Advent Buzzard

As it is the first day of advent, it is time for our advent guest to make his appearance. Allow me to introduce you to our advent buzzard. 

For those of you who find this advent tradition a bit strange, you should….  Though not original to me, you will be hard pressed to find much information on the magical interwebs regarding this unusual, yet awesome advent tradition. Sadly, there isn’t even one pin of my buzzard friend… or should I say frenemy? Don’t let his semi-cute demeanor fool you… he stands for sin. 

As the tale goes, once upon a time, some preacher person (likely fed up with secular holiday traditions) hung up a homemade buzzard (originally constructed from men’s dress socks) in a prominent place in their home.  His purpose was to remind their family of sin, evil, and distractions that surround us every day that draw our attention away from Christ, especially during the season of advent when we should be looking and waiting for Him.  Any time you pass this buzzard, you are supposed to whack him and say something like “I renounce the powers of darkness and look for the coming light!” Thankfully, the children of the family shortened this to “Jesus is coming you old buzzard!”

We have had our buzzard for several years now.  He isn’t a very ugly buzzard, but that’s ok because most of the time sin looks pretty appealing, as do many of the things that distract us from seeking Christ during this season. We don’t have a very good place to hang him up, especially given the 3’ to 6’4” height differential in our household.  So instead, our buzzard finds a place to perch until someone notices him, whacks or throws him (the littlest one prefers the latter), and reminds us all that “Jesus is coming!”  That person then finds a new place for the old buzzard to perch until he surprises someone else.  I find this twist on the original an acceptable change, for evil also hides well, often appearing where we least expect it. 

Come Christmas day, the buzzard will be packed away until next advent as we celebrate Christ’s first coming and look forward to His second coming, but I hope we take the reminders with us… that even things that seem good can distract us from seeking Christ… to be wary of the sin and evil that lurk around us… to remember and be thankful that Christ has already defeated the powers of darkness… and to look forward to His coming again.    

Perhaps you want to go construct your own buzzard now… Perhaps not.  But either way, I hope that this advent you will find some way to remind yourself and your family whom we are waiting and longing for. 

Come thou long expected Jesus born to set thy people free.

Thoughtful Thursdays: Learning Real Love

Ten years ago today, I was celebrating Singles Awareness Day (S.A.D.) as the unlucky RA on duty at P. College, for I clearly had no lovey-dovey plans to celebrate V-Day. Somehow, the few of us unlucky-in-love folks ended up eating “Chinese” food and renting the very romantic (read: terrible) Mel Gibson movie “Signs” (If you’ve never seen it, don’t. All I recall is something about aliens and crop circles… but I digress). I never liked Valentines Day (and yes, if you are a faithful blog reader you will note a pattern… I don’t like many holidays… some call me Scrooge, perhaps rightfully so, but I digress again). Little did I know that I actually spent that SAD day with the same person I am spending it with a decade later. You see, ours was not love at first sight. To tell the truth, I’m not sure when love came. Our story would never make the Hallmark cut...  I can’t even remember the first time we met, but someone may or may not have been dressed as Danny Ford at an awful 80s party… Our second Valentines brought our engagement, which also has no elaborate, sappy story to accompany the event… it was cold and raining… the sole of my shoe split so my feet were soaked and frigid… any well-made plans were more-or-less ruined... I’m not sure, but I think the first time I ever got flowers from this boy was when I was in labor with the Goose... Ours is not a romance novel...And I couldn’t be happier.

I have learned more about real love in the last decade than I ever imagined. At our wedding we heard those familiar words of 1 Corinthians 13:4-8:

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude.

It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;

 it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things endures all things.

LOVE NEVER ENDS.

And while I have learned much about this amazing love that God has for us, I fear that all too often I have failed at showing it… I have been impatient… arrogant… and quite irritable. Yes, I still have much to learn. Mine is but a poor reflection of this love.  Though I treasure these words and hope to learn from them, I have found our love to be a bit more like the love Paul describes in the third chapter of Colossians… This love of mutual submission (a word we all may be a bit too afraid of and offended by) that binds together, yet sometimes admonishes and has complaints… this love of learning to live together with those who are different and growing together as we learn to live like Christ... this love of forgiveness… THIS is REAL LOVE. Not a romance novel. Not a Hallmark card. This love is work… a constant choice to place another before my own selfish desires... to admit wrongs… to seek forgiveness… to learn patience… to grow together as we grow closer to God... And I wouldn’t trade that for roses and romance any day.

Thank you, Danny Ford, for your patience with my irritable impatience, and for joining me on the journey to live in real love. Here’s to many more decades of it.

young love... 2003

Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. ~Col.3:12-15



Thoughtful Thursdays: Thorns

The parable of the sower… you’ve probably heard it a time or two, or read it in a gospel or three (Matt. 13:1-23; Mark 4:1-19; Luke 8:4-15), but where do you put yourself in this story? Are you the sower of seed? Are you the seed in the good soil, producing much fruit for God? I imagine most of us identify with one of those productive and positive roles. Very few of us would like to admit that we might be seeds who have fallen in the rocks or amongst the weeds.

As I came across this familiar passage in my reading, I was struck by one verse:
And others are the ones sown among thorns. They are those who hear the word, but the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches and the desires for other things enter in and choke the word, and it proves unfruitful. ~Mark 4:18

Even as I strive to live for Christ, I fear I find myself all too often in the thorns… distracted by the “cares of the world” and the tasks of my everyday life… desiring more… perhaps not more wealth or things, but certainly more comfort… drawn to jealousy of another’s success or calling. All these things and more creep in almost unseen, and as they grow, my growth slows. My faith may be present but left unchecked, these thorns of distraction and earthly desire keep me from living the life I am called to – a life of joyful service to God.

