Wait for the Wind

Recently we bought a kite for the boys at Sam's Club.  It's this great big kite that looks like a robot, and the boys were brimming with excitement.  All we had to do was wait for the right day with some wind. 

One evening after Aaron got home we decided to go for it.  We weren't sure if the wind would be strong enough or not, but we had to try!  Malachi was especially looking forward to it.

We drove over to Bittersweet Park, where there is plenty of room for kite flying.  The flags at the monument were waving bravely in the wind, and we hoped that meant good things for our endeavour.  We warned the boys that there might not be enough wind, but that we would try.

We released the kite from its box and put it together.  Aaron tried first to see if he could get it into the air.  Time and time again, it would fly for a minute or two and then come crashing down.  There was wind, but not quite enough to keep it alfoat for a long period of time. 

After several of these tries, Aaron decided there was not enough wind and we took the boys over to the playground.  Izzy and Simeon were perfectly fine with this turn of events, but Malachi was heartbroken.  He so wanted to fly that kite!  We tried to explain that there just wsn't enough wind, but he desperately wanted to have a turn flying it.  Finally Aaron went back out in the open field with him and tried to give a few short-lived turns with the flying robot.

Before long it began to get cold and the sun began to set and we were getting hungry; it was time to go.  Even though Aaron had tried to accomodate Chi, he was still very disappointed with how things had gone.  He had been able to fly the kite a few times, but it just wasn't quite enough for him.  What's more, he blamed Aaron for all of it.  Somehow it was Daddy's fault that the kite would not fly.  As we pulled out of the parking lot, he was in tears, and nothing we said, from comforting words to telling him to just be thankful for what he got, could help.

Today Aaron and I were talking about it again, and it struck me how similarly we act with God sometimes.  We have a beautiful new kite and we want to fly it.  We want to fly it now!  So we take it to the park and we try our best, but there isn't enough wind.  And we blame God.  Nevermind that we are attempting to fly the kite in the wrong conditions, somehow it is God's fault.  We want what we want, and we want it now, and God should just make the wind happen when we want it to, we shouldn't have to wait until the right time...right? 

How often do we blame God for situations that we have gotten ourselves into?  We didn't ask Him for guidance, or if we did, we didn't wait for an answer.  Or maybe we got an answer, "There's not enough wind right now, you need to wait," and we didn't like it, so we did what we wanted anyway.

This hits home for me.  This is one of those moments when my children exasperate me with how they act and then I realize that I do the same thing.  It's rather humbling.  There have been many times when I wanted it my way and didn't care if it was the right time or not.  But if I would have waited, I might have found my kite flying high instead of crashing to the ground.  I might have found the result to be joy instead of tears and frustration. 

In the end, I'm encouraged.  I'm encouraged to trust Him, and to be thankful for what I have, even if it isn't always exactly what I want. 

I Live in His Grace

"For He has delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, and my feet from falling."

Psalm 116:8

Last night before I went to sleep, the crazy notion entered my brain to read my Bible.  I saw it sitting there on the dresser, and thought that maybe for once, instead of reading a novel or my baby names book before I go to bed, I ought to read the Word of God. 

I'm sure that most of you reading this, being the excellent and super-amazing Christians that you are, read your Bible every day anyway.  But I will be honest and say that I don't. 

At one time, I did.  Back when I was single, going to school, and had very few responsibilities.  I read it then.  I read it a lot then.  And now I am so glad I did, because it is all still there in my heart, and the Holy Spirit reminds me of what I've learned and what I've read, and it feeds me.  It was feasting time then; now it is famine. 

For these days, these crazy days of screaming children and messes, bills, dirty dishes, and dirtier diapers, these days it is rare to have enough time to even settle my mind enough to have a "quiet time" with God. 

These days, I live on His grace and His goodness.  And I have found that He meets me right where I am. 

In the same way that my husband and I now have to schedule an actual date night, and take the few minute snatches of time to talk and reconnect instead of spending hours and hours together every day, I have found my brief meetings and dates with God to be so much more special and meaningful now than ever before. 

So last night, when I read this verse, I knew He was speaking to me.  He was telling me that He has me. 

There is an anguish of the soul that can feel like death, but I need not fear it.  He has delivered me from it. 

And all those tears I have cried feeling like I can never be enough or do enough, that I am a failure?  He has delivered me from those as well. 

All the times I stumble and fall, when I mess up and I cringe because I did the wrong thing again?  He's got it covered. 

Yes, I live in His grace--and His grace is sufficient.

