2012 in review

As 2012 closes I'm left pondering the last 12 months... the highs, the lows, and the in-betweens.

B and I celebrated our 1st anniversary in July. When I think of our first anniversary my immediate thought is "Thank GOD for prayer!" :) Yes. we struggled a bit. It's different to be married for the second time around. You kind already know what you want and... what you don't. And you've been on your own and have a little life that works just fine... for you. And then you add an opinionated and stubborn person like myself, married to another very opinionated and stubborn person like himself... well it's a good thing we both prayed through that first year!

As much as we clashed, we mashed really well too. We blended, we bent, we c.o.m.p.r.o.m.i.s.e.d (ugh!) and we still managed to wrap up the year with lots more laughs then tears! :)

The kiddos all have birthdays in the fall so that makes things a bit of a scheduling nightmare. We had three parties within 2 weeks. This mama was tired! But the kids seemed to have fun (yay!) and our place stayed intact (double yay!). We now have a 6, 11, and 14 year old. That's a bit freaky isn't it?

My baby started kindergarten this year. Kindergarten. How did that happen? The first day of school was not my favorite. Have you ever seen someone feed lions? Those lions just grab that meat and devour it... that's kinda how I felt leaving my baby this fall (he was the meat, in case you didn't get that analogy). My baby. In the school world with all those mean kids. Well... turns out after a few weeks, my baby can hold his own (let's just leave it at that!).

I celebrated my 32nd birthday in August and truth be told, it freaked me out a bit. I don't feel 32. I don't know what 32 feels like, but it's not fitting me all that well. I don't feel like I look like others who are 32 (I'm talking celebrities at this point - maybe not the best comparison!). My parents weren't/aren't real big on numbers, so I'm not going to worry about it too much.

2012 was also the year my husband finally met my parents. This was a big deal because you see... B is a city boy and I am not from the city (neither are my parents). So... I loaded up the car and headed to Canada with my three favorite pip squeaks and for 23 hours, we laughed, yelled, smelled, and ate in a tin box on wheels. It was SO fun! B joined us later (via an airplane) and met the fam. Everyone hit it off and my nightmares subsided. Yay! We got to do some stand up paddling, kayaking, swimming, hiking, eating, duck feeding, and island relaxing. Glorious! There's no place like home.

This year Mama B also moved to the area (across the street to be exact). What a blessing. I love having her here! She's fabulous. Loving, gracious, calm, patient, funny... She's just a wonderful person to have around!

I was also able to share my testimony with my sister this year and in that same arena, I've been more bold and open with my faith, my walk with Jesus and my love for Him with others as well (maybe that whole getting older thing has its perks!).

Personally, I feel like I'm growing into who God wants me to be. Sure... I'm still a full blown mess, but I'm a mess who is more grounded in her identity. Who has an opinion based on life experiences, who loves freely, who forgives easily and who's excited for another super duper exciting year!

Women's Ministry

I've taken a big step recently.

I've accepted the role of Women's Ministry Director (leader?) at my church.

It's a big deal in all kinds of ways. It's something I'm passionate about and I am very jazzed about the whole thing.

I'll admit it. I'm nervous. Because what if I fail? My schedule is a mad house but I also believe that we make room in our lives for the things that are important to us. The things that are priorities and for me, faith and women... they are one of my priorities.

So here I go... modifying some things, bringing up new things... trying to energize a group of women who have mad house schedules but who love the Lord and want to serve His women. It's going to have some challenges, but if you knew these women, you'd be impressed and excited.

Pray for us in this endeavor!

Adjusting my sails

So here's a little secret about me...

When I have a plan, I'm like a dog with a bone. And if you take that bone away from the dog... the dog will growl... and maybe even bite (not too hard).

It's one of my many, many flaws.

I make the plan. I stick to the plan. You want to change the plan? Um... nope. The plan is the plan. So it can't be changed. Sometimes the plan is only in my head and was never voiced out loud. I get that. But the plan should not be changed.

Ugh! I can't tell you how my insides feel when the plan is changed. It doesn't feel good. It feels gross. I want to throw myself down on the ground and throw a big old wobbly (fancy English word for tantrum - it sounds better when I say wobbly, though, doesn't it?). But I can't do that. Cause I'm a grown up woman (or so they say) and grown up women are supposed to be mature. So what I do is one of two things: 1) the silent treatment or 2) get very very snippy. Sometimes the silent treatment turns into snippy.

It's a problem. It's one I've given to God many times but one I seem to like to pick back up and carry around. It's annoying... for both of us. God and me. Plans change, always. I pray I can see plans as something fluid instead of something so concrete. It would make life easier for me and my family. It's just part of my ever constant struggle with control.

So there it is. Adjusting my sails, daily... sometimes by the moment. Letting go of my ideas and opening myself up to others'.

It's a good thing.

Kind

Kind.

1 chiefly dialect : affectionate, loving

2 a : of a sympathetic or helpful nature

   b : of a forbearing nature : gentle

   c : arising from or characterized by sympathy or forbearance <a kind act>
My word for 2013. I want to be kind... to myself, to my body, to my schedule, to you.

Life is good

The entire purpose of starting this blog was to get my thoughts out of my head and on "paper" where I could better process them. And three years later, it's still that. The way I process.

I've been re-reading some of my blog and I see that most of my thoughts are incredibly sad or what to me seems, dark and it's a bit amusing because I'm not at all either of those things.

I am surrounded by amazingly beautiful things. I am content. I am full of life. I am an optimist. Love abounds. Peace is a staple.

I suppose I say all this to input a bit of good and light in my writings.

Today we made a birthday cake for Jesus... we decorated for His birthday party. We worshiped, we ate barbecue, we snuggled, we watched football and we did what we love to do best of all, we loved on each other.

Yep. Life is good.

Demons and Hope

The shooting in Connecticut a little over a week ago shook this nation to the core.

I prayed. I cried. I talked. I wrestled with God’s gift of free will.

This man and others just like him (male and female) who choose to do such things and others that violate innocent people have either before or after their capture, been deemed “mentally unstable”. Sometimes it’s labeled as schizophrenic, bipolar, depression, and the list goes on…  I don’t disagree with those labels but I feel that as society and history has evolved we may have missed another label.

The word “demon” is mentioned nearly 50 times throughout the Bible. People who offered sacrifices to demons (sometimes their children), Jesus casting out demons from people… demons were alive and well during Jesus’ time here on earth. They were alive and well before Him and I believe they are alive and well now. I believe that the reality of demonic possession has been minimized with words like “mental instability” or “personality disorder”. I can’t be sure that those things are a complete demonic possession but I am sure that the demon has a grasp on them, a very solid grasp.

I agree with many that as a society (not just a country), we have chosen to push God out of our schools, out of our government and, at times, out of our homes. Where God is not, Satan is. We’ve allowed him and his demons into our minds and souls with certain music, movies and games. Satan is sly and smooth, we haven’t even noticed. It’s a slow fade. We’ve worshiped him time and time again by claiming “freedom”. We have given in to him so much that it’s not even a fight anymore. And he likes it.