I think if we are honest, we find ourselves in the weeds a bit more often than we would like. Though we may skim over this parable thinking we have nothing else to learn, perhaps we should visit it again and ask God where we are in this story. What might the cares of our world be, and how are they distracting us? What is it we truly desire, and what petty desires might we have that are getting in our way? How are we deceived by wealth? And if we find ourselves in the weeds, maybe we need to ask the master gardener to pull up the thorns in our lives so that we can grow fully and fruitfully for Him.

Thoughtful Thursdays: We Wish You A Strange Christmas

How was your Christmas?
Get that question very often over the last three weeks? Over the course of these conversations we swap stories of families, travels, illness, chaos, exhaustion, & sometimes sadness (I have yet to hear a story of peace, quiet, and exuberance). While most folks answer, “Good! Busy… But Good.” My reply is simply, “Strange.”

This year, my mother got sick a week before Christmas and stayed sick… spending her Christmas morning in the ER finding out that she had pneumonia. Thankfully, my version of the “flulike virus” only lasted two days, leading up to a Christmas Eve rush like never before. We had four, no, five separate Christmas celebrations in 48 hours in order to accommodate schedules, children, the elderly, and infirm. It was strange… but strange isn’t always bad. My strange Christmas led me to ponder what a “normal” Christmas could or should be…

Every year Wes and I try to do less… less on the schedule… less hustle-and-bustle… less extravagance… less waste… less gifts… just less of everything except Jesus and family. Every year around January 2nd we sit down to a finally less messy house filled with much more than we deserve and ponder how we can try so hard to make things less complicated and stressful (ahh, the irony...) and somehow always end up so busy, crazy, overwhelmed, and tired.

This year during our post-holiday review, we came to the conclusion that there is no “normal” Christmas. Initially, our conclusion only applied to the stereotypical “normal” our society fools us into seeking… peaceful children in adorable, clean pajamas playing with their toys while mom and dad sit back and watch, sipping their coffee and smiling at the joy of it all… But now, I affirm this conclusion in a different way. There is no “normal” Christmas. There shouldn’t be. There is nothing normal about our Savior… not a “normal” birth… not a “normal” life… God the Son willingly took on lowly humanity… it was STRANGE. There is nothing normal about the gift he lavished upon us. AND there is nothing normal about our celebration of His birth, giving each other gifts and largely giving him nothing.

Yes, this year, our Christmas was strange for many reasons. Not only were the events which we couldn’t control strange, but we also did a few strange things on purpose… Like no mention of Santa (and certainly no elf on any shelf)... We have an advent buzzard to remind us of all the sin in the world and things that distract us from Jesus (but more on him another time)...  And, most importanly, the first person in our home to get a gift on Christmas morning was Jesus. We talked a lot this Advent about whose birth we celebrate and how we should and can give Jesus gifts on HIS birthday… it’s not very hard to do, He told us what he wanted (John13:34; Matt.22:37-29) and how to give it (Matt.25:34-40). And much to my surprise, neither girl so much as walked over to her own gifts before eagerly and joyfully examining everything Jesus got first. Strange… but wonderful.

As you settle back into the “normal” of your everyday life and routine, I urge you to ponder the strangeness of it all. How “normal” was your celebration? How would you change it? Could it be a little more strange this year? Don’t put it off until Advent rolls around again… think about it now. Christmas doesn’t have to be so “normal”… The coming of the Savior changed everything. It was certainly strange… but amazingly wonderful.

May your New Year bring about many wonderfully strange moments, may you share this strange grace with others, and may your next Christmas be far from “normal”… Strange even.

"Truly, I say to you, as you did it unto one of the least of these, you did it to me." ~ Matt.25:40

Thoughtful Thursdays: Proverbs Three Woman

Not so long ago, a group of friends and I were looking at what it really means to be a “Proverbs 31 Woman.”  What does she look like and do?  Is this even attainable?  Does such a fine female exist?  (I think not, but I digress.)

Perhaps you too have wondered or at least heard of this illusive “Proverbs 31” lady.  While I am not judging nor discouraging those who wish to model themselves after her or seek this measure of proverbial perfection, I have decided that I would rather be known as a Proverbs THREE woman. 

Now you go read it and decide whom you would rather be... It’s only one chapter, but in thirty-five verses there is endless wisdom… Instruction for everyday, covering discipline, good-behavior, being fair, true wisdom, fear, unexpected tragedy, money/financial matters, and even sleep (my personal favorite!). 

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make straight your paths.” (Prov. 3: 5-6) … and sweet your sleep! (v.24)

Thoughtful Thursdays: Baby Steps...

Today I begin a series I like to call “Thoughtful Thursdays”… and, as per usual, I am a day late.  So for the first installment, we’ll call it “I thought it was Thursday” or “Forgetful Friday”...  the choice is yours.

These “Thoughtful Thursdays” are not designed to impart pearls of wisdom, solve the world’s problems, or serve as a platform for any particular position.  Instead, I hope these open-ended prompts push you to think… and read… and pray, and perhaps even come to your own conclusion or resolution.  Why do you believe what you believe?  Better yet, what do you believe?  Is it consistent with God’s Word?  Do you live it out?  I think if we are honest, the sad truth is that all too often our answer to all of these questions is “I don’t know.”  I urge you to know.  Someday we may all find out we were wrong about at least a thing or two, but let’s be thoughtful, intentional, prayerful people who can say, “I know…” “Here’s why…” and “I try…”  So that, in the words of Paul, “your faith may not rest in the wisdom of men but in the power of God” ~ 1Cor.2:5

Thoughtful Thursday:  Baby steps…

Sissy is trying to learn to walk.  She is very capable of getting where she wants to go using all four of her limbs, yet she wants so badly to walk.  If she holds onto something, she can do it, but if she let’s go, she falls.  Sometimes she knows she’s off-balance and gently sits down.  Other times, she is moving so fast that she comes crashing down… usually head-first.  She can’t catch herself, and I usually cannot get there quickly enough to catch her either. I hate watching her fall, but I love watching her learn… I always seem to learn something in the process too.

