The edge of the world

Lately, I have been considering the act of prayer in my personal life: why I pray, how I pray, and when I pray.  It turns out that although I pray often, I do not pray intentionally.  Intentionally is a fancy way of saying with a plan and purpose.  The reality is, I usually pray in desperate, exhausted moments; after I have tried all other modes of fixing and have finally realized in my own strength I can do nothing about the current issue or situation.  I have a close friend who calls this moment: “coming to the end of one’s self.”  I like to think of it as: “the edge of the world moment.” 

You see, once upon a time, geographical experts believed the world was flat and you could in fact sail to the edge.   Not sure what they would find at the edge:  sea monsters, an awesome waterfall, the abyss; fear consumed them and they advised sailors not to push the boundaries, to stay out of uncharted territory.   Sometimes, I am like those so-called geographical experts; I too fear the edge of the world, metaphorically of course.  I too, advise myself to not travel into uncharted waters; to stay close to the known and to avoid the unknown.  The known, equals my control over a situation, or my imagined control over said situation.  The unknown is me letting God have the issue in prayer and not trying to control the situation. 

James 1: 2-8 says:

² Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. ³ For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. ⁴ So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.

⁵ If you need wisdom, ask our generous God, and he will give it to you. He will not rebuke you for asking. ⁶ But when you ask him, be sure that your faith is in God alone. Do not waver, for a person with divided loyalty is as unsettled as a wave of the sea that is blown and tossed by the wind. ⁷ Such people should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. ⁸ Their loyalty is divided between God and the world, and they are unstable in everything they do.

How Branch Girls sail into
 uncharted territories

According to God’s word, I should let it go.  (Stop singing now!)  I should give to God intentionally, through prayer, all my troubles and I should ask for wisdom in how to deal with life’s trials.  You see, it is simple, but hard.  I simply go to God and tell him what I need and he handles it.  The hard part comes in verse six.  I am not to waver, to doubt, to be tossed by the waves of indecision.  I am to trust, to lean into God alone, not myself.  I am not the one who fixes, that is God’s job.  I am not the captain, I am simply a crew member.  I need to seek His plan first, then focus on carrying it out.  The secret is: One will never know his plan unless one seeks Him first.  That means I cannot develop my own plan to solve a supplication (fancy word for deep need), then go to God tell Him my plan and expect Him to act accordingly to my already decided solution. The crew member does not know better than the captain.  So here is the challenge:  Pray, seeking God’s guidance first and not your own.  Let your requests be known to God and wait on Him to guide your steps.  Sail into uncharted territory in your prayer life and let God map out your journey. 

The danger of looking out a bathroom window....

Once upon a time when I was thirteen I lived next door to someone who I believed to be the coolest person in the world.  He was older by four years and held movie star status in my mind.  My friends, in agreement with me, were slightly jealous that I was given the privilege to reside next door to someone so enchanting.   Not only was he the picture of perfection in our middle school minds, but he also had a built in swimming pool, which made him cool to every kid who lived on our street.  The craziest part was that he played baseball, which meant that all the baseball players from the high school team would come over to his house to swim. So here I am, and all my friends, in what we believe to be love with this boy, who has no idea we exist.  What to do?  The only logical thing, have sleep overs at my house and spy on the perfect boy next door.  The truth is, we were the original stalkers, with no aide of Facebook.  We figured out that if we stood on the toilet in my dad's office bathroom and stretched our necks out just right, we could see out the window and over the privacy fence that our back yards shared and spy on the coolest boys in our universe.  The boys so out of reach to our little preteen selves that they might as well have been stars in the sky or on the silver screen.  As they did back flips and tricks off the diving board, we watched in secret believing they were brave and reckless and cool.  Beyond silly were we, what do you expect from middle school girls?

Why am I telling you this highly embarrassing truth about myself; because life always looks better stretching your neck just right to peer over the privacy fence at the perfect picture next door.  The grass is greener mentality.  The truth is ugly, not perfect, no matter how it looks on the outside.  We live in a social network world that has trained us to Photoshop the truth and make it more beautiful than it is, and sometimes those peering in are stuck missing out and not realizing that the picture is just that, a picture. I was reminded of this reality today when I was drinking coffee and perusing Facebook and Instagram.  The pictures, the online scrapbooks of our lives, show the happy moments.  Now with Instagram we can even filter out fine lines and dark circles to improve our appearance just a touch more.  I do not write these words as one who does not buy in and even participate.  If I am honest there are times I have allowed the social network to creep in and do a number on my human ego.  I have been stuck in the "Look how thin she is, look where they have traveled, look how young he looks" state of mind.  It is as if a perpetual high school reunion is happening in my mind and I must keep that picture perfect image solid.

Then I am left with the question, why?  Why am I trying to keep the picture perfect, when I know that I am anything but?  Perfect will never be the picture of me, my life, my marriage, my children, my world.  I am left knowing that in my weakness, my God is strong. That even if I stand on the toilet and peer out the window coveting swimming pools and coolness, I am still the daughter of the King who owns the cattle on a thousand hills.

Looking cooler than we actually are.

I know these jumbled thoughts might make no sense to you, and seem like the unnecessary confession of a teenage truth that would have spared humiliation left unconfessed to cyberspace; but if you are struggling today, thinking that others' holiday season looked cooler on Facebook than yours, if you are peering out technology's window wishing you were living someone else's life, stop and know that you are important and God has a specific plan and purpose for you.  I plan to start the New Year not standing on toilets, not coveting swimming pools and enjoying the existence God has given me.  I'll post some pics on Facebook so you can peak through the window and over the fence.  I promise it looks cooler than it actually is.  :)

Who am I?

