team. Everyone gets an award. I remember receiving my very first trophy for actually being the sole winner for an event I was participating in. I was the only recipient of the award and it really meant something to me. I notice that when my children get medals for being on a team, they often get thrown in the corner, lost in the back seat of the car because they never made it out of the car in the first place. The award meant nothing to them. I receive a pay check every two weeks for doing my job. I don't get more money in a salaried job because I meet the expectations of my employer every day. Exceeding the expectations of my employer might result in a bonus at the end of the year, a promotion, or an award of some kind. If I do not meet the basic expectations of my employer I will, however receive a penalty, a reprimand, an infraction, a demotion, or lose my job completely. The "reward" for meeting expectations is knowing I am doing the right thing, doing my job well, and having a sense of peace. If I find I am not meeting expectations, my peaceful existence is interrupted by the need to do better, being reprimanded by my superior, stress, urgency, and if bad enough, the possibility that I may need to look for another job. Law enforcement does not reward me for driving the speed limit. The IRS does not reward me for paying my taxes. The power company does not give me more power for paying my bill on time.

I remember teaching at a school back in the early 90's. We had a new principal who was very big on self esteem and making sure every child felt important. A teacher was called to a meeting with the principal and a parent of one of her students over a math grade. The student earned a "D" on the report card. The parent was upset because their child received a D and they didn't understand why. The student seemed to know the material and did okay on tests. The teacher showed the parent and principal that the student had failed to complete the majority of their homework assignments, did average on tests, and did minimal work in the classroom. The principal began to question the teacher in front of the parent about the homework assignments. The teacher gave examples where the student was expected to complete 10 math problems for homework and had only attempted two or three. The principal told the teacher that if the student did two out of the ten problems assigned and did them correctly that she should award the student a grade of 100 on what they accomplished. The teacher was speechless. The principal made her change the grade. I'll never forget that day as long as I live. This particular teacher had been teaching for many more years than I had and she was completely baffled at the turn of events. The student continued to do less than what was expected in the classroom and as little as possible. I often wonder what became of him. During this same year one of the special area teachers decided to run a contest between all their classes to see who was on time, on task, in their seats, in attendance, stations cleaned, etc....and the winning class would hold the trophy for that month. Each month the class with the most points would hold the trophy. The same principal stopped the contest because it meant that there would be classes that did not have the trophy because they did not exceed the expectations. She was afraid this would damage their self esteem. I think that is when I really saw the shift in thinking, especially in education.

I pray that I never fall victim to this way of thinking in my own parenting. We might as well have no expectations and just allow people to do what they want to. No one wants expectations to be outlined for them, but they sure have their own set of expectations on what they should receive for doing any work at all.

Good and honest labor. Where did that idea go? I used to have to go out and pick up the rotten citrus that had fallen off the many trees in our backyard when I was a child. I can imagine the answer and reaction I would have received from my father had I told him how many pieces I had picked up and what I should receive for each one. I knew what I would receive if I didn't pick up the fruit!

Thank you for the privilege to live in peace when I do my work. Lord, help me reward when it's worthy, award when there is merit, and praise when praise is due.

Glitter and Glue

2011-08-05T05:41:00.000-07:00

When I was a little girl I loved the days my teacher would pull out the bottles of glitter for art projects. I remember one project in particular. We were to use our bottle of Elmer's Glue to make any design we wanted on the construction paper. We could write our name, draw a picture, or do any random design we wanted to. Such freedom! So many choices! I decided I was going to do as many swirls and loops as I could fit on the page. Then we were to take the glitter and sprinkle it all over our paper. We could use one color or mix them. There was gold, silver, red, blue and green glitter. So many choices! What was a girl to do? Use them all, of course! I began sprinkling each color at random all over my paper of glue swirls and by the time I finished it was covered in glitter and quite a mess......ugly actually. I looked at the girl's paper next to me and she had used only three colors of glitter and was very careful how she placed it. (The inside of her desk was also clean.) Oh well. What was done was done. I would just have to wait to see how mine would turn out. We were to wait until the Elmer's glue had time to dry. I was a little worried because I had used quite a bit of glue on my paper. Our teacher probably read us a book in another part of the room to distract us and get us away from our desks....but most likely this was after a bathroom break and a good hand washing. When the distraction period was over she sent us back to our desks to finish our masterpiece. We all patiently waited while the garbage can was brought around the room to each desk so we could dispose of our excess glitter. This is when the magic happened. As I let the glitter slide off the construction paper it revealed a beautifully designed masterpiece of swirls, loops and squiggles in beautiful colors. I was amazed!

I was praying the other morning on the way to work and asking God to order my steps. I have quite a bit on my mind and I am working on sifting through it all. I asked God to bring clarity to how to prioritize and see what was truly important. As I was praying, God reminded me that He has designed my life. He has a beautiful plan for me. I have to continually fix my eyes on Him in order to follow this plan. Oftentimes there are distractions along the way that get me off track. I am distracted by things that are more attractive......like the glitter bottles in all the colors of the rainbow! Sometimes by our own doing...and sometimes by life's circumstances we get our beautifully designed masterpiece of glue covered in so much glitter that we can no longer see the intended design. Life gets messy. As I continued to pray I asked the Lord to help me blow away the excess and unnecessary glitz and glitter and make clear what He wanted me to focus on and do. He allowed me to see that in doing this brings peace......His peace. God also showed me that as I begin to blow away the excess glitter around my life I am seeing how much time and effort has been wasted in things not of eternal value. What began as beautiful bottles of glitter in specific and intentional colors have become an unintentional and unidentifiable mess.

I am taking my paper to the garbage can and asking the Lord to help me blow away the excess. I want to see what is left behind. I know it will be beautiful.....and just the thought of that brings me peace.

"You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you."
Isaiah 26:3

The Death of Manners and Etiquette

2011-07-15T17:33:00.000-07:00

Over the last week I have traveled by plane and been in several situations where I have had many teachable moments with my children. We have had times to wait, times to be flexible, times to show kindness, and times to compromise. I think the thing that confuses me is that it seems that no one else in America is teaching or learning these important lessons. I don't mean to be pessimistic. Actually I am hoping that others feel the same way and that we can all ban together to have a resurgence of manners and etiquette and good old decency in our world....one family at a time.

While flying this past week, I had the pleasure of sitting in front of small children who kick the seat and are not taught that it is not good manners to do that. While pondering why their parents weren't putting a stop to it, the father proceeded to use the top back of my airline seat to brace himself each and every one of the billion times he needed to stand and stretch and sit back down again. When he finally got settled and comfortable he began his exercise routine of tapping his foot against the bottom bar of the seat. Suppose he was nervous? Stressed? I am sure he was. The father also allowed the child to take all the magazines and airline safety cards out of the seat back pockets over and over again as a game to occupy him, all the while I had the pleasure of having my seat pulled and knocked each and every time he opened and closed the pocket. I won't even mention the seat back trays. I figure you get the picture. Finally the sweet little angel settled down with his electronic device (that had never been turned off during take off) and began to play his game.....without earplugs. Loud rhythmic sounds in the background accompanied the shots from an animated gun that had high pitched shots and bombs. Ahhh, just what I wanted to hear as I tried to read. Getting off a plane is always an experience. People begin standing in the aisles in an attempt to jump ahead of anyone they can to get out as soon as possible. Can people not learn to be patient and wait until it is their turn to exit one row at a time off the aircraft? Wedding etiquette (which has also gone to pot) used to have ushers exiting each row one row at a time so there is not so much congestion at the door of the church. There ARE reasons for procedures and they are often times for order and efficiency. Moving on to the baggage claim area we found ourselves lining up for the long wait for the luggage to enter the claim area. I stood back about two or three feet from the moving belt in order to be able to see the luggage as it would come around the corner. A woman saw what she thought was an "opening" and jumped in front of me as quickly as she could and brought a horde of people with her. Everyone rushed to stand with their knees touching the belt so they could lean over and try to see the luggage. The teacher in me had to restrain myself from clapping my hands, snapping my fingers and instructing everyone:

"Stand back away from the belt so everyone will have a good view of the luggage. When you see your luggage step forward, claim it and move aside."

It was hard. I said it several times under my breath. To my disappointment it was a push and shove race to see who could grab their luggage first.

My children are far from perfect. My children have had their share of moments where I felt like I had no control. But it seems like more and more the control is falling into the hands of the children of America just like the Wii remote. The moments parents used to feel helpless are happening on a daily basis instead of being rare occurrences. Children today demand instant attention and results...and for some reason parents seem to feel as if it is their obligation to answer their every whim.

Manners and etiquette are good. Let's brush off our Emily Post books or look it up online for goodness sake.

Man your battle stations! This is war!

Can't put it down and can't pick it up!

2011-06-21T17:20:00.000-07:00

I have always loved to read. I love to go into a library and smell the books. I also love the smell of a bookstore. I don't always get to read during the school year as leisurely as I do during the summer, but I still try to always have a good book on my nightstand.

I have always had to be careful about reading. I tend to get very caught up in the stories and can't put them down. Good fiction, especially historical fiction, is one of my favorite types of entertainment. I get very involved in the story and the lives of the characters and feel as if I know each and every person in the story personally. I find myself mentally living there with them in the plot.

I recently went on a trip to the beach and bought a book for the trip that I have wanted to read for quite awhile. After the first chapter, I knew it was a good one. (I try to give a book three chapters before I toss it in the corner and give up.) I really enjoy reading at the beach because I don't feel guilty about reading the day away and even into the night.

The thing I dislike most about reading is when I read the last page. I often want the story to continue, which is why I love historical fiction books in a series. When the story is over in a series, there is usually another book waiting in the wings. Not in the case of the book I read on vacation. So, I headed to the bookstore with my discount card to buy me another book. I had a very hard time finding something I wanted to read, but made a selection anyway. I took the book home and it took me a couple of days before I could pick it up and get interested in starting another story. I was still "mourning" the loss of my new friends in the last book. I found myself wanting to know what happened to them. (Yes, I know.....they aren't real people! haha) I finally picked up the book and started it two nights ago. I couldn't even make it through the first three chapters. Every time I went to read I would read a few paragraphs and then put it back down again. It did not hold my interest. I ended up taking the book back and getting my money back. I looked again, but came home with nothing. I go through this pattern every time I read a really good book. After supper tonight, we stopped by another bookstore. A new sense of excitement filled me as I smelled the coffee and the books! The selections were much better and I found one by an author I've never read before. The caption on the front of the book by a critic said, "I read this book straight through." Ahhhh..... A book you can't put down. This book was written during the same historical period as the last book I read and so I picked it up and took it to the counter. The cashier was an older gentlemen who said, "My wife just finished this book and said it was even better than The Help by Katherine Stockard." Really? That was the book I had finished at the beach! It was meant to be. I look forward to reading The Dry Grass of August by Anna Jean Mayhew and will decide for myself. The title is so colorful and descriptive.

I will need to read quickly because my next choice is To Kill A Mockingbird. Classics should be read and read again. I wish all students looked at summer reading with such joy and pleasure. Thankfully my kids are readers and are now on book number two and three of several they will read this summer. We bought them book lights that lay over the page so they can read at night when it's cooler in their room with the lights out. Last night my youngest read for a long time down on the living room sofa with the lights out and the book light on because it was so cool downstairs. I love that! Today she finished Anne of Green Gables while I worked this morning at school. I was shocked. She read for two straight hours. Tonight she begins Mr. Poppers Penguins and has already finished Sign of the Beaver. My older daughter discovered the joy of reading in a chair on the beach. She was amazed at how all the noise of the world is drowned out by the roar of the ocean. She fell in love with reading on the beach. Too bad it didn't happen until the last day!

I may be wilted, but I'm not dead!

2011-06-07T08:19:00.000-07:00

I had a good chuckle over this today. This is probably the best visual of where I am physically, mentally and spiritually. I'm sure my husband is secretly chuckling to himself but for very different reasons....reasons that simply have to do with the fact I have never kept a plant alive----ever!

We were driving downtown the other night to my daughter's violin and piano recital when I suddenly GASPED in horror because I realized that I hadn't watered my tomato plant in days or maybe even over a week. This is quite a sore spot with my husband. Not the plant, but the GASPING in the car without warning. He suddenly thinks he's about to have a wreck or hit something he doesn't see, when all the while I'm just in my own world panicking over things I have forgotten to do or turn off. This is the story of my life. Things get so busy that being still for even a short ride in the car can cause me to literally come unglued because my mind will "rest" on all the "unrest" or "undone" tasks. I have been in bed recently and practiced breathing techniques I preach to my students all the time. I try to fill my lungs with oxygen in order to calm my mind and body. It hasn't been working. I don't sleep. I wake up frequently in the night. When I try to connect with God I feel like I can only get so far but my soil is never quite quenched. I watered this sad tomato plant this morning. I went back into the house to refill my watering can (...which I purchased brand new because I was going to become a master gardener). By the time I returned to the deck to water the other plants, my wilting plant was already dry again. I watered the other two plants and they looked satisfied. What was the problem? I remembered that I bought my plant with one green tomato on the vine. It came with the soil provided. The other two I planted myself in pots with organic soil that holds water for longer periods of time.

This is like our walk with the Lord. When we invest in things kingdom worthy we will not wither as fast when the storms come and the weather is unpredictable. But if we invest in things that do not satisfy us spiritually, eventually the soil will not be able to help us but for just a short while.

I read a quote by Robert J. Morgan recently. He said, "I have found that through scripture memory the incredible treasures of Scripture are not only just available to my mind, but they inform my whole being in a way that is a substantial testimony to the power of the Word of God." He also said this in regards to our minds: "A person's mind may be likened to a garden, which may be intelligently cultivated or allowed to run wild; but whether cultivated or neglected, it must, and will, bring forth. If no useful seeds are put into it, then an abundance of useless seeds will fall therein, and will continue to produce their kind."

So I will continue to rescue this plant with water. I will continue to breath in the scriptures and rescue my mind and heart from the overgrowth of the world.

Welcome summer. I have missed you.

My mind is so full it has gone blank...

2011-05-25T06:43:00.000-07:00

Today I feel like mush. Such an eloquent, sophisticated and descriptive word choice. I have so many things crammed into my mind right now that this morning I can't decipher any of them. Some word pictures that come to mind are

a backed up disposal needing desperately to be drained...the more you plunge and stir , the cloudier it becomes
a computer loaded with a lot of important information suddenly crashes and the screen is either frozen completely or blank....the dreaded black or blue screen...POOF! All info is gone!

I finally have a moment today to sift through my mess and I find myself unable to find anything. It's as if the laundry pile is so high and so mixed up that I will never find the matching socks. (sadly this is not only figurative, but literal) I keep trying to think...and I get confused. I don't know where to begin.

I think we all have experienced this more often that we would care to admit. I am afraid if I close my eyes and try to calm my mind with the intent of bringing clarity to the fog....I will simply fall ASLEEP!

I remember being in this place years ago when I was in my early twenties. I was hanging on by one frayed thread. I had not been still long enough to even attempt to find clarity. I was playing for a church service and the time came for the special music. The soloist was using a track and I made my way over to my little chair behind the piano where I sat during the sermon. I remember sitting there and holding on for dear life. She started to sing and these were the words to her song: (you can listen HERE to an arrangement by a choir that is quite lovely)

Rest, the Lord is near, refuse to fear, enjoy His love.
Trust, His mighty power fills every hour of all your days...
There is no need for needless worry, with such a Savior,
we have no cause to ever doubt,
His perfect Word still reassures in every trial.
Call Him if you grow frightened...call Him, with loving care,
He'll lift your burden and you'll rest, the Lord is near,
Refuse to fear, enjoy His love.

I wept. Literally wept. The sobs that make noise. Thankfully I could keep them quiet. I was having trouble catching my breath. Only one sweet friend saw me and came over to ask if I was okay after the service. Thankfully my release was not a distraction. It was however, unexpected.

Thankfully I am not in the weeping mood today...just cluttered and foggy.

I will have to start small.

One load of laundry, figuratively and literally.

If I can make that much room in my mind (and laundry baskets) I may be able to breathe a little easier and maybe, just maybe I'll find that missing sock.

So what is wrapped around YOUR vacuum cleaner brush?

2011-05-06T18:53:00.000-07:00

The house was quiet this evening. One daughter is on an overnight field trip and the other is at a skating party. I decided to do a little straightening and vacuuming. As I swept the upstairs hallway, I began noticing that the vacuum didn't seem to be picking up much dirt and dust. If fact, I don't think it was picking up anything at all. This has happened before, but after cleaning the dirt container it usually goes back to working normally. This time, that wasn't happening. I turned it off, sat on the floor and turned the vacuum over. I couldn't believe what I saw. I would post a picture but people would judge me, surely they would. The amount of "stuff" wrapped around my brush was so thick I couldn't see the brush! I was so embarrassed....and there was no one home to see it! I didn't even want the cat to look. After a half hour of tedious operating, my brush looks like new.

This got me to thinking about how hard we work at cleaning up the messes in our lives. We work very hard to keep things in our lives looking neat and put together. There's really nothing wrong with that. We want order, happiness and calmness. When things get "messy"at home or at work we quickly act to clean things up so all will be well again. No one likes to live in a mess or chaos. The problem is that we are so busy cleaning up the messes around us that we forget that all the dirt and grunge has to go somewhere. Before long, we are unable to really clean things up because we haven't properly disposed of the grime and trash. Cleansing is as important as the cleaning process. It would be like scrubbing toilets and never washing your hands afterwards. My vacuum cleaner brush was a wonderful visual for me. My vacuum had worked hard to clean up my messes...but I forgot to clean and take care of the "cleaner". We have to let things go. Put them to rest. Bury the mess. Forget it and move on. I've had many messes in my life that I have replayed over and over again.....knowing they were all cleaned up.....but for some reason I kept revisiting them. I am learning to let them go, forgive, put them to rest, and start with a clean vacuum.

Black (not brown) Thumb

2011-04-20T12:58:00.000-07:00

I bought a tomato plant today. This may not seem like a big deal, but it is to me. I can't grow anything except mold....and I can do that without even trying. So today, on a whim, I stopped in the hardware store and they had some tomato plants. As the girls and I made our way to the car with the fragrant tomato plant, we started talking about growing vegetables. Before we'd even made it out of the parking lot, the girls had already decided we should grow peppers, lettuce, beans, and they got all excited planning where they might be able to put this magnificent garden in our uneven backyard. I looked at them and said, "Let's just see if I can keep this one little tomato plant alive." They laughed the rest of the way home, agreeing that was the best plan. They told me they would help me keep it alive. My husband has his doubts. It was written all over his face when he came home at lunchtime to the excited squeals of the girls announcing that "MOMMY BOUGHT A TOMATO PLANT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH" Yes, the announcement was followed by much mockery and laughter. I'll show them. I think I'll charge them for the tomatoes.

I have enjoyed the last few days of this much needed spring break. Tonight I have a homemade soup cooking. It's chicken, zucchini, spinach, carrots, and onions. I feel so domestic and relaxed. My washing machine is humming happily. (It ought to...it's brand new. The old one died....twice.)
The girls are happily playing and GETTING ALONG. Of course if they don't they have horrible punishments like cleaning the kitchen or doing chores while linking arms and staying glued together. It makes life interesting.

Signs of Spring

2011-04-06T09:10:00.000-07:00

Weary.
I am weary of the constant weather roller-coaster. One day the sun shines warmth and our steps are a little lighter...only to wake up to cold winds and cold temperatures chilling us to the bone once again. I know we need the rain. I actually love the rain. I think it is when it is mixed with the cold and bitter winds with a day of sun and warmth thrown in to tease us that it makes me sad.

I love teaching. But right now I am weary from the pace that we have to keep as teachers during the day. We are expected to be "up" and "happy" and "engaging" and "alert".....all the while our sweet charges are sleepy, tired, daydreaming, and generally not interested because they need a break so desperately. Believe me.....teachers understand. Underneath our smiles and Energizer Bunny costumes we are weary, too.

Last night the storms were fierce. My husband and I woke up in the middle of the night to the flashes of lightening and very high winds. We did not sleep until it passed. It rained all the way to school this morning. By lunchtime as I came out of a long meeting I saw the sun had come out and it was a gorgeous day. Still cold....still windy....but beautiful. I had to run to the store during lunch to pick up some treats for my sixth graders. As I was driving to the store I had an overwhelming sense of Christ's presence as I looked around me at the beautiful dogwoods. When I lived in Florida it was the pine tree crosses. Now that I am in North Carolina it is the dogwood blossoms. There is something about coming out of a long period of cold, cloudy, and dreary days and having a glimpse of the coming of Spring that makes me think of Christ's death and Resurrection. I remember when I lived in Florida I was always amazed that the pine trees did not bloom until Easter. It was if they knew and were celebrating the risen Savior along with believers.

Here in North Carolina it is the dogwoods. If you aren't familiar with the legend of the dogwood trees you can read about it here. My weariness at this time has had the added weight of our spring break not coming until almost the end of the school year. Most schools' breaks will have come and gone a month before we will have ours. So as I look around at the hints of spring in the dogwoods, I long to be with my Savior. I long to be near Him and thank Him for all he has done for me. I am confronted with my own lack of worthiness. I am lacking in so many areas. I long to stop the roller coaster and sit in the Son. The cold and dreariness has over stayed it's welcome and I long for the warmth of my Savior on my face and in my heart.

One of my favorite songs is about the dogwoods and the promise of redemption and cleansing.
The lyrics are printed below. If you click on the title you can hear it.