We first learn to stand by pulling up on something steady… something that doesn’t move.  As we get stronger, we try to get to our feet on our own.  Sissy is quite amusing at this right now.  She will sit on her knees, put her right foot out to the side and bounce.  You can totally tell what she’s trying to do… she’s working up her momentum… building her muscles… working on her balance… training herself to stand.  She’s practicing a very important and basic skill that’s required BEFORE she can walk: first, she has to learn how to stand alone.  Someday very soon she will master this standing-up thing, she will let go of the couch, she won’t need to hold onto my fingers, and she will toddle away.  Her steps may be shaky… her balance uncertain… but she will practice… she will improve… she will walk… and someday run. 

How is this like our faith?  Are we…

Still crawling?

Holding on?

Letting go?

Practicing?

Getting stronger?

Learning to balance?

Walking, with shaky steps?

Sure-footed?

Ready to run?

Think on it…  and Read on… 1 Corinthians 2; 3:1-2,10-13

(and if you’re feeling really inspired… blog on too!)

Happy Imperfect Mothers Day

All-time best parenting advice received: “Go ahead and mess them up… that way they’ll know they need Jesus.”


All time best parenting advice given: “Invest in a good set of earplugs… you’ll need them for tuning out your children AND all of the unsolicited advice.”

There’s so much our mothers don’t tell us about motherhood… They don’t tell us about all the physical, emotional & mental changes that come with it. They don’t tell us how someday we will be fussing at our children and stop suddenly, realizing we just uttered our mother’s very words. They don’t tell us that some day they will be our children’s favorite person in the world and we will be public enemy number one. And they don’t tell us that we will love our children so much it hurts… when they are hurt… when they disappoint us… and most of all, when we disappoint them. Oh the mother-load of mother guilt… somehow we have to figure that one out on our own.

I’ve never met a mother who didn’t feel at least a little bit guilty for some motherly error… Loss of temper, lack of patience, ignoring, forgetting, nagging, breaking promises, feeding junk food… Like the side effects of a prescription drug, the list goes on… and on… and on.

Some motherhood-side-effects are unavoidable, like receipt of unsolicited advice, from sometimes well intentioned friends, family, and even random ladies you do not know (it’s always the ladies… men are not so foolish as to delve into this advice-giving arena). Often, the advice leaves me rolling my eyes, mumbling obscenities under my breath, calling my husband (no matter where he is) to air my grievances. But sometimes, the advice makes me just want to cry. It fuels the furnace of guilt that already rages within me.

Let me assure you, no matter how well intentioned your unsolicited advice is… I do not want it. Unless you know of a time-saving, child-entertaining, makes-life-so-much-easier product that will provide me with the ever illusive “free time”… don’t share. I don’t want to know what I’m doing wrong. Odds are, I already know. Odds are even better that I feel worse about my shortcomings than you do. You see, I fail, on a daily basis… as a mother, a wife, a daughter and a friend. But I have one saving grace… His name is Jesus. And He gives me all the advice I could ever need.

The potential gut-wrenching, guilt-producing side effects of motherhood are astounding. But like a good drug, the benefits far outweigh the risks. Someday I hope my girls are lucky enough to be mothers. I hope they stop in their tracks one day and shudder at the realization that they are a bit more like me than they ever dreamed. I hope they love their children so much it hurts. And I hope, above all, they know that we all mess up, and that’s ok… for His love covers it all.

Thank you God for imperfect mothers who point us to you… our one, perfect Father.

A Mirror

I see in this mirror a smaller version of myself… more beautiful on the outside… more joyful on the inside… And yet, this beautiful reflection magnifies all of my flaws… my worst traits shine in this mirror like an unsightly blemish in the middle of a perfect face… one that cannot be covered up. I see my sharp tongue, my arrogance, my stubbornness, my temper, my impatience… my sinfulness in hers. I want to say this is simply the sinful nature she was born with, which is true to an extent, but I fear that she has learned many of these behaviors from me… more than I would like to admit. I strive to correct things in her that I do not like, and suddenly I remember my parents trying to correct these same things in me. Perhaps it’s not her I should be trying to reform but myself… the log is in my eye… she received but a splinter from it. I am the source, at least in part.


SIN… hers, mine, all of ours… it takes over quickly… much more quickly than we realize, and it affects us all. My sin leads her to sin. Her sin, no matter how small, frustrates me and leads me to sin, again. We are surrounded by it every day and if we think our sin only hurts us, we are kidding ourselves… BIG TIME.

I am torn, for as her parent I feel the need and responsibility to correct her… to teach & lead her to be a better person than me… But it’s a bit more “do as I say, not as I do,” when it should be “do as I say and do.” I also recognize that she is a sinner… born that way… and living in a sinful world… So maybe I need to give myself a break (just a little one?), because not all sin is taught/seen.