This morning, I was reminded of who I am NOT and I am so glad I was.  

I recently started reading a book, again.  I did not start reading a new book again, I literally started reading a book again, as in, the same book I started months ago and never finished.  A book that I have had sitting next to my bed for about three months; a book that I read chapter one of, loved, and then set down again for so long I had to dust it off prior to opening it, which may be more of a commentary on my cleaning capabilities than my dedication to enjoying the written word.  The book is title I Am Not, but I know I Am by Louie Giglio, and it is quite good. 

I made a commitment with myself to seek God in the morning, prior to beginning my day.  A commitment, if I am honest with you, I make about once a week and fail to follow through with because the house is cold in the morning, because the extra minutes I spend with my eyes closed buried in blankets after hitting the snooze alarm are some how more precious to my fleshy heart than much needed quiet time with the Almighty.  I don't write this to sound self righteous or holy in any way.  In fact, I am personally convicted because I feel empty and dry many days simply because I have allowed my spiritual engine to run out of gas. I am no mechanic, but I know what happens to my car if I do not take the time to fill it up.  It runs out of steam, of go, of movement capability.  I too, without spiritual fuel, run out of steam, of go, of movement capability.  I lose the ability to see God's plan and I begin to focus on the temporal, the small, the meaningless, the self.  So I made my grand plan, which I already confessed that I make once a week, and I announced it to my husband, the one who knows how much of a morning person I am NOT, and I went to bed .    I did not set an alarm, but with the help of a sick child, who caused just enough awareness in my subconscious, and the gained magic hour daylight savings time provided, I woke up about every two hours, which included 5:45 am.  Now at 5:45, I stayed up.  I took a shower and began to get ready for Monday, completely forgetting my appointment with God.  As I searched for my boots and warm sweater, I found the book.  The one mentioned above, the one I started and stopped and started again.  Suddenly, I remembered my grand plan, my empty gas tank, my dry bones and I stopped.  I read chapter two, and felt my empty tank fill.  God showed up for me.  My husband had told me Sunday night that if I seek God in the morning, I will find him.  I remembered this encouragement as I read chapter two.  The chapter about Who I am Not, about Moses, about the burning bush, about who my God is and what he is capable of and I found peace.  

Psalm 5 1-3
Give ear to my words, O Lord,
Consider my meditation.
Give heed to the voice of my cry,
My King and my God,
For to You I will pray.
My voice You shall hear in the morning, O Lord;
In the morning I will direct it to You,
And I will look up.


This morning I found such a sweet moment resting in the reality that I am not in control and the Great I Am is.  I am thankful for the sick child, the gained hour, the husband's exhortation, the Psalmist's example; all of the seemingly small human realities that I believe God used to encourage my divine appointment.  I am so glad that my God knows what I need and is willing to meet with me, willing to fill my spiritual tank and empower movement within my soul, again.

Now, I would like to report that this morning was so filling that I am in a good place, that I was ready to face the world and I met each situation today with zero frustration or desire for selfish gain, but I can't.  I still struggled today.  I still found myself thinking things I ought not.  I still wrestled with the sinful, spiteful flesh that I wrestle with daily, but I was more prepared for the wrestling.  The reality is the sweet quiet moment of peace was there, part of my day, a part that I miss most mornings.  A part that I need every morning.  I hope that I will continue to seek God in the morning, that I will not let the comfort and warmth of my bed win out over the time of fellowship that waits with my maker.  I hope that tomorrow I will direct my praise to the Lord and that I will look up.

Being a mom...Wow!  A peak into the heart of Christ.

So, I am a mom.  A MOM!!!! What?  When did that happen?  I don't know about you, but there are days I feel beyond ill equipped to play the role of some one's mother, some one's mentor, some one's care taker.

God has gifted me with two little girls, little angels, little wild live wires of energy; that sometimes laugh so hard they cry and sometimes cry so hard I cry.  The truth is...I am a mother and a daughter, a responsible adult and a fearful little girl.  There are days I walk through motherhood and feel so empty that a strong wind might blow me away, and there are days I feel so whole that a hurricane couldn't move me.

Truth:  It is hard to love a little child so much that you want to hold them tight forever, all the while knowing that one day you will have to let them go to be what God has called them to be.  

Rest:  Where I find rest in this reality of parenting, is in the reality that I also am constantly being parented.  Not by my earthly parents, although that happens occasionally, but by my heavenly father who loves my little ones beyond the love that I am capable of giving.


Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children ² and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.  

Ephesians 1:1-2

Dear friends, let us continue to love one another, for love comes from God. Anyone who loves is a child of God and knows God. ⁸ But anyone who does not love does not know God, for God is love. John 4:7-8

Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud ⁵ or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. ⁶ It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. ⁷ Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance. 

1 Corinthians 13: 4-7

Effective parenting requires the love of Christ to run through us and to pour over our children.  Parenting is frustrating, exhausting, both encouraging and discouraging, losing, winning, sharing, hoping, changing, growing, bending and breaking and bending again.  Parenting is an act of growth in not only the children who are being brought up, but also in the one who is learning how to grow with them, the parent.  In my experience every day God uses my children to teach me something new about myself, about them, and about the love that God has for me.

Thank you God for my girls who are constant reminders that your grace is enough to sustain me and grow them.  

Nothing? Really?

Be anxious for nothing....