Dogwood's A' Bloomin'

The dogwoods a’bloomin’,
Oh hush, little one
The winter is over
The warm winds have come
The bud on the maple is tender and green
The hope the Savior is risen with spring

The dogwoods a'bloomin' perfume in the air
Stirrin’ the warm bed of the sleepy old bear
Can he hear the rhythm, the drums on the wind?
The heart of the Savior, is beating again.

The dogwoods a'bloomin; with blossoms of white
Dressin' the dark wood with innocent light
Tellin’ the secret it wants us to know
The sins that were scarlet are whiter than snow.

Come spring. Please come quickly.

Trash Talk

2011-03-30T07:07:00.000-07:00

I have been sick. Some nasty stomach virus. Yesterday I stayed on the sofa all day. Television did not interest me. I tried to watch a movie, but could not focus. I have some really intense books on my reading list right now, and yesterday was not the day to try and focus on those. I did some praying. It was quiet in my house and the fireplace was on. I have a novel that I have been wanting to read for awhile but have been quite busy. I brought it downstairs and read most of the day between cat naps and sips of ginger ale.

One of the story lines in the novel is dealing with one sibling in a family of four children. The children live in very meager conditions and work very hard. Very hard. The responsibilities that they take on are more rigorous than most adults are used to today. I got to thinking about this a lot yesterday. It is amazing how much thinking I was able to do while I was on the sofa. I realized it has been a long time since I have been able to sit in the quiet and have time to really let my mind wander. Most of the time my mind is running. In the middle of the night Monday night I woke my husband up to tell him that I was not going to be able to go to work and needed to go through "the plan" that would have to take place. There were many details that needed tending to and he would have to pinch hit for me. I had already run through this plan in my mind as I tossed and turned. At this point it was very important that I go over the plan with him. It was about 3:30 in the morning and he was sweet enough to listen to me go through the many details that I needed to unload off my mind in order to attempt to rest.

As I rested on the sofa by the fire, my mind was able to wander. My thoughts were able to stop and linger awhile in places before moving on. It had been so long since I was able to allow my mind to take a leisure stroll and enjoy the places I discovered and ponder on those that bothered me. We live in a very noisy world. Rarely do we get alone and quiet.

One of the places where I chose to linger was on this idea of hard, honest work. Those who came before us lived simple, yet difficult lives. The difficulties were in their struggles and physical labors. What we consider normal, they would never have seen in their lifetimes----running water, heating and cooling systems, gas stoves, refrigerators, washing machines, cell phones, etc... We have always required our children to do chores around our house. There are many chores that children younger than mine were required to do on farms and in their homes that people today would consider harsh. They didn't work all day, but they were expected to do their share and learn responsibility. The children and adults also walked miles to places they needed to go. Children were sent to school and would walk two miles to school and two miles home.....even in heavy rain or snow.

My children have told me that some of their friends don't have chores. Now I realize that most likely this is not true, yet there may be some who don't. When I look around at the floors at school and the trash that gets thrown on the ground without a second thought it makes we wonder. We all go through times where our children are not so pleasant in their responses. Sassiness and disrespect is found in all of us. The very thought that being asked to do a little work brings an immediate reaction of irritation shows us how sinful we are.

The students at my school have been asked to do some chores recently. The lunchroom has been quite messy after lunch. Trash isn't making it to the trash can. The hallways have been less than tidy with items that would make you throw your hands out with huge question marks in each. Why would one put an orange on the floor of the hallway, stomp on it to see how flat they can make it....and then just leave it there.....for someone else to clean up? Some people laugh and say...."Oh, that is just kids for you." I beg to differ. On any given day I can look up and down the hallway and see things that never make it to the trash can. Instead, they are just thrown on the ground...because "someone" will pick it up. "Someone" who gets paid to do that. A friend recently told me that some of the students are not happy with having to wipe down tables after lunch and pick up trash. One of the kids said that there are adults who get paid to do that and the students shouldn't have to. Where did this attitude and thinking come from? Are we really teaching our students that it is another person's job to pick up their trash? Sure, we have paid personnel who clean and maintain our facilities. We have teachers and assistants who are paid to look after the kids and supervise them for their safety and well being. But to pick up the trash that they deliberately threw on the ground or left on the table? Somewhere we as parents are missing the mark. We often complain and gripe about the things left out and not put away, the dishes that never made it to the sink, the clothes that never made it to the hamper...and then we pick them up and do it ourselves to save time...all the while grumbling and complaining. We could take this one step further and say that often we teach our children to clean up after themselves. The message that they are learning is to clean up only what mess they know is theirs and leave the rest....after all...they didn't make it. I am guilty of this, too. If we are honest, we all are.

When I was in middle school, I remember being assigned a table at lunch. I was even assigned a seat at that table. We were to eat quietly and wait for our turn to take and clean our trays or throw away our trash. We then returned to our assigned table and seat and could talk quietly for the remainder of the lunch period. We did not go outside. We stayed inside the lunchroom and waited for the bell. Then the assigned student would wipe the table down. I remember taking our trays to the lunchroom ladies and being sent back to the trash bins because we did not scrape them clean enough before turning them in to be washed.

So back to the idea of hard work. The idea of learning what it takes to maintain a home needs to be learned by our children at an early age. Respect and positive attitudes will spill over into school and other places without us even trying.....if we do it right at home. It all starts in the home.
Let's get out our chore lists and evaluate whether or not they are sufficient. Saturday can't get here fast enough. Hmmmm......why wait until Saturday?

Arrogance

2011-03-23T14:53:00.000-07:00

arrogance [ar-uh-guhns]  –noun
offensive display of superiority or self-importance; overbearing pride

Arrogance makes me sad. When I hear or see quiet or deliberate displays of arrogance, my mind immediately quotes the psalmist:

"When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
what is man that you are mindful of him" (Psalm 8)

I also think of God's answer to Job:

"Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?
   Tell me, if you have understanding.
Who determined its measurements—surely you know!
   Or who stretched the line upon it?
On what were its bases sunk,
   or who laid its cornerstone,
when the morning stars  sang together
   and all the sons of God shouted for joy?" (Job 38)

This chapter is very sobering. It also makes me love God more. He is GOD.
Who Am I? I am nothing, yet He created me and knows my name...and even loves me. There is a song that reflects these humbling thoughts. The lyrics are,

"Over time You've healed so much in me and I am living proof

That although my darkest hour had come
Your light could still shine through
Though at times it's just enough to cast a shadow on the wall
Well I am grateful that You shine a light on me at all

Who am I that You would love me so gently?
Who am I that You would recognize my name?
Lord, who am I that You would speak to me so softly?
Conversation with the love most high, who am I?"

Paul says, "This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief ."—I Tim. 1:15.

The problem today is that people do not choose to recognize sin unless it is an extreme evil or a "socially acceptable evil". Even in these cases, many try to blame their actions on "insanity", "mental illness", their poor childhood, their financial ruin, and anything else that can exonerate them. Few accept responsibility for their actions because they do not consider them wrong in the first place.

One thing I have noticed growing more prevalent today is how people feel entitled to everything. There is such a sense of selfishness in the world. It causes people to elevate themselves above anyone that doesn't agree with them. Many times Christians are the ones who are singled out as having this "issue". People say that Christians think that everyone who disagrees with them is wrong. If others do not agree that the Bible is the True, inerrant Word of God, they bash Christians who do. Not all Christians are saying that other people need to agree with them, but are saying that others should agree with God's Word.  Another argument is that the Bible is open to individual interpretation. I disagree. The Bible clearly states,

“The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God.  For who among men knows the thoughts of a man except the man’s spirit within him? In the same way no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God. We have not received the spirit of the world but the Spirit who is from God, that we may understand what God has freely given us. This is what we speak, not in words taught us by human wisdom but in words taught by the Spirit, expressing spiritual truths in spiritual words. The man without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him, and he cannot understand them, because they are spiritually discerned.” 1 Corinthians 2:10-14. There is no understanding apart from the Holy Spirit!

“To God, who alone is wise, be the glory forever through Jesus Christ.”

Romans 16:27.

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding.” --Proverbs 9:10.

“The fear of the Lord teaches a man wisdom, and humility comes before honor.”

Proverbs 15:33.

“I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you and watch over you.” Psalms 32:8.

“I am the Lord your God, who teaches what is best for you, who directs you in the way

you should go.” ---Isaiah 48:17.

Sadly, when God's Word does not line up with what certain people believe, then the Bible simply becomes any other book in their minds----not Truth. So if the Word of God is not TRUTH, then where is Truth? From what source does one measure decisions and beliefs? You will most likely find them measuring "truth" according to their own beliefs and thoughts. I find that scary and arrogant.

Today I have been overwhelmed and burdened by this. The arrogance and self-centeredness of society causes me to wonder how bad things are going to get in the future. We were never promised an easy road---a road without bumps and opposition. I believe the opposition to our God and His Word are on the rise. Are we ready to defend the Word and uphold the Truth?

Someone said recently that Truth, Goodness and Beauty were once believed to be objective and measurable. They are measured by God's standards. Beauty was the first to go, Goodness followed, and now "truth" has become relative and all three are now very subjective in the eyes and minds of mainstream society.

I have peace and confidence knowing that I have something by which to measure my decisions and choices. I have God's Word---TRUTH. I have God's Word and standards--Beauty. I have God, Himself---Goodness. I don't want the responsibility of defining Truth. It has already been done for me. I would fail miserably because I am a sinful human being.

Our sinfulness causes arrogance. The further away we are from God and Truth, the more arrogant we become. Arrogance doesn't always perform loudly....sometimes quiet arrogance is just as bad. Cynicism is also running wild today and is a direct result of people not believing in Truth as God defines it.

It is my prayer that people will stop searching the internet for any "source" that backs up their own beliefs--beliefs that change as quickly as the direction the wind blows.

As my pastor quotes weekly, "The grass withers and the flowers fall,

but the word of our God endures forever." (Isaiah 40:8)

Teaching an old dog new tricks....

2011-02-16T09:11:00.000-08:00

Humans could learn a few lessons from the life of a dog. This morning I stopped in the grocery store to grab some contact solution. As I was coming out of the store I saw people rushing from place to place, probably like me---hurrying to work. I looked up to see a man and his "best friend" taking a morning stroll in front of the grocery store. The man had his head down and was really not "strolling", but rather walking briskly. The dog, however, had other things on his mind. He was taking in his surroundings......sniffing the scents of the world.....perking his ears to every sound around him....and totally enjoying his time outside on such a beautiful morning. The minute he saw me, his head turned, and he smiled....at least that is what it looked like to me.....and in his own way said, "Good morning!". He really wanted to stop and visit, but his owner was in a hurry. The dog didn't know me, yet he wasn't overly cautious and shy. He also didn't keep his head down and keep walking. I am guilty of that. Not always. There are days when I long for smiles and interaction with others and therefore I speak quickly and smile earnestly. Often I am rushing from point A to point B and don't take time to "sniff" and "listen". Most dogs have never met a stranger. They want nothing more than to spend time with humans and be petted and loved. Of course, there are a few with some psychological issues.....moody.....stubborn......and high maintenance. Generally, dogs are friendly. Like humans, if they have been mistreated and abused they either retreat or lash out in anger and aggression. The lesson that I seem to learn from dogs is that no matter what they seem to keep coming back to love and be loved.....and most often, they are the initiator of the relationship. They are the "giver" and we are the "receiver". Sure, we feed them and offer them shelter, but, even when we aren't as attentive as we should be, they still want to give us attention. We could really learn a lesson from that attitude. People in our lives are going to disappoint us, neglect us, treat us unkindly, abuse us, forget about us, ignore us, and yet we should still love others. The scriptures are very specific in their teachings about loving others. Nowhere does it say, "Love others if they love you." Instead, the scriptures say over and over again.....

John 13:34
“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another."

John 13:35
"By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

Romans 12:10
Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves"

Galatians 5:13
"You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh ; rather, serve one another humbly in love."

Ephesians 4:2
"Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love."

Hebrews 10:24
"And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds..."

So, let's lift up our heads and greet one another along the way. Let's speak to strangers. Let's smell the beautiful scents around us. Let's listen to one another without thinking about what we are going to say next. Let's smile at others. Let's call people we know by name. Let's stroll, not hurry.

Let's be man's best friend.

Sitting Near the Son

2011-02-10T14:23:00.000-08:00

My sweet Lucy-girl is about to be 14 years old. I'll never forget the day we brought her home. We had moved into a new rental house in Florida and decided to get two cats so they could keep each other company. We went to the Humane Society and were overwhelmed at the number of cats and kittens on hand. It was filthy and sad. This was a couple of years before the Humane Society had new management and better facilities and care. We stepped into the kitten and small cat cage and were immediately mobbed by cats. One was climbing up the side of the cage (made like a chain fence) and when he was up far enough he leaped across the cage and landed on my back! He acted possessed. I did not want to take him home. I had always wanted a large, fat cat. I looked for the biggest kitten I could find. He was yellow and quite fluffy. I had one picked out...all I had to do was find the second one to be his friend. I found a beautiful large smokey gray kitten. I really wanted that one, but every time I tried to pet him he hissed at me. I just didn't think he was very friendly. Every time I went to pick up another cat I saw this very tiny kitten sitting at my feet. She was skinny, didn't have much hair, and was every color in the book. She wasn't much to look at. I continued looking for another beautiful cat, and it seemed they were ALL possessed. I've never seen so much hissing and jumping all over the place. All the while, the skinny little kitten was sitting at my feet. She didn't make any noise and she didn't try to scratch or hiss at me. Something told me I needed to take her home because no one else would. That is the story of how we came to have Linus (fat cat) and Lucy (skinny cat).

We took them home and let them loose to roam in the house. Over the next couple of days we noticed that Lucy was acting like she was sick. She wouldn't eat, was sneezing quite a bit, and didn't stay awake very long. It was summertime, and she always seemed cold. There were several skylights in our Florida home and she would find the spot on the carpet that had a square of sunshine from the skylight and sit there. When the square of light moved, so did she. She has always followed whatever patch of sunshine she could find. It could be hot as blue blazes outside and Lucy will find the sunshine spot coming in through the window and sit in the ray of sunshine. This morning I found her behind the blinds on my bathroom window sill....the only place in the bathroom with any warmth of sunlight. As I was putting on my make up I was thinking about her finding the sun wherever it is. God spoke to my heart and reminded me that He wants me to seek Him like that. He wants me to follow him wherever He is. He wants me to seek Him out and be near Him all the time. Such a simple lesson, but one one that has stayed with me all day. I am so glad that my God speaks to me in the simple things. I reminds me that He is with me all the time and wants to communicate with me on a very personal level all throughout my day....even during the mundane tasks and daily routines.

Lucy reminds me to "sit near the Son" and follow Him all throughout the day....wherever He moves.

I'd like to take a mulberry

2011-02-05T19:14:00.000-08:00

Years ago (PK--pre-kids) I took up learning to play golf. I really enjoyed it. I got pregnant shortly after I started learning. I took a lesson or two from a lady pro at one of the local golf clubs where we were living in Florida. The first time I played an entire round of golf was in a real golf tournament! Talk about just diving in the deep end! Thank goodness it was a "best ball" tournament. It was quite fun. The funny thing was I was quite pregnant during my days of learning to play and I had to learn to maneuver my stomach. One day while I was out playing 9 holes with my husband one evening, I missed my shot pretty badly. Wanting to show him that I understood the game and "lingo" I told him I would just take a mulberry. He stopped and looked at me (I suppose to see if I was serious...which I was!) and then started shaking his head and laughing. He then proceeded to let me know that the correct term was "mulligan".

Today was one of those days that you really wish you could call on a mulligan and get a complete "do over". I went to work yesterday with a headache. I did everything I could to be cautious and take something before it got worse, but it didn't make any difference. It got worse as the day went on. By the time the work day was complete I was a wreck. We went out to dinner and I came home and crashed. I went to sleep and had a very restless night. I kept waking up due to the headache. I slept a little later this morning hoping it would help, and woke up to find it was not gone. It continued ALL DAY . I did a load or two of laundry and hemmed some pants, but did not accomplish much else today. It is now 10:00pm and my headache is finally gone! I am so happy. But, I would really like a do-over. The one day to enjoy my family and get some things done at home.......gone. Another treasured Saturday eaten up by a horrible headache.

I am thankful I had today to rest and try to nurse the headache away. The selfish part of me wishes I could get the day back. There was nothing I could have done to change the fact that I have had a headache for two days. It is what it is. It does make me think about all the days that I would like to do over due to my own sinfulness. I am so thankful that God's mercies are new EVERY morning. We are truly fortunate and blessed to have a God who allows us to begin again.....every day....with a clean heart, a clean slate, and a fresh perspective.

I guess instead of whining about losing today, I will look forward to tomorrow.
Great is His faithfulness.

And...I think "mulberry" is a nicer term than "mulligan".

The Window to the Soul

2011-02-02T19:05:00.000-08:00

"The eyes are the window to the soul."   This statement is so true. It was so true today. I looked into the eyes of someone and what I read there was loneliness and confusion.   I also saw someone who had been wounded and was weary. Yet, as I looked again I saw a glimpse of joy...a small fleck, but there nonetheless. I think I know what brought about the sense of joy, and I hope that it was enough to light a flame that will continue to burn away the other things I saw in those eyes.

The human heart and soul has a depth like nothing I've ever known. God's ability to stretch and fill that space is miraculous and the fact that we can't really "see" the soul makes it even more miraculous. Looking into a person's eyes can be proof enough there is a soul. I was jolted by the fragility of it today. It is hard to explain. We can be tough and quite good at masking emotions and feelings, but it's quite difficult to really mask what is in your soul. The eyes can show the loss of innocence. They can show love, fear, joy, and sorrow.

Years ago I had a "fever of unknown origin". The doctors had no idea what was causing it. I saw two different doctors and each ran every test they knew to run. The last doctor I saw read my blood work results and sat there baffled. I had been running a 101 degree fever for over two weeks.   My husband had taken a job in another state and had to move ahead of me, I was caring for a newborn baby, working full time and pregnant with number two on the way. The fever was posing quite a problem because I was unable to take medication and therefore quite miserable. The tests showed nothing. I remember my doctor putting down my file and walking over to the exam table and standing in front of me with his hands on my shoulders he stared into my eyes for what seemed like an eternity. He quietly told me to be very still and let him "look" at me. He was looking into the one place he thought he might find the answer he was looking for....my eyes.
I remember thinking that no doctor had ever taken the time to really look at me that way. I honestly think he was one of the rare physicians who believes that not everything can be medically explained by science. There are sometimes you need to resort to looking into the eyes of someone and trying to "see" what is underneath.

I've only had one other similar experience with a physician over the years. Sadly, many are so overworked and overscheduled that they don't have time to listen to their patients, much less look into their eyes. Those two times I felt as if a doctor really wanted to find out exactly what was causing my physical issue.   They treated me as a whole person...knowing that sometimes there are other issues that are present that are causing physical reactions. Emotions? Stress?

So "the eyes have it". A play on words, yes. I should say it "hit me between the eyes" today as I saw the eyes of another. I pray that God will allow me to slow down long enough to really see others.

As The Washer Turns

2011-01-31T10:51:00.000-08:00

There is something soothing about the sound of my washing machine. I love the constant hum of the washer as it turns and spins. Saturday I was extremely tired and decided to take a nap. The washer was running and I remember slipping off to sleep so easily....comforted by the fact that even though I slept, progress was under way in the laundry/house keeping department. Chuckle if you must.

I am home today with a sick child. I hate it when my children are sick. I am glad to be here with her, though. She is quiet and in need of some TLC as well as liquids and lots of rest. I love tucking the blanket under her feet and making her feel cozy. She is eating grits (as every good southerner should). The warmth is good on her throat, as well as the texture that will help the discomfort in her throat also. Soup is good, grits are better. A nap for her is just on the horizon.

The washer going is a great kind of quiet for me. Total quiet is almost loud. I hear more things in the total silence that distract me. The silence of white noise allows my mind to concentrate, pray, think, read, and of course nap when necessary. My dad often talked about working third shift at Goodyear Tire plant years ago while he was in school. He would come home in the early morning and go to sleep to the sound of the vaccum cleaner. I don't have the same affection for the vaccum cleaner as my dad does. I associate the vaccum cleaner with unrest. When I was a teenager and sleeping late on Saturdays, my mother would often wake me up by running the vaccum cleaner outside my bedroom door. If that didn't work, she would hit the door with the front of the vaccum....eventually making her way into my bedroom and vaccuming right there while I tried to sleep in peace. Hahaha! Someone vaccuming means I'm not up working and therefore I feel guilty. So, I don't like the vaccum cleaner noise.

Today has been quiet. I've done some work, planned some meals, given medicine, fixed lots of hot tea and sick foods and loved my girl. Looks like we may be doing this again tomorrow.

Well, the washer has stopped. I must go start it again.

A Blessing Beyond the Wall

2011-01-26T19:12:00.000-08:00

This morning I was listening to the morning announcements and heard that there would be a time of worship during the high school lunch time. They also announced that it would be in my room. Surprise! I had no idea....not that I minded, but I was very surprised. I had no idea who organized the lunchtime worship. The day progressed and I forgot about it. Lunchtime rolled around and I went to my office to check email and eat a quick sandwich before the rest of the day descended upon me. I finished returning some emails and then got my lunch bag out to eat. It was then that heard the sounds of the piano coming from my choir
room through the wall. I knew the tune. I knew the words. All of them. A few minutes later, I heard the singing.