He is laughing at the catastrophe on Friday. He is laughing at us for pinning the blame on this or that. He is laughing at our weak minds and our weak thoughts. And while he’s laughing, he’s grabbing up a few more to use in his plan.

I believe in guardian angels. I believe they walk around us and watch over us and take us when Christ instructs them and it’s naïve of me to believe Satan doesn’t have his team of demons working their way through us trying to undo the good of Christ.

It’s up to us. Individually. To take up our cross daily. To fight the fight every second of every day. We have been given a gift to fight it. He constantly gives us a way out, we just have to choose it. He gives us a hope.

Cling in it.
In times of despair.
In times of fear.
In times of anxiety.
In times of frustration.
Cling to the Hope that is in Christ Jesus.

It's the most wonderful time...

Christmas is coming! Christmas is coming! Happy birthday, Jesus! Christmas is coming!

I loooove this time of the year (imagine I just said that in a sing-songy voice)!

I love seeing the Salvation Army bell ringers. I love the constant Christmas music on the radio. I love the cool, crisp weather. I love shopping for gifts for my loved ones. I love making sweet yummy goodness. I love the beautiful holiday spirit that seems to make everyone's step a little lighter. There's a reason it's the most wonderful time of the year.

Every year I stress about gifts and whether or not people will like them. I'm horrible at remembering what people want and I ask for a list a few weeks before. And... they get what's on the list. But this year I have an iPhone (we have a slight love affair the two of us). One of the most awesomest things about my iPhone is the calendar App. Seriously. How did I function without hat App before? But the other is this really cool App where I can take notes... in my case, make lists. Lists upon lists of all kinds of things (trust me, it can get a little out of hand). So throughout the year (well, since I got the phone), I have been typing in what I've heard the kiddos, the hubs, and friends/family have mentioned. I have a list of things they really wanted or thought was "so cool". How stinkin' awesome is that, my friend? I'm going to kill it this year (here's to hoping!).

We'll see if my little plan has worked on the 25th at about 6:08am (you know, after we leisurely wake up and open gifts).

On top of the gifts, the kids and I decided we're making Jesus a red and green checkerboard birthday cake. Normally we just stick to the box, keep it simple and slap on some icing, but this year, we're putting in a little extra effort. It's going to be awesome!

Our Christmas Eve menu will include shrimp, s'mores, baklava, crab dip, and veggies. What can I say? We have a pretty random family.

There are so many things I'd like to do before Christmas, but as I get older (it's happening and I can't stop it...) I'm learning that I can't do it all and still have fun. So I'm picking and choosing and letting the rest of the plans fizzle quickly.

I love hearing what others have planned. It's a beautiful thing this upcoming birthday party, isn't it?

He whispers

Today I heard of two women I know who filed for divorce. I heard about broken relationships within a family. I heard about a man being let go for inappropriate behavior. And I wish I could say this was an anomaly, but it's not.

It's been very clear to me within the last few weeks that Satan is winning. I know he won't win in the end, but it's kind of like an arm wrestling match when your opponent has you thisclose to the table but then you whip it back up and win. That's kinda how I imagine Armageddon being. God's gonna whip Satan back where he belongs. But until then... the dude thinks he's got the match. And so he goes...

He whispers lies in our ears. He continuously works on weakening our spirit. He makes temptations we never would have fallen for 3 months before seem incredibly delicious.

He is very very good at his job. I know this because he's gotten me a few times. He's whispering right now. He makes it all seem good, real good.

And in those times when the last thing I want to do is talk to the One who can hear my ugly thoughts, I do. I think my thoughts are ugly and mean and vindictive (and they are), He whispers that my heart is beautiful, my soul is cleansed and that hope has been restored.

Satan will whisper in your ear today, tomorrow and until you find your home in Heaven. He will try to drag you down. He will tell you that divorce is easier. That flirting with your coworker is harmless. That doing it "one time" isn't a sin, it's just curiosity. He will tell you what you want to hear. Remember, sweet friend, that he's the enemy. Run. Run as far away from him as possible and run to Him who has known you before your birth. Run to Him who has plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

To you...

To you my sweet...

You’ve been on my heart and mind lately and, like you, I can express my heart in writing more than I can in words.

You mentioned a few times that you have never felt loved. It breaks my heart for you and for those who have truly loved and still love you.

Sometimes we get stuck in looking at the ways we’ve been failed by those who we trust and see it as being unloving, but what we should really do is look at the way they have helped us succeed in areas we may never have been able and see their love. I, like you, often fall into that trap. “If he really loved me, he would…” or “If they really loved me they wouldn’t have…”… but then I think about my own self and the way that I’ve let so many people down in my actions, my thoughts, my words. I am not perfect. I do not love my children and my husband and everyone else, the way they deserve or want to be loved. I love them the only way I can, with my broken, imperfect heart. I give them my all, knowing that it’s not enough. It’s never going to be enough.

When I first moved here, I thought I had it all figured out. 18 years old, husband, a decent place to live, a great job, people who loved me… and who can forget… FREEDOM. As the years passed and I got older, and marriage got harder, the job required more of me… and that freedom I longed for seemed less important, I found myself searching for something else to fill that ache in my heart. I tried lots of different things to help me with this void and to make a long story short, I found it. I found it to the One who has always had my back. The One who had been waiting for me. I found it in the arms of Jesus. That same one we learned about in school. That same one we disregarded in high school. I found it in Him who created me (I knew you before I formed you in your mother's womb. - Jeremiah 1:5). This might sound like crazy mumbo jumbo to you and trust me, I get that, and I’ve been there. But the more digging I did, the more I read and listened to my pastor the more I was convinced this Jesus, was God who came down as a real man, with real skin, who lived a sinless life, who fulfilled over 400 prophecies (things that were predicted in the Old Testament that the “Messiah” would do when He came to save us) and who CHOSE to die on the cross so that I would not go to hell. Hell in the Bible is a place of future punishment and the final destination for those who don’t believe and trust in Jesus. It is described in the Bible using different terms such as eternal fire, outer darkness, a place of weeping and torment, the lake of fire, the second death, unquenchable fire. The most terrifying reality of hell is that it will be a place of complete, unending separation from God. Because of His sacrifice, I get to be with Him in heaven (For God so loved the world that He gave his only son so that we might not perish (die) but have eternal life. - John 3:16). His death on the cross for my sins, made me realize that I had much more to be sorry about then I had to be angry about. It’s not only the forgiveness of my sins that made me commit to Him. It was the fact that our God offers up grace, forgiveness, mercy, healing. He knows every single thing I think about (said or unsaid!) and He loves me anyway. (I am the good shepherd; I know my own sheep, and they know me. –John 10:14). He loves me with extra weight and He loves me when I’m thinner. He loves me when I wear makeup and He loves me when I haven’t showered. He wants nothing from me but for me to love Him and to love others. He loves me.  And He loves you, too.