I am reminded of, and encouraged by the words of Paul: “I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. […] it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.” (Romans 7:19-20)

Learning to overcome sin is just that… learning. It must be taught. I must teach her to accept responsibility for her sin. And to do that, I must see my own failures & flaws and accept responsibility for them.
We come to sin naturally but cannot overcome it the same way. Grace must be given and received, and grace is not natural, but supernatural. I must teach her forgiveness, and not just how to forgive others, but also how to forgive herself. Perhaps I am learning that lesson in the process too.

In this mirror… I see myself. I see my sin. But I also see potential … I see beauty... I see joy... I see God.

Teach me Lord, through my children. Show me my own sin. Help me get the log out of my eye so that the splinters may not infect my children and so I may see more clearly how to help them overcome their own imperfections. Help me forgive myself, accepting your grace, and teach me how to show that grace to my children… how to forgive them when they fail… how to love them when fall short… Help us overcome sin, together.

EASTER... at the Beach!

I love Easter... more and more each year.  As I grow in my faith, I appreciate more the sacrafice Christ paid for us. I understand better and enjoy more the celebration... the extra-jubilant way we worship with that day.  And I appreciate more and more the earthly family He has given, sustained, and redeemed.  This Easter was no exception as we joyfully celebrated our risen Lord... it was without a doubt extra-special... with family, surrounded by God's beautiful creation... Sissy's first Easter and first trip to the beach!

We turned a cold & rainy day into a fun girls' afternoon of shopping!
The goose tried out all the hammocks... some silly bunny ears with Mimi...
and got her first ring!  Check out that bling!

We didn't let the cool weather keep us off the beach...

Sissy loved the ocean from the start...
she giggled and kicked just watching the waves

Saturday brought the warm sun, and lots of beach fun!  Sissy & the Goose were thrilled!

who doesn't enjoy a good nap on the beach?

happy seagulls...

...not so happy gulls, being chased by a goose!

A beautiful Easter sunrise

I just couldn't narrow my favorites of these two sweet girls in their Easter best...

Bye Bye Beach!

And lest we leave you thinking that we are always so stinking cute...

Here are a few pictures that describe our real life... 



A little bit crooked...



A little bit crazy...



And A Lot Loud!



Lost Art

I received two notes recently… not just cards with a picture and generic holiday greeting… real, handwritten notes… and they meant so much to me, provided me with such encouragement… not just because they were handwritten, though what a lost and unappreciated art! Taking the time to actually write someone… it’s something I so rarely do.  But in these cards were heartfelt words from two women I truly admire, respect, and love.  They didn’t have to write me… goodness knows I haven’t written them, or anyone for that matter, in ages.  They aren’t people I see very often, though I would love to.  They aren’t famous… they are just normal people with busy lives, but they are special… to me and many others I’m sure.  They remind me that you don’t have to do an extraordinary thing to be extraordinary in God’s eyes.  They encourage me in the way they live their ordinary lives, loving their families, friends, and neighbors.  They lift me up through their simple, kind words, and through the time they took to think of me for more than ten seconds, pick up a pen, a card, address and envelope, and buy a stamp.  They may not consider themselves very special, but they are… in my eyes and in God’s… just for being who they are.  I hope to find the time to pick up a card, address and envelope and buy a stamp for them, and others, very soon. Perhaps you will too… go find a pen and encourage a soul.  Be God’s words of love to someone today… let someone hold those words in their hands and treasure them in their hearts, not just their inbox.

Time Out

Well it’s official… I don’t have time for this… I should be doing any number of a hundred things on my mental to-do list… that’s right… I haven’t even had time to make an actual list, perhaps because I don’t even know where to begin. The floors are covered in dog hair & were covered in little pieces of Christmas tree, but the dog took care of those for me (thanks Sampson… I knew you were good for something!)… My kitchen appears to have no counters… the refrigerator has more food that needs to be thrown out than things one can safely eat… there is sewing to be done… cookies to make… a tree we finally purchased but have yet to decorate… Wes has made valiant efforts to reduce the laundry mountain, yet somehow there is still more to wash... But here I sit, using the few minutes of precious and rare naptime to type. Even I am not sure this is the best decision, as I am sure you might agree.


If by chance you are anything like me, perhaps you look around and wonder where to start and how to make this Advent season less... well, just less… less stressful, less busy, less messy, less commercial. I run through my calendar and my to-dos and I cannot seem to find one thing to strike from the list, nor can I find time in the next three weeks to do it all. I want this season to be about and for Christ but I keep getting lost in my own sea of worthy to-dos. I know who and what are the most important things on my list but somehow there is conflict in my heart… I WANT to do these things for the people who are the most important, yet the normal things I MUST do for these same people (diapers, laundry, grocery shopping, feeding) seem to get in the way. I am at a loss, and so I type and pray, hoping that somehow I will find a way to make time. Make time… maybe I can sleep less? Make more time… more coffee? Make even more time… forget the laundry?

And then, I realize… how bold am I to think that I can make time… only God can make that thing so precious… the one thing on all our lists, no matter our age… the thing that we cannot purchase, nor google a way to DIY… T I M E.O U T.

That’s what I need… a time-out. Can I just go sit in the corner one minute for every year I am old and think about what I’ve done wrong? Please! I need it! Can I cram my buns into the naughty seat? I would love to! I need a time-out, for thinking that I have the power to somehow make time… for thinking that I am capable of producing the “perfect” Christmas, focused purely on the reason we celebrate and yet encompassing every wonderful, memory-making thing and experience for my children, while capturing it all in photos I will treasure forever. WRONG! And so, I give-up... And I give up my time to the one who created it.