"This is my story, this is my song, praising my Savior all the day long!
This is my story, this is my song, praising my Savior all the day long!"

Really? Were my ears deceiving me? I was transported back to a place in my life where I found such joy. Singing hymns in church as a child is one of my most vivid and precious memories. It is these same songs I sang while rocking my children to sleep. It is these songs that I sing when I'm in quiet time with my Lord. These are the same songs that many teenagers (and adults) have never heard.

I got up from my desk and walked down the hall. I didn't know who was in my room or how many I would find, but the sounds coming through the wall were beckoning me to come.

"Perfect submission, all is at rest,
I in my Savior am happy and blessed;
Watching and waiting, looking above,
Filled with His goodness lost in His love.
This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Savior all the day long;
This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Savior all the day long."

The honesty and adoration I heard in the voices of the ten high school students in the room touched me deeply. I worshipped with them.  I could not hold back the tears. I listened to them read scripture and then I slipped out the door.  This was their time, and I did not want to intrude. I don't think they would have thought my being there an intrusion, but I still wanted to give them their space, their independence, and their sweet time of fellowship with their God and their peers.

Before I left, a couple more students came in. One slipped in quietly.  The other student looked a little uncomfortable and said (out loud), "I really don't think this is where I want to be right now."

As I slipped out the door I thought to myself, "But this is exactly where you need to be."

The walls in my modular are thin. Many times this is irritating and makes teaching difficult for all of us out there.   Today.....those thin walls were a blessing.

Blessed assurance! Jesus is mine.....and theirs.

Lolly

2011-01-19T18:03:00.000-08:00

Meet Lolly. I assume most children have a special "friend". No bedtime is complete without this friend by their side, comforting and soothing them to sleep. This friend gets dragged through the house, taken on sleepovers, packed in suitcases for vacation and ride-a-longs in the car. Sometimes nothing can make a child stop crying except their special "friend".

Ms. Lynda gave Janey her special friend before she was born. This little cloth doll was waiting on Janey when she came home from the hospital. We called her Janey's "dolly".

"Where's your dolly?"
"Can you find your dolly?"
"I'm gonna get your dolly!"

When Janey started talking she tried to say "dolly" and it came out "lolly". Once she started talking, she called her doll "Lolly" and has ever since. I am sure every mother out there knows the lengths you will go to sneaking in your child's room to find the special friend in order to wash them. As Janey got older I would have her help me wash Lolly. She would put the soap in the washer and turn it on the delicate cycle. She would patiently wait for Lolly to finish washing and then she would place her gently in the dryer and once again wait until she was clean and dry. Then.....all was right in her world.

As Lolly got older, she lost her plumpness. She also lost the cute yarn tassel on the top of her head. Janey used to carry her around by the yarn. My mother found another doll just like Lolly and gave her to Janey. We thought she might like to "swap her out". That suggestion didn't fly. So Lolly now has a nice, new, plump friend named "Molly".

Tonight, I found Lolly on my bed. Apparently Janey brought her in when she came up for bed.
How do you resist a well planned out request? Not many mothers can. So, out came my sewing basket, needle and thread. I mean, the child even provided the stuffing! So, Lolly is now a little more plump than she was yesterday. I have to close now and go and reunite Lolly with Janey.

Oh....my friend's name was Leo. Leo the Lion.

Finding my balance

2011-01-15T09:19:00.000-08:00

Last night I found myself off balance. My children were invited to a sleepover and that left the evening free for my husband me to go on a date. My days are quite noisy. I work in a school full of wonderful, energetic, smart, and noisy students. I have grown quite tolerable of the noise level that a school brings, though I find myself longing for quiet every now and then. Yesterday afternoon my children came to bring me their backpacks and school treasures and exchange them for their sleepover bags. They were so excited as they skipped along with their friends for their evening of fun. I went back to my classroom and cleaned up from the chaos of the day, did a few things that needed attending to prior to the weekend and week ahead, and then gathered my bags and coat to head home. My husband was going to try and come home early because he had been in meetings all day every day this past week and was quite tired. As I walked to the car, I stopped. I looked to see that I had all my bags, coat, keys, computer, the cord---which I often forget, and then started toward the car again. What did I forget? I walked slowly to the car because I knew I was going to remember and turn around and have to go back. As I reached the car and began to load my items in the back it dawned on me what my problem was. My children were missing! The constant babble and chatter, the tons of book bags, lunchboxes, violin, music books and coats weren't there to load. It felt very odd. Almost unsettling. I drove home in silence. That in and of itself is a beautiful thing on any given day, yet specifically on a Friday afternoon after a week of school it was so strange. I arrived home to find my cat sitting at her food bowl giving me "what for" about it being empty. She weighs less than 6 pounds soaking wet and yet she gets very feisty when her bowl is empty. I fixed her some supper and then my husband came in. He had a little bit of work to finish upstairs on the computer so I went downstairs to catch my breath. I sat on the sofa and closed my eyes for a minute. After sitting there for a few minutes I heard the strangest sound. I sat their trying to figure it out. Was it dripping? Was it tapping? After several minutes of pondering what this unusual sound was, I figured it out. It was the paws of my cat walking across the floor!!!! The house was so quiet I could hear the cat walking across the floor. My husband finished his work about an hour later and we went to dinner. We had the best time. We walked right into P.F. Chang's. That was a first. Tables for two are easier to come by, I suppose. We talked and had the most tasty dinner. Afterwards we went to REI to find me some snow boots. Everyone is sold out of snow boots. I neglected to get myself some when they first came out. So we ordered them at the store to be shipped to the house.....for the next time it snows. (Now that I have boots, it won't snow!) After that we did a bit more looking around and then we headed home. We got in our warm p.j.'s and settled in for some TV. We had a very nice evening and enjoyed each other's company so much. It was very restful.

I still missed my children. I told my husband that I really like the feeling of everyone under my roof and that I feel strange when the kids are gone. I asked him if he felt "lost" as well. He said, "no...it must be a mother thing." haha Don't get me wrong, he loves his girls! I do, however think that it is "a mother thing" as he put it.

I went to bed and slept until 8:00! We had coffee and breakfast together before he set out to pick up the girls and the three of them took our dear 14 year old friend, Lucy to the vet. She weighs 5 lbs 13 oz...same as last year. She eats. She is playful. She is cuddly. She's just very very small. Even her "meow" is small.

So thankful for a restful night with my husband. It was quiet. It was needed. It was strange. It was a glimpse into the future when we are "empty-nesters". I am so glad I am married to my best friend.
I am glad my children are home. I am also glad they have sweet friends to spend the night with.
I know that others are experiencing the incredible emptiness of children growing up and moving away. I know that I have more years to look forward to. I plan to cherish this time.

One is playing. One is asleep. Husband is studying. Washing machine is humming. All is well. All is well.

"Bee Bee" and "B"

2011-01-13T14:35:00.000-08:00

Mrs. Bible's "Kitty Cat" stitch afghan. A cherished wedding gift.

My BeeBee's afghan. A cherished heirloom.

Both these blankets are cherished items in my house. The first blanket is on my bed almost year-round, especially during the fall and winter. I use it on my side of the bed on top of my comforter at night. It is so soft and warm. It is also a fabulous nap blanket! Mrs. Helen Bible, "B" to her family, made this for me for a wedding gift. "B" was my first grade Sunday School teacher and a faithful Vacation Bible School teacher in our church for years. When I got to be a teenager, I helped her in VBS in the summers also. She was a nurse during her working years and traveled as our nurse on church trips after she retired. She lived with her son and his family in town and was loved by all who knew her. This blanket has a unique stitch called the "kitty cat stitch". If you look closely at the blanket you can see each color row looks like a row of cats sitting with their tales hanging down.

The second afghan was made by my maternal grandmother. Pearl Story Parrish was a wife and mother of three. My mother was her middle child. She had many talents, one of which was crocheting. She baked cakes all the time for her friends. She always had a fresh cake on the table. She also made jewelry. This blanket has special memories to me. I grew up in Florida and where cold weather isn't very common. There were a few weeks in the winter time where the temperature would dip low enough to actually turn the heater on in the house. It would come on and we would smell it. It rarely ran, so when my parents would turn it on to "knock the chill off" it would smell for a few minutes. I remember my mother coming in my room in the middle of the night to put this blanket on me to keep me warm on those few cold nights. It is very heavy. She would lay it on me and I would feel it drop on me and I would snuggle down and go back to sleep all warm and toasty. Great memories. Now this blanket is on my daughter's bed and she loves it. She loves it even more after I told her the story about who made it and how my mother put it on me on cold nights.

Each blanket is very different, but it wouldn't be "home" without them.

And the stream is still flowing.....

2011-01-12T18:11:00.000-08:00

My stream of consciousness has been in full swing over the last two days. I have flitted from one thing to another simply because I could. If I had a hankerin' to clean out a drawer, I did......then I went and made a cup of tea or coffee and curled up on the sofa with the cat.   I never did clean out my closet. There are two that need attention. I couldn't decide which one to go with, so I didn't do either. A friend also told me no one would believe I'd cleaned it out anyway, so why bother? That was the cowardly way out, I guess. I did many other little chores over the last couple of days. I can see some improvement in little places. I made a date with my bathroom baseboards. We cannot go that long without seeing each other again. I washed all the bathroom rugs in the house and put everything down on a clean floors.

I took a roast out of the freezer and prepared it to cook later. I also had a pound of lean ground beef and had the desire to make a meatloaf. I've always wanted to try and make a meatloaf without any bread, oats, or bread crumbs to see if I could make it low/no-carb.   Now I didn't know which one to make. I had all day to decide. I couldn't go anywhere. My driveway is one solid sheet of ice and any hope of a shovel would not come until this evening. (That's another story. We are Floridians who prepare for hurricanes, not snow and ice storms. I have plenty of batteries and water....but no shovel or scrapers.) The hardware store assured us they would be in by noon today....along with the sleds that we did not have either. So, I was stranded at the house....not that I was upset about this in the least. I have enjoyed being snowed in. It has been a blessing. So, what did I cook for supper? The roast?   The no/low carb meatloaf? Why, I made them both! I used a grated zucchini and Parmesan cheese with an egg as the binder. It was pretty good. I think I need more Parmesan cheese and maybe an additional egg. It was a little to crumbly....tasty....but crumbly. I served a salad, green beans, and creamed corn.

On a side note, my dear husband came home at lunchtime with two shovels and two snow disks. The girls played all day in the snow and ice. They had so much fun sliding around everywhere. By tonight it was too late to try and shovel the solid driveway. Don't really know how that is going to play out tomorrow. We shall see since we have to venture out to school and work tomorrow.

I have really enjoyed my two days of house ahrest. Yes, I spelled it correctly. AH-rest.

I've read. I've cleaned. I've cooked. I've tried to create a new recipe. I have loved being a mommy all day for two days! I've smiled a lot. I've made brownies. I've made hot lunches for my children after playing in the freezing cold until their noses were solid red. I've made hot chocolate after the second round of snow play. I have bundled them up and found a new movie to watch. I've made them practice their instruments. I have listened to them laugh and play together in their rooms.

I'm looking forward to seeing my students tomorrow.....but I will miss my home.
I will miss my afternoon tea.
Maybe I will take a bag with me and try and make a cup sometime tomorrow as a reminder of these last two days.

I look forward to another chance to wander in the snow.....and take a ride down the stream.

Until next time......

Wandering in the snow...

2011-01-11T12:21:00.000-08:00

My mind has done a lot of wandering today. There is something so peaceful about a cloudy day after it snows. It allows you to move at a pace where you can actually hear your thoughts. Sometimes I move so quickly through the day that I don't have time to listen to my own thoughts and really hear them. Today is one of those days where it is okay to live in "stream of consciousness". I'll never forget when my 11th grade English teacher introduced us to "stream of consciousness" writing. I remember thinking...."There is a name for this condition I have!" I have embraced it ever since.

I woke up in the middle of the night last night and noticed the glow coming from my window behind my blinds. I walked over to the window and pulled back the blinds and saw the beautiful ground covered with snow. There was a faint peach colored glow coming off the snow from the moon and I could actually see the entire backyard and around the neighborhood. Usually it is so dark at night you can't see, but because of the blanket of white on the ground I could see everything. It was a glimpse into what it might be like to live in the extreme north where they have "white nights". It was so peaceful.

Today I've been home with my girls because the roads are icy. The fire has been going. The girls played outside with the neighborhood children and spent hours sliding down the driveway across the street. It has the perfect slope for sledding. Thankfully, there was not traffic on our street today, except for one four-wheeler....and my poor husband who had to go to work today. I have cleaned drawers, gone through books to give away, sorted lonesome socks who have lost their mates, baked brownies, made my children a hot lunch of chili and hot grilled ham and cheese sandwiches after playing in the snow, worked on grades, and washed a couple of loads of laundry. I am sitting here now and I can look out my window and see the tops of the houses behind me covered in snow. Smoke is rising from the chimney behind me, and the neighborhood is so quiet. I heard the teenager across the street as he scraped and shoveled the snow off the perfectly sloped driveway.....no more sledding I suppose. There is a delay in the morning also for school to try and allow the streets to dry. There is so much to be done at work, yet, this unexpected respite in the middle of a week is such a blessing. It calms the soul, gives me time to look out the window and enjoy God's artwork. It is quite beautiful to watch the misting rain fall and the wind blow the snow from the few remaining leaves on the trees in my backyard. I even hear a bird outside. I feel sorry for it. Suppose it's lost?

So thankful for this blanket of blessings. I hope it won't be the last of the season. I love how God slows us down and allows us to enjoy life.

My mind has wandered in the snow today. In my mind I pretend I am in a cabin in the mountains....and the fire burns all night...real wood, not gas logs. I wear flannel and warm socks and am sitting in an over stuffed chair with my cat. I have a great book and a cup of coffee in the morning and tea in the afternoon. No television. Just music and books. I know I have to come back, but for just a little while longer........I will wander in the snow.

Cleaning in circles

2011-01-08T13:15:00.000-08:00

Not a deep post today...just some random thoughts. Today I decided to clean out the bathroom cabinets. This is a prime example of why I dread deep cleaning. I can work for over an hour and accomplish a tremendous amount of cleaning. I cleaned out all the bathroom drawers and cabinets by throwing away anything expired or that I haven't used in over a month.
Two garbage bags later (large ones, I might add) I was feeling quite clean and organized. I kept my good facial cleansers that I use daily, I have one travel bag that has a lot of small travel sized items in it, I have my drawers with toothpaste and contacts, and a few shelves of lotions and other things I use almost daily. As I walked out of the bathroom feeling very proud of what I'd accomplished, I stopped and looked around the bedroom at the clutter. Immediately I felt defeated. It is a never-ending battle.

I am not a hoarder. I watch that show on television sometimes and sadly I feel HORRIBLE for the people who have that sickness, and on the other hand I feel grateful I am not living like that. But then I look at my bookshelf and wonder why I can't throw anything away. I don't need to keep those books. I can't think of anyone who would want them. I have tried to sell them to the used book store for store credit and the store doesn't want them....so why can't I throw them away????? Something about books makes me feel so guilty for them sitting on the shelf, yet worse if I were to chunk them! If I had written a book and saw it in the garbage can I would be totally offended! Yet, they are just taking up much needed breathing room in my house and spirit. Someone please give me permission to throw away some books or tell me what to do with them so I won't feel so guilty!

Today helped. That bottle of lotion that smelled so good in the store, but yet I NEVER use it because ....well I really don't know why.....I threw away. Two garbage bags full of those scenarios makes me a free woman. But the sinking feeling comes when I realize that I need to do this EVERYWHERE under the surface of my home. It's the things you don't see. The cabinets, the drawers, the closets.....they all need a big dumpster waiting outside to haul off the things that I think someone would want, but of course they don't. It's like driving around in circles....it seems I never get anywhere.

I want to feel great about the bathroom...and yet I throw my hands up in despair because the rest of the house needs attention, too and I just don't want to spend the entire day throwing things away. Maybe I can muster up enough will power to do one more drawer.....or not.

Onward.
Maybe I shall take a nap.
I'll decide later.
Haha

Time well spent

2011-01-02T08:44:00.000-08:00

What is time well-spent? I guess it is different for each person. Some people feel that if they are not accomplishing anything in the way of work, tasks, "to-do list" items, cleaning, etc....then they have "wasted" time. It has taken me a few years of making many mistakes to realize that each person has to determine what is a good investment of their time.

On some days, accomplishing those needed tasks is definitely time invested wisely. It feels so good to put that last load of laundry away, look at a spotless kitchen, see clean closets and sit outside looking at your freshly mowed lawn. It makes life so much more enjoyable when you have tasks completed. There are other times when simply resting is the best use of one's time. These past two weeks of Christmas I have done just that. Sure, there were many tasks that needed doing, many closets that needed cleaning, and lots of neglected areas of the house that needed attention. But this time we chose to just be with family. The girls and I left on a Sunday morning before Christmas and traveled to Florida to visit my parents and my husband came right before Christmas with the car. We had to have something to transport all the Christmas gifts back in! We slept late, had coffee, ate way too much, had coffee, baked, played games, watched movies, had coffee, talked, visited with friends over coffee, read books, celebrated Christmas, shopped, drank more coffee, and basically accomplished no major tasks at all. But, I feel like the investments will reap tremendous rewards in the future. My girls have great memories of getting in bed with their grandparents, snuggling and reading, taking cart rides in the yard, swinging on the tire swing, making s'mores and roasting hot dogs by a fire, putting on "shows" (daily!), playing with the animals, making cookies, wrapping presents with no help, going to the movies, playing games, laughing until their sides hurt, sleeping late, staying up late, watching the lunar eclipse with their Noni until the wee hours of the morning, Janey playing violin with Papa on the harmonica in church, singing a duet on Christmas eve, eating Mother's homemade chili after the service, and so much more. Time. Simply put.
Uninterrupted.

Thank you, God for uninterrupted time. Thank you God for family.

Little Mandy

2010-12-15T19:30:00.000-08:00

Another Christmas memory of my childhood is of my mother reading us the same story every Christmas Eve. I remember she read it from a yellow note pad of paper that had been laminated and stapled together. The story poem was written in her hand writing. I don't know where that yellow laminated note pad is now, but I found the poem and have included it below. It wouldn't be Christmas without Little Mandy.

LITTLE MANDY'S CHRISTMAS-TREE

by James Whitcomb Riley

LITTLE Mandy and her Ma

'S porest folks you ever saw!--

Lived in porest house in town.

Where the fence 'uz all tore down.

And no front-door steps at all--

Ist a' old box 'g'inst the wall;

And no door-knob on the door

Outside. My! but they 'uz pore!

Wuz no winder-shutters on,

And some of the winders gone,

And where they 'uz broke they'd pas'e

Ist brown paper 'crost the place.

Tell you! when it's winter there,

And the snow ist ever'where,

Little Mandy's Ma she say

'Spec' they'll freeze to death some day.

Wunst my Ma and me--when we

Be'n to church, and's goin' to be

Chris'mus purty soon,--we went

There--like the Committee sent

And-sir! when we're in the door,

Wuz no carpet on the floor,

And no fire--and heels-and-head

Little Mandy's tucked in bed!

And her Ma telled my Ma she

Got no coffee but ist tea,

And fried mush--and's all they had

Sence her health broke down so bad.

Nen Ma hug and hold me where

Little Mandy's layin' there;

And she kiss her, too, and nen

Mandy kiss my Ma again.

And my Ma she telled her we

Goin' to have a Chris'mus-Tree,

At the Sund'y School, 'at's fer

ALL the childern, and fer her.

Little Mandy think--nen she

Say, "What is a Chris'mus-Tree?" . . .

Nen my Ma she gived her Ma

Somepin' 'at I never saw,

And say she must take it,--and

She ist maked her keep her hand

Wite close shut,--and nen she kiss

Her hand--shut ist like it is.

Nen we comed away. . . . And nen

When it's Chris'mus Eve again,

And all of us childerns be

At the Church and Chris'mus-Tree,--

And all git our toys and things

'At old Santy Claus he brings

And puts on the Tree;--wite where

The big Tree 'uz standin' there,

And the things 'uz all tooked down,

And the childerns, all in town,

Got their presents--nen we see

They's a little Chris'mus-Tree

Wite behind the big Tree--so

We can't see till nen, you know,--

And it's all ist loaded down

With the purtiest things in town!

And the teacher smile and say:

"This-here Tree 'at's hid away

It's marked 'Little Mandy's Tree.'

Little Mandy! Where is she?"

Nen nobody say a word.--

Stillest place you ever heard!--

Till a man tiptoe up where

Teacher's still a-waitin' there.

Nen the man he whispers, so

Ist the Teacher hears, you know.

Nen he tiptoe back and go

Out the big door--ist as slow!

Little Mandy, though, she don't

Answer--and Ma say "she won't

Never, though each year they'll be

'Little Mandy's Chris'mus-Tree'

Fer pore childern"--my Ma says--

And Committee say they guess

"Little Mandy's Tree" 'ull be

Bigger nan the other Tree!

She's copyin' me!!!

2010-12-14T18:46:00.000-08:00

They say that copying someone is the biggest form of flattery. Well, let the flattering begin! My dear friend writes a blog that I really enjoy. She has been telling stories of her family's Christmas memories over the years. You can stroll on over and visit her if you like. Just click here and get you a warm cup of tea or coffee and settle in for some great reading. Reading her blog is like sitting and having a heart to heart conversation with a great friend. (which she is!) So in honor of my sweet friend, I will share some of my own memories.