Nothing?  Really?  Ever?  What about when my kids are sick, or the bank account is empty, or the exam is too difficult, or the toilet over flows, or my mom is disappointed in me, or my kid is struggling in school, or my marriage is on the rocks, or my life is out of control and I can't do anything about it?  Is it even possible to be anxious for nothing?  I am not sure I have gone a day being anxious for nothing in my entire life.  In fact, I am not sure I have gone an entire hour without being anxious over something.  Truth is, if I am being honest, I struggle with the concept of trust, which is why anxiety visits me on a daily basis.  I have a hard time trusting that God will handle my life because I am afraid of the pain and loss that might come with his good and perfect plan.  Sooooo, now what?  What do I do to solve my anxiety issues?  I know, trust more.  How do I trust more in my own strength, when my own strength is insufficient?

^{Read Phillipians 4: 6-9 Below is the New Living Translation:}  

⁶ Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. ⁷ Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.

⁸ And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise. ⁹ Keep putting into practice all you learned and received from me—everything you heard from me and saw me doing. Then the God of peace will be with you.

Formula for peace:  

1.  Stop worrying.

2.  Pray about everything.

3.  Include what you need in your prayer and thank God for all he has done.

_____________________________________________________________

= God's peace which will guard your heart and mind

I tend to run a little high on the anxiety scale, so some days I have to follow this formula throughout the day.  I have to repeatedly go to God about the issue and thank him for what he has done so far, ask him to continue working, and then I experience peace from Him.  Sometimes that peace lasts for hours, sometimes it lasts for minutes and I have to repeat the process.  Either way I grow.  I grow through resting in his perfect peace as he leads me through life's difficult moments.  I grow when I have to "wrestle" with Him and pray continually, hourly, moment by moment searching for that peace I know he will give when the time is right.  

It is kind of like the city of Jericho and the walls falling down.  Sometimes we need only go to God and he heals instantly, other times we may have to march around the city seven times before He causes that wall to fall down in our lives.  The marching isn't for him, it is for us.  The waiting isn't for him, it is for us.  God can create the universe with a word.  He is not baffled by how or when to solve our problems.  He is growing us through the marching, the waiting.  The question is are we willing to march?  Are we willing to hold on until he delivers us, or are we going to settle for a man made solution we develop through our own strength and will?  God has the whole picture, he sees the beginning and the end.  I read in the book The Awakening that we see from point A to B, problem to solution, while our heavenly father sees from point A to Z, the whole story of our lives and how each of our lives impact others.  Perspective changes everything. 

The reality is he will deliver us and He is faithful.  His character doesn't allow for anything else.  The question is are we willing to "be anxious for nothing" and choose to "wrestle in prayer" with our God or will we choose the alternative; a life ruled by anxiety and fear as we try to fix our issues in our own strength?  

This week's challenge:  

Pray using Philippians 4:6-8.  Experience God's peace.  Let Him guard my heart and mind.  

What is it about libraries?

Yesterday was one of those days with the kids...the days where everything starts off fine, but by late afternoon they are ready to explode.  Our house starts to feel like a cage and my little sweet ladies begin to take on characteristics of wild animals held captive.  What to do?  What to do?  Time to open the cage doors and run free.  The problem 97 degrees outside.  Too hot to play at the park, so we drive to town, trying to think of something to do, that only takes about half an hour between errands to tame my wild beasts.  A little voice in the back seat of my car has an idea...and it is a good one...the library.  

I don't know about you, but something happens to my heart when I walk into a library.  Surrounded by books, waiting to be checked out.  A world of possibility opens up and my heart begins to smile. 

 I see my little two year old find a book, sit at a table and begin to turn pages. When the book no longer holds her attention, after about 2 minutes of deep reading, she is up wandering.  She finds a stuffed animal in a basket filled with toys and then makes her way to a magnet board just her size with giant letters and begins to move and stick the letters... pure contentment.  My six year old finds a stack of Fancy Nancy books and she catches the same contentment that has overtaken my little one.  We run into good friends and talk about books to read and not to read, as well as movies to watch and not to watch.  My six year old follows her friend over to the movies and picks out a couple of DVDs...Yes, DVDs at the library...  My two year old finds the water fountain soaks her dress and is now ready to return to the hot car...cooled off for the ride home.  

The true magic of the library is just that...A car ride home, pre-dinner, without grumpy, whining children.  No fighting or bickering from the backseat.  No caged animals here, just two little ladies looking out the windows and and letting the wind blow through their hair. 

Peaceful, happy children and new books to read, without spending a dime.  (Ok, so I did have to pay $1.62 for late fees, but don't tell anybody.)   What could be better? 

Playing Truth or Dare...

Morning coffee...Check...Morning Facebook check...Check....Morning email review....check...Morning strawberries smashed on table by two year old....Check...First of many daily kitchen cleanings...Check...Short, choppy conversation with my working husband about daily to do lists...Check...Diaper change...Check....Toaster waffles...Check...Clean up toaster waffles...Check....Realizing I am in a rut...CHECK...

Anyone else struggling with a case of the summer blues?  The reality TV show, Facebook friend vacation photo, Travel brochure in the mail induced summer blues.  It seems like the whole world is on vacation and I am still clipping coupons and cleaning house.  (Ok, I lied about the coupon clipping; I gave up on that endeavor months ago.)  I am feeling a little lost; okay, a lot lost.  I am feeling overwhelmed by the everyday routine...the blah...the ennui...(pronounced "On-wee"...ninth grade vocabulary word from "The Most Dangerous Game"...French word for boredom...and I only know this because I used to teach ninth grade English...not because I remember my ninth grade vocabulary lists.)  The problem is my present reality does not permit me to plan a vacation to Mexico...sorry Tina... :)  So, if a trip South to sooth my soul is not the answer today, what is?