A Change in Strands

For quite a while, I have been growing my hair out.  I thought this was a great idea, until I realized how long the "awkward in-between stage" was lasting, and how much longer it was going to last, and added the fact that I will probably end up just wearing my hair in a ponytail most of the time.  I began to wonder, "Why am I going through all of this just so I can wear my hair in a ponytail?  I could cut it and it could look really cute without me having to do very much at all."  So that is what I did. 

Here is me before the haircut. 

And here is my hair now!

Give Him Some Credit

There have been things in my life that God has asked me to do, and I've done them, only to wonder "why?" later.  I would wonder why He would ask me to do something, knowing how ill-equipped I was.  "Shouldn't You have picked someone else?" I would repeatedly say to Him.  Lately, I've begun to realize that He picked me exactly because I'm ill-equipped.  If I were perfectly able to do the task on my own, I could take credit for myself.  I'd probably end up feeling very proud and thinking how wonderful I am for my accomplishments. 

My whole life, I've heard the answer to the question, "Why are we here?" as "To bring God glory."  I don't think I ever really understood what that meant until now.  I used to mentally shrug at that answer, not certain of how that applied to my life.  It seemed such a vague statement.  I think if you exchange the word "glory" for the word "value", though, it makes more sense.  It's not that we can somehow cause God to have more value, but we can cause people to see His value, the value that is already there.

If I were entirely able to do what God asked on my own, how would that show anyone God's value?  My accomplishments would be credited only to me.  But when I find myself in a place of reliance on Him, the results belong entirely to Him, not me.

I've mentioned this in other blogs, but I go back to it because it is one of those memories that I always return to, "threading the beads of detail into an eternal loop, a rosary to be fingered for a lifetime" (from the book Atonement by Ian McEwen--I love that quote). 

It was my Senior year of High School, and up until that point I had always gone to a Christian school.  That year, however, I believed God was telling me to go to public school instead.  I had grand aspirations to tell everyone about Jesus, be a friend to the friendless, sit with the kid who was all alone at the lunch table, and just generally "be a light", to use a familiar "Christianese" term.  It all sounded really good beforehand.  Actually being there turned out to be very different from what I expected. 

I've always been a quiet person, but in Junior High and High School, I was dreadfully shy.  It was very hard for me to talk to new people.  The first half of that year, I literally dreaded going to school.  I don't think I had any conversations about Jesus.  I was happy if I could just have a conversation at all, about anything, without feeling horribly nervous. 

I would walk to the library after school to wait for my mom, and I would have conversations with God that went something like, "What were You thinking, asking me to come here?  It makes no sense.  You know how bad I am at this."  I felt pretty much like a failure.  Not just while I was there, but for a long time after I had graduated, I would still look back and wonder why I was there.

I am seeing now that my inadequacies, failures, and weaknesses all served a purpose: to give God the credit.  If there is even one person who came to Christ because of me being there, I can say with all certainty that it wasn't because of anything I said or did.  It was all God.  I was there and I was willing...and that's about it. 

This all relates directly to where I am right now in my life.  I am a mother.  It sounds so simple.  Especially to people who have no children.  To those people, I am "just a mother."  Instead of "doing something with my life" I "just" got married and had kids.  What a waste, right?  It's the kind of thing people shake their heads over.  "She's already got three kids, and she's only 26."  And I want to have more.  This is what God asked me to do.  So I'm doing it.  

But it's anything but simple.  I had beautiful pictures painted in my head of how wonderful it was going to be, and how I was going to "raise up a Godly generation".  Well, now that I'm here, I can honestly say that most of the time I don't know what the hell I'm doing.  I'm pretty sure that's exactly where God wants me, that place where I realize I'm not going to even make it through the day if He doesn't help me, let alone, "raise up a Godly generation" all on my own. 

At this point, all I can do is be here, and be willing.  If these boys turn out well, you better believe that I'm giving God all the credit!  And that is exactly what He wants. 

Trust or Torment

In a Bible study I've been doing, the question was asked, "What situation most recently tempted you toward mental torment?"  My answer came from something that had been bothering me within the last week or so, but as we talked about this question in my discussion group, I began to remember other situations.  One, in particular stood out to me.

Not too long ago we were at Wal-Mart getting groceries.  When we got to the check-out, we realized that Izzy wasn't with us.  Aaron went to look for him while I continued tranferring the groceries from the cart to the check-out.  That particular time was a big shopping trip, and we had a lot of stuff.  As the cart began to empty, I was waiting for them to come back.  But they didn't.  It was taking a long time, it seemed, for Aaron to find him. 