I say all this to tell you that there may be times when you are feeling unloved or unappreciated or like no one hears you, but someone does hear you. Always. He wants you to talk to Him. And He wants to help.

I’m off my soap box now and if you want to talk more about Jesus, I’d love to… you just have to let me know.

So many people love you. But those people, they are sinful and imperfect and broken by their past, just like you and just like me. They have made mistakes. They have pulled when they should have pushed, stood when they should have sat and yelled when they should have whispered. And they will continue to do that. They are human. Give them a chance. Open up your heart to them. Living without using your heart, it isn’t living. It’s surviving. You deserve more than survival. You deserve a life. One that is full of laughter and love and hope.

I know that right now all seems lost. That life doesn’t seem fair and uncertainty surrounds you. I wish I was there so I could hug on you and listen in person to your fears and worries. I can’t imagine my life without you. I know of lots of people who can’t imagine their lives without you. We’re family.  We need each other.

I love you to pieces and your pain is my pain. I am going to pray like crazy for peace in your heart and mind, for the healing of your heart, and for the joy of truly knowing Jesus.

Big, bad, ugly baggage

“What it would be like if your parents had divorced?”

He’s a thinker. And he makes me think as hard or as hard as him.

“I think I would have lived with my mom full time. And I would have seen my dad every other weekend. And that he would come see me at my ice skating shows and my other activities. And I guess I would have split my holidays with them. I think it would have been really similar to how your schedule works with this divorce… and… it would have sucked to have to split my time between my parents.”

There. Truth.

I get it. I get that it’s painful and it hurts and it’s not fair. I get that he wants us all in the same house. Cause that’s what I wanted to. And… if I’m truthful, sometimes it’s crazy painful that our family is split up.

Sometimes I think I should have sucked it up and stayed in and fought some more. But then, past all the emotions, reality sets in. And I know. I know why we’re split up. And I know why I chose this path for us. It’s not the best path… but it was the best one I could give them.

So here we are… 3.5 years later, wadding through the gunk of it all. It does stink. Big time. There are moments of pain. There are moments of clarity. And there are moments that for a few minutes, we don't even notice the sting of divorce.

But then there are weekends like the ones with which he is struggling. Times of growth and of understanding. Times when he asks more, cries more, questions more. It's in those times that I feel the most helpless. The most guilty. Guilty about things I know in my head I should let go, but my heart and soul won't let me. Will I always feel this way?

I am in such a good place in my marriage. We're all 5, learning to grow through this and in this. We are learning to be a family... and we're doing it with all of our big, bad, ugly baggage.

Wife of the year

I took a long leisurely bath this evening. I relaxed, listened to music, and thought about my upcoming European vacation.

Oh, who am I kidding?

I took a long overdue bath because baths are when I bleach the stash, shave the legs and scrub the dead skin off my feet. ALL of which has been about 2 weeks delinquent.

Tomorrow's B's birthday.
I do what I can.

Happy birthday, babe!

Grace and pain

Grace, grace, God's grace.... Grace that is greater than all our sins.

I need more grace these days.
I thought I had figured this one out. Given it to God. Found lots of grace. But it turns out, messing with my kiddo brings out the nasty in me.

I want to throw myself on my baby. Cover him and protect him from the hurts of this world. But I can't.

I can stand by and watch his heart break. I can watch him hurt. I can sit with him, wipe away his tears and listen to his sobs.

The world is broken. It's not fair. It causes us pain. It takes more than it gives.

As I watch him hurt, I teach. I teach him that his refuge is whole and real and good and love. That He wants us to surrender our pain and doubts to Him. That He takes it and makes it good. So good. If we'll let Him.

I pray he lets Him.

Recommit {again}

It's Friday and I'm watching 2 of my 3 kids playing at the local gymnastics place.

Time is flying. Too fast. So fast that it leaves my body feeling worn out.

Every week I recommit to spending more time in the Word. More time with God. Resting in Him. But each week I fail. After I put the last kiddo to bed, I don't want to think. Or connect. Or keep my eyes open.

I say a quick prayer. Think about my failure to Him, to me, to us. And I sleep.

Someone once told me that God understands our seasons. Like friends. I can understand that. I believe it. S and I haven't connected in a long time. Our lives are a ridiculous mess of busy. Busy with good stuff, but still too busy for each other.

I understand seasons. But I also understand love.

Relationships need to be nurtured and loved... and this relationship isn't. And my relationship with God is the same. It's stale, at best, and is doing nothing for anyone.

It's out. I said it. My relationship with my Father is not ok. And tonight, on this Friday night on this very last day of November, I recommit to being His with everything in me. Because the truth is... If I'm too busy, too tired, too worn for God and for the relationships I truly treasure... I am not living the life He intended for me.

Dreaming and praying

Before I start, let me tell you that I KNOW God has a plan. I know that the plan has much to do with me growing while my prayers are being answered. I believe, have faith, know in my heart that God will bless us with a house in the future. I am trying so hard to rest in that knowledge.

But then I get all crazy ridiculous wanting a bookshelf to put my books on (instead of having them on the floor underneath my old radio) and I want a nice dresser to put by the front door to put scarves and mitts and other outdoor accessories. I'd like to have some wall space to hang up the ridiculously cute kiddo pictures I have in a box in the closet.

It all comes down to this. I want to nest. It's like this little wiggle worm in my head that's going nuts with thoughts and ideas and it's got no where to go. So I am "Pinning" like crazy. And I am dreaming... dreaming of our future home... and trying to enjoy our temporary maintenance free home.

My Testimony

This morning at church our pastor asked us to sometime, this week, write our Testimony.

Testimony. Ugh. I hate that word. It's so church-y and the sound of it surely makes non-church goers want to run the other way. Fellowship... that's another word that screams "church". Not that there's anything wrong with church but sometimes throwing out words only people from a church understand or that aren't said in everyday conversations can be intimidating... and I digress...

Anyway... so here it is. My Testimony. Or in other words... how I got to be a Christian. How I dropped my old life in exchange for this new one.

I grew up in a small town in Canada. There were the Catholics and then those other ones (Protestants).

I was raised Catholic. Church every Sunday. Baptism, First Communion, Confession, Confirmation. Amen.
I didn't grow up reading the Bible, or praying before meals, or being encouraged to memorize scripture, or asking questions (challenging) about the Bible. I'm not saying it was right or wrong. I'm just saying, it was. Here was my take on God. God is watching you. EVERYWHERE. He hears you, He knows what you are thinking, and He is not impressed.

So that was my God.

I moved to Kansas City and my husband didn't have much interest in church but he was game to go to mine. I didn't want to keep him from his faith (the other one) so we decided to swap weekends. One weekend his church, the next mine. Thing is... he didn't really have a church so we had to try a few out. Then my sister-in-law invited me to "her" church. You know... the other church. So we went. For a 4th of July thing.

I was curious. It was "weird". They all seemed happy. And lively. Very lively.