I recently listened to a young Christian discuss the feeling of  spiritual height...The Mountain Top...experience as it is called.  When life feels  right with God and whole and happy.  When you aren't looking around at others and wondering why their walk looks so easy and exciting and your own walk looks so difficult.  When you are in love with your savior Jesus Christ and equally in love with what he is doing in your life right now.  I have been there...and it is a good place to be.  It is truly exciting, and fulfilling.  However; inevitably with highs, come lows; with mountains, come valleys...and sometimes we walk through valleys and it is hard to see the sun.

The day my daughter Lily was born, I felt like all was right with the world.  I felt like nothing else mattered and I felt like I would never feel dissatisfied again.  If it is possible to claim, I was wrong and I was right at the same time.  I was right in knowing that my world was forever changed and I was wrong to believe that dissatisfaction would never creep into my life again.  A month later, after nursing, sleep deprivation, and spending an hour packing the diaper bag and changing the baby for a fifteen minute trip to the grocery store, I wondered if life would ever feel right again and if I would ever sleep again.  My mountain top experience was followed by a deep valley of frustrating circumstances.

If my spiritual life is anything like my feelings the first month of motherhood, I know that the ebb and flow of the emotional tide will continue.  I know that the cirumstances of my life inevitablly impact my perception of reality.  My Christian walk is a mixture of spiritual highs and lows.  Moments on mountains celebrating God's love and goodness as well as moments in the valleys asking the question most have asked in the quiet hidden places of our hearts:  "Hello God, are you there?".


Truth: My God is an awesome God.  Truth: Right now my life doesn't feel so awesome.  Lie:  If my life doesn't feel awesome than how can my awesome God love me?  Truth: My feelings do not determine who my God is.  Truth:  Sometimes I don't believe the previous Truth.

Dare:  To live a life believing my God is good and loves me even in the blah moments, the hard moments, the scary moments, the moments of frustration, the moments that life doesn't look so good.  To see the Son even in the depths of life's valleys.

The ugly beautiful...

So I have been reading this book...

One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp,and just in case you were wondering, the cover doesn't normally come splattered in water color paints; that is the special touch of my little Joanna, one and already an artist.

For me this book has not been a quick read.  I bought this book back in June or July and I still have two chapters left to read.  In my case, it has been one of those books you pick up and read a chapter of...cry, think, ponder, search out the scriptures that are brought up, remember the Bible stories from Sunday school alluded to, and put down for a week, a month...then pick back up and start the process again. Some books I finish in days, hours, unable to stop reading them...not this one, not this book, and that is not because it is not well written, interesting, thought provoking, or inspiring...It is because it is personal, touching, and a book, for me, that takes time to process.  I think God knew this book would be good for me to read.  It is about trusting the Lord, and learning to practice thankfulness in an effort to build that trust with him.

So here I am reading a chapter on what the author calls "The Ugly Beautiful" and I get Strep Throat.  Now mind you, my family has, like many other families with small children, been battling illness since Thanksgiving.  Not terrible, life threatening illness; but the uncomfortable, up late at night, cranky toddler, ear infection, sick husband with Strep Throat, tired kindergarten with stuffy nose type of  illness, and to be honest, I am literally sick of it.  So when I had a little scratchy throat Thursday night I thought, not now, not me, I don't want to be sick.  I tried to will it away, pray it away, negotiate with God, "You know I don't have time to be sick.  Wouldn't it be better if I just felt better and could do all the things I need to do tomorrow.  I have Bible Study in the morning, groceries to shop for, high schoolers coming to my house for a bon-fire in the freezing cold...No time for the ugly illness to start now..."  God didn't agree with that because as the night progressed the little tickle in my throat began to feel like shards of glass every time I swallowed and I was awake and angry...I knew what this was, I knew it would require a trip to the doctor, antibiotics, and time...precious, precious time doing what I didn't want to do, feeling like I didn't want to feel.  I didn't see any beauty in this ugliness and I wasn't thankful at all for my soar throat.

The ugly beautiful:  I made the phone call to the doctor's office and asked for a same day appointment, to which the receptionist at first said  impossible, then thankfully found a 3 o'clock for me. My husband drove me to the doctor, went grocery shopping with Joanna while I was there with Lily and then took me to get a shake to numb my throat while we waited on my prescription.  The doctor prescribed Lily antibiotics as well without doing a Strep test, which she greatly feared, because she had all the same symptoms I did.  This meant not having to make a second trip to the pediatrician which was a huge blessing.  When we all arrived home, I laid on the couch while Jason made pizza with the girls.  As I laid there, I saw it, the beauty in the ashes...If I hadn't been sick, I wouldn't of had this moment of watching my husband, wearing an apron

covered in cherries that Lily picked out for him toss pizza dough in the air while both my little ladies stood on chairs at the counter assisting their daddy.  If I hadn't been sick, I would not have experienced the thoughtful care my husband took of me while I felt physically miserable.   To be honest, I laid there on the couch and felt completely satisfied with the moment and thankful for the momentary illness that brought my family together on a Friday afternoon to make pizza.  Thank you lord for the ugly beautiful and for books that are written to remind us of your faithfulness.

Today I was "That Lady"...

Today I was "That Lady..."!  You know the one.  The one who can't control her wild children.  The one who takes overly tired babies out and about at nap time.  The one who makes a scene, makes a mess, makes noise.  I was her.  I will admit, this is not the first time I have been her, nor will it be the last, however, today I was her with an exclamation point.