Scenarios began to run through my mind.  What if he went outside?  What if he was lost?  What if someone took him?  What if someone hurts him? 

With all the horrible stories of children being abducted and the things that can happen, my heart quailed at the idea of something like that happening to him.  "Not my son!" I thought with anguish.  And then I heard God speak to me.  "No, MY son," is what He said.  "Don't you think I will take care of him?  Don't you know I love him more than you do?" 

At that moment, I felt peace in my heart.  God was reminding me that Israel doesn't belong to me.  He belongs to Him, and He will take care of him, because He loves him more than I am even capable of doing. 

I can't be with my kids all the time to protect them from life or from pain.  In fact, even when I am with them, I can't always keep them from being hurt.  But I know that God is with them all the time.  They belong to Him, and He will take care of them.

I have done a few different Bible studies in the last year or so on different books of the Bible, and there is one mesage that has come through very clearly to me: GOD IS IN CONTROL.  He knows what's going to happen.  He isn't surprised.  And no matter what is going on, even if it seems bad, even if it seems terrible, even downright evil--in the end, HIS purpose will be accomplished.

What is required of me, is trust. 

My Funeral

I am not sure why, but this morning I was thinking about what I'd want my funeral to be like.

I don't really care whether I'm cremated or buried--whichever feels like the right thing to the people left behind.  Well, I guess to be honest, I would rather be buried.  But if it's easier to cremate me, I say go ahead.  I'm not going to care at that point.  

I don't want anyone to wear black to my funeral.  I want it to be like one of those old-fashioned wakes where there is lots of food and people laughing and remembering my life, not my death.  

And I want The Princess Bride to be playing in the background, because it is pretty much the best movie ever and I can almost quote every line from it.  

I want the funeral programs to have two Bible verses on it.  The first is 1 Thessalonians 4:12 & 13, "But I do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning those who have fallen asleep, lest you sorrow as others who have no hope.  For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who sleep in Jesus."  When I die, I will be with Jesus.  Nothing sad about that.

The second verse is Psalm 63:1, "Oh God, You are my God; early will I seek You; my soul thirsts for You; my flesh longs for You in a dry and thirsty land where there is no water."  This is my life verse, and it defines the core of who I am.  God is as much a part of me as the heart that beats in my chest.  I take Him for granted sometimes, just like I take my heart for granted, but the reality is that I know I can't live without Him.  Trust me when I say I have no wish to die, but I know that when I do, that will be the day I thirst no more.

I realize this may seem a bit morbid to some; a twenty-six year-old writing about her funeral is a wee bit creepy, I'll admit.  Well, all I can say is don't read too much into it.  I don't have a fatal illness or even some sort of strange premonition.  I just think about weird stuff.

Before and After

Before I became a mom, if someone had told me about all the things that would happen to me after I became a mom, I really don't know if I would have still wanted to have kids.  

I mean when you look at it from an objective standpoint, it just doesn't sound too good.  Think about it.  

These have been my experiences as a mom so far: long, miserable pregnancy, swollen feet, heartburn, painful labor, painful childbirth (hey, those are just given), waking up repeatedly in the middle of the night, getting up way earlier than I would ever choose to since I am just going to stay at home anyway, cleaning up food spills, poo, vomit, dirt and various other things, painful breastfeeding, screaming toddlers, whining, children who run away at the park, and at home, children who kick other kids in the face, little boys who start fighting with each other almost as soon as they wake up, crying, arguing, demands which they expect to be met immediately even if I don't have the juice that they seem to so desperately need, refusal to play outside, break-downs because they have to stay inside, bath times where more water ends up on the floor than in the tub, mountains of laundry, a house that is never clean, and increasingly smaller amounts of time to myself.  I could probably go on, but I think you get the picture.   

I said earlier that if someone had told me all that before I became a mom, I might have second thoughts.  There's a good chance that in my youthful naiveté, I would have laughed it off and thought, "Oh it can't really be all that bad."  Well, it can be that bad.  And it can be worse.  

Now here is the mystery of it all.  After going through all of that and actually being a mom, if someone gave me a chance to go back and do it over, if I had a chance to change my mind and do something else instead of being a mom, you'd think I would jump at the chance.  But I wouldn't.  