I am throwing my mental list out the figurative window and deleting things off my virtual calendar. You’ll forgive me please if I don’t make an appearance at your event… if my children do not wear matching holiday outfits… if my cookies come from a box… if your gift seems sub-par and store-bought… if my photos are mere iPhone snapshots… if your Christmas card arrives after Epiphany… and even if I wear sweatpants and no makeup every day of the week. I am forgiving myself… foregoing my list… and giving up what was never mine to begin with. Now back to the poop, spit-up, tantrums, and undecorated house I love so much… my time-out is up.

Gratitude...

I’ve never been a huge fan of Thanksgiving… I’m not sure why, and yes, I realize that makes me sound like a bad person, BUT… it’s not that I don’t like Thanksgiving… it’s just that I try to be thankful every day, not just once a year. Of course I am thankful for all the “usual” blessings of family and friends, health and home… but I hope that we remember and teach our children to thank God every day for all things, not just once a year for the good things.

So this Thanksgiving, I decided to think of those things that I tend to be least thankful for and take time to thank God especially for these less-than-exciting things…

For traffic when I’m running late, long lines, and the check-writers who make them even longer … Thank you God for teaching me to be patient.

For poop, poop, and more poop… Thank you God for healthy tummies!

For watching people we love slowly slip away… Thank you God for memories… may the good ones far outweigh the bad.

For stubborn four-year-old sassiness… Thank you God for the strong spirit of a child… may she never lose her feistiness!

For noises in the night that make me nervous… Thank you God that these remind me to cling to you when I am scared… and thank you that You never sleep!

For 45 minutes of non-stop screaming in the car… Thank you God for every breath this child takes.

For medical bills… Thank you God for those who care for us… Thank you for sharing your power to heal and knowledge to help.

For the never-ending mountain of laundry… Thank you God for washing machines and dryers! And for clothes, towels, sheets, and diapers too.

For freckles, break-outs, blonde eyelashes, and bad hair days… Thank you God that you make us all different and that your measure of beauty is not like the world’s.

For Wal-Mart… Thank you God that we can go just down the street to get what we need… and for people who make me feel “normal”.



You’ve probably heard the old cliché that “it’s the simple things in life that make living so grand”… but it’s not just the simple good stuff that we are supposed to be thankful for… the simple nuisances, frustrations, and sadness are great causes for gratitude too. Maybe I do like Thanksgiving after all.

“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances;” ~ 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18


“I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth.” ~Psalm 34:1


“[give] thanks always and for everything to God the Father…” ~Ephesians 5:20

Inconvenient Blessings...

This morning I got everyone ready for preschool and a morning of running errands… hopped in the car… dropped the goose off… drove to Target… calmed Sissy down… put on my makeup… and then… realized I had forgotten my wallet… back home we went, hoping that we didn’t get pulled-over on the way.

By now, Sissy was finally asleep, so I turned off the radio and enjoyed the soothing sounds of the sleep sheep (Sissy’s white noise maker). It was then I realized just how long its been since I stopped to enjoy the quiet. Its not that I haven’t appreciated these brief and rare peaceful moments, trust me… I appreciate every minute of silence... But I usually take this time to clean-up, or catch-up. These moments are spent on ordinary chores, which though necessary and often overdue sometimes lead me to neglect the most important things.

So today, instead of grabbing my wallet and rushing back to my morning errands… I am going to enjoy this time. Instead of using Sissy’s nap to scrub toilets, wash clothes, or sew I am sitting by the window watching the sun shine through the trees… thanking God that I left my wallet… thanking Him that instead of being frustrated with my forgetfulness, somewhere along the way I have learned that we will never know what good may come from ordinary “inconveniences”… learned what things are worth getting upset about and what things are better to laugh at… learned that sometimes its better to turn your chair toward the window, let your house be a mess, and let your heart be full.

Or, as Frederick Buechner puts it in his book Listening to your Life
(a book which if you don’t have you should)…
“There is no event so commonplace but that God is present within it, always hiddenly, always leaving you room to recognize him or not to recognize him but all the more fascinatingly because of that [….] Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery that it is. In the boredom and pain of it no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.”

I hope you forget your wallet today… or tomorrow… or someday when you need to turn your chair away from the mess and toward the window.

"The heavens declare the glory of God,and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.
Day to day pours out speech,and night to night reveals knowledge."
~Psalm 19:1-2

Out of Control

I am so over it… pregnancy that is. I’ve organized every closet, cabinet and room… I’ve washed clothes, scrubbed toilets, mopped floors, and even dusted ceiling fans… at one point I organized the attic (pre-100 degree summer and enormous belly)… I’ve nested & re-nested. I’ve eaten spicy food & strange food… I think in one week I ate three pineapples… I tried recees cups and Dr. Pepper (that one I could handle)... I’ve walked, and walked, and walked… and even occasionally jogged (it’s not a pretty sight, trust me!)… yadda, yadda, yadda… the list goes on. I’ve finally cried, just a little… and I’ve prayed a lot. I.am.over.it.all.


Then I realized… I must be amusing God with all my valiant efforts to make this baby come. Yet again, I am relearning that I am not in control… at all. No matter how many “foolproof” labor induction methods I find on the magical interwebs, in the end… I am the fool… which I proved… again.

So I am done. I now hate pineapple. I will still walk, just for giggles and to enjoy the under 90 degree weather. I may even re-clean my house, but only because it now needs it again… I hold no hopes that it will bring with it any pains other than one in the behind. And I will still pray… a lot… because I.am.out.of.control. And I have been all along.