I love hearing about what other people do for holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas. Everyone has their own family traditions that make special days "complete" in their minds. I usually spend part of one class period at the end of school before Christmas break having the students share something about their family's traditions. It is so much fun to listen to them get excited about the smallest things! Isn't it really the little things that mean the most?

My Dad is a minister and therefore our family was always extremely busy during the weeks leading up to Christmas. Christmas music rehearsals, Hanging of the Green, children's choir programs at church, handbells, the Singing Christmas Tree, and of course the Christmas Eve service. My Dad always planned the Christmas Eve service. Our extended family lived in Alabama and we were in Florida. While my grandparents were living we would travel to Alabama for Christmas some years. We would finish the Christmas Eve service and head home to have my Mother's chili. We would eat chili and crackers every Christmas Eve. After that my brother and I would go to bed and around midnight they would come and transfer us to the car for the all night drive. My Dad would drive all night and my brother and I would fight over who got to sleep across the back seat and who had to sleep in the floorboard of the Oldsmobile. With not having to wear seat belts, sleeping on all night trips was pretty easy. When we woke up the next morning we would stop for some breakfast and then finish the drive and arrive by lunchtime. Somehow Santa always found us at our grandparents' house. It always amazed me.

One year I remember the usual chaos approaching Christmas. I remember having to pack the suitcases and get everything ready for the trip. As we got older we were responsible for packing our own suitcases. This one particular year my Dad was pushing us to leave on time and wanted to get on the road immediately after the Christmas Eve service was over. "Are you suitcases packed?" "Do you have everything you need?" "Is it ready to go in the car?" We heard these questions over and over again. The last statement will forever ring in my ears. I believe it went something like this...

"If you don't have it when you get up there, we are not buying it! You will just do without!"

We made the journey and arrived in Alabama. The next day we were supposed to have a family portrait taken with all the cousins, aunts, uncles and my grandparents. We went to get dressed for the picture when I heard my parents discussing something quite loudly in the next room. Apparently my Dad had reminded everyone to pack their suitcases....but forgot to pack his own. He had no clothes but the clothes on his back. At least that's the way I remember it. Nice children would have sat silently and never commented on the irony of the situation....but we had too much fun saying...."If you don't have it....we are not buying it!"
Every time we look at that family portrait and see the shirt my Dad had to go out and buy for the picture we tell the story over and over again. It never gets old!

And to this day...my favorite saying is....

"If we don't have it when we get there.....we'll just buy it!"

Comfort and Joy

2010-12-13T07:28:00.000-08:00

I have been thinking a lot lately about loving and worshiping God. Why is it that we don't just fall face down daily in thanks to God for all his mighty deeds. Why is it that we don't praise Him continually for his surpassing greatness. Our human nature is so tied to "comfort and joy" that we are so fallen when it comes to true worship and UNconditional love. We are incapable of loving unconditionally apart from God. He is love. He alone can give us the desire to love, worship, praise and proclaim his mighty deeds!

I have no one to blame but myself when I fall short in my worship of my Lord. I think we all realize and know full well that unless we are saturating our lives with God's Word--living in it---that we will never give Him the glory He deserves.

I don't know what it's like to suffer deeply. There are people who are put through dark times like Job. True, we all suffer and have trials to go through...but some people are really put through dark valley's "of the shadow of death". There is never a "fence sitter" in this company of people. They are either going to choose to praise God or curse Him. Sometimes it is a journey. Everyone faced with suffering on any level will go through the normal human emotional roller coaster. It is only human for us to struggle with our thoughts and emotions. It's how we come out on the other side of the trials that shows our heart. If we choose to remain angry and bitter we allow our circumstances to determine our love for God. If we choose to praise Him and love him despite our circumstances then we stand to grow closer to Him and love Him even more deeply than before.

I have never had a "Job" experience....and personally, I am thankful. I don't know anyone who would consciously choose to walk that road. I do know people who are walking this road today, though. Maybe not to the extreme that Job did, but pretty close. Each one is choosing one road or the other. I am praying that those who's circumstances are so desperate will surrender to the molding of the Holy Spirit. I can't even imagine how difficult it is. I don't even come close to understanding that kind of desperation. It makes me more mindful of praying for people. I am watching them...not with judgement or criticism...but with prayerful anticipation of what choice they will make. How are they responding? What can I learn? Intercessory prayer is so important. I believe that God also teaches us profoundly about Himself through our prayer life and our intersession for others. I don't believe that I tap into this nearly enough. There is so much to learn about God in praying for others who are suffering.

I came across an article by John Piper recently. You can read the full article HERE.

Here is an excerpt from the article that I found very helpful.

Four Lessons from Job

The lessons for us are plain and simple and profound:

Believe with all your heart in the absolute sovereignty of God. Pray that God would give you that conviction.
Believe with all your heart that everything he does is right and good. Pray that God will give you that assurance.
Repent of all the times you have questioned God or found fault with him in the way he has treated you. Pray that God would humble you to see these murmurings as sinful.
Be satisfied with the holy will of God and do not murmur.

Be like the great George Mueller of Bristol England. On the Lord's Day, February 6, 1870, his wife Mary died of rheumatic fever. They had been married 39 years and 4 months. The Lord gave him the strength to preach at her memorial service. He said,

I miss her in numberless ways, and shall miss her yet more and more. But as a child of God, and as a servant of the Lord Jesus, I bow, I am satisfied with the will of my Heavenly Father, I seek by perfect submission to His holy will to glorify Him, I kiss continually the hand that has thus afflicted me.

"...I kiss continually the hand that has thus afflicted me." Wow. That is truly a choice of submission. The pure sweetness and agony of those words have a profound peace wrapped around them. That is a peace that only God can give. Peace in the midst of suffering and agony. Jesus is surely the "Prince of Peace".
He is the source of our "gentle and quiet spirit".

May Christ reign in our hearts today.....with true peace....that brings true comfort and joy.

Precious jewels

2010-12-07T19:27:00.000-08:00

I have a very unique wedding ring guard. It is a wrap that has six tiny marquise diamonds...three on each side that surround my engagement ring. This sweet little ring guard has quite a story. Before we had children we moved to Florida from Alabama. I woke up one morning and went about my normal routine. I showered, dressed, ate breakfast and went to work. I taught school all day and then went home. As I was preparing supper, I noticed that one of the diamonds on my ring guard was missing. I was very upset. I couldn't imagine where in the world it had fallen out and because of it's delicate size I knew there was no possibility of EVER finding it. As I sat thinking about the lost gem, I remembered that the night before I had awakened in the night time because I hit my hand on the night stand and it really hurt. As I was thinking about hitting my hand, I remembered that I always sleep with my hand under my pillow. Could it possibly be there? I ran to the bedroom and unmade the bed and ever so slowly lifted my pillow and looked underneath. I could not believe my eyes! There was the tiny little diamond!!! I am still amazed when I think about it. It was a long time before I got the ring fixed. Two pregnancies and life got in the way. One day, many years later, my husband had it fixed and gave it back to me. I was thrilled. It was like getting a brand-new ring because I hadn't worn the guard in so long. We had moved to North Carolina and went back to Florida to visit my family in the summer a few months after I got my ring back. I was doing some laundry and as I was pulling clothes out of the washer, I knocked my hand on the agitator. I finished putting the clothes in the dryer and went to put some ice on my hand. I had hit it pretty hard and it looked as if it would bruise. As I looked down at my hand.....yep, you guessed it.....the little diamond had once again disappeared! It had been quite a while since I had knocked my hand. If the diamond had fallen in the washer...it was gone. It was so small it would have gone down the little drain holes. I was once again very sad and disappointed and added quite a bit of frustration to my feelings this time. How could this happen twice? I sat there and thought for a few minutes about how I didn't want to tell my husband. As I was fretting over this news....I noticed I was barefoot. A fleeting thought went through my mind...a very strange thought. Was it possible? I looked on the bottom of my foot and THERE IT WAS...stuck to the bottom of my foot!!! I can't believe this little diamond has disappeared and been found not once, but twice. I mean it's not like it's a large diamond that you can see across a room!! Sadly, the diamond guard once again got put in a drawer and went unfixed for quite some time. I took it myself over the summer and had it fixed....again.

The story doesn't end here. Yesterday I was coming out of my classroom and knocked my hand on the doorknob. I walked down the hallway and into my office and sat down to check email. I don't know how much time went by when I looked down and noticed that...yes....my diamond was once again....gone. (the big sigh) Really? Again??? I mean this is three times in 18 years that the same diamond is lost and then found. What are the odds of that? I got up and thought that it was useless. The hallway tile is white....and very dirty. Many feet had trampled the hallway. I walked down the hallway to my room anyway. I walked slowly and looked at every inch of the floor between my office and my classroom. No diamond. I got to the door of the classroom where I'd knocked my hand. I looked down on the carpet....and there it was! It was so small I almost missed it. I laughed out loud. The odds of this happening three times and being found three times were so high that it was quite comical.

As I put my ring up today in a safe place to await the day I can once again have it fixed, I was thinking about that little gem. Valuable, yet small. It is a diamond and diamonds are precious. It's size makes it vulnerable.
I got to thinking that God looks at me as a precious jewel. I look at me as "small" and "hard to see" sometimes---not very significant. God is so faithful. No matter how many times I get "lost" along this journey, He always finds me and fixes what is broken. I am never lost to Him. No matter how small or how lost in the crowd I may feel, God knows where to find me in that haystack and He fixes me over and over again. He never throws me away! He never gives up and leaves me there for the vacuum!

I will take my ring and have it fixed again. And I will remember how much my God loves me and considers me His jewel.

Then those who feared the LORD spoke to one another,
And the LORD listened and heard them;
So a book of remembrance was written before Him
For those who fear the LORD
And who meditate on His name.
“ They shall be Mine,” says the LORD of hosts,
“ On the day that I make them My jewels.
And I will spare them as a man spares his own son who serves him.”
Malachi 3:15-17

'Tis the season to be

2010-12-01T18:15:00.000-08:00

What will you choose to "be" this Advent and Christmas season? Busy? Stressed? Happy? Tired? Overworked? Bitter? Lonely? Sad? Hurried? Rushed? Frustrated? Excited? Occupied? Generous? Joyful?  Broke?

For years I have been many of the things in the above list----sadly, the negative ones. This season of the year has often found me waking up each day wishing I could pull the covers back over my head and hide. One more program. One more rehearsal. One more meeting. One more field trip. One more concert. One more church function. One more project. I met each morning with dread and exhaustion. I would hear about Advent and the anticipation we should feel about the coming of Jesus. My joy was lost. I used to enjoy all the activities and "stuff" I was doing. But as I've gotten older and had children I realized how the time is slipping away. My schedule had gotten so packed with "good Christmas things" that I was starting to dislike it more and more. Bringing others cheer was causing me bitterness.

Now, I don't think that the actual programs and activities were wrong. The problem was that it wasn't in moderation and balance.....it was in excess. Excess=too much!

The brakes had to be put on to slow the speed...and at one point I even came to a complete stop. Something had to change. We made some significant decisions within our family about how we would spend this past year. We have done pretty well sticking to our "plan". All in all, life has slowed down to a steady pace instead of a runaway train.

Advent. I have heard about Advent. I have participated in the lighting of the candles and the meaing behind each one. But I don't believe I have ever lived it.   Christmas comes and I am not prepared. I have often fretted over not being prepared with gift purchases or travel plans. But I don't feel I am ever spiritually prepared for Christmas. By the time it actually arrives, I usually crash. I have nothing left. I don't really want to celebrate because it comes so quickly when I finally have time to think about it.

Tonight we began our Advent devotions. We opened the first window on the Advent calendar and read the first lesson in our study as a family. The investment of time together studying God's Word has been such a blessing to me this past year. Consistency with family worship has shown through our relationships with God and one another.   I am so grateful to my husband for leading our family in our times together. It is never time consuming or anything that takes lots of planning. We just open up the Word and read together and discuss. We pray. Sometimes we even sing! I hope that my girls will always remember the times we spend together and they will continue to spend time with God, and lead their own children, "talking about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Write them on the door frames of your houses and on your gates". (Deuteronomy 11)

This time of year is still busy. There is a lot to do and accomplish in the lives of my children, my job, my husband's job, church, and family. But God has given me perspective. He has given me His wisdom in making some choices for my family that I think have made all the difference in our outlook on each day. I no longer dread the morning. (most days, anyway!!!) I still may need an extra cup of coffee, and we may eat out a little more during the month of December while rushing here and there. But the rushing isn't nearly as out of control and the schedule is more balanced. It is my prayer that I will be prepared for Christmas when it gets here. Prepared in my heart, that is. Come, thou long expected Jesus!

'Tis the season to......BE.

Making memories and passing on traditions

2010-11-26T13:39:00.000-08:00

We shared our Thanksgiving meal with some friends and neighbors this year. We really enjoyed the fellowship. We contributed to the meal as well, but it wasn't exactly the same as doing the whole thing in our kitchen. I really wanted to make sure I had a chance to pass down our own traditions to my girls, so we decided to celebrate again, today....the day after Thanksgiving.

Yesterday we made our traditional "dressin'' which starts with a whole baked hen in the oven. Meredith learned how to crumble the cornbread, add the eggs, and add the stock until "it looks right". No measuring...just making it look right. We also tasted (prior to the eggs, of course) to make sure there was enough seasoning, enough onions and enough crunch of the celery. She then learned the proper way to mix it all up....with your hands. So fun....and no spoon needed. It is quite therapeutic actually. She even learned how to add a couple of pieces of loaf bread by putting them under the faucet to wet them and squeeze those and add to the mixture. Lots and lots of "hands in" activity! It will take a few more times of doing this for her to actually get this on her own, but she is well on her way at 11 years old. Never too early to learn to make dressing.

Today we moved on to the girls' favorite things. Janey is sadly a potato girl. She could live on mashed potatoes. So today she peeled them all!!! It is time for her to learn how much work goes into those taters! It took her quite awhile, but she did a great job with the potato peeler. After they were done, she did the honors of mashing them.....but as is our family tradition, there must be the appropriate amount of lumps still in those taters! She also made the gravy. This year I used a simple packet, but plan to teach her to make it from scratch soon.

Meredith was in charge of the deviled eggs and sweet potatoes. She cut all the eggs and mixed the yolks with mayo and mustard until it was "the right color of yellow" as my Mother says. I'll never forget the first Thanksgiving that Brad and I spent alone and I was trying to make Mother's potato salad. I didn't know how much mustard to add, so I had him call her for me and ask her. She told him "until it's the right color of yellow".....and that totally blew his mind. I knew what she meant. So Meredith mixed all her ingredients without measuring...because there really aren't measurements...it just needs to be the right consistency, the right "color of yellow" and taste great! She did an awesome job. She used the little cookie dough scoop to fill them and we thoroughly enjoyed them. She asked me while we were cooking why they were called deviled eggs. According to many sources, the term deviled eggs was first seen in print in 1786 in the Oxford Dictionary in reference to cooking. You can follow my link to read about it. We learned quite a bit!

Next Meredith made sweet potato casserole. We even used Splenda in place of the white sugar so we could save a few calories. She used the hand mixer and made the potatoes and then the topping of pecans, brown sugar (no substitutions there, though), flour and butter. It was quite tasty as well.

There were other dishes---broccoli and craisin salad, rolls, cranberry sauce that looks like the can (read my last post), roasted chicken, and of course iced tea! What a fun day. All three girls in the kitchen. Brad has a bad cold and so he was very happy to eat and then be sent back to the sofa for the football game while I allowed the girls the wonderful pleasure of cleaning up after the meal. (There are perks to them getting older and learning to cook!)

Happy Thanksgiving!! I am truly happy. I am loving being a mother and teaching my girls to love others, love the Lord, respect their elders, have manners, not just be grateful....but show it and say it, and passing on memories and traditions that I hope they will never forget. I have enjoyed talking to them about our family and our relatives and how I learned to do these things. I love sharing stories about our family and making sure they have a tight connection to their roots.

As we watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade yesterday, they decorated the tree and commented on all their homemade ornaments, remembering when and where they made them. They decorated the house with all our trinkets and fixed them just like they wanted them. They set out the manger scene and made sure everything was placed "just right" in their minds of how it might have been the night Jesus was born. The fire was on and the Lucy (the cat) was watching. Such a simple scene brought me such pleasure. I am very thankful to be alive and to have such a precious family.

Now.....where are those leftovers?

Thanksgiving, rotten fruit, and the real Santa Claus

2010-11-24T10:56:00.000-08:00

Freeze! Time out! That is what Thanksgiving is more and more as the years go by. It is a pit stop in the middle of a race through the December. The nature of my job makes December extra busy beyond the normal busyness. But, I enjoy sharing about God's gift to the world through music during this time of year. Some of the most beautiful music is Christmas music and Advent music. Thanksgiving comes at just the right time.....time to take a time out and yell "Freeze!" much like we did when we were kids. It also brings back lots of memories. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.

I bought some clementines at the grocery store this past weekend. I love oranges and tangerines. I grew up in Florida and was spoiled to have about six orange trees, two grapefruit trees, and one tangerine tree right in my backyard. Of course while I was growing up I didn't realize how lucky I was. It was hard to count myself "blessed" when I had to go around the backyard every Saturday with a heavy duty black trash bag and pick up all the rotten fruit that fell to the ground. The longer you waited to pick it up, the mushier it became. I would reach under the tree and pick up a piece of fruit, only to have my fingers go straight through the rind. Yeah...yuck and "ewwww" is right. But as I sit here and eat my little clementine, I remember coming home from school and my mother cutting a whole in the top on an orange picked right off the tree so I could squeeze and suck the juice out of it. I also remember my Daddy getting up on Saturday mornings, or on special occasions and squeezing a gallon of fresh orange juice with the pulp still in it. Mmmm. Nothing like fresh squeezed juice. Now as I go to the store and look at the citrus, I have a very hard time buying any. I do every now and then because I crave it...but it is never quite as delicious as it was at home.

I also have such fond memories about Thanksgiving growing up. It wouldn't be Thanksgiving without the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. The T.V. doesn't budge from the parade channel until I see him. He's the real one, you know. All those other Santa's out there are fake. But the Santa in the Macy's parade is the real deal....the big guy. I love watching all the dancers, the singers, and the helium balloons. Sadly, the performers over the years from the "pop" world aren't as good as they used to be, but I still look for Kermit, and some of my favorite "non-human" performers. I always laugh at the hundreds of John Jacobson "show choir" singers and dancers, and I love the Rockettes.

Our family has it's favorite additions to the meal. We have the best dressin' in the world that my Mother has always made and now I make it for my family. We also love deviled eggs, sweet potato pie, and lots of other things. One thing we always laugh about is our preference for the cranberry sauce....the kind that comes in a can.....with no berries. The jellied cranberry sauce that looks like the can when it comes out and makes that special sound when it releases from the can...."thhhhhhhhlop". Yes, I know people make home made cranberry sauce and have special recipes, etc...but I just have a special love affair with good old Ocean Spray. :) It's also a lot less stressful!

Thanksgiving wouldn't be complete without a nice long nap. I think I am really looking forward to that the most. It's nippy here in North Carolina. I have the fire going. I'm lonesome for my family. I have lots of great memories in my mind that will keep me company. Comfort. That is what Thanksgiving is. Pure comfort. Time to "freeze"....time to reflect....time to count my many blessings and praise my heavenly Father for his never-ending love. I am spoiled. Truly spoiled by Jesus.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Embracing my place

2010-11-02T18:35:00.000-07:00

I am feeling a bit reflective today. It is lunchtime and I usually rush through lunch....which leads to either indigestion or just plain feeling yucky. Today I decided to write a little and "journal" here during my lunch break. Sometimes journaling is the only way to get the thoughts out of the head so I can move on to the issues of the day.

We had a death in our family this past week and our weekend was filled with the details surrounding the funeral and such. I am so thankful that even though the events were very sad, I was able to spend some time with my parents that I would not have been able to due to the schedule of every day life. We had a nice visit amidst the hurried events of the week and weekend. I enjoy hearing all about what they are doing and about people I know from my hometown. I think one of the things I am missing a lot these days is living among my "history". I am envious of those who are raising their families among the people who raised them.....parents, church family, friends, neighbors, old teachers, etc...It is so neat to see people raising their families in the place where they were raised.   They are bringing their children up in the church they were baptized in. Sometimes I get stuck in the "wishing well" of thoughts about that. I wish I had my old friends around. I wish my children could grow up knowing their kids. I have been looking at pictures that make me long to be connected. I guess it isn't meant for me to be connected with those lives as much as I would like to. I see their events and snapshots and wish I was there in the picture, too. I wish I had the familiar feeling of being around people I have known all my life and who have known me since I was a child. It's the "Mayberry" that I've always dreamed of having.

God has other plans for me, I suppose. I am ready to embrace those plans and embrace my place. I want to have deep relationships. I find that hard in this day and age. No one can stand or sit still long enough to listen. I often feel as if I'm keeping someone from something if I talk about my own life. I also wonder if people will actually remember what we've talked about. There are a few people in my life who really listen. I am so appreciative and thankful for them. I want to be a good listener. I think it's important to listen and follow up so people know they are loved and thought about and "heard". Those are important building materials in a relationship.

