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.
Friday, November 30, 2012
Monday, November 26, 2012
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.
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.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
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
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
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
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…
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