I thought we could give it a shot on a regular Sunday. And I left even more curious. I wanted to skip my Sunday in exchange for a Sunday there, again.

I learned that God loves me. Tons. He knows my heart and He's sticking around. He wants the very best for me. He hears my cries, my hurts, my joys and He is right there with me. He won't leave me. He listens to me. He thinks I'm amazing. He wants to have a relationship with me. He wants good things for me. He hurts when I make bad choices and still... He loves me. Always, He loves me.

One Sunday night I found myself crying. I couldn't stop. My husband asked me what was going on, I told him. "I found it. I found my faith. This is where I belong. And I'm scared. I'm scared my parents will hate me for it. That my family won't understand. That it will be a point of contention for the rest of my life. But I feel it in my gut. This is it."

In December of 2002, I was baptised once again. Fully immersed in the other church. And I've never looked back.

Was it a sore spot with my family? You bet. Is it still? Yep.  But I wouldn't change a thing.

He loves me. I feel it in my bones. In my soul.

I'm not sure I would have felt that had I chosen to remain in the Catholic church. Maybe. It really doesn't matter. Because I do now.

I am saved. I fellowship. I serve. I pray. I sin. I forgive. I am forgiven. I love. I have a testimony.

I would have told you...

Many weeks have passed and so many times I have said "oh! I need to write that down. (Blog)" And I forgot... or as time passed it didn't seem so important anymore. But now I wish I had.

Because if I had I would have told you that...

... I felt defeat and such huge ache when "my" guy lost the election. And I pray for the guy who did win.
... I am frustrated with some decisions that were made (which I had/have no control over) because they hurt my kiddos. And I pray that I can be a light.
... I have fallen way off the Weight Watcher wagon and right now, I'm not so sure I want back on. And I pray that whatever happens, I finally find peace.
... I have never felt this unsure about parenting in my life. And I pray and pray and pray...
... I have fallen in love with my kiddos over and over and over again these past few weeks. And I pray that it happens this often all the time.
... I spent these past 5 days home with my family and I have never felt more sure that I truly am the most blessed woman in the world. And I pray the feeling remains.

I will be more proactive in blogging because for me, not only is it therapy... but by keeping track of my ups and downs and all arounds, I can look back on where I've been and where I'm headed and in the end... I'll know how I got there.

11 years already

11 years ago, my life changed forever. I forever changed. I grew up that warm November day. I became a mom. More specifically, your mom.

I remember seeing you for the first time. Your little cone shaped head. Your dark brown hair and red full lips. You cried and cried and all I wanted to do was hold you. Because somewhere inside me, there grew this immense feeling of protection. I wanted to hold you because I wanted to protect you. I needed you near me. I needed your skin to touch mine. I needed to feel your little breath and ease your sadness.

And still... 11 years have gone by and I feel the same way and more, much more.

I watch you sleep and I don't see the 11 year old you have become but that little baby with the crinkled dry skin and that cone shaped head with the huge hickey on the top.

You are growing up so fast and it scares me to death. Time is running out. I won't have you near me much longer. You are growing, maturing, become the young man who God has intended you to be. I have the privilege of gettign a front row ticket to it.

At 11, you are picking up the fine art of sarcasm (maybe a little too well!) and you love to make everyone laugh. You are such a beautiful young man. You have this amazingly sweet heart. You love hard. You have strong opinions. You are inquisitive. You are figuring out this big bad world... where you fit in it... and how God's hand works in it all.

My sweet little peanut, I sometimes find looking back on the moments your presence has created in my life. These bittersweet moments are the reasons I prayed so hard for you. You own a big old chunk of my heart. And I never want it back.

I love you, Peanut!
I wish you a very happy 11th birthday!
Mom
xoxo

Vote

Today you get to vote. I’m an “alien” in this country and as much as I love all of the privileges this country affords me, it draws the line at voting… and so it should.

I’m not sure how you vote. I know how I would vote.

I would vote based on my values. I would vote for the person whose values most mimicked mine. That person wouldn’t necessarily have to have the same faith as me… or even have a faith, but I believe to have some of my basic values, the candidate would have to have a faith (in my God preferably).

 I would vote for the person who most represented my core beliefs.

Because after the dust settles and reality sets in, when the high has vaporized, that all that’s really left are a person’s values. What they believe in within their gut, what they believe to be right and good and true. And I need that person’s guts to match mine.

I would never want to be a president (or Prime Minister in my case). The decisions, the stress, the verbal beatings you get every single day based on information you may or may not be able to divulge. The spotlight on your faults, your mistakes, your short comings. Your family’s hiccups, their clothes, their words, their behavior… forever scrutinized.

I wouldn’t want it.

And I pray today and will continue to pray for tonight’s winner, for protection over his heart, his ego and his love of country. That when the last confetti has fallen, that his heart is pure and whole. That you, me, my children are in the forefront of his mind. That his decisions are carried by the want to make things right and good and strong again.

Because in the end…

Sometimes He knocks the "cocky" out of me

I get cocky… and when that happens all kinds of things start falling apart and in that instant I realize I’ve failed to put my trust in Him. I’ve taken on my little world and I’ve left no place for Him. For His love, for His grace, for His direction… for His guidance.

And so I fall on my knees and I ask for forgiveness. I ask Him to heal my heart of this ugly pride. I ask Him to fill my heart with His Words, His truth.

There are a lot of rocks that we are faced with every single day. Most seem manageable. They aren’t too heavy and some of them are shed as we walk through the days and weeks. As we carry the rocks more are added and because we’ve been able to build our strength through carrying the smaller ones, we think the big ones aren’t going to make that much of a difference. We’re strong. We can handle it.  And then we realize that we were never meant to carry them. Our bodies aren’t made to carry them. We were made to let Him carry them.

Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.

Matthew 11:28

And He has said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness." Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ's sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong.

2 Corinthians 12:9-10

The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, My God, my rock, in whom I take refuge; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.

Psalm 18:2

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort; who comforts us in all our affliction so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.

2 Corinthians 1:3-4

The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song.

Psalm 28:7

A path of good

29 months ago I met you for the first time and I didn’t really think much of your future… of who you would become, or how your sweet spirit would evolve. And now I do. 29 short months later I think about all that and more. I hate to see you hurt. My heart swells when I hear you share your life with me.

I think about you every single day. I wonder how you are doing. How you felt about your latest volleyball game. I wonder how your friendships are treating you. I think about the upcoming weekend and how we’ll all be together again and how much I love those times.

You are now 14 years old. You have grown SO much in these past 29 months… not just physically either! Your heart is softer. Your emotions are more easily shared. You are figuring out your likes and dislikes. Your ever changing interests keep us all on our toes.

But some things never change. Your love for Jesus. Your heart for the weak, broken and poor. Your mind is filled with about a million ideas on how you’ll change the world now and in the future. That, my sweet A, is very clear to me. You will be a world changer. You will make a difference in the lives of others. As you grow, you will leave a path of good. I know this as a fact… because you have already done it in my life.