“The mind of man plans his way but the Lord directs his steps”… & her labor.
~Proverbs 16:9

Back to my ordinary life

Wow, after a 4 month hiatus, I have finally emerged from the land of paper-writing and speed-reading (which is really not at all speedy) and returned to my ordinary life. Don’t get me wrong, I love seminary and learn so much in my classes, but I do believe I love boring days of ordinary house-wifedom/stay-at-home-momness better. There is just something strangely gratifying about cleaning out closets, organizing everything under-the-sun, getting rid of things you can’t begin to remember why you kept in the first place, cleaning the shower!!!, and yes, even making the bed (a task which is normally reserved for those rare occasions when we have company).

 

Let me be clear, I live under no disillusions that I am a good house-wife or stay-at-home-mom (to which I am sure Wes can attest), but I have learned to truly love the ordinary stuff. I used to feel discouraged by the success of other women, especially those who seem to accomplish so much with houses full of children. Somehow I was certain that I was simply a failure… at everything... at motherhood, wifedom, business endeavors, blogging, friendship, etc. I didn’t feel I excelled at anything, and by trying to do so much, I failed, at least to some degree, at everything. To a certain extent, that is still true, but I have finally learned a few things…

 

• I can’t do everything… I cannot be Pioneer Woman… and though I love/envy her talent, I generally leave her blog feeling guilty and inadequate for all I fail to get done… I cannot do it all, or even half…
• I can’t be a business woman… while I admire those women who manage to raise children, start/run a small business, all the while appearing successful and happy… I am not one of those women. I love my “little-clothing-business-that-could” but it has become the “tiny-clothing-business-that-is-more-like-a-semi-annual-hobby”… 
• I can’t take three classes in one semester… I am remedial… It will take me many years to finish my masters... but I will chip away at it SLOWLY and hope that by the time my children graduate, I will too…

 

Perhaps this seems to be quite a negative view of myself, but I think I just work backwards… I had to realize what I couldn’t do first and then figure out what I can do, should do, love doing, and am called to do… I have finally learned a few things…

 

•  It’s ok to just do a few things… a very few things, and maybe if I just focus on a few, I can do those things quasi-well instead of just barely good-enough.
• It’s ok to take a long time to finish school… making the decision to start was the hard part… I took that step, and I will keep stepping, slowly, sometimes backwards but mostly forwards, and eventually, I will finish… I hope! Perhaps I will even retain more by going slowly, instead of just rushing through and checking things off the degree-requirement-list.
• My first and most important job is to be a mother and a wife… and when I give myself time to actually BE that… I L-O-V-E that job, more than any other. In truth, it is more than a job… it is my calling… right now, I am called to nurture my family… this is the task God has given me, and I am not just labeling it as a “calling” to make myself feel better… I somehow understand more clearly now just how important, huge, and difficult the task is of raising children… not just meeting their physical needs, but teaching and showing them how to be good, loving, Christian people. Even if I fail at everything else, I pray I don’t fail at this.
• I am a child of God… I cannot fail at that, no matter how hard I try… or more aptly how little I try to be a good child… I am still His, even when I fail… and fail… and fail… even when my priorities are all wrong… even when I feel like a failure at everything else, this I still am and will always be… I hope to be a better child… in fact, I plan on that… but I am sure I will still fail, at least occasionally…. And that’s OK.

 

Perhaps a better title for this post and my life would be “And that’s OK”… because it is… Ordinary is OK… actually its better than OK… it’s fantastic. And I am called to live my ordinary life the best way I can. You see, I realize now that God calls some people to extraordinary lives… some are meant to be “successful” and amazing in the world’s eyes… and some are meant to be great at being ordinary… going largely unnoticed by the world, but not without affecting their own small piece of it… I am one of the latter… and that’s OK.

 

You are now entering heaven… no walkers needed!

Ever since Grandan’s death prompted our discussion of heaven, the Goose has on several very random occasions returned to the topic. Here’s this week’s latest revelation about our heavenly home…

While playing at Granny’s house the goose made a new discovery in the guest room… Grandan’s walker. Now mind you, she has been in the guest room multiple times a week, as this is where the toys are kept, for the last 4 months, but somehow she has never noticed the walker or wheelchair located directly beside her toy basket! Until Thursday…

“Mommy, why did Grandan leave his walker in the guest room.”

“Because he doesn’t need it in heaven.”

(At this point, I simply want to avoid the tears, so am trying desperately to keep the theological discussion to a minimum.)
“He didn’t take it with him?”
“No dear, he doesn’t need a walker in heaven because now he can walk just fine without one… I bet he can even run!”
“But why?”
“Remember how we said Grandan went to heaven because he was old and sick and his body was just too tired to work anymore? Well in heaven God makes us all new again, so Grandan’s not tired or old or sick anymore… and that means he can walk without a walker! And he can probably even run now too!”
The Goose, smiling (praise God!)… “And you don’t need a walker when you run!”

That’s right! No walkers needed in heaven… Praise God for that! AND for a toddler heaven discussion with no crying!

A baby…

Sister! … Just what the goose wanted! I guess she got her way, again… but we don’t mind at all. I asked Wes if he had a preference, and he promised that he didn’t… he returned the same question, to which I replied, “Two legs, two arms, 4-chambered-heart, 2 sides-of-brain…” and he chimed in, “that’s what we’re looking for!” … we got all we were hoping for and more. Baby Sister measures exactly how she should, already likes doing yoga (just like the goose), and appears to look just like her big sister (at least as much as one can tell from an ultrasound profile).

As promised, our first stop after “getting the baby’s picture taken” was none other than Target, where the goose picked out the first gift for her baby sister… pink pajamas-with-the-feet-in-them, tiny pink baby shoes, and (of course) a pink baby toy. Clearly, we are all set for baby’s arrival… Now the waiting begins.