While I've been dreaming of yesterday, God has shown me that I am missing out on so much joy today. One of my girls awakens very cheerfully each day, while the other one tends to greet the morning with a scowl and a groan. The morning scrooge has become quite unpleasant to be around in the mornings and tends to lean toward the "mean" side of the street until she's had her breakfast. In order to remind her to begin her day on the right foot, we started waking our girls up every morning with Psalm 118:24. We say, "This is the day the Lord has made"...and they are to respond (cheerfully, I might add) "Let us rejoice and be glad in it." The first few days each of them responded enthusiastically. After all, it was a "new game" in their minds. After about three days, the "new" wore off.  My morning scrooge gritted her teeth on day four and responded with venom. Cheerful child overheard and responded with sugar dripping from her lips.  We got quite the chuckle over that morning. Thinking about the "game" we play with our morning words reminds me that I don't live out the scripture I have challenged my children with. I do not live each day with joy because God made it and has a plan....already planned.....already in motion.....a perfect and beautiful plan. I need to join in His masterful symphony. I wonder what beautiful passages I have missed....what solos, duets and exciting cadenzas that have gone unplayed because I have been sorting through my 8-tracks with nothing to play them on.

I am ready to embrace my place.

"This is the day that the Lord has made."   I will rejoice and be glad in it.

Could you keep it down a little?

2010-10-25T19:29:00.000-07:00

Nothing deeply profound to talk about today....just a bit of a written rant. Is it just me, or are young people today louder than they used to be? There is also a feeling of entitlement and arrogance that I have noticed growing "louder" over the last few years. I have been teaching for almost 20 years. I can remember a time when it was understood that when one enters a building--a place of business, worship, or school--he/she enters and speaks at a normal, quiet level, so as not to disturb things that might be in progress. I know that children learn the difference between "inside voices" and "outside voices". When did it become acceptable to yell/scream/holler inside a building? To top it all off, when it is brought to their attention, they simply ignore the request to lower their volume and continue on at the same level. They don't even realize they are speaking so loudly....it is their normal way of acting on a daily basis. The volume is bad enough, but the disrespect upon being asked to lower the volume by continuing to "own their territory" by their volume and behavior is what is disturbing.

I believe the noise is a symptom of a much deeper problem. When I enter a building, I tend to enter quietly. I don't know exactly what is going on inside the establishment and I was taught that one should always use their "inside voice". I hate going to stores, restaurants, and other places where people are carrying on at such a volume that I cannot even talk to the person I am with, much less enjoy time by myself. Cell phone usage is out of control in public establishments....and people on the phones are talking much louder than they would to someone sitting next to them. The thing that I just can't get over is the noise level inside. The students who have lockers in my building are very loud. You can hear them coming down the sidewalk....and understand what they are saying....while they are still outside. They then proceed to BUST in the door and continue their conversations and a decibel level that is just not acceptable. In order to get their attention, one literally has to yell over them in order to be heard. It isn't just my building, it's everywhere. It isn't just school, it's everywhere! What is going on? Are kids losing their hearing? Are they so out of control that they do not have enough manners to speak quietly and in a normal tone of voice. There are NO normal conversations happening. They are all very loud and very bold.

I'm weary. I feel like they look at me as if I'm always getting on to them for being loud. I purposely avoid areas and places that I find it so out of control. I feel as if I am the only one who ever comments on their volume....at least that is the reaction I receive from the noisy bunch. So why are they so bold? There is no consideration for others. None. The fact that people are working or a class is going on does not enter their mind. I think our society has become so self centered that we hardly ever consider others before ourselves.

I really don't know where to begin to solve this issue. For the time being I guess I will be the "mean lady" who always tells them to "lower their voices"....and keep a bottle of Advil handy.

I've got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart!

2010-10-20T19:12:00.000-07:00

"Abram has learned to laugh! He has found some JOY!" These were the words written in an email today from a teacher at our school who has just adopted a little boy from the Congo. This little boy is old enough to have learned to walk, but is just now learning to crawl.....just now gaining some weight......and having his needs met by his new mother and father in only just the past couple of days. Both parents are now in the Congo and one will be headed home to care for their other two children while the other stays to wrap up the last bit of paperwork needed before returning to the states.

I was thinking about the statement she wrote at the very end of her latest email update. This little boy has "learned to laugh". That statement took my breath away. There is not a day that doesn't go by that my children aren't laughing and giggling so much that I have to sometimes put a stop to it. In the light of her words.....I think I will think a little harder before I stop them next time. My children are bursting with joy...daily. I thank Jesus for this. He is the only source of that joy. We are not capable of understanding true joy apart from Christ. Sure...people have moments of happiness and laughter....but to experience true joy....that can only come from Jesus. This little boy, Abram is experiencing joy for probably the first time in his life and it is truly because of the love of Jesus in his new mother and father. They love each other with love that comes from Christ. They loved this baby oceans away with a love that only Christ could have placed within them. And now they have loved Abram and been caring and meeting his desperate needs for only a few short days and hours....and he has "learned to laugh..he has found some JOY!"

I am ashamed of the days I do not walk in the joy of the Lord. It is because of my own selfishness that I waste those minutes and hours wallowing in my own misery. Even on my WORST days I should be walking in joy. I talk about singing with joy in my class quite a bit. We laugh quite a bit. We rehearse hard and continually remind ourselves that we are learning to sing "skillfully and shout with joy!" (Psalm 33:3) In learning our music skillfully we are doing our very best as an offering to our Lord. I tell the kids that the joy from their heart should be unmistakably on their faces! But that's just it. I know that they are young. Some are Christians....and probably there are some that aren't. You can't fake true joy. When you have that joy in your heart others WILL see it. I hope that as these teenagers grow in their faith and in their ability to confidently express themselves through music and performance that they will be able to show this joy more and more through their singing. It is such a precious sight. I see it when I look in their faces in class. I see it when the music is "just right" and "clicks". I see glimpses in the faces of those who are quiet and withdrawn.....or "too cool" to show any emotion at all. Oh, Lord, that You would live in them so fully and deeply that they can't help but show it. Barriers of insecurity and fear would melt away and become nonexistent. The eyes that cut from side to side----looking for the approval of the "keeper of the coolness" would look only at Jesus with confidence.....and their hearts would "Sing to the Lord a new song, for He has done marvelous things!" (Psalm 98:1)

"Abram has learned to laugh! He has found some JOY!"

“Purify me from my sins, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. Oh, give me back my joy again; you have broken me—now let me rejoice. Don’t keep looking at my sins. Remove the stain of my guilt. Create in me a clean heart, O God. Renew a loyal spirit within me. Do not banish me from your presence, and don’t take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and make me willing to obey you.” Psalm 51:7-12

Unplug

2010-10-14T14:52:00.000-07:00

I have recently heard comments like these:

"My child is so bored at school. The teachers don't make class interesting or engaging."

"I don't enjoy church. It's not fun. It's just boring."

"My child doesn't like school. They don't like listening to a boring lecture."

"We need to teach our teachers to be more engaging."

This disturbs me on so many levels. I'll try and keep it to one perspective this go 'round...and that is from the perspective of a teacher.

By whose standard are we measuring the characteristic of "engaging"? The definition of the adjective engaging is..."winning; attractive; pleasing". Now I will be the first to agree that a good teacher can hold the attention of their class. A good teacher is interesting, wise, encouraging, and hopefully inspiring. This is getting more and more difficult in our society due to the fact that a vast majority of our students are so "plugged in" to other things that frankly are (to them) much more "attractive, pleasing, and winning". Video games, electronics, movies, and other media are so technologically advanced that humans really have a hard time competing when the stimuli people are used to is so glamorous and high-tech. To the average teenager, seeing a Hollywood blockbuster version of a classic novel will "win" out almost every time. You can finish it in under two hours, the visuals are stunning, there are sound effects that you would never conjure up in your own head, you can instantly download the soundtrack to your ipod, phone or computer, and the characters are all created for you....accent, looks, wardrobe, and attitude. Not many students (though there are some thankfully) would choose to read night after night when given the opportunity to just "see it" and have it spoon-fed to them. Sadly, the Hollywood version isn't the author's work.....it is an interpretation meant to sell millions of dollars worth of tickets. Who cares if they throw in a little extra "va-va-va-voom" here and there to "attract and please" the audience.

If you really want to get picky, I would ask parents today, "Is your child engaging (verb) in school?" Do they purposefully engage themselves in the great conversation that their teachers are prompting them to have? Are they reading their assignments? Are they preparing for the conversation to be had in class the next day so they can be part of the discussion? Probably not. Most want to be given what is necessary to pass the test and "move on". Who cares if they learn anything? It's sad. Now, there are some students who really get it and buy into the idea that they are part of the equation. You get out of things what you put into them. Where I get weary is in the realization that many parents (not all) want the teachers to do whatever it takes to engage their child, motivate them to learn, get them excited about the material.......and this at times can be summed up by saying "entertain them". I love teaching. I love motivating and inspiring students. But to be quite frank.....it is very hard to compete with what the parents are buying and providing for their kids, or allowing their kids to purchase for themselves. Television alone is bad enough.

I recently heard a talk radio broadcast about the television programs that are geared toward teens. Many are rated "PG13" or "TV14" and kids watch them because the rating says it's okay. Ha! Who decided that the ratings were the expert in what is "okay" for your child? Most parents don't even know what their kids are watching.....or even worse, are watching with them. Do a little research on the shows out there today and also take time to listen (or read Facebook posts) about who is watching what and you would be shocked at what they are tuning into each week. The subject matter is appalling and way beyond what any teenager should be exposed to. The talk show host was complaining about the offerings but ended up saying, "But what are you going to do when that is all that's on for them to watch?" Really? Do they need a neon sign saying, "Turn it off. Go get a book. Have a conversation. Unplug."? I am amazed that it would never occur to a parent to say "no". If your only options are raw chicken or spoiled milk maybe skipping that meal would be the better option.

Yes. Teachers should be engaging. I'm all for making sure that we have the right teachers in place that inspire our children. But against whose standards? Hollywood's? I don't think so. (anyway...they don't pay teachers what they pay actors.) Unplug your kids. It might surprise you how creative, imaginative, and yes.....talkative they might become if they didn't have so much other stimuli getting in the way of relationships.

Tears on my pillowcase and carrots in my stew

2010-10-11T19:12:00.000-07:00

I was folding laundry tonight and I had a few odd pieces that had been washed in a load from Saturday left to fold. A lone sock here, a washcloth there, a dishtowel....and a pillowcase. It is a white one with little pale pink flowers on it. As I folded the pillowcase I started to cry. It's such a random thing. As I was folding the pillowcase a flood of memories came rushing through my mind and heart. It reminded me of my grandmother ("Nana") for some reason. My brother and I would stay with my Nana and Papa in the summer for a couple of weeks every year. I have a lot of specific memories about their house. One of them was the sheets. They were always soft. I always slept in the "white" bedroom. We referred to it as the "white" bedroom because it had a white-washed bedroom suit and the other bedroom where my brother slept had a black dresser. The "white room" was kind of fancy in my mind, and the sheets had little pink flowers on them. She also had a closet full of high-heeled shoes with extremely pointy heels and pointy toes. I loved trying on those shoes. She also had drawer full of jewelry that I would sift through for hours. Their house also had floor vents for the air and heat. I used to love when the air would come on at night and they would quietly rattle. It soothed me to sleep....that and the fan my brother insisted upon having in his room that blew directly on his face.

A few days ago I was in the kitchen preparing supper. I had started some stew meat in the crockpot earlier in the day and around noon I put a few potatoes in and went to get out the bag of carrots to cut up and add to make a stew. As I was cutting the carrots, I had a flash back of my maternal grandmother, "BB". I can't remember how old I was, but I know I was very, very young because she died while I was a little girl. We were visiting "BB" and "Pop". My "BB" had just cleaned her kitchen and it smelled of clean Ivory soap (the bar kind). She always had Ivory soap in the house. I remember wanting to "cook". I wasn't old enough and she wasn't making anything at the time. She let me stand on a chair in her clean kitchen and cut up carrots with a dull knife and put them in a pot of cold water and pretend to cook by adding salt and pepper. I also remember being in her kitchen and eating frozen strawberries that came in little cartons like the small school lunch milk cartons. She always had them in the freezer because she made homemade strawberry cakes. My daughter is turning 11 this week and has asked me to make her a strawberry cake. I also remember that "BB" always had real Coca Cola in the bottles for us drink. It was so much fun flipping off the bottle caps.

I don't know exactly why I have had these memories flood my mind this past week. I guess it is because my girls have been talking about my parents a lot for the past couple of weeks and how much they miss them. I think I am lonesome for home. I am also sad because none of my grandparents lived to see my girls. I am am the youngest and only grandchild that did not already have children when they died. My father's parents were both at my wedding. I am very thankful for that. Both my mother's parents died when I was very young. I don't know why the emptiness grips me so strongly right now. I think it's because it's fall. Fall is one of my favorite times of the year, but it makes me homesick. I really can't put my finger on why because I grew up in Florida and we didn't have fall!!! No leaves changed and it was just plain hot at football games and trick-or-treating. I know there must be some literary or deep meaning behind why I love autumn so much but at the same time it makes me sad. Frankly, I don't have enough energy or strength in my heart to sort that out.....it would just make me cry more.

So come, autumn, come! But please blow away the melancholy in my heart.

Internal or external

2010-10-07T03:01:00.000-07:00

I read this morning about Noah. I was trying to imagine the world being so evil and corrupt that there was no good inside anyone at all. In Genesis 6:5 it says,

"The LORD saw how great man's wickedness on the earth had become, and that every inclination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil all the time."

I know I am sinful, but thank the Lord that I am saved and forgiven and have Christ living in me. At least some of the time my thoughts aren't evil. Everyone struggles with both internal and external sin. I think that if we spent more time on our thought life, our external sins would be less. I also read that we should live daily to have a "mind held captive to Christ." That sure would solve everything....or at least begin to make a dent in our fallen souls. I am so thankful that Christ died for me and took all my nastiness on Himself in order to allow me the privilege of having this relationship with Him. Yes, at times it is a struggle. At times it is really tough. But look at the alternative-----"every inclination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil all the time."

I let my evil nature spill out anger on to my daughter yesterday. Even though she was forgetful.....I had no right......no cause.......and really NO REASON OR EXCUSE to spill my own frustrations out on her. If only I could show a spec of the patience (makrothumia--Greek word....look it up. Very interesting) that God shows me minute by minute of every day. Thankfully my precious daughter forgave me.

I love her. I really really love her. I thank God for showing me how much of a fool I am at times.

I am very thankful for God's grace yesterday, today, and I know.......tomorrow.

Maker or Keeper?

2010-10-03T19:07:00.000-07:00

Maker or keeper. There is a difference.....a big one. I have been studying the fruit of the Spirit. One of the nine characteristics is peace. I heard a quote once that went something like this: "Peace isn't the absence of conflict; rather it is the presence of Christ." He is our peace.

Peacekeepers are people who don't want to rock the boat. They are the ones who see the tower of blocks and don't want anyone to add or take away a block because the entire tower will come tumbling down! So they run around "keeping the peace" at all costs. They don't say anything. They don't confront anything. They don't reach out for fear of rejection. As long as things remain just like they are everything will be "okay". Really? Not so. People are often afraid of speaking up or confronting a situation because they might be rejected or hated. They could possibly lose friends. Peacekeepers are keeping a false peace. Things under the surface are coming to a slow boil and if the burner is turned up even one notch...............whoops! False peace. Who needs it? This "lie" is unhealthy and causes more stress and turmoil than any shred of peace. It is an exhausting practice.

Peacemakers are people who enter in and make a difference. They aren't hot-headed or arrogant. They aren't pushy. They don't run around trying to continue the lie. Jesus was a peacemaker. He came into the world to make a difference. He confronted people when they were doing wrong. He entered into situations where people needed help. He offended people---not in a negative way, but by simply telling the Truth. He made people mad. He was rejected. At time people mocked Him, and others followed Him and were fascinated by Him. It was usually one way or another--they either accepted His Truth or rejected it. The water didn't remain still.....it was quite rough. But in the midst of the upheaval around Him he brought peace by His words, presence and Truth. He wasn't concerned with his own life, but with what His Father in Heaven had sent him to do. We are so concerned with how things will affect our universe....our little world....the one that revolves around "me". How will I be treated if I confront this situation? Will they hate me? Will they still want to be my friend? If your friend is caught in a sin trap and won't get help, you need to step in and help by confronting them and encouraging them to stop or get help. If they don't then you should take it one step further and go to someone who can help them. Yes, if you step in you will "rock the boat"...."upset the apple cart"......."pop the balloon"......and possibly be hated. Maybe, maybe not. But in the end, it might save a life. It might cause someone to turn to Christ. It is what Jesus did.

Just because you can, doesn't mean you should...

2010-09-29T07:40:00.000-07:00

The saying, "Just because you can doesn't mean you should" has come across my radar many times lately. I have encountered it on the Internet dealing with sports. One college football team is painting their field red in response to Boise State's infamous blue playing field. This is going to look like a blood bath for goodness sake. Before we know it, there will be all colors of the rainbow on football fields everywhere in order to gain notoriety for lesser known or publicized schools. Can you imagine looking at certain colors out there for two hours straight? Yellow? Red? Blue? Purple? Orange? I'm afraid that the human eye might not be pleased and comfortable after awhile.

I have also encountered this phrase in a sermon preached recently by my husband on "Designer Roles". The scripture deals with the roles of men and women in the church--particularly corporate worship. Part of the message dealt with what one would consider appropriate dress for worship. Do we choose to wear things "just because we can"? Should we? What is our motive? Does it draw attention (either positive or negative) to us rather than Christ? People get very defensive when it comes to what they wear. It leads us to really ask ourselves the motive behind how we choose to adorn ourselves, especially on the Lord's day and in His house....but also in daily living.

I have also contemplated the "just because" statement when it comes to television, movies, music and other media. So many people today choose to watch television programs and other things simply because it what is available to them. They figure, "these are my choices....I will watch TV or movies....therefore I will choose what I feel and believe is the best choice for me from what is presented to me by the media." As a teacher who deals with music choices on a regular basis, I am often faced with eager students who love their musical choices so much that they want to share them with everyone. The show GLEE, for instance is brought up regularly as "the best thing ever" and I am begged (yes begged) on a weekly basis to include arrangements of songs from this television show for us to perform. My response to these students is usually to go and print the lyrics off, study and consider them in the light of who we are as a school and a choir, study them in light of who we are as believers in Christ, and return to me with their rationale for why this would be a good choice for our choir to sing. Most of the time I either do not get a response at all, or some of the deep thinkers will come back and say, "I see what you mean. But I still like the song." Here again as Christians we are faced with decision we have to make in regards to what we have shoved in our faces by the mass media. The latest bands of the day, the most popular singers and celebrities, the newest television show that "everyone is watching", the newest book series out (and we want our kids to read, right?), the box office smash that is a "must see in theaters", and the clothes that are "in style" or on the racks. Many Christians fall prey to the mentality that "this is what the world is like"....."this is what my choices are and I must choose something"......"everyone is going/watching/reading/listening".....and again I hear in my mind.....

"Just because you can, doesn't mean you should."

We are told in Romans 12:2, "Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will." (emphasis mine) Apparently these people were battling "the world" like we are today. If it was bad then, it is even worse now...and going downhill fast. It is only when we stop conforming to the world and giving into the choices it presents us that our mind can begin to be transformed and be renewed. And THEN we will be able to discern what God's good, pleasing and perfect will is for us. Looking for "God's will"? Transform your mind by being different and rising above the scum and filth offered to us on a silver platter with glitz and glamour and "fun" decorating the package. That enticing package is a path of poison. It is the slow kind of poison that eats away little by little and often without our knowledge......like a hidden cancer that rears it's ugly head at Stage 4 without any prior symptoms or warnings.

Just because I have greasy fast food available to me at every stoplight in the city doesn't mean I should eat this every day.

Just because I am old enough to drink and smoke doesn't mean it is good for me.

Just because the radio is playing a song that verbally raps domestic violence in the name of "it's not right" on the other side doesn't mean that those words and phrases aren't penetrating my heart and mind. Maybe I shouldn't listen and repeat. (and sing the tune over and over again in my head)

Just because "everyone" (and I use that sarcastically) in America is watching a certain television show doesn't mean I should.

Just because the books are on the shelf doesn't mean I should read them.

Just because.....

We live in a wonderfully free world. I am so thankful to have choices. I am thankful that I have things at my fingertips to enjoy, read, listen to, watch and experience. But making wise choices is tough when the crowd is moving in mass toward something. It is so easy to follow the crowd.....or even get caught up in the crowd unintentionally---whether that is by mistake or association. Matthew 7:13-14 says, "Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it." Does this sound like a party train to you? Does this sound like you will be in mass company? It sounds a little lonely if you think about it. But it is what God has told us in His word and it simply means....

"Just because you can, doesn't mean you should."

the window of awareness

2010-09-21T12:47:00.000-07:00

I lost a piece of my oldest daughter this week. A small portion of her "window of awareness" has opened a little bit and life has begun to blow inside. I was hoping that the window could stay shut just a bit longer so as not to cause a chill or sickness of her heart. But alas, life must move forward. It's sad that as we move forward in our lives we are exposed to more sin and more of the negative things of this world. Childhood is such a time of innocence and joy....and then one day.....

I know that we can't shelter our children from heartache and from hard lessons. But...that doesn't make it any easier when they cross the threshold of places created by sin. I am not necessarily referring to anything earth shattering. Thank goodness for that! I am simply thinking on things contrary to the fruit of the Spirit. Have you ever had anyone give you a compliment that you knew was not meant as a compliment?