It all started at the dentist appointment, that I thought I was 15 minutes late for, but I was actually 15 minutes early for.  This early arrival was a pleasant surprise, a mini-miracle in my world.  A moment to thank God for my forgetfulness and feel blessed.  I spent the next 15 minutes relishing the feeling of being on time, which is a rare feeling for me to experience.  All seemed well with the world.  My two calm, well behaved children playing in the super cool kid friendly dental office complete with train traveling a track suspended from the ceiling, my insurance card tucked safely in my wallet when needed by the receptionist, and the cherry on top, I even brought a pen to fill out the forms.  Super mom right...hahahaha.

I am glad I enjoyed my moment of super-mom-ness...because suddenly I went from super hero to super zero.

Although my Lily has the sweetest smile, she has terrible teeth.  On the outside they look fine, but hiding between her molars are cavities...many, many cavities.  She has had dental work done before, she knew what was coming and she was the picture of control until the teeth cleaning began.  All of a sudden panic grips my child and the poor dental hygienist can't come near Lily without causing her to cry loudly for all the other children to hear.  Needless to say she survived the teeth cleaning, but not without a final freak out when the dentist tried to put a smear of fluoride on her teeth.  And the icing-on-the-cake of Joanna crying for a sucker and Lily screaming in terror over fluoride goo...a cavity...right between, you guessed it, the molars.  The dentist also made sure to call it a "flossing cavity", as in, "You should be flossing your child's teeth lady." (Ok, so maybe he didn't mean that, but in my mom brain that is what I heard.)  

After leaving the dentist, we continued to make our scene in stores around town.  The quick stops, the unneeded stops, the "Oh while we are in town I would like to" stops...which finally ended with Jo-Jo screaming so loudly in a checkout line that the manager brought us a toy to try and keep her quiet.  I am sure as I walked out the door..."That lady"...and ..."Some people"....were phrases uttered by a few of my fellow shoppers.

So there it is...my day in a nut shell...A morning of Patience Tested, wrapped up with a side of Humility.  As we drove home from the big city both of my exhausted, frustrated angels feel asleep.  I was listening to a local Christian radio station and a song came on that I desperately needed to hear...
"Where I belong" by Building 429.  Tears filled my frustrated, tired, eyes and the song reminded me that this is not my home...All I need is Jesus and to him I am not...That Lady who failed to floss her child's teeth, That lady who couldn't calm the angry toddler in the check out line, That lady who is only on time when she forgets what time her appointment is.  I am his daughter, I am loved no matter how much I fail to meet the mark, I am his.  I am "That lady who is saved."

P.S.
Here is the song that melted my heart and reminded me that this world, with all its cavities, is not my home.      


http://youtu.be/lOtsB4O1p3o

Lights Out...

So last night I had big plans.  Jason went to the high school all-nighter with the youth group and I for the first time decided to not participate.  Motherhood has taught me that all-nighters come more frequently than once a year and are a lot less fun than midnight bowling so I decided to stay home with my girls and sleep.

My plan:  To put the two little ladies to bed around 8:30, mop the floor, and stay up late watching all the girl movies from the Red-box at Ridley's that no one else in my family currently appreciates.

So dinner was done, and mostly cleaned up.  Joanna was in her PJ's headed to bed and Lily was watching Tangled when the wind started howling, and rearranging the furniture on the deck.  Lily and Joanna were freaked out and I was reassuring them it was all going to be fine when the lights began to flicker...once, twice... then out.

All of a sudden my two little freak outs became big freak outs.  Windy, stormy night is not usually a favorite with little girls, and the cherry on top, pitch black house when Dad isn't home, equaled total panic.  Now, if you know me, you know that I am a total scaredy-cat.  I am not a fan of scary movies, or the dark.  I love light.  I love sunshine. I love moonlight, but only romantic strolling on the beach moonlight, not dark stormy night moonlight.  So here I am, home alone with two little kids, and to be completely honest totally freaking out on the inside myself.  On the outside though, "I am woman hear me roar."  I am calm, reassuring.  Finding candles and flashlights while hold one child and trying to hug the other clinging to my side in terror.

Needless to say, we had to walk downstairs and to the garage to find a flashlight...both girls and the dog came with.  Needless to say my floors didn't get mopped because when the power came back on at 10:30 (approximately 3 hours later)  Lily sat up from under her blankets of protection and proclaimed "Hallelujah", then refused to leave my side in case it happened again.  So there we sat on the coach, snuggled together, while Joanna slept in her crib...trying to follow a movie that I think I watched less of than Lily.  Needless to say, my girl's night movies were left unwatched and will probably return to the their Red Box home just the way they came, unwatched and unappreciated by the Richardson household.

And even though, my night of clean floors, rest, and relaxation turned into coloring on the coach with flashlights and singing "Jesus Loves Me" a few times while pretending to not fear the storm outside and the dark inside, I am blessed.  I am blessed to have a healthy six year old who trusts me to protect her from the dark and her fears.  I am blessed to have a home that keeps the wind and cold at bay when the storms rage.  I am blessed to have friends to call and chat with to keep my mind off the fear when the dark seems too big and my side kick is hiding under a blanket, but most of all I am supremely blessed to have a savior who does love me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.

This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there 
is no darkness at all. 


1 John 1:5

So, about last night....

At 11:45 pm on Saturday night...