I wouldn't trade those wonderfully wild little creatures that are my children for anything in the world.  Don't get me wrong, there are moments when I could just about give them away to passing stranger ("Take them!  Take them!  They're driving me insane!")  But when it's all said and done, I love them so fiercely and so much, I would never let them go.  It makes no sense.  But there you have it.  God gave them to me, and I want to keep them.  And I want more!  Because those kids have been the cause of some of the worst moments of my entire life, and they bring out the worst in me too.  But those kids are also the cause of the best moments of my life, and I know that God uses them to shape me into the woman He's made me to be.    

Messy Ever After

Not long ago I wrote optimistically of how certain I was that my messy days were diminishing.  Well, I think I spoke a little too soon.  

My problem, I think, is that I underestimated my son's ability to stay out of things and not make a mess.  And then I overestimated the ability of the apple juice lid to stay on the bottle and hold in the apple juice.  I also failed to factor in the circumstances of making eggs and talking on the phone at the same time, thus rendering me too distracted to get Israel his juice before a disaster struck.  Therefore, a disaster did  strike.  

Now, of course, in the grand scheme of things, this was nothing.  Compared to the entire world and the events of the entire world, and hurricanes and tornadoes and war and poverty and AIDS epidemics, this was basically a nonevent.  But in my world, my small, everyday, mommy world, this definitely qualifies as a event.  

You see what happened was that Israel tried to pick up the juice container, one of those big Wal-Mart apple juices, which was about three quarters full.  Obviously, it was very heavy for an almost three year old, which resulted in him dropping it.  That's when, somehow or other, the lid must've hit the floor, and it broke.  

And that is when half of the apple juiced poured out onto the kitchen floor.  

And that's when I almost burned the eggs because I was trying frantically to mop up the juice.  

And while I was keeping the eggs from burning, Izzy decided to squeeze out the paper towels that had soaked up the juice all over the floor.  As if there wasn't enough juice on the floor already.  

And that is when I considered tearing out my hair.

Third Time's A Charm

So, this is my tribute to my third baby boy....

Simeon, my third son.  By now it would seem I have seen it all, there is nothing new.  I have seen all the firsts twice over.  But the third time's a charm.  And I am charmed by him.  There is something special about him, beautiful and buoyant.  His eyes have so much life it brings tears to mine.  Eyes so deep and mossy green, but bright, shining, reflecting.  His eyes tell me he knows a good secret.  If only he had words to tell me.  He smiles as though I have just told him a good joke.

Around Christmastime, I was really struggling to be "merry".  I usually love Christmas, but this past year was hard.  I was homesick and feeling low, and Malachi was SO excited that I felt that I couldn't possibly be excited too or the world would implode or something.  We were short on money, so I knew I wouldn't be getting a whole lot, and I have to confess, I LOVE PRESENTS!  I love giving them and I love getting them.  As a Christian, I feel like confessing this is tantamount to saying I am secretly a kleptomaniac or a compulsive liar, or even something worse.  You know, we're supposed to be all about giving and not care if we get anything.  Well, I care.  There I said it.  

Anyway, whatever the reason, I was bummed.  And I remember one night, I was sitting in my bedroom on my bed holding Simeon in my arms, and I thought, "This is the best gift I could ever receive."  I knew that even if I got nothing else, I had the most precious gift in my arms. 

I really do feel delighted by him.  And lately, I feel like God has helped me to delight in all my boys more.  It is too easy to get caught up in everything and forget to really enjoy them.  I ask God to help me all the time with that.  And He does.  

Just Laugh it Off

Around the age of thirteen or so, I was not particularly graceful.  I was thin and probably a little gangly, and I was always tripping over something--my own two feet if nothing else.  At the time, I was extremely embarrassed by my klutziness, and I could imagine nothing worse than having someone witness it

Now that I'm older, I can't say that I'm a whole lot more graceful.  I still trip and fall over things.  I've even fallen up the stairs (yes, UP) a time or two.  The difference is I'm not so embarrassed anymore.  I realize how funny it must look, so I laugh (well, I laugh as long as I don't hurt myself).  It's to the point that if I am going to trip and fall, I kind of hope someone is there to see it, that way if it makes them laugh, at least I didn't go down in vain.  I've been there for a few spectacular falls with a few of my friends, and I can say wholeheartedly that if it were me, I would want them to see it, because it was REALLY funny.  Just thinking about it can still make me laugh.

At Bible school I had these shoes that were always making me fall.  I don't know if they weren't the right size or if I didn't strap them tight enough, but they were not safe to walk on.  There were two times in particular that I fell wearing those shoes, and no one saw either one, but if they had they would have laughed their socks off.  