...waiting... waiting... waiting...

To top off our nearly perfect morning, we headed to Starbucks for a morning treat… and when we pulled up to the window, the car in front of us had already paid for our beverages… the drive-thru-difference certainly added an extra-bright spot to our already fantastic day… best iced caramel macchiato ever!

A Happy Birthday Indeed...

Today would have been Grandan’s 95th birthday… And since I’ve let weeks go by without sharing any memories of him, I thought today was an appropriate time to reminisce. I had the privilege of saying a few words at his funeral, so perhaps I will just share those…


As I wonder through my memories of Grandan, I cannot help but think of how my daughter will remember him, and I pray that she will. I suspect that she will remember him sitting in his big chair, sleeping, humming, or pretending to talk to her on his “phone” (he held the remote to his lift chair while she “talked” on Granny’s calculator). She might remember how he always told her goodbye with a kiss and a “sweet baby” or his signature, booming “let’s eat!” after asking the blessing each Sunday. All her memories of him will be good ones & for that, I am eternally grateful.


Those of us who lived with him a little longer will treasure our own good memories, though we might also remember that he, like us all, was not perfect. He could be tough… holding everyone, not just his family, to a very high standard. We didn’t always meet his expectations, especially when it came to pruning, gardening & farming, but he pushed us to do what he thought was best – for the plants, the cows & for us. He had good intentions to be sure… He wanted us all to be the best. And I think he would be pretty proud of his work… we didn’t turn out too bad.

So as we remember him, we will sort through our memories & pick out our favorites… picking watermelons, strawberries, grapes… the glimmer in his eye when he laughed (usually at his own story of times gone by)… the unidentifiable tunes he whistled all the time… the nicknames he gave… his distinct cattle call… the smoke that trailed him as he drove his Harley Davidson golf cart… the pictures he talked to when he walked through the living room… his huge, strong hands… & how very much he loved his bride… These are the good things we will remember… but the best & most precious memory will be that of his faith.


We will remember how everything he did, he did for the Lord… how he gave his best & demanded our best to be a reflection of Christ in the world. How he poured over the scriptures & pondered their meaning, even in his old age… he never stopped studying… he never stopped learning… he never stopped praying… he never stopped serving God. He longed to go home to Jesus, though he hated to leave us here. But now, he is home, resting in the arms of Christ & welcomed by those he loved on this earth. Now he has done his best, and pushed us to do the same. He gave us all a model of a faithful child of God… I pray we all do our best to follow. And so I will hold to this as my greatest memory of him... as I feel it summarizes his life so well… from Paul’s letter to the Philippians the second chapter:

Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. Do all things without grumbling or questioning, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, holding fast to the word of life, so that in the day of Christ I may be proud that I did not run or labor in vain.

Philippians 2:12-16

... a Happy Birthday indeed.

... as a young man... circa 1940s...

... looking out over the cows... circa 1960...

... with his 6 brothers, 3 sisters, & mother... circa 1970...
(3rd from left)

...at our wedding...



The Faith of a Child...

I imagined holiday blogs filled with pictures of a crazy-haired toddler tearing into presents… glowing photos in front of the tree… candid smiles that would speak volumes of joyful Christmas memories. But, our holidays brought some unexpected sadness. Two days before Christmas, after almost 95 years on this earth, my Grandan went home - to heaven. While our holidays were bittersweet, his Christmas was undoubtedly his best ever, for he celebrated our Savior’s birthday with Him.

For nearly two weeks, I have intended share something of his life, his faith, the lessons he taught, and I still hope to do that, but first, let me share a very special & unexpected lesson from the Goose…

One of the toughest parts of losing someone you love is explaining that loss. I had the special challenge of sharing the news of Grandan’s death with the oldest & youngest members of our family: my grandmother & my daughter. Both looked at me with a bit of confusion & surprise when I shared the news of Grandan’s “home-going” (as one friend so aptly put it), but after a few questions, both seemed to take the news in stride. Both were happy that Grandan was now in Heaven with Jesus.

At first, the Goose asked such sweet and heartfelt questions that she brought tears to all of our eyes…
 As she ran down the hall at Granny’s house, looked in each room, turned back & asked:
“Where’s Grandan?” “When’s he coming back?” "When will we see him?”…
When we pulled up at Granny’s house days later:
“Everybody’s here,” the Goose cheerfully announced, “But Grandan’s not. He’s in heaven.” …
When we read the story of Jesus’ birth on Christmas Eve:
“Grandan’s with Jesus too!” she proudly proclaimed.
How awesome… the faith of a child.

Then, a few nights ago, after life had begun to settle down… the Goose was busy playing, when all of a sudden, she runs in the kitchen and asks her Daddy, “When are we going to heaven?” My ears perked up, but I don’t remember his answer… I just remember the concern in her voice… I called for her to come sit with me, and when she walked around the corner I saw tears running down her sweet face. When I asked why she was crying, she said, “Because I don’t want to go to heaven.”

“Why don’t you want to go to heaven?” I asked.

“Because I want to come back home.” The tears, her quivering chin, so sincere, & so sad.

I held her tight & tried to fight back my own tears… I knew this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation. How do you explain heaven to a three year old?

“We’re not going to heaven today,” I reassured her, “but some day we will all go there and live with Jesus & that will be good, won’t it?”

“No,” she replied. “I don’t want to go.”

“Are you crying because you’re sad that Grandan’s gone to heaven and we won’t see him for a while?”

The Goose nodded.

“Well we will see him again someday, just probably not very soon.”

“But when is he coming back to Granny’s house?”