Last night was one of those nights.  One of those nights where your kid throws up on someone else's living room floor.  One of those nights where you sit in an empty waiting room for the Dr. to tell you it isn't Strep Throat and you probably should of just went home and put your kid to bed.  One of those nights when your big grown up six year old all of a sudden becomes your little baby again.  

As I sat there, for an hour, in the empty waiting room, watching my little lady sleep...I realized once again how precious she is, how fragile she is, how sweet she is, and just how much my heart aches with love for her.  

So...I took a picture.  Maybe that is weird, but all at once I was flooded with the feeling that right now won't last very long and I wanted to save this moment for later, because soon she will be too big to carry to the car, soon she won't have me drive her to the Dr., soon she will be all grown up to the outside world, but to me she will always be my little lady Lily.  

Thank you God for my sweet girls, in sickness and in health. Amen.     

Where did my "Thankfulness" go?

Every year, around Thanksgiving time, I feel very blessed.  I can easily, without much effort, rattle off a list of people, places, and things I am truly thankful for:  my sweet family, my warm cozy house, my slippers, anything flavored with pumpkin spice...

I am very blessed and very cared for...but something happens to me the minute I start reading the Black Friday ads...my thankfulness disappears and I develop a case of the wants.  I try to dress this condition of greed up by telling myself I will be shopping for others, for Christmas presents, for my sweet family I mentioned earlier, but that is not entirely true.  I like the shopping, the getting, the possessing of material things that are pretty, cool, fun, attractive to my eye.  I struggle with materialism.  I am greedy....and deep down this greed, left unchecked, has the ability to crush my thankfulness. 

My plans were to shop...to buy fun things...to spend money that was better left unspent. 

God's plans were for me to care for my sick family. 

So this year I am thankful for Strep Throat and an ear infection.  Both of these conditions forced me to avoid feeding my greed in an effort to care for my loved ones.  Nothing like illness to produce a sudden realization of the value of health.  Both my husband Jason and my littlest kiddle Joanna were sick on Thanksgiving....Joanna with the ear infection and Jason with the Strep.  Both were miserable...and both needed my care for about two and a half days....about the exact length of the amazing Black Friday Sales.

Even though things didn't go as planned, I still had the opportunity to eat delicious food at my mom and dad's, visit with my FABULOUS in-laws, spend time with my sweet little Lily, watch movies with Jason and hold my baby JoJo for extended periods of time which she normally doesn't allow now that she is a toddler.  All in all Thanksgiving was ok, and I am even more thankful now that my family is healthy again.
 

Lily's turkey hand...love this!

My hero...

Not only is my husband Jason funny, smart, hardworking, and incredibly good looking...but it turns out he is a super hero.  Like Peter Parker or Clark Kent he may look like an average everyday kinda guy, but in the event of an emergency he develops super powers and saves trapped hunters from raging river waters. 

Today, like most Saturdays, my husband got up in the wee small hours of the morning to hunt ducks on the Snake River.  This year has been especially exciting because he not only has built a duck blind on a small rock island located in the middle of the river, he also is keeping a chart to record the results of each hunting trip.  Yes, he is completely obsessed with duck hunting, and I am completely not.  From fall to winter Jason lives for Saturday morning hunting trips.  It is a scheduled weekly event, no questions asked, every Saturday you can find him on the river, shot gun and duck calls in hand.  

This Saturday he of course went hunting...he returned home around noon...he cleaned ducks...he came upstairs looking for something to eat.  Pretty routine, nothing out of the ordinary, until the phone rang.  My parents called, they live on the river, right above the rapids...my dad's question:  "Did Jason leave one of his hunting buddies behind?"  Followed by...."This guy is stranded on the rocks right above the rapids."  My parents had called 911 in the hopes that someone could help this guy out. 

About 10 minutes later my mom calls back and asks Jason to come over.  When Jason gets there about 20 emergency workers have arrived:  EMT's, QRU's, Police officers, Fish and Game, Fire Department, etc.  I should mention that when Jason left he promises me he wouldn't get in the water, no river rafting for him. 

I head over to my parents about 10 minutes later to find Jason down with the emergency workers helping develop some type of plan.  The plan ends up being Jason and an EMT will head across the river in Jason's boat, tie the boat off on the opposite shore and float the empty boat out to the stranded man.

So here we are...on my parents deck...watching Jason and an EMT float closer and closer to the rapids, they find the opposite shore...get out of the boat and begin tying it off.  No problem so far...however, somehow, the plan changed.  Next thing I know, Jason is in the boat rowing directly towards the rapids and the guy stranded on the rock.  When Jason reaches the man, who at this time has been on the rock for about two hours, the exhausted, soaking wet hunter jumps in the boat.  The boat rocks a little...my heart stops a little...the EMT, on shore, begins pulling the boat, which is tied off still up river.  For the next couple minutes my father-in-law Eric, who also came by to watch the excitement unfold, assures me over and over again that Jason will be fine, and low and behold after about three minutes of anxiety, Jason and the hunter are sitting on the shore safe and sound. Praise God!

My husband, the river guide, saved the day.  Who knew that all of Jason's hunting adventures have been but training for life saving.  To the world he may seem like an average, normal everyday kinda guy, but to me he is a super hero in disguise. 

The peace of age...

At 31 sometimes I look in the mirror and fear the effects of the aging process.  Yesterday as Jason and I drove to church with the girls we discussed the signs of aging on our faces.  I pointed out the crow's feet developing around my eyes as he discussed his multiplying gray hairs.  We laughed at our vanity and promised to love each other even if...