The first time, I was leaving class and going back to my dorm room when I suddenly misstepped and fell into some bushes.  There was a whole crowd of people nearby, but when I looked back, not one person was looking my direction.  

The second time, I was up in the balcony and was walking down the stairs when one of my shoes mutinied once again and I did this crazy spin-turn-fall.  And yet again, no one was around, no one saw.  That I know of!  There could very well be a person out there who still laughs thinking about the girl who fell into the bushes.

Is there a moral to this story?  Possibly.  Do I know what it is? No.  Let's try something like this: Learn to laugh at yourself.  Or how about, "Embrace your inner klutz."  Or outer klutz, in my case.

Only You

Where is my passion?

Where did it go?

The depths of my heart have closed.

And only the shallows exposed.

The passion is there I know

Somewhere in the deep it flows.

I can't seem to let it out

I begin to doubt that I can

I can't

Only You can free me

In all the ways I need freedom

I don't want to be locked away

I want to be free

I want to let go

Let go of control

And fear

Fear of unknown

Fear of being known

I want to be known by You

I am Your love, Your servant, Your Bride

I belong to You

Only You

This morning, I was inspired to write this poem because of the song "Worlds Apart" by Jars of Clay, which we sang today in church.  Here are some of the lyrics that particularly stand out to me:

I look beyond the empty cross

forgetting what my life has cost

and wipe away the crimson stains

and dull the nails that still remain

More and more I need you now,

I owe you more each passing hour

the battle between grace and pride

I gave up not so long ago

So steal my heart and take the pain

and wash the feet and cleanse my pride

take the selfish, take the weak,

and all the things I cannot hide

take the beauty, take my tears

the sin-soaked heart and make it yours

take my world all apart

take it now, take it now

and serve the ones that I despise

speak the words I can't deny

watch the world I used to love

fall to dust and thrown away

I look beyond the empty cross

forgetting what my life has cost

so wipe away the crimson stains

and dull the nails that still remain

so steal my heart and take the pain

take the selfish, take the weak

and all the things I cannot hide

take the beauty, take my tears

take my world apart, take my world apart

I pray, I pray, I pray

take my world apart

To love You - take my world apart

To need You - I am on my knees

To love You - take my world apart

To need You - broken on my knees

It's a song I have heard many times before, but it meant something new to me today.  It's amazing how God can take anything and make it new to use for His purposes.  Even me:)

Seven (But Not the Deadly Sins)

In honor of my niece, Mackenzie, here are seven things you may or may not know about me.

1.  I have an extreme capacity for not getting tired of things.  I will get obsessed with something, like a TV show or a book series, and I will watch it or read it until there is nothing more to watch or read, and I won't get sick of it.  I could probably sit and watch endless hours of a TV marathon and be perfectly happy.  At the end, I will be sad there isn't more, and sad that I now have to find something else equally interesting.  When I finally read the Harry Potter series (with skepticism) and discovered how good the books were, and I read them non-stop.  Then I read The Tales of Beedle the Bard, which is connected.  Then I also watched all the movies.  Then I read Looking for God in Harry Potter.  I pretty much exhausted the resources.  When I was in kindergarden, I loved the John Wayne movie Rio Lobo.  For a long time I watched it every day after school, until I finally had the whole thing memorized.  I really get a lot of enjoyment out of having a good obsession now and then.

2.  When I was twelve, I thought it sounded like fun to run away from home.  I was very practical about it and planned that I would need to save about $3000 and I was going to wait til I was around sixteen years old.  I am not entirely sure what my thinking was behind wanting to do that.  I guess I thought it sounded nice to just leave, you know, just go wherever I wanted, without having a plan.  Then, of course, I planned it all out and that must have taken all the fun out of it for me because obviously I never did it.


3.  When I was sixteen I went on a mission trip to Toronto, Canada to reach out to the homeless.  The first day we were there we all went to exchange our money and then walked around downtown a bit.  My friend Scott and I decided to go up on this walkway and see if there were any homeless people up there.  I told my friend Angie where we were going, but when we came back down our group was nowhere in sight.  We were completely and utterly lost in this huge foreign city (I say foreign because we had never been there before, not because it was in Canada--even though Canada technically is foreign, I guess).  We tried asking a few people for directions, but no one seemed to have heard of the Neill-Wycik, where we were staying.  Fortunately for us, there were a bunch of moose statues all around the city, and we basically followed the ones we recognized to get back to where we needed to be.  It was really hot, and we were so hungry, and probably a little scared.  The crazy thing is that when we got back, no one seemed to have noticed that we were gone--not even Angie!