“He’s not. He has a new home, in Heaven with Jesus.”
We talked again about how Grandan was old & sick… how he was tired & his body just didn’t work anymore. So Jesus brought him to heaven to live with Him & now he’s not tired any more. I told her how Heaven is a wonderful place, where no one is ever sad, or sick, & we get to live with Jesus & lots of other people we love. I told her how Grandan’s Mama was in heaven, & Gamma’s Mommy & Daddy, & Grandaddy’s Mommy & Daddy. And someday, we will all go to Heaven & be together FOREVER.

I paused, glancing down to see her little eyes still filled with tears. I took a deep breath & kept searching for the right words to reassure her…

“I know heaven is hard to understand… there are a lot of grown-ups who don’t understand heaven. But because Jesus loves us & because we do our best to love Him, when we die, we get to go to Heaven and live FOREVER. It’s a happy place & we will all live there together, forever and ever, and we’ll have LOTS of time to play… We’ll never say, “hurry hurry! We’re late!” because we will have all the time in the world to play together and…”

“Will there be a nursery with babies (she means dolls, FYI) for us to play with in heaven?” The Goose interrupted, with her very serious question.

I reassured her that there would be plenty of toys to play with (I hope I’m not wrong!).  Her Daddy chimed in that there will be cows there too. (You see, Grandan was very worried about this & in his last visit with his pastor, he inquired as to whether there will be cattle in heaven… he was serious too… and I hope for him that heaven is filled with cows.)

“Yes goose, there are lots of things to do & play with, lots of time, and lots of people that we love. But best of all, we get to meet Jesus. You know how we can’t see Jesus but we love him anyway?” the goose nodded. “Well, when we get to heaven, we will see him! And we’ll see Grandan again too. And just like Jesus lives in our heart & we love him even if we can’t see him, Grandan lives in our hearts too, as long as we remember him, and we still love him too. It’s ok to cry because we miss him, but he is happy in heaven, and someday… someday we’ll be happy there too. Because God would never ever take us anywhere that wasn’t good.”

I think I rambled some more, but I don’t know what I said… and I doubt the Goose does either. Gone were the days of cheerfully announcing that “Grandan’s not here. He’s in heaven. With Jesus.” Just a week before, we were amazed at how well she seemed to understand & what an amazing grasp children have on faith…. The faith of a child… we praise it… we long for it, but really, what the goose showed me is that even a faithful child thinks. For two weeks, she’s been thinking… Grandan’s gone… he’s in heaven… he’s with Jesus… we can’t see him… he’s not coming back… he’s not coming back… I think it finally hit her… he’s not coming back. We thought she took it so well… we marveled at her innocence & trust, but even at three… she questioned. She didn’t understand… we don’t understand… so she questioned… and we question.

I always thought that having faith like a child meant blindly following… trusting completely, and I still believe that is true, but now… I also believe that having faith like a child means being honest, with ourselves & God. We don’t understand. We get scared. We don’t want to leave this earth, and yet… We love God, we want to be with Him… Forever. So what do we do? We curl up in His lap, we shed a few tears, we ask some tough questions, and our faith grows.
How awesome… the faith of a child.

At that time Jesus declared, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will.

~Matthew 11:25-26

 

At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

~Matthew 18:1-4

Black Friday: An Advent Tale from the Target Cart

Some people have favorite super-bowl ads… I have favorite black-Friday ads. The best of which I award to Target. Most of you, I hope, have seen the well-groomed, ultra-prepared, & overly-excited blonde lady as she counts down the days to the biggest shopping day of the year. Here’s my favorite clip… (for those of you who have no clue what I’m talking about AND for those of you who find these commercials as humorous as I do)



I cannot compare to the Target-lady, but I must admit, walking through the parking lot Friday morning (at a respectable 8:30… no, I am not crazy enough to get up early... not even for Target deals) I felt a bit like her. I was pumped… speed-walking through the wet parking-lot… practically racing people to those shiny red doors. Inside, things were still crowded, but everyone was friendly, there were fine folks in every department eager to help, and every line was open. The rush of bargain-hunting adrenalin brought a smile to my face, as did the buggy full of goodies (I got everything on my list! … & then some), the line with no waiting, and, of course, the savings boldly printed on my very long receipt.

At this point, you may be thinking I am a big dork. And that’s ok with me… but as I walked back to my car & drove home, I couldn’t help but think…. THIS is what Advent is supposed to be like! I know “Black Friday” is not the official beginning to the Advent season, but let’s be honest, it is the beginning of most of our Christmas preparations, celebrations & anticipations. And if you stop and think a minute, there are a lot of similarities between Black Friday & Advent. Both are times of waiting, anticipating, seeking, excitement & joy. Even the odd hours of shopping-madness find a parallel in Advent, for Jesus Himself told us that He would return like a thief in the night.

Advent is supposed to be the time we look earnestly for our Savior, seeking His return as we celebrate His birth. Shouldn’t we as Christians be a bit more like the Target lady? Shouldn’t we be training & preparing for His arrival? Shouldn’t we be eagerly awaiting, counting down the days & minutes to Jesus’ return? Shouldn’t we be so pumped to get to see Him that we are practically sprinting just to get a glimpse?

Maybe I am odd for finding theology in Black Friday, but I hope I am like the nice blonde lady when it comes to Jesus. And I hope this Advent finds you with an inexplicable smile on your face, a spring in your step, & maybe even a parachute on your back as you train, seek, and some day see our Lord.

“Be dressed in readiness & keep your lamps alight […] for the Son of Man is coming at an hour that you do not expect.” ~Luke 12: 35-40