I forgot all about our silly conversation...took the girls to Sunday school, grabbed a cup of coffee and headed into church, ten minutes late of course. 

In the middle of worship I noticed something...a woman in her golden years sitting one row in front of me and two people down worshipping God.   She was beautiful, peaceful, and joyful.  As our worship leader prayed between songs she whispered amen and nodded her head, quietly to God, focused on him.  I began to image her life...she most likely is a mother, a grandmother, a wife.  She most likely has experienced mountains and valleys, she most likely has laughed so hard her stomach ached and cried so hard her eyes had no tears left to give.  She has most likely lived at least thirty plus years more than myself, and she holds in her soul the wisdom of age.  The knowledge of experiencing heart ache and surviving it, experiencing joy and savouring it, experiencing trial and growing from it. 

As I sat there taking in this beautiful sight I remembered my silly, vain conversation with my husband and I realized that I was missing the beauty of the signs of age, the signs of wisdom, the signs of peace.

The glory of the young is their strength; the gray hair of experience is the splendor of the old.
Proverbs 20:28-30

Splendor defined means brilliant or gorgeous appearance, glory, grandeur, and great brightness.  As I witnessed God's glory in this aged woman's open devotion to him I saw splendor defined. I didn't see gray hair, wrinkles, or crow's feet.  I saw wisdom, peace, experience, strength and faith; a faith that comes from walking with God and seeing what he can do over time in one's life, a faith I look forward to having. 

My Extremely-Bad Couponing Adventure...

So is anyone else trying to jump on the couponing band wagon and missing it? 

I, a new stay-at-home-mom, had a bit of a breakdown yesterday.  After spending one hour and twenty two minutes trying to print coupons off the Target web-site, after driving the 24 miles to the big city of Twin, after spending two hours trying to locate the items on my list while deciphering the rules on each coupon, (Which, by the way, I carried in a zip lock baggy and transferred to my sweatshirt poach each time I put an item in the cart; not the most effective strategy.) ...after bribing my 18 month old with popcorn from the Target snack bar and a Fur-Real Pet she held throughout the store but had to return to it's home once we reached the register.... I saved...Are you ready for this?... $55.52. 

That sounds awesome right, really productive, and at first I was super stoked and proud of myself, but you know what they say about pride....here comes that fall.  Once I got home from my shopping adventure I took a minute to balance my check book and see what I really spent on my saving spree. 

$17.00 in gas to drive to Twin, $1.52 for popcorn, $3.79 for a Pumpkin Spice Latte that I couldn't resist, and $4.97 for a sweater I found on the 70% off rack that I should of tried on in the store because once I got it home and put it on I realized exactly why it was not the only, but one of eight identical sweaters on the 70% off rack....grand total of extra spending $27.28. 

Next, I factored in the time...1 hour 22 minutes searching for coupons, 30 minute trip to Twin times two, 2 hours entertaining 18 month old in Target while shopping, 13 minutes at the register trying to figure out why the check printing machine wouldn't work, and yes I wrote a check, an actual real live check, because my husband had my Debit card...and yes I was that lady, the one with the grumpy child who needed a nap about an hour ago, the one with 15 coupons wadded up in her sweatshirt pocket, the one writing a check when the girl behind her is just trying to buy a pack of gum and some paper towels...
Grand Total of Time Spent...4 hours and 35 minutes. 

Ok, so if my math is right, after extra expenses I saved $28.24 and lost 4 hours and 35 minutes.  Not sure if the savings was worth the investment this time.  

I want to say to all the amazing coupon gurus out there that you are my heroes; efficient, frugal, fabulous individuals. However, for me, right now, in my crazy little world, I think I will wave as the coupon band wagon rolls on by.  Maybe I will just shop the sales at the local markets, buy generic instead of name brand and have extra time to go to the park with my little girls.

I am not super mom. My laundry isn't all done. My kids eat too much sugar and not nearly enough vegetables.   I don't buy two carts of groceries for 3 dollars and 89 cents, and sometimes my check book isn't balanced and the bank charges me the dreaded overdraft fee. 




My breakdown:  I am just me.

My breakthrough:  Right now being just me is good enough.

Quote of the day:  "God made you special and he loves you very much."
                                                                                          -Bob the Tomato

To all the mommies in the world...

Yesterday I took my oldest girl to school for the first time.  She wore an amazingly fun outfit that she picked out.  She carried her brand new Littlest Pet Shop backpack and Scooby Doo Mystery Machine lunchbox with pride and excitement.  She had no reservations about starting school.  She woke up pumped and ready to go at 6:30. She asked to leave about fifteen times between 7:00 and 7:30.  She chose to ride with Daddy in his cool work truck because, and I am guessing here, he drives a little faster than Mommy, and yes we were those parents who both went to drop her off because even though she held zero reservations about the whole event, we were both a little nervous about leaving our little one at school for the day.  Joanna and I followed in my car praying the whole way. 

I expected to cry, to be sad, to miss my Lily...but I didn't feel any of the expected emotions.  Her excitement was infectious and all I felt was joy for her optimism and expectant hope of how amazing the next phase in her little life would be.  She is my firecracker, ready to take on the world.

The above picture is my new favorite...As all moms do, I wanted to have the morning-of-the-first-day-of-school picture, prior to recess and dust and sweaty feet that have grown accustom to running in flip flops longing to be free from the confines of hot socks and tennis-shoes.  I asked Lily to pause in her excitement for a quick snap shot.  She immediately smiled, struck the above pose, and yelled excitedly, "I can't wait to start kindergarten!"  This little boy and what I can only assume was his brother, both upper elementary aged.  Were walking by and smiled at my daughter's joyous declaration.  I love my Lily.  She is amazing and I will never forget how excited she was.