Here is an example:
You walk into the room with a new outfit on and you hear, "Wow! You almost look good enough to take on a date!" At first you might smile thinking they were complimenting you on your good looks. But then "awareness" sets in and you realize that though they might be saying you looked pretty nice....you didn't look nice enough for them to take anywhere and claim you as their date.

Teenagers and adults get these types of off-handed, cutting remarks. Children, however don't....or shouldn't have to. Sarcasm hasn't really penetrated their minds and hearts yet. Sadly, my trusting and beautiful daughter had a rock thrown through her window of awareness.
I think the reason it upset me so much was that she has the gift of encouragement. She will be your first and loudest cheerleader, your champion, your positive word when you have just done something great....or when you need a lift or kind word. She is sensitive to others' hurts and is genuinely happy for people when they win or succeed at a task or game. So when someone "compliments" her she automatically thinks they are genuine and kind in their remarks. But this time was different. This time she very cheerfully told me of her day and of "the compliment" given to her that caused a certain part of her day to be "good" that is normally not her favorite thing to do. As she recounted the scenario in the car on the way home from school she told me of the "compliment". I did not immediately respond because I was trying to process this statement made by an adult---an adult who should know better. After an awkward silence she said, "Mommy? That wasn't really a compliment after all, was it?"
That hurt. I didn't want to agree with her, but I felt I needed to recognize her understanding of the truth. It led to a great discussion about people who mean to be "cute" or funny, but in the end it is just mean.

As a parent, I am more aware of sin in the world than when I was only responsible for myself. Now that I have been entrusted with this precious gift from God....I am more vigilant of what they hear, see, and experience. There are a lot of things I would do over again, and she's only ten. I am forever grateful that God loves her more than I do and that He knows how imperfect I am. He knows that I have made many mistakes and will make many more. Ultimately He is molding her. I am so thankful that he has the plan and the final product already designed.

No wonder James spent so much time talking about our tongue. Words are powerful enough...but when you add human sin propelling them toward a target......look out! Satan has a very powerful weapon.

That night as my daughters were getting ready for bed, I told my husband about the "compliment". My daughter told me the next day that her Daddy had written a note on the wall-mounted white board in her room after she was asleep. It said, "I love you---Daddy." Someone else may cut her down.....but he loves her and always will.

Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. (Ephesians 4:29-32 NIV)

Watch the way you talk. Let nothing foul or dirty come out of your mouth. Say only what helps, each word a gift.

Don't grieve God. Don't break his heart. His Holy Spirit, moving and breathing in you, is the most intimate part of your life, making you fit for himself. Don't take such a gift for granted.

Make a clean break with all cutting, backbiting, profane talk. Be gentle with one another, sensitive. Forgive one another as quickly and thoroughly as God in Christ forgave you. (Ephesians 4:29-32 The Message)

What's In A Name?

2010-09-07T06:22:00.000-07:00

I did a study not too long ago on the names of God. It was one of the sweetest times I've had in the Word. I couldn't wait each morning to study and read about another one of God's many names. The study, Knowing God By Name, readily admits that only a small portion of God's many names are highlighted. There are so many that she couldn't list them all. This profound truth is comforting and overwhelming to me at the same time.

My God is so complex that one name cannot contain his character. I have four names when you add first, middle, maiden, and married. I think that is plenty. But God.....nothing can contain Him...not even a name. It takes my breath away. When I hear a song or read a name of God, I have an excited desire to look up the meaning behind the name. Some are very familiar, some are not. It is humbling to think that while we pray to God so intimately today and do not always use these formal names, apparently the people in ages past felt a great need to speak of God more reverently and with much more formality that we do. I appreciate and cherish the fact that my Abba is so easy to talk to and communicate with....but knowing that He has so many names with so many meanings reminds me that though I have an intimate Abba/daughter relationship with Him, I should fear him and show Him the respect and honor that his character demands and deserves. I think that we are so familiar with Jesus at times that we don't give Him this place of honor in our hearts. The more we think of him as "friend"....the less we think of His greatness.

I have talked about this before with people and have gotten mixed responses. I get the feeling that people don't really want to think of God past the fact that He is their friend.   I know that is important and very comforting. But God is so much more than my friend. The fact that God allows us the joy of calling Him "friend" is just icing on the cake. If all I do is call Him "friend", then I really don't know Him at all. Sobering. When I have talked about fearing God or coming to Him with an attitude of unworthiness, people don't want to talk of being "unworthy". It makes them uncomfortable. Unless we are talking of God's goodness and love, they get uncomfortable. When you get past the "friend" part, things aren't as easy and comfortable. It gets in your "personal space".

My God is infinitely more than my friend. He amazes me. The fact that He wants me to spend time with Him is beyond my understanding. The fact that He allows me to go on existing in my daily failures and sin is breathtaking. I am grateful and humbled at His mercy and grace. This "unmerited favor" deserves more than a token "friendship".  Issac Watts said it so beautifully when he wrote,

"love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all."

I Hate School...I think I'll Become A Teacher--Part 4

2010-09-01T15:25:00.000-07:00

If it could have gone wrong, it did. The week and a half leading up to the first REAL day of school (the day the students arrive) was painful to say the least. If it weren't for the few "bright spots" in my week (lunch with friends, seeing friends/colleagues) I just don't think I could have gone back every day. I don't know what it is, but for the past few years I can't begin a new school year without some sort of catastrophe or obstacles in my way. I know it must be Satan. He knows my anxiety and knows that this is a weak spot for me, so he not only chooses to take advantage of me at my weakest....he takes cheap shots. It reminds me of the scene in the original Karate Kid when Daniel(son) hurts his leg and his opponent is told to "sweep the leg". Satan just seems to get pure joy out of sweeping my leg.

The night before school began I was quite weary emotionally. Things had not gone the way I had hoped during the seven prep days. Once again I was starting the year behind the 8 ball. We labeled school supplies, fixed lunches, laid out the school clothes and had our family prayer and devotion time. As my children headed up to bed my husband asked me if I was ready. Immediately I started to cry. I believe my words were..."I don't want to go." I felt like I was five. I just did not want to go. I went to bed early and prayed myself to sleep.

I arrived on campus and found some things "put to rights" that had not been in order and ready any of the previous days. My entire body relaxed and I felt like I could actually step foot into this year. Something so simple, yet so necessary. I felt the spring coming back into my step. I had a piano class, made the rounds to check on all my fine arts teachers, and went an observed a new teacher during lunch. I ran back to my office to gather a few things for the next set of classes and I heard a bit of a ruckus coming from my room. It was lunchtime and I couldn't imagine who would be in there. Class wasn't to begin for another 20 minutes at least. I made my way down the hall to my classroom to see what was going on. As I opened the door, I saw all my students standing around hugging, laughing, talking, singing, playing the piano, and just LOVING being together again in choir. What a gift that was for me. All my anxiety and stress melted away to the sound of joy, laughter, and genuine love. They couldn't wait to get started. They knew NOTHING of my anxiety.... nothing of my feelings of frustration....and nothing of the mess that had preceded their arrival. I am so glad that God allowed me to be infected by their enthusiasm and joy before I ruined it with my baggage!!! Students don't need my baggage and my weariness. Their child-like excitement is something I hope they never lose.

Once again, I know why I do what I do. It's because of them. They motivate me to go back. They make me want to find new things to teach them. Yes, there are days that THEY make me want to run the other way, beat them, strangle them....well not really, but you get the picture. I remember that we are all children. We are all sinners. We are all imperfect creatures being loved by a perfect God. I know there are days that God has every reason to turn away from me....but He never does. The weight of the world is on His shoulders...the burdens of the universe rest in His care. No matter the catastrophe He dealt with while I slept, He still shows up ready to love me.

So I must follow in His steps.

Superwoman

2010-08-10T15:14:00.000-07:00

I ran across this poem in a Beth Moore Bible study book. I think there are many women out there who can identify with this. I hope you enjoy!

Superwoman's Freedom Plea

Oh, Lord, who said there's just One Life to Live?

I'm sure I'm livin' a thousand!

The few times I do awake to pray

All My children start arousin'!

Uh, oh! No time for quiet now

Think quick! The day's beginnin'!

I'll try to recall all Oprah's advice....

Then my head starts spinnin'.

Make those younguns religious, cautious but not suspicious

And watch their self-esteem!

Yet you be professional, look sensational

And keep that house squeaky clean!

And perish the thought you'd forget the needs

Of that marvelous man you married

Why, throw yourself before him when he raises his eyebrows

And quit thinking, "I'd rather be buried!"

Oops, now I'm late for work, the kids hate their clothes

And the baby's got a cough

As the World Turns so quickly, I'm severely tempted

To take the next jump off.

Surely they're kiddin', Is there anyone left

Who's honestly Young and Restless

As for me, I feel centuries old, completely worn out

And cellulite infested!

It's gonna take more than Ryan's Hope for this woman to survive.

I cannot abide another deep breath of these Days of our Lives!

Superwoman? She's a curse. To fake her is impossible!

And if I try for one more day, I'll wind up in General Hospital!

I've gotta be here, I've gotta be there

I frankly cannot face it.

Rescue me from havoc, please, show me what is basic!

Slow me down, Lord, save this life and keep my eyes on You.

Satan can have this rat race world----

Thank God, I'm just passin' through.

~Beth Moore, author

I dug my own hole....now I have to fill it back in

2010-08-09T07:17:00.000-07:00

Years ago I decided that New Year's resolutions were for the birds. The concept is good, but every year I made a list----then three months later had forgotten all about them and once again labeled myself a failure. I wrote a blog almost two years ago after I had come to a place in my life where I felt things were totally out of control. I recently read this blog again while going back through my entries to see how God has answered prayer and breathed His will in my life over the last few years. If you have trouble saying "no", you might find sympathy by reading it. (click here to read this past post) I read the blog and remembered the peace that came from reading the beautiful verses in Lamentations chapter 3 that say,

I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall. I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him." The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD. (Lamentations 3:19-26)

After reading this particular entry, it made me sit and ask myself how I was doing in this area of my life. I had ended the blog with the comment, " I dug my own hole..." I am now wondering if I have been filling it back in with the things that God wants me to or have I slipped back in to filling it up with things that are of no value. When you find yourself in a mess, cleaning up the mess is often hard and time consuming. It has been almost two years since I wrote those words and I really feel that I need to sit and evaluate exactly what I've learned for the last two years. I am sobered by the fact that it has been two years....I only thought it had been one. My, how time flies!

The particular phrase in the passage from Lamentations that spoke to my heart was "they are new every morning". God's mercies are new EVERY morning. Every morning, after I have miserably failed the day before, God is there ready to walk with me through the clean up. I am so thankful that my failures are not permanent. I am humbled to think that God loves me despite my failures. So every morning I come to Him and humbly and gratefully receive His NEW MERCIES!!

So, what am I filling my hole with? That's a good question. I think that as I analyze the changes I have made over the last two years, I see the improvements that have been made in our family. Reading that past blog entry has given me a wake up call to really take a look at things as this new school years begins for my children (and me). It is so easy to fall back into the traps of my past failures. Time is short and my children are growing fast. Some people I know are realizing their kids are already gone.....the short time of raising them in the home is over. I will one day be there and don't want to look back with regret.

I am off to get my shovel and choose my soil carefully. Jesus talked a lot about soil in the parables of the New Testament. I want to make sure that my soil is producing good fruit---fruit that pleases the Lord. When I go to the grocery store or the Farmer's Market to get my produce, I look for the best fruit and vegetables I can find. Bigger is not always better. Sometimes the smaller vegetables have better flavor, but they often get overlooked. It is the same in the fruit that we are producing in our own lives. Bigger is not always better. The fruit that our lives produce is for the glory of God...not ourselves. Sometimes our fruit might not seem big and eye-catching. But the only eye that we need to catch with our fruit is God's. His opinion is the only one that matters.

Thank you, Lord for new mercies. Thank you for your loving patience. Lord, I give you my shovel and ask you to help me fill my hole with good soil......soil that has been fertilized with your Word and much prayer. Help me to produce beautiful fruit that You are pleased with. I look forward to Your harvest!

And the walls came tumblin' down...

2010-08-06T06:59:00.000-07:00

I can't say it, Lord.
But I know your thoughts, child.

I know, Lord, but if I say it, you'll make it happen.
I know your heart, child.

If I say it out loud, then I know that everything will change.
I never change.

Yes, I know You never change, Lord, but my circumstances will change.
I am in control.

I like things just as they are, Lord.
Do you love me?
Yes, Lord. I love You.
Do you trust Me?
Yes, Lord.
Trust Me.
It will hurt.
Why do you feel everything that I do will hurt you?
It isn't what I want.
But I know what you need. I know the plans I have for you. They are not to harm you.

Have you ever had a similar conversation with God? Have you ever been so griped with fear that you know in your heart that God knows every thought you have but if you actually verbalize your prayer everything will come crashing down around you? I even know that I'm crazy and that God is NOT just waiting on me to verbalize my fears and concerns so He can plunge me into the lion's den. HAHA
Just writing that makes me see how silly I can be sometimes. But for some strange and exhausting reason, I hold on to my fears like my strength and control keeps them from unleashing themselves on me. If I hold them and never.....ever.....EVER....say them out loud, then everything will be okay. Crazy.

God is patient with me. I am forever grateful for His patience. I am a stubborn one. I know I disappoint Him daily, but He loves me just the same. A friend recently shared with me about a time in her life where she was going through fearful agony in her heart. She told me that she sat with her hands open before the Lord and gave Him her fear. We talk about being "open-handed", but she actually physically opened her hands before the Lord. A simple gesture? Not really. Probably the most difficult physical gesture she had ever performed. Physically.....actually opening her hands and giving her fears to Lord released the fear and gave her peace. That picture is forever in my mind and engraved on my heart. I have done this simple, yet agonizing gesture in my own prayer life recently. I have also prayed for God to give me the courage through His strength to verbalize my fears to Him. God knows my thoughts. Saying them out loud does not make Him hear them and pay attention any more than keeping them in my mind keeps Him from acting and moving in my life. Doing these simple gestures sends a message to my heart to release these fears to Him completely. And peace comes.

Verbalizing my fears to the Lord actually did cause the walls to come crashing down around me......but not like I envisioned. The walls that came crashing down were the walls of fear! Those walls come crashing down and bring me freedom from the bondage of fear! The view is more beautiful without the walls in the way.

a few of my favorite "girlie" things.....

2010-08-05T11:30:00.000-07:00

I love it when I open a blog occasionally and the writer has written about some trinket or product that they find fascinating, useful, or just plain fun. I have two products that have made me a happy girl lately.

I have sensitive skin and have tried every facial cleanser and makeup remover on the market. I've even bought the expensive ones. With sensitive skin, the drugstore brands often irritate my skin. Even those marked "dermatologist recommended" can still irritate my skin. I ran out of my $30 cleanser that really works. (which I really like, by the way---but really need to save that money!!!) I wouldn't spend that much if my poor rosacea didn't need it. But, I really wanted to find something less expensive and good for my skin. I've tried several....all to no avail. I was out of cleanser the other day and decided, once again, to try a drugstore brand. I ran across this new product for sensitive skin that I had never tried. I love it. It costs around $5 in most drugstores. It takes my make up off, cleanses my skin, leaves it moisturized and does not irritate it at all. I'm hooked.....and all for $5!!!

Another product that I discovered this summer is a new concealer. The difference in this concealer is that you apply it on top of your foundation and powder instead of applying it first. I love it. It is more natural looking than others and it lasts most of the day. Now, it costs a little more than the $3.99 concealer I bought at the drugstore, but I was getting $3.99 worth of coverage and it didn't last five minutes. So the $20 I pay for this is worth the feeling I get when I use it and "forget" it for the rest of the day!

So for about $25 these products last a long time and I'm happy with them. I've ended up saving money because I don't use another product---only to be disappointed---and have to go out and purchase another product. I think I will stick with these for a long time. If you end up trying either of them, I'd love to hear about it.....unless you hate them.....then you can just keep that to yourself! :)

If you have any great products that bring you joy....please share! I love to hear about things other people recommend and possibly try them out.

I Hate school.....I think I'll become a teacher PART 3

2010-08-05T06:14:00.000-07:00

I received the envelope in the mail. This is the envelope that says, "The party's over!!" No, seriously, it is the annual "back to school" letter that every teacher receives stating our marching orders. Thankfully my "marching orders" are bathed in love and blessings from a man who loves the Lord and prays for me and our entire staff. The time is drawing near. I am working through my initial anxiety and massaging my brain into "teacher-mode". I am blessed beyond measure to have a job....simple as that. I am blessed beyond measure to have a job where I get to love teenagers and watch them blossom into beautiful young adults. I am blessed beyond measure to be able to go to work in a Christian school where I can proclaim the name of Christ, relate everything to the glory of God and His plan, pray and read scripture openly in the classroom. There were thirteen years of teaching where I did not have the privilege of freely proclaiming the name of Christ in the classroom. God allowed me ways to love and witness, but it wasn't the same. Working in a Christian school has been a huge transition for me....one that has had many surprises along the way. (I will address those surprises in a future post)

As the big day approaches, my mind begins to churn. It reminds me of water heating to boil or better yet---the spin cycle on the washing machine. It starts slowly and then begins to spin wildly. This is what I am learning to control and pace. I begin scouring the hundreds of sources for new choral music, listening to samples, walking through my schedule in my mind, and planning the programs and trips. I get out my worn out copy of The First Days of School by Harry K. Wong and reread the same chapters and worn out pages that help me focus. I begin to wonder how I will get my room prepared with all the meetings required during the week and a half of pre-planning. Somehow it always gets done. The anxiety of all the details.....the pressure of all the "business" that has to be done can sometimes drive you to sitting and staring at the wall wondering where in the world to begin. The endless meetings, lists, and surprises of "new ways of doing things" can be overwhelming. One has to work hard to be calm. While we are reading through the staff handbook page by page, hour by hour.....my mind begins the spin cycle. It starts of slowly. But by the second hour of talking about tardies, absences, electronics on campus, and uniform infractions, my mind is rocking----unbalanced----just like my old washing machine when I don't balance the clothes properly! It is wild and loud! So if you see me get up in a meeting and go get some water.....it is usually to "balance the clothes in the load" so I can focus and lower my anxiety. I keep thinking about how many things I need to be doing in my classroom to prepare for the FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL. I realize, of course, that many of the things we do are very important, but none are as important as a teacher having a calm mind, thoughts and plans in order, and prepared for the precious gifts we will receive on the first day of school----the students.

So when it is all said and done.....all the meetings are over (for pre-planning week anyway), the crisis manual presented, the staff handbook has been issued, the bulletin boards are up, the class rosters are in my hand, lesson plans are written, objectives for the year have been turned in--------the day arrives and in they walk-----and all is well. After all, the students are the reason I am a teacher. It is definitely not all the other things. It is the faces staring back at me that make all the anxiety melt away.

Bring on the students!
I am ready to be a teacher again.

I hate school...I think I'll become a teacher PART 2

2010-07-28T07:54:00.000-07:00

And so my love-hate relationship with school began in kindergarten. The second kindergarten I went to was a church school. It was across the street from the church where my Dad had just taken a new job. This school let out at noon, so my Daddy would come across the street and pick me up and take me home on his way home for lunch. I remember being so nervous and wanting him to come back to get me. I would "suffer" (because kindergarten is soooo stressful, you know) through the morning activities...none of which matched up to being the "drink helper". When we had recess we would go outside to the small playground which was located immediately across the street from where my Daddy parked his VW bug at work. His looked just like Herbie without the 53 on the side. I would climb up the metal jungle gym and sit on the very top and watch for my Daddy. Surely he was on his way. I was a mess!

This anxiety carried on throughout the years. I was the good little student, doing my work, wiping my tears, thinking I would never see my parents again. Every morning I would have the same sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.....the same feeling I still have today after all these years. I had good days. I tend to be a little melodramatic, though I don't admit that often. As the day progressed I would straighten up and have a wonderful time with friends. I loved my teachers. I was a good student and active in every club and activity imaginable. I guess I thought keeping very busy would trick my mind into forgetting how miserable I was!!! It usually worked.

I don't know how I ever became a teacher. The smell of school, the feeling of being TRAPPED for 10 months into a day ordered by bells and air tight schedules has always brought me days of nausea and tears. The months of stuffing down my lunch so fast in order to have time to use the restroom and check my mailbox---all in a record 25 minutes so I can be at the door to greet the next room full of eager faces will soon arrive. The days of working at a speed of unhealthy proportions in order to keep the attention of dead pan faces of students who would rather be at home or outside in the sunshine is on its way. The hours of putting on one splendid "dog and pony show" after another, only to collapse as the last bell rings and I get the reminder of the marathon faculty meeting ahead are just around the bend. The schedule of racing from intense meetings and rehearsals to get my own kids to music lessons, cook supper, help with homework, run to buy supplies for the latest school project assigned are making their way down my street....ready to knock on my door and say, "We're back!!!"

So here I sit. In two week the high speed roller coaster ride begins. It makes me nauseous just thinking about it. My nerves start to come alive and I have to once again trick my mind into thinking happy thoughts. Part of my problem is I allow myself to be consumed by work sometimes. This has caused me great anxiety and stress in the past and I am working hard at being more balanced and realistic in my view of what I can accomplish in a day, a week, and even a year. I have been learning to take one day at a time instead of looking too far down the road. It's the pace. It's the having my every bathroom break scheduled. It's the calendar that fills so full you can't see an opening of relief anywhere in sight.
I am learning to say "no". I am learning that rest is important. I am also learning that doing nothing sometimes is better than filling up an empty hour with another activity. After all, it's from silence and rest that healing begins, great works are written, songs are composed, memories with families are made, and God speaks.