Happy birthday chica!

I love you very much and I am blessed to be part of your path of good!

Renee

I just don't have time to...

I just don't have time to (fill in the blank)...

I find myself saying that when adding one more thing to my schedule seems overwhelming, impossible, absolutely absurd. Or I say it to brush off the moments when I feel inadequate.

I don't have time to make a healthy meal from scratch every single night of the week.
I don't have time to spend hours researching this or that will cause this or that to happen to my kids.
I don't have time to have my kids be involved in 2 different activities each.
I don't have time to exercise 2 hours a day.
I don't have time... I don't have time... I don't have time...

The truth of it all is that I do have time. I have plenty of time. I have 24 hours every single day. Most of those days, I'm working a full time, outside the home, job but... I have time. I know this because I do plenty of things. I'm a very busy woman.

I've been thinking about where I spend my time, how I spend it and with whom I spend it. And when I hear someone tell me they don't have time to go to church or watch TV or exercise or serve, what I want to say to them is "it's not that you don't have time it's that it's not and may never be, a priority for you".

You might love to run 5 miles a day. Fabulous! You might make your own butter. Amazing. You might clean your baseboards every single Friday night while singing praises to Jesus. Kudos to you! That is not my thing, but that doesn't make me or you any better or worse... it just makes us different.

My values, my priorities, my goals and my passions are different from yours. And all of those things have evolved during the course of my life. And yours do too.

So when someone asks you to join something or asks you if you've read the most recent study on how eating too much fruit will prevent your children from fully reaching their academic potential (totally sarcastic), don't tell them you don't have time. Tell them the truth.

It's just not a priority right now.

So I fell off the wagon...

I've fallen off the grounded identity platform again...
Ugh! That really makes me mad... mad at myself for allowing it to happen.

You see I struggle with pride. That's my big bad dark yucky struggle. I hate it. My pride comes from having to feel good enough. If I do things well, then I will be accepted and when I'm doing it well I don't give it to whom it's due... I hold onto it so that I might feel just a little better about myself, my accomplishments just a little longer.
I have been in recovery but just when I thought I had overcome that ugly thing, it reared it's ugly head and on Thursday night I found myself back to square one.

You see, I try so hard to get this life right. My goals are just like anyone else's - be a good wife, mom, employee, friend, etc... but overtime it starts to consume me:

"Oh! You're so patient!" - must be more patient
"Wow! You turned this project around so quickly!" - turn the next one around even more quickly
"You're place is so clean." - must always be clean when this person comes over

I have to be enough and more. I will be worthy. Of what? My husband's love, my kids' adoration, my friends acceptance... the list goes on and on.

And when I fail, when I get criticized in the places that I'm trying harder to "be better", I fall apart. I break. And I broke. And it wasn't pretty. I'm still trying to put me back together. Trying to process my fall and pull together a recovery plan.

Once again I find myself climbing back onto my grounded identity. The one that tells me:

I am accepted...
John 1:12	I am God's child.
John 15:15	As a disciple, I am a friend of Jesus Christ.
Romans 5:1	I have been justified.
1 Corinthians 6:17	I am united with the Lord, and I am one with Him in spirit.
1 Corinthians 6:19-20	I have been bought with a price and I belong to God.
1 Corinthians 12:27	I am a member of Christ's body.
Ephesians 1:3-8	I have been chosen by God and adopted as His child.
Colossians 1:13-14	I have been redeemed and forgiven of all my sins.
Colossians 2:9-10	I am complete in Christ.
Hebrews 4:14-16	I have direct access to the throne of grace through Jesus Christ.
	I am secure...
Romans 8:1-2	I am free from condemnation.
Romans 8:28	I am assured that God works for my good in all circumstances.
Romans 8:31-39	I am free from any condemnation brought against me and I cannot be separated from the love of God.
2 Corinthians 1:21-22	I have been established, anointed and sealed by God.
Colossians 3:1-4	I am hidden with Christ in God.
Philippians 1:6	I am confident that God will complete the good work He started in me.
Philippians 3:20	I am a citizen of heaven.
2 Timothy 1:7	I have not been given a spirit of fear but of power, love and a sound mind.
1 John 5:18	I am born of God and the evil one cannot touch me.
	I am significant...
John 15:5	I am a branch of Jesus Christ, the true vine, and a channel of His life.
John 15:16	I have been chosen and appointed to bear fruit.
1 Corinthians 3:16	I am God's temple.
2 Corinthians 5:17-21	I am a minister of reconciliation for God.
Ephesians 2:6	I am seated with Jesus Christ in the heavenly realm.
Ephesians 2:10	I am God's workmanship.
Ephesians 3:12	I may approach God with freedom and confidence.
Philippians 4:13	I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.

I am real. I make mistakes. I fall apart. I am not perfect. I don't want to be and I never will be.
I am His and He is mine.

A 6 year old kinda day

This morning you woke me up at 5:24am because you are six. It’s your birthday and you’ve been counting down the days. You love special days, all kinds, but today is your favorite.

Today we celebrate you, Monkey.  You and who you are.

You have grown so much over this past year. You have a funny little sense of humor and are catching on to sarcasm very quickly. You are just as determined as the day you were born. You know what you want, you know how you want it and you'll tell us just how it is.

You love to cuddle, big hugs, tickles. To have your "in-between-your-toes" rubbed. Our special "I love your..." nightly ritual. You love books, cooking, rocking out to Bon Jovi, superheroes and games on my iPhone. You are all boy, all the time.

You've had a busy year.

You jumped off the high dive at the pool. You went stand-up paddling, you hiked the entire 8k, you played soccer, and more... your year has been full of activities and you've faced them all with courage and excitement. I love that about you. I love that you love adventures. That you are willing to try new things, sometimes with a little coaxing, sometimes all on your own.

Your blond curls are the envy of many. You switch back and forth on whether to keep your hair shorter or longer, but you definitely have an opinion.

This August you started kindergarten. You were so excited, you talked about it for months... On the first day, you walked to school excitedly, not wanting or needing me. But as soon as we stepped in, you grabbed my hand and nervously fidgeted. You didn't want me out of your sight. As I was leaving you said "I really don't want to be here." I knew you did. But that you were just scared. That whenever you are faced with new situations you become anxious. That it takes you a while to warm up to people and new routines. You like the predictable.

Imaginative, adventurous, silly, loving, determined, intelligent. Those are the 6 words I'd use to describe you!

Happy birthday my sweet little guy!

Momma loves you so very much!

Sitting in it, yet again.

Just when I think I've moved past the hurt, it comes back and over takes me. Sometimes it's my mind reliving the pain and sometimes it comes through in a physical kind of way.

This time it came out physically. I found myself at a stop light sobbing uncontrolably because it hurt. That hurt came back and took me over like something I hadn't felt in a few years. I sobbed and didn't try and stop it from coming because the tears were a form of relief.

I know it's because the topic has been bobbing around in my head for the last few weeks. But dang it! I wish it would go away. It stinkin' hurts!