Harvest Time

Sweet moments watching my little ones pick tomatoes... 

All of our watering and weeding is paying off.  I love watching my little girls pick tomatoes and eat tomatoes.  They both bite into them like apples.  Love it.  Messy, giggling, searching, finding, loving life.  Soooo much fun.  Thank you Lord for all of your sweet creations, from tomatoes to little girls. 

Why is brushing your hair and teeth so painful when you are five?

Every morning around 8 am my five year old and I have a battle between her knotted hair and my hair brush.  She usually screams in agony as I try to, as gently as possible, remove the knots and tangles that her pillow has created.  I would like to report that this is the only daily task that reduces her to a puddle of tears, but sadly I cannot.  She usually loses it over brushing her teeth with toothpaste, which she claims is "too spicy" even though I have purchased the kid's watermelon or strawberry flavor, washing her hair and eating most vegetables.  Not sure why, but she seems to be protesting any process that produces cleanliness and health.  If it were up to my litttle lady she would leave the house unbrushed, unwashed, sporting her mismatched pj's and a pair of flip flops...stinky yet comfortable.

As I consider this current stage in her life, I look at my own walk with Christ.  I think sometimes I must sound very much like my angry five year old.  "Pray Danielle, read your Bible Danielle, wash in the daily cleansing of my word"....yet I protest.  I allow other daily tasks to take the place of the most important...connecting with God through spending time in his word and prayer.  When I start my day spending time with God, I am encouraged, filled up, ready to take on the day...when I don't, I am tangled, mismatched, frustrated easily, reduced to a puddle of tears by minor glitches in my daily routine. 

I've tried to explain to my five year old the long term effects of not brushing her teeth and not combing her hair; a toothless, tangled future.  As I negotiate yet again the morning routine, I start to consider the long term results of not developing daily time with my lord and savior.  Maybe I will have all my teeth and my hair won't be tangled, but I will not grow spiritually. I will become weak and frail, and I will miss out on the abundant life God has planned for me. 

This week's goal:  Spend time with God daily...and get my mini me to cooperate in cleanliness without too much protesting.  Pray for me. 

Million Dollar View

When did preparing for vacation become so exhausting? 

When I was a little kiddle VACATION was one of my favorite words.  Vacation meant camping, Disneyland, the beach, grandma's house...the possibilities were endless and always exciting to think about and prepare for.   Like pizza on Friday nights, vacations never seemed like a bad idea.  Now, as a mother with small children, vacation isn't always a happy thought.  Just as pizza is no longer my first choice of food on a Friday night, vacations don't always sound like a good idea.  Not to sound negative but I now understand why my parents were happy to return home after a long week away in a motor home, tent, van, with three young children and the dog.  I now know why my mom seemed exasperated while preparing to leave and why my dad and her usually spent the first ten minutes in the car reviewing the mental checklist of things forgotten and reassuring one another that they didn't really need to bring that item after all.  I now understand the behind the scenes activities that accompany preparing for take off...even if it is just a road trip. 

Today, as my own family prepared for such a trip I took a moment to learn a lesson from my oldest little girl.  I was on the deck, soaking the flower buckets and checking on the tomatoes when I heard my Lily playing.  She was on the front stairs with a few toys, a couple stuffed animals and a bucket of dog food that she added a couple of cups of water to in an effort to make soup for her stuffed pets.  She was giggling and singing and telling her toys all about our exciting adventure to come.  I just stopped for a moment and listened.  It was like traveling back in time.  I immediately felt seven years old, barefoot standing on the warm summer driveway in the evening, watching my dad pack the car, day dreaming of all the possibilities that lay ahead.  For a moment I felt the care free excitement of childhood that allows one to truly experience all that life has to offer, free from the stress and worry that adulthood brings.

For a moment it was nice to see the world through the eyes of my little girl.  And you know what? Life looks pretty sweet through her eyes.

Step 1...

Today I realized that I have lost the capacity to spend time alone and truly enjoy it. Pre-motherhood I could wander a store solo, spend an afternoon bike riding independently, read a book while lounging on my living room floor without anyone to talk to and truly feel at rest and at peace in my solitude. However, in the last five years I have slowly, without noticing, unlearned the art of quiet time.

Today when I left my house around noon, my two little ones entrusted to an awesome babysitter, I was looking forward to three hours of almost free time awaiting me in the big city, alone...able to shop and run errands without anyone complaining, whining, arguing, crying, etc.  In theory this all sounded utterly blissful; in reality, it felt utterly lonely. I guess I have grown accustom to being a party of three.  After spending the last two months as The Three Amigas, I feel a little lost when I do not have my girls in tow. 

I guess there are two sides to this coin, two truths that must learn to coexist some how without canceling each other out. Truth 1:   I am a mom and thus my heart is joined to my childrens' hearts.  Being apart from them feels a little like leaving the house only wearing one earring or one shoe, uncomfortable and out of sorts.  Second truth:  I am an individual who needs time to recoup, think, run errands uninterrupted, sing too loud to the radio in the car with the windows down on back country roads where only the wind, dogs and cows can hear (Not that I do that.  ;) , breathe, have time alone for me and God to chat.  Not spending time alone with me, myself, and God feels a little like losing touch with an old friend, regretful and sad. 

Answer:  Not sure....but isn't the first step admitting the problem.  On the road to recovery...one step at a time.