I love teaching. Are you laughing? I am. I love school. Still laughing? My stomach hasn't gotten the memo. Maybe I should put it on the morning announcements! I love school! I love teaching! I love students! I love being a part of God making magical moments in the classroom through music! Once on the train, I settle in and enjoy the ride.

So I shall break out the Tums and ginger ale and get back on the train.
The view is usually spectacular....if I can stay out of the bathroom!

I hate school.....I think I'll become a teacher

2010-07-27T22:06:00.000-07:00

When I was a little girl I used to go to school and cry. I would sit at my desk, take out my pocket-sized tissues that I believe were invented for people like me, and silently wipe my tears while I listened to the teacher teach me about fractions. I have often tried to remember when this anxiety over school began. I think I can trace it back to kindergarten. I remember going to kindergarten in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. I remember that the church where I was attending school had a wonderful teacher. She had a special board that had the jobs of the day. There was "line leader" (the coveted job), "door holder" (the job for the humble servant), "snack helper" (passed out the goodies) and the one that had me coming to school every day with anticipation----praying it would be my turn....."drink helper"(this person got to pour the drinks from the pretty glass pitcher). I don't know why this job fascinated me so much, but I remember always looking to see if my name had made it to that slot yet.

During the middle of this kindergarten year my family moved to Florida. My Daddy had been called to a church and we would be going before the school year ended. This meant that I would have to change schools. I guess that's when it all started.....I'm not quite sure. I remember my parents trying to decide where I would attend kindergarten. There was only one kindergarten at that time which I'm sure friends in this town now would find funny considering the major growth that has occurred over the years. At this point in history, there were only two elementary schools and one kindergarten which was located at the county office site. The decision was made that I would go try this kindergarten out for a day. My brother was attending one of the elementary schools. The kindergarten told my parents that the school bus picked up the kindergarten children and would deliver them home or to the elementary schools to meet up with siblings for carpool. I begged and begged to ride the school bus. I thought it would be exciting and such a "big girl" thing to do. My parents agreed, though I think it was with a little apprehension. My mother took me to school and met with the teacher. I remember it was very hot in the room and there were flies. The teacher was explaining the bus situation and lunch when a little boy walked by with sores all over him. The flies were sticking to him and his sores. The teacher said, "Boys and girls, don't touch Johnny. We don't know exactly what these sores are all over him." I don't remember anything else about the day except dismissal. It came time to go get on the big yellow bus and go home. I was to ride the school bus that would take me to my brother's school where my mother would pick us up. All the children had tags hanging around there necks with yarn. The tags said which bus they would be riding. I was new. I didn't have a tag. I guess the teacher was busy, preoccupied, tired......but she didn't put one of those tags on me. I was at the end of the line and I just followed the person in front of me and got on the bus. I rode the bus as far as it would go and got off at the school. The wrong school. I didn't realize it was the wrong school until I had been standing outside the office forEVER it seemed. Finally the principal came out and asked me who I was and who my parents were. He recognized the name and called my mother. She had been waiting at the other school for me when the bus arrived without me. She came to pick me up and it was decided that I would go to the kindergarten across the street from our church. Another new school. My stomach turned....and churned. I believe that this began my love-hate relationship with school. This is the place where I met the thing that would always cause me anxiety and so much joy.

And so the saga began.

Silence

2010-07-07T12:39:00.000-07:00

I have often been fascinated (and I must admit a bit irritated) over the years at how uncomfortable we are as a society with silence. As a musician I have been asked to fill that silence many times. "Could you play something?" Sadly, most don't care what is played as long as it fills the "awkward" silence. But why is it awkward? I have a touch of an attention problem. (ahem) I mean, I have a hard time reading if there are other things going on. If there is music playing (with lyrics) I have to concentrate extra hard in order to not have to re-read the same paragraph over several times. Sometimes I resort to reading out loud---which has brought many a curious glance my way, I'm sure. Funny, people hear me reading, but the loud music or other conversation around them doesn't phase them. I remember one time many years ago (BC---before children) I was playing for a church service. The pastor was baptizing some new Christians that day. I was excited to watch and rejoice with these new believers. When the baptism was over, the service continued with hymns, songs, and the message. Later that week the Minister of Music contacted me to tell me that he had gotten a pretty big tongue lashing from the pastor because there was "no music playing during the baptism part of the service". Really? I didn't miss it at all! (haha) Does silence put people on edge? The minute the background music starts I think people breathe a sigh of relief and also relax.

I agree that music can play a wonderful part in helping us to relax. I also think music is worshipful. But sometimes we need silence to really hear, don't we? I know I do. I rarely get it. I think part of my own personal problem is that I am so in tune to the music (no pun intended) that the rhythm and melody invade my mind and I have a hard time focusing on anything else. I would love to hear people's thoughts on silence. I know that we wouldn't want to have too much of it, but I think we could hear God a lot more clearly sometimes if we allowed ourselves to sit in silence.....even in church.
I have a friend out of state who plays for a church that has no silence. One song leads directly into another. When the minister prays, the instrumentalists keep right on playing "quietly in the background" and never "miss a beat" so to speak. Their music rises and falls with whatever aspect of the service is happening at the time. After the prayer, they move right into the introduction to another song. The music comes to a "rest" during the sermon, but picks up strategically at the time of the invitation. Some of this is fine, but I'm talking about an extreme case here. So what is the deal? Are we afraid of being alone in our thoughts? I am baffled by this. Does silence make people lose focus? It has the opposite effect on me.
I would love some feedback on this one.

Why the need for noise or sound? What's up with no silence?

Overflow

2010-07-06T11:36:00.000-07:00

The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For out of the overflow of his heart his mouth speaks. (Luke 6:45)

I am continually amazed at the junk that seeps into our hearts and minds. After having children I became even more aware of the impurity in the world. Things that I had become desensitized to suddenly revived their shock value. Sadly, I had become so aware of these words and phrases that they had lost their sting. I will never forget the day I was sitting in the doctor's office with my daughter who was four at the time. The office would get quite full with restless children and the receptionist would put on a movie to pass the time. Children's movies are safe, right? One would think. We really had no choice whether or not we wanted to watch the movie. It was on. It was loud. So unless we waited outside we were stuck. As the rated G movie progressed, the cartoon character began using a word and phrase that we hear often and some people choose to use often. I hate words and phrases like these, and personally choose not to use them, as well as teach my girls not to use them. I remember cringing to think that my four year old was hearing this word/phrase being repeated over and over again.

I did a little research on the word today because of another incident. My girls were upstairs playing and I was downstairs fixing their lunch. One of my children appeared at my side with tears in her eyes. She came down to confess that she had "unintentionally" said this short phrase including this word I absolutely abhor. She looked terribly upset and made a full confession. This opened up a great conversation about how we hear things and allow them to penetrate our hearts and minds without even knowing it because we listen to movies or TV shows that continually use these seemingly innocent expressions---though they are almost always used as an insult or putdown.

I don't know exactly what propelled her confession. Of course, I would hope that it was true guilt. But there is always the "I'm gonna tell!" influence. I don't know which it was, but it still opened up a great conversation. We talked about trying to find out where she had been hearing it and be reminded that allowing ourselves to continually hear those words or phrases makes it much easier to pepper our own language with them. I found it interesting that the incident occurred while they were role playing. The story they were playing out was actually a negative one and therefore the insults seeped in. We decided that insulting one another as part of their role playing story wasn't such a good idea.

After this incident, I did a little research on the word/phrase in question. Every place I looked said the same thing. This phrase is indeed a vulgar one. But...and I quote...."but its meaning has generalized........so that it no longer strikes the average American as obscene." It has, however, not lost it's sting. It is still used in a derogatory way, and some still use it with its original intent and meaning. I see other phrases and words on Facebook every day. Teens use these as if they are commonplace and acceptable. I know they are aware of the meaning. I am also aware that it makes them feel accepted. The more they use them, the easier it becomes. When I was younger, girls usually (but not always) did not use questionable language. That is no longer true. Girls and women alike are peppering their speak with words that make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It cheapens their beauty. Boys and men are not excluded. I think it cheapens their influence and their dignity as well.

I have had this conversation with my girls before, and I am sure to have it many times over the years to come. We will continue to talk about what we are filling up our heart and minds with. I will continue to impress on them that what comes out of our mouths first came from our hearts. I will also continue to tell them that they should always think about a conversation with Jesus. Would He be honored by their words? If not, they ought to think twice.

Lord, help me honor You in my heart and mind.....that my mouth may praise You and honor you all the days of my life.

Wonder

2010-07-02T06:34:00.000-07:00

I feel I am losing my sense of wonder. I have information instantly at my fingertips. Just the other night my husband and I were talking about something and we said, "I wonder what......" Immediately we picked up the computer and "google'd" the particular question and had an instant list of about 1000 answers. We immediately looked up our answer and quickly read through the website. We had our answer and.....then we sat there. What a letdown. The wonder was gone....answer given...I was smarter....but something was missing.

Instant answers. I love the fact that if I have a question, I can get an answer almost immediately. It has come in handy many times while cooking, dosing instructions for certain medications, research, scripture searches, shopping, finding out about rashes, etc. Google is a mother's best friend! Of course, you can go overboard and end up talking yourself into believing that the rash that is simply "a rash" is some dreaded disease leaving one with only a few months left to live. Yes, I have gone overboard a time or two.

We live in an age where information is literally at our fingertips in a matter of seconds. When I was a young girl, we would have a research project that would require a trip to the library. I would walk in the door and smell that wonderful smell of.........books! Then the search would begin. Libraries are so calming and quiet. I could stay there for hours. But now, all we have to do is flip open the laptop, type in our topic and out spits thousands of answers to our research questions. The only issue is which ones to choose. We never leave our home, we don't even have to get off the sofa! No overdue fines on books (yes, I had MANY). We can then write the research paper right there on the laptop, correct mistakes (without correction tabs--remember those?), and then print to our wireless printer! Viola! All finished! Oh! Sometimes we don't even have to print...we just e-mail our paper to our teacher/professor! How convenient. I remember being in college and computers were just becoming popular. They were HUGE in size. The new lab had about three rows of computers and three printers located at various places around the room. The night before papers were due, students would be found in the lab typing away, while others waited (for hours at times) for the next available opening. I admit, things are much easier now!

I know that there are wonderful things about the technology age we live in. The thing we are missing is balance. We don't do a very good job with balancing things today. We are out of control in some ways.
I have lost my sense of wonder and I want it back! I no longer sit and daydream or wonder about things. I believe that our creativity has been damaged and crippled by our lack of wonder. Instead of letting our minds work, we let the computer do our work so we can......get on to the next thing on our list. No wonder we feel so nervous and agitated.

I am going to make a conscious effort to allow myself to wonder more---and daydream.

I wonder how many times the word "wonder" is in the Bible? Maybe I could google it....or maybe not.

Lessons in the Night

2010-07-01T07:32:00.000-07:00

One night about three years ago I had a hilarious experience. My children were in first and second grades at the time. We went to sleep that night and all was well. Around 2:00 am we were awakened suddenly with a loud, "Surprise!!!" Well, being 2:00 am, we were in that stage of sleep where we were startled awake--- not exactly sure what was going on. We opened our eyes and noticed the room was completely dark. We heard laughter and giggles and a few more "surprise" outbursts. As our vision came into focus, we saw two small figures standing in the doorway of our room, fully dressed with backpacks on their backs! My husband (not thinking at a all!!) began to lay into them with a pretty big tongue lashing! I quickly stepped in. With my hand on his chest to silence him gently, I said, "Wow! You are already dressed! We are so proud of you. But girls.....it's 2:00 in the morning. That is the middle of the night. You need to go back to bed for a little while and then you can do this again!"

They were so excited when they went to bed that night. I wondered what they were up to. They had decided to surprise us and show us that they could get up and get dressed on their own without us telling them to. I guess in their excitement, they forgot to look at the clock. One of them (the oldest) had awakened in the night and remembered their "secret plan" to surprise us and just figured it was time!
They not only had their clothes laid out and ready, but their backpacks as well.

It reminds me of the parable of the ten virgins. (Matthew 25) The ones who took their oil with them were truly ready. They were truly saved. They not only lived a life that looked like a Christian, but they truly had the Holy Spirit living inside them. The others were caught off guard and when the bridegroom arrived they realized they had no "oil". They first tried to get their oil from the others. We can't ride on the coat tails of others. Jesus will not know us. We aren't His. Then they tried to frantically run and find or buy some oil. It just doesn't work that way. We must be ready. Always. Our lamps must be full. We must be filled with the Holy Spirit, walking with Him, truly His. When He comes for us, we will know Him. We will be ready! I want to be so ready that I don't have to focus my eyesight and try to figure out if it's Him! I want to recognize His voice, His face, and be standing at the door, fully dressed....with my backpack on!

He who testifies to these things says, "Yes, I am coming soon." Amen. Come, Lord Jesus. ~Rev. 22:20

Dear Friend

2010-06-30T08:15:00.000-07:00

Dear Bossom Friend,

Where have you been?

I have looked and looked but cannot find you in any corner of my world. I have searched for you in the night and look for your porch light, but it is not flickering....lighting the path to your door.

Are you happy? Are you busy? Oh how I long to share your days. The exciting moments were always memorable, but it was the ordinary days I cherished the most.

I long to hear you news and share in your experiences. I long to share my news, my joys, my laughter with you. I laugh and smile and wish you were here to share it.

Dear friend, I have left my own porch light on. It burns every night. I fear the light will burn out soon.
Some nights I wonder why I turn it on at all.

You never come.

Once I shared my joys! Once I shared my hurts. I listened with my heart to yours. I prayed for yours.

I fear mine were........forgotten. No worry. I suppose mine really weren't that important. You asked, though. So I shared. I shared from my heart.

You asked again, and again I shared....and you listened.......as if you'd never heard them. I wonder if you did.

Dear friend, I pray for you. I pray that we will one day share our thoughts and dreams. I want to laugh and cry with you. I want to be myself with you and accept you for who you are...faults and all.

Life is out of control. We are on a merry-go-round that won't stop.
I wish we could be in a swing instead. Swings are much more pleasant and peaceful.
They lend themselves to fellowship. Front porches, too. Have you ever noticed how many homes have beautiful front porches today? But no one is sitting on them. No one is rocking on them. No one is swinging on them. No one is visiting. We are all too busy. We also become comfortable locked behind our doors and walls. Myself included.

Help us, Lord to slow down....and swing or rock.

So friend, I'll meet you in the swing or the rockers...
Will you be there? I will.

Bare Naked

2010-06-29T23:13:00.000-07:00

Stripped down. Nothing left.
Just you and God.

No video. No background music. No snacks.
Just you in the silence...listening for God to speak.

No entertaining singers. No charismatic speaker.
Just the spoken or read Word.

Would you stay? Would you worship?
Would the silence make you uncomfortable?
Would the lack of luster bore you?
Would you be able to stay awake?
Would it "keep your attention"?

I have been asking myself lately what it is that beckons me to worship.
For every description of things that lead me to worship, others might argue that these things don't lead them to worship at all. They might say that it isn't in their taste or preference. What blesses me might not bless them. What calms my spirit might put them to sleep. What makes me look upward might make them look for the nearest exit. You can flip the roles and find me looking for the nearest exit at times also.

But why is that? I am convinced it is because the things that we claim help us to worship are preferences, not necessities. So what would happen if we stripped our worship down to bare nakedness?

And therein lies the answer in my heart. I believe we must remove the preferences from our minds and hearts..... 24/7....not just on Sunday. Worship is 24/7. If we are referring to worship as what we do on Sunday, then our preferences are already in the way. We have "worship" in a box, in a building, with a particular atmosphere. Yes, we all have preferences. Believe me....I do. But I believe that if we really worshipped every day, all these things really wouldn't matter. We would actually be longing and starving for something totally different than what the world gives us. Satan has us right where he wants us. We are so focused on finding our preferences and having our senses tickled that we aren't focused-- really focused on God...unless the song is right, or the preacher is entertaining or charismatic enough. True worship should lead us to God. It shouldn't lead us to a preacher, a church, or a service. True worship happens in our hearts....."in spirit and in truth". If we have been seeking Him without all the frills....we won't long for our preferences anymore. We will long for the Word. We will long for Him. We will then be able to worship alongside other believers of all ages....

"And the things of earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace."

Stop being rude and I'll take you for icecream...

2010-06-25T17:48:00.000-07:00

Two moms were standing in the shade talking at the pool today. The son of one of the ladies got out of the pool and walked over to the table and began tearing through the pool bag. After a brief, but wild attempt to find what he was looking for he yelled, "Mom! You REALLY need to clean out this pool bag!" I was really shocked at his attitude and tone of voice for a child of what looked to be about 9 years old. His mother turned around and saw the mess he'd made and said sarcastically, "Thanks for taking such care of the things in the bag and putting them back so neatly." He answered her very loudly again, "Mom! This bag is mess! You REALLY need to clean it out!" (I had visions of myself picking up the bag and dumping it all over the ground and telling him to clean it up) The other mother steps in at this point and says, "Don't talk to your Mother like that. That is very rude. Now put the things back in the bag correctly and speak respectfully to your mother." The boy's mother replied, "See, even she thinks you are rude. I've talked to you about this a hundred times and you just don't listen." The other mother then proceeded to go over to the young boy and say, "Let's try an experiment. For one day, try and speak kindly and respectfully to your mother. Do you think you could do that? Would you try? Just for one day. You'd be surprised at the response you might get from her. When my children are nice to me, I respond with taking them for ice cream. See, if you give it a try---just ONE DAY of speaking kindly and respectfully to your mom you'd be surprised what she might do for you. Just answer 'Yes Mom' all day. Do you think you could try? If you can last all day for one day, I'll give you $5!"

I was totally speechless. Oh, I had a lot running through my head....but I was stunned. He is NINE YEARS OLD for goodness sake. What is wrong with these women? It is obvious who runs the show in this family. After he got back in the pool, the boy's mother shook her head and mumbled something about how she has to deal with his back-talk and rudeness every day and it just doesn't get any better. The lady's friend began to sympathize with her and tell her that she just couldn't stand by and let him talk to her that way. At first, I was impressed with the friend stepping in to tell the boy to speak respectfully, until I heard her try to bribe the boy into being nice to get ice cream and $5. Basically what he heard was, "Be nice for ONE DAY...just ONE DAY....and you'll get ice cream and $5." That is what he learned.
The sad thing is....I don't think he will make it for an entire day anyway---not even for ice cream and $5. It's too hard. He'll then realize that he'll most likely get the ice cream anyway....and doesn't really need the $5 because his mom will buy him what he wants to keep him quiet.

And sadly, that is what a lot of kids learn.
And then they send them to school for teachers to deal with.

Thank you, Lord, for summer. I really need it.

Pace

2010-06-24T06:16:00.000-07:00

It's summertime.

Just saying it today makes me breathe a little more deeply.

I've been thinking about pace a lot the last couple of days...trying not to hurry at my chores, rush through my errands, or show impatience with others. Why? Because God has given me summertime. I have the blessing of time. During the regular "school year" I don't really have much time to relax and do what I want to. Sure, we all have down-time. We may say that we have NO TIME to do anything, but that's not true. We really do, it's just not at our leisure. We have to take it when we are not on someone else's clock and schedule.

I have read several Facebook status updates that use the word "bored". It amazes me. How can one be bored? I think that we are too accumstomed to having others (work, school) organize our time. We are also over committed and over scheduled. We fill every available space with an activity. When we are not on a "schedule" we tend to become bored because we are not involved in an organized

activity. We can still use our time wisely and schedule ourselves a bit while on vacation, but we should not schedule and organize things so tightly that we miss the joy and ease of free time. You know...the old "I need a vacation from my vacation" mistake.

Instead of becoming bored, we need to cherish the time we have that is unscheduled. David says in Psalm 23:

"The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures

he leads me beside quiet waters,
he restores my soul."

There is a reason that this is the first thing mentioned in Psalm 23. God wants us to lie down in green pastures....lead us beside quiet waters........so He can restore our souls to righteousness. Until we take time to just "be".....be still.....be quiet.....be unscheduled....be relaxed.....be unhurried.....we won't be able to hear God and listen to His wisdom and direction.

I have heard God in the last few days. I have heard Him speak to my heart and show me how I speak harshly when I am interrupted by my children. I am so used to being in a hurry, that when I have a task or something that I am doing and get interrupted by my children, I react with a short fuse. God asked me "Why?" I have time. I need to realize that I can go back to my activity or task when I am finished being interrupted. No need to get anxious or hurried.

I have also realized that boredom is a sign of my lack of creativity and my inability to see things around me that need attention. Sometimes it isn't the dirty kitchen that needs my attention....sometimes it's my children or my husband. God wants my attention.

I cannot get to know Him without taking the time to read and study his word.

I have the time.

It's summertime.

Who can be bored when talking with the Lord.

IN THE GARDEN

I come to the garden alone

While the dew is still on the roses

And the voice I hear falling on my ear

The son of God discloses

And He walks with me

And He talks with me

And He tells me I am His own

And the joy we share as we tarry there

None other has ever known

He speaks and the sound of His voice

Is so sweet that the birds hush their singing

And the melody that He gave to me

Within my heart is ringing.