So instead I did as D would have wanted me to do. I sat in that stinking hurt. I sat in it and I thought about the days after the initial blow. When my body wouldn't physically respond. When my mind went numb. When I could barely take care of my little guy and I struggled with the one growing inside me. When all I could was hold on to His hope... His plan for me (Jer 29:11) and focus on what was ahead.

I took one step at a time... and it hurt. I breathed it in. The hurt, the pain, the rejection. And I sat in that crud.

And now... years later, I still sit in it from time-to-time, like I did last Friday at the stop light. But now my future is more clear. More positive. It holds a hope I can see and embrace and enjoy.

So yes. I still sit in that hurt because pushing it away doesn't heal it. Pushing it away gives it control and I refuse to give THAT control.

He is my control. He is my hope. He is my faith.

Achy bodies and filled souls

This past weekend I went back to the heart of it all... the world of large events.

By the end my feet were killing me (NEVER wear new shoes on event day... duh!), my body ached everywhere, I sampled some seriously addicting treats and my soul was filled to the brim.

My soul, it turns out, needs a big event every once in a while.

This event was different though... because it was one created without S. It was odd. Weird. And made me a bit cranky. S and I don't speak during event day. Rarely. We just do. We can sense what the other needs and we do. We don't ask questions, we don't wonder what to do next, we just do. So doing without her was odd. Cause it wasn't really doing. It was a lot of guessing... and wondering... and assuming. And getting cranky cause people weren't reading my mind.

It was harder than usual. But it was still wonderful and grand.

The next one is in the spring... and I have my list of "lessons learned" and the questions I need to ask to make the next one a smoother one and more fluid.

For me, it's touching lives. It's standing in the back of the room and watching. Watching the arms raised and the souls filled. It's about the fellowship and the giggles. It's the connection people make because a God so mighty and fierce was able to work past my hang ups and open doors for me to do this very thing again... with different people. Women who push me in different ways. Who make me uncomfortable and make me question my motives.

It is good. It is very good.

My tinsel filled adventure

I call it my hair tinsel but what it really is, is gray hair. White actually. Slowly sprouting here and there.

I thought this part of life would scare me. That this sign of "aging" would make me panic. But it doesn't.

It makes me grateful.

Grateful of the life I've lived and the life I have yet to live.

Grateful for the youth and hyper world that is slipping away slowly to be replaced by maturity and peace (one can only hope!).

Some ask if I will erase these signs with some youthful bottle of "color" and I reply honestly that I don't know.

That's part of what that tinsel has shown me. That I don't know. I never have. Even during times when I thought I had, I hadn't. And I still don't. Is that a sign of maturity? To know you don't know... And that you really don't want to know. Because if I knew then I wouldn't.

I wouldn't anything because knowing about the adventure is not at all as much fun as living it.

So for now the tinsel stays. It's mine. It's part of my unknown, crazy, heartbreaking, ridiculously blessed adventure.

He knows your heart

I just wish I could take away your doubts. I wish your deep thinking head would clear itself from the anxiety it holds dear.

I wish my head wasn't filled with terror as you share your heart. Because then my voice would be more calm and sure. My heart wouldn't be straining to hear His Word during this crucial time.

I want you to know that He is patient. That He is loving. That He hears your pain and He hears your confusion. That He waits with open arms for the day you are more sure.

Know that this will happen many many times during your life. It's a good thing. It's a growth thing.

I will listen to you. I will pray for you. And like Him, I will show you grace, patience and an open heart. Because like Him, I am head over heels in love with you.

Courage and faith

My aunt died last night. She was a beautiful woman with such a spunk for life and love.
She will be missed by many.

Her death made me think of her eternity. What's happening right now?

It is written:

"Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." Matthew 28:19-20

Go, make disciplines... tell them all about God's amazing glory, grace, love... save them from the alternative...

I STINK at this. I am nervous and scared. The boldness I profess to fellow Christians all but disappears. I can profess to my sister and brother-in-law (I have), I can to my nephews, to my parents (to a certain extent) but then the boldness starts slipping. I can to the people who know me now, whom I've met since my move to the USA but the people from back in the day... that is the worst.

What will they think? Will they think I'm a hypocrite because of my past? Will they think I've gone a little nutty now that I'm surrounded by Yankees (their words, not mine! ha!)? What if I show them my passion... show them the true fear I feel for their souls, for their eternity... will they push me away? Will I fail?

Is it my lack of faith? Or my lack of courage? If I had enough faith, would I have enough courage?

If my mind could truly wrap itself around hell and all that it entails... would I be more passionate about their eternal lives?

Would you?

The scariest thing ever

As the kids get older, the more terrified I become.

I am terrified that I am totally messing them up.
That am not taking my responsibility seriously. Or as seriously as I should.

I am the example. I am the one who's words they believe. I am the one who's action they watch and mimic. I have a huge impact on their lives. Their souls. Their everything.

I am their mother.

It's the scariest thing ever.

I find myself repeating to them that I am not perfect. That I make mistakes. That I give it my all but even that's not enough. But we must all rely on God's grace, mercy and love because THAT is enough.

I pray and pray that they feel my love.
That when my words fail, that my love finds their soul.

I am a human with free will and all kinds of sin creeping all over me. I need some serious Jesus and I can only pray that they see my forever love for Him and that that action covers all of my failures and heals the pain I sometimes unwillingly cause their little hearts.

Monday Moment

I made my dentist proud today. I've flossed every single day for 6 months. (TMI?)

I feel very American when I watch my peanut play football.

I want to bake something everyday. That would be very "domestic" of me.

I would love to be a stay-at-home mom, but I find peace in my work-outside-the-home-mom status.

I go to bed exhausted every single night. A day well lived.

I want a few sets of very cool/comfy pajamas.

I love pillows.

I bought a new fall candle and I'm waiting for just the right weather/moment to light it. (weird, I know)

Monday mornings are rough. Monday nights are awesome.

I'm out of random thoughts... For the moment...

Do over

This past week, I have been in a funk.

There's plenty of things To blame it on (and I have!) but I truly believe that I should be carrying around a bigger portion of the blame than I have been. I am choosing to wallow in my own self. I am choosing to be negative in a time when a positive outlook is desperately needed.

Today I will be positive. I will rest in Him and give Him my worries, my anxiety, my fears.

So today I call a "do over".

Where I Am

I am so incredibly happy. Satisfied. Secure. Loved. Blessed.

It's so much easier to see the things that are falling apart but this weekend I've been taking notice of the things that are going right. And there are many. More than I realized.

I am living the American dream.

I have a husband who is crazy about me and I am madly in love with him too. I have three amazing kids who are happy, healthy and have a love for Jesus that makes my heart sing.

I am surrounded by loving friends and family. I have a support system most people only dream of.

This isn't my doing. No. This kind of thing can only come from my Father. And I can't thank him enough.

Mission Field

I’ve been reading this little lady’s blog. It hits my soul each and every time. Her words help me put life into perspective. In other words; it’s awesome and so is she.