We need to tarry.

We need to hush.

We need to stop.

We need to listen.

We need not be bored when God longs for us to know Him.

Could there be anything more exciting?

Kitchen Lessons

2010-06-23T13:42:00.000-07:00

I took the car in to the dealership today to have it serviced. The girls and I planned to head straight to the movie theater for the free summer movie they show every Tuesday and Wednesday. Going to the movie in the middle of the day is so fun. What was supposed to be a routine oil change and tire rotation turned into a two-hour wait to fix a recall on our vehicle. Our first lesson in patience for the day. And yes, we missed the movie.

I decided that I wanted to make a homemade pound cake for a dear friend of mine who recently did a huge favor for me. I was out of few of the basic ingredients (well, all of them actually---since I bake so frequently during the school year--cough cough). I called the girls down and we headed to the grocery store to pick up a few items. As soon as they found out why I was going to the store the conversation went like this:

"Oh, Mommy, can I help with the cake?"
"Oh, me, too, Mommy!"
"Oh, hey, I have an idea! Why don't we make different types of icings and flavors! I want to make some strawberry cake."
"I don't like strawberry! I want mine plain."
"Mommy, can we make two cakes?--one for each of us!"

And so it goes......

My first thoughts were to say "no" and do the cake myself. After all, it was my idea in the first place and I wanted to do this for my friend. It was my plan. As they girls kept chattering away (and my head continued spinning) we finished our shopping and arrived back home. I was trying to think of a way to talk them out of wanting to bake because what would have been a half hour project would now turn into a much longer one. I had flashes of all the super moms out there who talk about their wonderful cooking moments in the kitchen with their children, how the perfect mother would JUMP at the chance to dirty up her kitchen. She wouldn't give a second thought to the fact that she'd mopped the floor yesterday and that flour and sugar WOULD be spilled on the floor. The wonderful sugar-filled memories would all outweigh the trouble---and to the perfect mother---the word 'trouble' would have never come out of her mouth.

I decided to give in and let them cook. I knew that my own cake would not get finished today. Pound cakes take a long time to cook and cool. All the pans would be dirty, too.

The girls began the tasks with excitement. I was trying, really I was. I just wasn't being very successful. I was put out and irritated that my own project had been interrupted. As the girls began the very first task (washing their hands) an argument broke out over who was taking too long to rinse their hands. I knew this was going to be more trouble than I wanted to deal with. I intervened and began the discipline. I felt my tension rising. As the child in the wrong reached into the drawer to get a dish towel to dry her hands, I told her that she needed to admit her fault. She did with a huff as she proceeded to throw the dish towel back into the drawer and close the door (or slam it in my opinion). This has been an issue.....the drama.....the over-reacting----playing the total victim. I had had it up to my eyeballs and told her she was finished in the kitchen. She turned (surprisingly quiet---of course that meant tears were coming) and walked out of the kitchen. God stopped me in my tracks. My whole attitude was one of impatience and quick tempered reactions. What a horrible example I had set. How could I send her out of the kitchen when I was guilty, too?

She is always remorseful. Always. That is one thing about this child. Her remorse is quick and true.
I apologized. She apologized. We started all over again. All of us. And this time, we had no issues.
Even when the sugar and flour spilled on the floor, we just smiled. Even when the eggs dripped all over the counter, we just wiped it up.

The cake is in the oven. The girls are playing. The fragrance is filling the house. I hope it smells as sweet to the Lord.

Don't Stop Believin'

2010-06-22T07:06:00.000-07:00

"What will it be? Door #1, door #2, or door #3?"
Do you ever feel like church has become a really bad episode of Let's Make A Deal? Which door is the "real" Jesus? Or....the old version of Wheel of Fortune......"I'll take the Wednesday night suppers over there for $25, Pat. I'll also take the youth program over on the other display for $50. And I guess I'll take the Bible study class over there for $35. Oh! But I'll take worship for $500 over there!!!" There are so many choices. Sometimes they are so enticing, that you find people going to different churches for different pieces of their experience. Families are even divided. Parents go one place, kids go another. It grieves me.

Back to Let's Make A Deal. I woke up this morning out of a deep sleep because I was having a dream. I became so agitated and upset in my spirit that I had to get out of bed and find reality. You might find the scene funny in a way, though the longer I sat there spinning in my dream in this scene, the more panic-stricken I became. I walked into what I suppose was a worship service. There were people everywhere on the stage. The music was loud and exciting and they were playing, of all things, Don't Stop Believin'. There were some very intense guitar players working on their solo/duet and they were playing while moving up and down the aisles of the venue. I asked the person I was with why they were singing this song. It didn't fit a worship service. The person explained to me in a loud voice over the roar of the music, "Oh, they changed the words! Just listen!" So I tried. I heard the chorus: Don't stop believin'. Just hold on to that feelin'. There was a very organized routine going on up on stage. A very "Glee"-like choreographed routine. But I couldn't understand any of the other lyrics. Everyone was caught up in the excitement of the song and dance and guitars. They were having a blast! I still couldn't hear the "new" words. I remember being very confused in my dream as to how this was appropriate worship.

Then, as most dreams do, right at the climax of the moment the scene snapped to another place. It was a mobile upload to Facebook from a worship service. Someone was taking a mobile picture from out in the audience. The picture was of the stage where the worship leaders were leading. There were two yellow spotlights. One was positioned on the right and the other on the left. The two lights sent simultaneous beams of light to the center of the stage, illuminating the worship leader. The rest of the audience was in the dark. I saw no one singing. Everyone was standing and watching. It looked like a concert of some kind. The picture was being taken from within the audience DURING worship. The caption read, "Worshipping."

At this point I sat straight up in bed. I was literally sick. I just couldn't imagine being in the middle of true worship and popping out my phone and getting a quick shot of the band. I got up and had some breakfast and tried to stop my heart from racing. (this really disturbed me) It scares me to think that there are people out there looking for something that is missing in their lives. They are looking for something to fill a need that only Jesus can. Do we as a body of believers lead people to Jesus? I see many of us working very hard to meet people where they are....give them what they like. We wouldn't want them to think that Jesus is different than what they enjoy and experience every day, would we? Would we? If they are looking for something missing in their life, will they find it in what looks familiar, or in something different----something "set apart". Yes, there are many people who come to church because it is comfortable and inviting. In some instances it has been decorated to make them feel relaxed and invisible---"in the dark"---so that no attention is brought on them or anything required of them. They don't have to sing, they don't have to give, they don't have to participate....just come observe and watch worship. I wonder how many times we think about these people while we are worshiping. I think we (the church) have been so busy making the church and worship look like the world that we forget that there are people who are looking for a void to be filled. Are we doing these things to "attract" people...or to make church into what we want it to be. Are we so busy filling people up with Starbucks that we forget the Living Water? I mean, when you are at Starbucks do you choose water when there is a vanilla latte or a mocha frappuccino as an option?

There are literal readers who will get hung up on the specifics of my dream. I'm not. I don't presume to say whether or not one is a worshiping in spirit and in truth. That is what God determines when He looks upon our hearts. This is not a contemporary -vs- traditional argument. It's not a denominational dispute. I just know in my heart that if someone needs a Savior, they are looking for something different that what they already know. Are we set apart? Or are we so similar to the world that the nonbeliever is having a hard time deciding which door to choose?

Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life and only a few find it. ~Matthew 7:13-14

My Chair

2010-06-02T18:53:00.000-07:00

This is my chair. It is quite "girlie", I know. If it were covered in a plain "manly" fabric, I'm sure it wouldn't be my chair...but since it's covered in pink flowers I can claim it. I am looking forward to summer when my chair and I can become acquainted again. This last month of school my stamina has worn thin and I have missed my early mornings of hot coffee or tea, my Bible, and my chair. One more ingredient to my special mornings in my chair is my sweet old friend, Lucy. She is thirteen and gets up every morning with me and sits on the arm of my chair. She likes this chair as much as I do. So don't worry, Lucy! I'll meet you in our chair very soon. I can't wait to pour me a cup of green and white tea and meet Jesus in my chair. Now, I talk to Jesus every day...all day. I've even been reading my Bible.....just not in my chair. So, I can't wait. One more day!!!
Maybe I'll go buy a new kind of tea to celebrate!

Stop The Train

2010-05-29T20:05:00.000-07:00

God's plan is perfect. When my children were born, I was so busy taking care of their hour to hour (or minute to minute) needs that I didn't ponder on God's will for their lives much in the very beginning. But as the years have been passing by, I do. I wonder what they will be, what they will do, who they will marry, the places they will travel to, and so many other things. I have moments where my chest tightens, my breathing shallows, and my eyes well will tears that eventually spill over in prayer. It's at those moments I realize that I am not in control. Only God has the plan. I can teach them, model what I want them to learn, love them, care for their needs, feed and clothe them, provide all I can to prepare them for what God has planned for them. Am I doing a good enough job? Am I giving them all the bits of knowledge I can before they are out of my grasp? All this pondering leads to panic at times. Panic that I bring on myself. It is then that God reminds me once again that He has the plan, it is His plan, and He will see it to completion. Phew! That is a relief. I am learning to let go of things that once bothered me greatly. Grades lower than "A" on a test, forgotten homework once in period of a month (yes, ridiculous, I know), and so many other unimportant things.

I watch my students at school struggling to "make the grade", take the "right" class, and apply to the "right" college. But are they really becoming who God ordained them to be or who others expect them to be? We have been discussing our classical method of training our students at the school where I work. We are on a fast-moving train that is gaining speed at an uncontrollable pace it seems. We have been discussing ways to slow the train down and really look at how we are teaching. A question that has come up many times is "What is the outcome of an education?" It has become college acceptance. But, the outcome of a true education is virtue. People say they believe that, and then their actions continue at the pace of that fast moving out of control train. The train to get into the college they think they are supposed to go to. If college is a goal for some, I wish they would look at how many colleges are out there. It doesn't matter where you go. No one will even know where you went ten years from now. I have a Bachelors degree and a Masters Degree, and it really doesn't matter where they are from. They happen to be from two very good schools with good reputations....but that really doesn't matter. God has a plan. His plan may include college for my children. I pray that I will be open to allowing my children to pursue worthwhile passions, develop talents, pursue virtue, and become the young woman God intends for them to become. I don't have the perfect school picked out for them. It doesn't matter if they don't want to go to my Alma mater. What matters is that they are happy and educated. God will take care of the rest. Life may seem competitive, but God is in control. We need to let him drive and we need to let go of the map we create for ourselves.

Stop the train. I think I'll walk. The view is much better.

Summer Songs

2010-05-27T18:29:00.000-07:00

Finally. I am a beginning to see it coming. Summer. I have been longing for it, but unable to allow myself the time to really get excited about it. Tomorrow is the last day of school.....for the students. They are, after all the reason we are there! Everything we do after they leave is about tying up the loose ends, entering grades, cleaning rooms, and storing things away for the fall....all the while we are planning and dreaming of the fall. (really, we are!) We dream of the things we will do differently, things we will do better, and new things to try!

One of my fun things I like to do at the end of the year is to take my two daughters to the bookstore on the way home from their last day of school. I'll never forget the first time I did this. I was so excited! I got them in the car and we left school singing and cheering for summer! I told them I had a surprise! We drove up to Books-A-Million and I told them we were buying books for the summer. They were thrilled...until they realized that the books I was referring to were summer WORKbooks. Their singing and cheering quickly took a nosedive. Even though they didn't get the type of books they were expecting, it still brought me a bit of excitement. I love "homeschooling" during the summer. Every morning they start their day in their workbooks. After they complete their daily activity, they are free to go outside and we will also go to the pool. There is also something satisfying and cleansing about getting my home in order after an avalanche of chaos. My refrigerator needs rescuing, my pantry is calling for organization, my laundry baskets are not separated by colors right now and my closets are frightening. Then there is the other side of me. My piano needs playing, games that haven't been out of the box in months, bedtime stories that need to be shared, lightening bugs that need to be caught, books that need to be read, and miles to go before I sleep.

I still have a few more days full of jobs that will sign my name to the year. Once that is finished I plan to make my trip to the bookstore and celebrate!

Keeper of the "Coolness"

2010-05-03T19:19:00.000-07:00

We've all been there. We have all found ourselves in a place where we hide our true personality, convictions, and beliefs. We have even found ourselves hiding the fact that we "like" or "dislike" something. Simply put, we are afraid or ashamed to be ourselves. We find that someone else seems to have "the list" or "the book" that lists the things that are "okay" or "cool" or "approved". My question is this: Who died and made that person "Keeper of the Coolness"?
Who gave them the badge? What makes this person the authority on what is "cool", "right", "approved" or "okay"?

One of my daughters is 10 years old. She is still a little girl who loves to play! She loves to dance, sing, pretend, dress up, make up plays, put on shows, and yes...play with Barbies. But for some reason, she thinks that if certain people in her class knew that she not only plays with Barbies, but likes playing with Barbies that they will make fun of her, shun her, and talk about her behind her back---or in front of her face for that matter. This is an age-old problem. For centuries people have hidden things they enjoy or thoughts and opinions they have from others for fear of ridicule or embarrassment.

So who made this person or group of people "Keeper of the Coolness"?? Well we did, silly. The simple fact that we hide our true selves from others elects them to this "office" by a landslide with no competition whatsoever. What reaction will they have to our transparency? What if we replaced this unhealthy fear with a healthy fear of the Lord?
Oh, that we might fear the Lord instead of another human being!! God already knows our true heart. We are transparent whether we intend to be or not. He sees us and knows all. Are we being true to who He created us to be? Are we enjoying the personality he instilled in us? Are we walking with joy because we are bringing Him glory by fulfilling our purpose?

I implore you to pick up your badge. Put it on. Grab your bumper sticker or your car magnet and show the world that God is "Keeper of the Coolness". As long as God is pleased with who you are, everyone else should be, too. Don't elevate others to the position of deciding who you are and what you will think. Live in God's word. Listen to His truth. Reflect His image! By doing so you will become your own keeper!

Keeper of the word.
Keeper of the way.
Keeper of the truth.
Keeper of the love.
Keeper of the coolness!

You will be happier, healthier, and more peaceful.
You can show others that they are unique human beings, created by the One whose opinion really matters. His approval is all we need.

Now I Pray Myself To Sleep

2010-01-24T19:22:00.000-08:00

Now I lay me down to sleep
But sleep won't come and time just creeps.

My mind is busy
It just won't rest
Tomorrow, I shall not be at my best.

I forgot a task.
It did not get done.
So my mind works through it without the sun.

Tomorrow will come
It will not wait.
A night without sleep shall be my fate.

I pray for friends
I plan my week
I pace the floor, then rest I seek.

Lord, Jesus calm my spinning mind.
Slow it down so rest I'll find.

Thank you, Lord
For peace anew...
When sleep won't come, I'll rest in You.

Not yet! It's too soon!

2010-01-02T19:17:00.000-08:00

I'm not ready for my daughter to cross over into this next phase of life. I know it is a natural thing for her to stretch her wings and gain some independence, but I'm not emotionally ready for it. I hear other parents laugh and say, "Just wait until they are teenagers!" or
"It only gets worse!"

I know these things. We all know these things. I don't want to hear them from people though. I want to hear encouraging words. Isn't that what we are supposed to do as Christians---encourage one another---mentor younger parents? What normally happens is that when you are sharing your emotional turmoil or your struggles with others they respond with statements like the ones above that not only belittle your situation, but always make it seem as if they have it much worse with their older children. We all go through the same cycles in parenting. Some children might be more strong-willed than others, some more passive, and some down-right impossible....but we are all the same, really. The one main difference is whether or not you are parenting with Jesus or without Him.

So here I am about to cross over into the next phase of raising daughers. My 10 year old is beginning to change. Her physical appearance is changing. She is tall, slim, wearing training bras, and has started asking questions that I am not ready to answer. The thing that hurts the most is watching her hear our instruction and choosing to turn a deaf ear to it. (I can hear the chuckles from other parents now---but I don't need their laughter and belittling comments--I need their encouragement) She is still a sweet, beautiful and smart young girl, but she is no longer "little".

Today we passed a particular establishment on the road that we pass periodically and we received the same question from our girls: "Why is that a bad place? What goes on inside that place? It looks so pretty on the outside!" That last statement is another blog, another day---(why things look beautiful on the outside, but are dirty and ugly on the inside)---but how do you explain to a 9 and 10 year old girls about places that exploit and degrade women...but where the women there think it's okay? When do you allow their eyes, ears and hearts to hear things that they have not been exposed to? I told them I'd tell them about it sometime when I could gather the right words to say. But while their hearts and minds have not had to cross that bridge and be exposed to things of that nature yet, I grieve the day that they gain more knowledge of evil and sin in the world. Do you shield them? Do you beat the world to the punch and tell them about it first? This inner war is raging inside me and I have shed many a tear over this. The world is not like it was when I was 10. It is harder and harder to keep them innocent in their minds and hearts.

Lord, I plead for Your guidance.
Come soon, Lord Jesus, come soon!

Prince of Peace

2009-12-24T12:40:00.000-08:00

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. ~Philippians 4

"Peace will guard your hearts and your minds."

Sometimes I feel like my heart and mind are at war. War....and definitely not peace. My mind is screaming things at me all the time.

"What will they think if you do or don't-----?"

"You're not good enough."

"You're not smart enough."

"Failure."

"You have to ---------or all will fall apart."

The blanks could be filled in with anything. I have plenty to fill them with. Sometimes I fill them with the same things over and over again. You'd think I'd learn, but my mind won't let me.

My heart aches and whispers things between the tirades of my mind.

"What is more important?"

"You know the right thing to do."

"You are beautiful."

"Will this matter a year from now?"

"What you do makes a difference and matters."

"God loves you and desires to know you."

So the battle rages on.

I really want the battle to cease---the stress and anxiety to just go away.

I think there are many more people who feel stressful and anxious, but never admit it or say it out loud because that in and of itself is admitting some sort of failure and weakness. Then one risks people shaking their heads with pity and thinking....."what a shame....I thought she had it all together." In all honesty, people probably would be thinking...."I am so glad to know that she is human, too.....I thought it was only me that couldn't get my act together."
The father of lies wants us to believe that we are a failure. Or, better yet, he wants us to believe that what he wants us to do IS important and better than what God wants. God's way is almost always atypical of the world's pattern. Satan wants us to feel inadequate and incapable of holding it together between work, family, and especially church! The Prince of Peace wants us to realize our inadequacies and our shortcomings and embrace them as opportunities to fill us with his love and peace. Many self-help "experts" and life/motivational coaches preach that we all have everything within ourselves to be an extraordinary person. Doesn't that sound inspiring and eloquent? No! Truthfully, it makes me sad and know that there is NO WAY that I could ever have what it takes to be extraordinary. I am nothing.....nothing without the saving grace of Jesus. It is Christ and Christ alone that will bring me to fulfill my potential...the potential that God created me for.
Peace. Maybe the true peace of Christ will brighten the corner where I live in 2010. I am responsible for what God entrusts to me. Relying on His strength, His guidance, and His peace will empower me to take care of business.....His business.
Raise my children....
Teach them....
Love them....
Care for my husband...
And sit at my Lord's feet.....

And breath in the fragrance of love.....

And peace.

The Perfect Christmas

2009-12-13T18:11:00.000-08:00

What is your idea of a perfect Christmas?
Have you ever had one?

I am dreaming of a perfect Christmas. In my imagination this is what I find...

The only Christmas programs that we do are ones that minister to people who are less fortunate than most. Simple programs for those who need the love of Jesus and the GOOD NEWS of his coming are the kind that really make me happy. I've put on a lot of programs this season, and the one that has blessed ME the most was one for a room full of elderly people---some alert, some not, but all heard the sounds of Jesus' love through music, and also had great conversations, hugs and gifts from teenagers. It was a beautiful thing to see the gap closed between those generations.

Another piece to my "perfect" Christmas would be time. Time to spend teaching my children about GIVING. Not just giving gifts to family and friends, but giving to others. Thinking about others and what they need or what would really lift their spirits. I would love time to spend planning out blessings for others.

Then there is baking! Oh how I would love to bake at Christmas. There are so many wonderful recipes I want to try! But alas....I'm too tired at night to see them through. And the weekends....well they are so filled up with ACTIVITIES and PROGRAMS that we are rushing from one thing to another and there is no time to stay home and bake.

Parties! Oh how I love parties! But, sadly I haven't been to one this year. That's just sad, isn't it? I would even love to host a party! I love those cookie exchanges where you come with two dozen and leave with two dozen. I remember attending one when my girls were very little and I wasn't doing all these other things. My husband kept the girls and I attended the cookie exchange with cookies that I had baked. Oh how much fun that was! I've heard of a lot of those this season, but I guess I won't be attending any of those this year. After a while, people quit inviting you because they know you can't come.

Decorating! I've always wanted to put up lights on the outside of my house. Maybe someday I'll get around to that!

I just don't know how to change things. But next year, maybe by taking one thing at a time, I can do some of the things on my "perfect Christmas" list. Maybe next year my family can attend some things together instead of all being in different places.

The season often passes me by until it's Christmas Eve. In reality Christmas doesn't BEGIN until Christmas day. Maybe I can start having my perfect Christmas on Christmas day and in the real 12 days of Christmas after.

Until then, I'm strapping on my seat belt and trying to finish the roller coaster ride. Six more days of it to go! Then....maybe I'll do a little baking.