Her words have been deeper and deeper in the past few months. Words that make me think. That makes me refocus on what Jesus is really asking of me and for me.

I want to be Jesus’ hands and feet. I want to be the salt and the light. I want serve, live and lead the Word. And for a long time I thought that meant I needed to do something drastic. That I needed to be serving the church, to be surrounded by my brothers and sister in Christ. But then things didn’t seem to fit… I wanted more. I want to serve there, to be surrounded by the light of other Christians thirsting for His Word but I needed to find something else. So I read the Word, the blog, the books and I prayed. taking time to process it all, I’m concluding that God wants me to be all those things too. That’s what He’s asked of all of us. To be touched and to touch the broken, the lonely, the weak, the poor. But what I didn’t realize is that those people don’t just live in Africa. They aren’t just in the inner-city. As I take a good long look around, I realize they are here in the wealthiest county in Kansas.

The financially wealthy, but broken in spirit.

I'm surrounded by thousands of bronzed skin and bleached smiles. Broken homes and cigarette dreams. People hiding from their pain. Children lost in the shuffle. A county filled with shattered souls. Souls who give of their time and money but do so with empty spirits. I live in the burbs.

I can't ever be 100% sure that this is where I belong because my heart still longs for the inner-city, but I look just upstairs from our apartment and my heart longs to bring that family to Christ. To help those children know just how much their Heavenly Father loves them. To show them His love. And when I think about them, I'm reminded of that one other family... the one family who I can't seem to connect with because it seems appearances are very important to some... and I am determined to give them some Jesus... and then the other family... and then...

There's brokenness and sorrow and I know the secret to healing and joy.

So there you have it. My mission field. Right here. In my apartment complex. At the school. In my workplace. Where I live. My mission field. Your mission field.

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
Psalm 73:26

Opportunities and fears

A little over a week ago, I was given an amazing opportunity... a promotion.

It took me by surprise, the timing of it all. I was shocked and I did what any other professional woman would do when receiving a promotion letter. I giggled and could not stop smiling while thanking my boss profusely.

Yep. I'm a grown up. :)

So now reality has hit. Now I'm left to really wonder what my boss was thinking.

Am I ready for this?

I will be a "supervisor". I will be responsible for people. Grown up people. I will be responsible for the direction of our little group (of 3).

I've been praying. A lot. For direction. For guidance. Asking God if this is all just a dream.
What a blessing. A true blessing.

Thank you God so very much for this amazing opportunity. I am humbled and I pray that I can be the leader that You have called me to be. I pray that I do not lose myself in "corporate America". That who I am today will be who I am tomorrow. I pray that my words, my behavior and my spirit remains Yours.

Sin

I’m very angry right now.

I found out a friend made a very bad choice.

One that will break a family.

One in which a church will be shaken.

One that will prove, once again, the “hypocrisy” of Christians.

I am working through my own disappointment, my own hurt while praying desperately for the affected.

I am forgiven because of Jesus Christ. And so is this person.

My heart screams that it’s not fair but my heart understands that it is.

I will continue to pray, to ask for grace, for my heart to soften and for wounds to heal. I pray for the family. For the children. For their brokenness. That God will use this very sin and create something beautiful from it.

He did it for me.

Pieces of me

It seems that the changes come in clusters. For a while, it seems, life is stagnant… predictable and then… everything changes.  People move. People die. People move back. Relationships start, change, end. It’s constant. It confuses my heart and mind.

What to do with all of this emotional overload. Not know what to do with the relationship changes. People I took for granted. Never thinking about their departure from my life.

It’s these times when I think about what their lives have meant to me. What their smile, their words, their heart… their presence… what that has meant to me. How that transformed me. Forever changed the woman that I am.

They’ve not done anything dramatic. Nothing earth shattering. But that’s the thing. It never is. It’s the little things. It’s the knowledge that that person is a piece of me because of nothing and everything.

I think back on the many lives that have touched my soul. Either for years or for months or even days. People who have been a part of who I’ve become. That’s a really beautiful thing.

You who have touched my life because of your friendship, your relationship, your service with me. You’ve left, will leave… to come back or not. Thank you. You make an impact in my life.

I am who I am because of who you are.

Because getting older does it to me...

Today I celebrate my thirty-second year of life.

As I sit reflecting on what that means to me, I see it means very little. To me anyway. Or for me. I realize that as I grow older my mind shifts away from centering it upon myself and I find myself looking outward at the next 32 (and more years).

Of course, like any other years, I look back on the past year and years and realize how far I've come and how far I have to go. There are so many things that have been done, growth that has been had, but much more is needed.

I want to give more. More of myself. Not more of my time but more of my heart. More of my mind. I want to be present in this world. I want to take the time to breath it in. I want to show others and myself what it means to live fully. Fully for God, fully for my family, fully for others, fully for me.

I'm excited about what life has offered me thus far. What God's plan has brought me through and to.
32 years.

Lovin' this mama stuff

I'm not a huge fan of growing up...

On Thursday I will officially be the mama of a 5th grader and kindergartner. That means that my baby is no longer a "real" baby and my oldest baby will be headed off to college next year... or at least middle school (basically the same thing).

Where did the time go? Where did those long days filled with colic and poop and sleepless nights go?
When did the little body that I rocked to sleep start growing massively long legs and weigh so much?
When did our nights of playing with Little People turn into hours of football practices and soccer games?
When did teaching manners and indoor voices turn into teaching values and ethics?
When did the shoe sizes get bigger, smaller and then bigger?
When does all this growing up happen?

Holding on to the moments.
The chats.
The hugs and kisses.
The minds that need ease.
The hearts that need mending.
The fridge that needs stocking.
The love that never ends.

I love this mama stuff.

The day the tv died

As we get ready for a new school year, we made a decision that will have a big impact on our lives. We will no longer be watching tv on weekdays.

Yep. I heard crickets after the announcement was made.

A lot of this came from our trip to Canada and our time at the cottage. No electricity, no way to WiFi into anything. Glorious. We had time to disconnect from the virtual world and reconnect with the real one. With one another.

I am realistic. It's going to be tough on all of us, me included! Sometimes I love that babysitter. But I love my family way more. Us. Together.

I am hoping that our no-tv days does just that. Re-connect to one another.

The island that made me.

A few weeks have passed since our vacation back home... enough that I can blog about it without having to clean up puddles of tears afterwards.

During our 2 week vacation we were able to do lots of really fun activities; stand-up paddling, hiking, swimming, more hiking, more swimming, paddle boating, relaxing, surprise anniversary party, family, dear friends, late night movies and too much eating. It was wonderful.

This was the very first time that B and A got to meet my folks. I have to admit that I was a bit nervous about how all this would go. B had called to ask my dad if he could marry me before we got engaged, so they had talked but it wasn't like this. This was the real deal. And I must say - it went really well. It was beautiful, really.

We were able to go here...

... my little slice of heaven here on earth...

This is where I spent every single summer weekend during my childhood.
This is where I learned how to squish blood suckers, drive a boat and haul rocks.
This is where I spent days of swimming, tanning (and burning!), pretending, and learning to unplug.
This is where the world faded and peace began.
This was the image I concentrated on during therapy, when I needed to escape to my "safe place".
This is where I connected with my soul.
This is the island that made me.

It's small and cozy and me.
There on the island with my family. A fav for me.

Our world

As you get older, you are seeing the world differently. Your reality is shifting. Things aren't good and wholesome. You see sin. You see what happens to a people who has been given free will.

You see the will to hate.
You see the will to hurt.

I pray through these next few years when your perspective of this world changes, that you will cling to His goodness. That you will choose to see His will, His love, His grace through the world Satan tries so hard to destroy.

His and His alone is the voice of truth. Hold on to it. Lean on it. Learn to feed from it.

What you see is most likely a true reflection of this world. But remember that this world is not ours. Ours is in heaven and it's good and whole and pure. Hold on to that hope. Believe in that love.

An opinion

It's all over the place and I'm sure you've heard all about and you're sick of hearing about it (and no I'm not talking about Kristen and Robert's breakup, although very saddening to a Twilight fan like me) - I'm talking about Dan Cathy's opinion on what a marriage should be. Here's some more info in case you missed it. Slow news week?

I know there are TONS of people, gay and straight, who are in an uproar over his Christian beliefs. So much so that they have decided to boycott his restaurant and make a huge stink about it. They are belittling him, his business, his family, his values.

All this because he has an opinion.
What happened to the "land of the free"?

Mr. Cathy didn't say anything against the homosexual community. He didn't ask that anything be done for or against them. He simply was asked his opinion and he gave it.

From what I've seen, the homosexual community has been fighting for years to be treated in a fair, free and peaceful way. They've been looking for respect. And in all fairness, it's not the entire community who is acting this way, it is my opinion that it's a lot less than we think, there are just some loud screamers.

You don't have to agree with him. You don't have to like him. But respecting his opinion is a mature, grown up and kind thing to do.It's what we try and teach our kids. Tolerance. Respect. Kindness. Anti-bullying.

So if you don't mind, I'm in the opinion that some Chick-Fil-A sounds like a mighty fine idea tonight.

Mr. B and me - 1 year

1 year ago on July 16th, we celebrated our first anniversary... I think.

It was a whirlwind of a day as we packed and got ready to head to the cottage with our kids, my parents, some cousins and a friend. Yep. Very intimate. :)

After over two years of "togetherness" and one year of marriage, you finally got to meet the 'rents and they got to meet the man who stole their daughter's heart.

They finally understood why it is that I love you so much and the millions of reasons that made me fall in love with you and stay in love with you.

I can't say that I've loved every single thing about this past year because well... we're both pretty stinkin' stubborn, however I can say that I wouldn't change it for anything.

This past year we have:

• laughed over the most random things
• loudly discussed some incredibly ridiculous and idiotic topics
• blended together an amazing family
• paid off a large chunk of debt
• purchased a new car
• took a road trip or two
• sat on many hard bleachers while watching kiddo sports
• coached Ry's soccer team together
• grown individually and as a couple spiritually
• loved each other through it all!

Here's to you Mr. B. I love you like crazy!

Ma Tante J

I had to say good bye knowing it was our last. There isn't anything left to do.

I avoided the topic but you brought it up, finding comfort in your plans, your arrangements.

I couldn't say much through my tears. If I could have found my voice, I would have said that I am a very blessed woman to have had you as a sitter for so long. You helped shape me.

You with your confident spirit.
You with your trendy style.
You with your easy laugh.
You with your soft skin that made hugs squishy and comforting.

You had a way of having me try new foods, frustrating my mom and her many failed attempts.

I loved when you made crepes and when you would put peanut butter on a piece of bread, made a heart in it with your finger and sprinkled sugar on the inside. I've made it for myself since but it's never the same.

The minnows, rhubarb, Trigger, Hickory Smoked sticks, soap operas and sleep overs. Memories.

You made my first wedding dress all the while whispering your love and support over a decision I'm sure you weren't fond.

But that's you. Loving, supportive, encouraging, creative, courageous.

I never thought you'd have to go.
I hope you know that as long as I live, a part of you lives in me.

Je t'aime, ma tante.

Road Home

As I drive the many hours towards my childhood home, my roots, I find myself thinking of my life. The past, the present, the future. Highways have a way of doing that, I suppose. Fill minds with thoughts, pressuring the soul to grow, learn, move forward.

We tend to compare children to their parents. "So and so is just like her mom" or "Did you see that? That's the spitting image of her father".

I suppose that's how we begin to create identities for ourselves, our children.

I've been told that I look like my mom but favor my dad when it comes to everything else.

During this last trip I purposefully asked questions that dug a little deeper into my parents' past, specifically, their parents. I wanted to dig further about my roots. My heritage.

I was surprised by the answers. Not the answers specifically but what they stirred in me. Instead of trying to find an identity in the stories, I found an independence I didn't know I longed.

I found that I did indeed have parts of my mom and dad. Personality traits, quirks, etc... But on the flip side there are many things that are mine. Uniquely mine.

I think I feared it before. Who I was. Who I was once I left my country. My family. My roots.

And as I drive the many hours towards my adulthood home, I find myself grieving for the distance that separates me from my family, but joyful in my new found identity.

Vacation

Tomorrow I disconnect for a couple of weeks.

No more phone.
No more email.
No more tv (or very limited).

Freedom.

You, me and the Holy Spirit

The Holy Spirit.

Mine is different than yours. I mean it's the same Holy Spirit but He moves me differently than you.

For a long time I wondered why. Why did I think differently than other people. Christians and non-Christians alike. Some topics I tend to be more legalistic about, some more liberal, and others, completely disconnected. So why is that? Am I a bad person or even Christian because the thought of nursing my kids until they were two made me want to jump off a bridge? Or that I am pro-life but feel no real drive to fight congress or whoever else on this topic?

There are plenty of hot topics I'll discuss with you and I'll share my opinion but my drive to get up and make a difference in some areas, is just non-existent.

Having said all this, those who know me, know that I do have passion and heart for lots and lots of other things and that I serve God and others with all of my heart and soul. I am moved to make a difference in so many ways, that I must physically stop myself from overloading my schedule with worthwhile causes and projects.

So why aren't your priorities, mine? Why am I against letting my boys browse through the lingerie section of a catalog not ok with me, but it might not bother you?Why am I ok with going to a bar but you wouldn't dare?

Because the Holy Spirit that lives in me...it's different than yours. My life experiences, my soul, my core, it's not like yours. The Holy Spirit guides me, tries to shield me from things that may hurt me. That may open doors, I may have a hard time closing.

Understanding this has made my head less heavy.

We don't have to agree. We aren't better Christians/moms/wives/friends or whatever else because we do A, B, and C.

We are better because we let Him lead us. We listen to that small still voice. And we act.