4.  The first year I was at Christ For the Nations they had a big ice storm.  The school is in Dallas, Texas.  Dallas is usually very hot, and in the winter it might get a little snow, but an ice storm was quite out of the ordinary.  Everything was covered in ice, the grass, the trees, the roads, the sidewalks...and the concrete slanting down from the freeway to the off-ramp.  It was probablly the most reckless and dangerous thing I've ever done, but some friends and I went sledding down it.  It really didn't seem dangerous at the time, because, as I mentioned, snow and ice were oddities in Dallas, which means that the drivers were all terrified, and there were only a few people even out driving.  The ones that were out braving the cold and ice were driving so slow that a turtle could have started crossing the road when a car got off onto the ramp, and safely get all the way to the other side before the car ever got there.  Still, it's the kind of thing most parents would not want their child doing, even if their child is nineteen years old.  Later, after Aaron and I were together, I found out that he had driven past us on the way to work and thought something along the lines of "Look at those idiots!" 


5.  After watching a comedy video of Anita Renfroe talking about how her grandma kept all the stuff she needed in her bra instead of a purse, I am semi-seriously considering going this route.  Without a purse, I'd have one less thing to carry, I wouldn't have to spend money on a new one, and everything I need would be close at hand all the time.  Not to mention, I'd get to see the looks on people's faces when I pull money out of my bra.


6.  If I ask people for money, they usually give it to me.  Not a lot of money, but small amounts.  In sixth grade I bought a snickers bar every day after school from the concession stand and if I didn't have the money, I would ask for it from someone else.  In eighth grade I would ask the school principal sometimes for quarters so I could get a drink out of the pop machine and he would usually give them to me.  So I guess that makes me a bum.  But a successful one :)  Now that I've written this people will probably never give me money anymore.  There's something to be said for not giving away all your secrets.


7.  I love sarcasm and wordplay, and just words in general.  I even like cheesy puns that have a double meaning, like this one, "I've been to the dentist a thousand time so I know the drill."  My most favorite movies are ones that have great lines you can quote.  I love the show House because of his sarcasm, even though I know if someone actually said to me the things he says I would hate it.  But it's funny because it's happening to someone else.  I love the silly wordy humor of Mad Libs, and I love Scrabble and crossword puzzles (just not the really hard ones!) and I like the way words sound sometimes, like "cruciverbalist" (which means "a designer or aficionado of crossword puzzles").

This is My Call

This morning at church, this question was asked, "Where and to whom is God's calling taking you right now?"

This is my answer.

Where is God's calling taking me?  It is taking me to my own home.  And to whom?  To my own family; my husband, my children.  It is so simple, and yet it is the hardest thing I have ever done. 

It is harder than going to a new school.  Harder than moving to a new town.  It's harder than talking to homeless strangers on the streets of Toronto or trying to show God's love to other students in a public school.  It's harder than learning a dance and a drama as a means of sharing Christ in a foreign country. 

All those things I have done, and all of them were difficult in some way or another.  They all challenged me and stretched the limits of what I was comfortable with. 

None of those things, however, has been as challenging as being a mom.  Anyone can be a mother.  It takes no special skill for a woman to carry and give birth to a child.  Women's bodies are essentially designed for it. 

But to be a mom, to care for and love, and pour your life into your children, and show them Who Christ is, that is a different thing entirely.  And that is what I'm called to do. 

Being responsible for other lives is at times overwhelming.  I often feel at a loss.  I don't know exactly what to do all the time.  I am in unfamilair territory, leading these little children through life's jungles and just hoping, hoping and praying that I am going the right way. 

It is harder than anything else I've ever done in response to the call of God because everything I do directly affects them.  These little people see me every day.  They see me when I'm tired, sick, and angry.  They see me when I'm happy, sad, and depressed.  They see me lonely, scared, and frusterated.  They see my selfishness, and they see me when I hold them at night after a bad dream.  They see everything.  Even if they don't understand it, they see it, they feel it. 

There is nowhere for me to hide.  My life is bared before my family, and because of that I am constantly in need of the grace of God in my life.  I am constantly running to Jesus for the strength I need to make it through the day, and to be the woman I am called to be.  How like God to ask of me something that I so often feel utterly incapable and inadequate of doing.  It forces me to look straight into the face of my need for Him.

God Calling

When I was a little girl, I would hear my mom talk about God, and how He spoke to her.  Because of her, I knew that God was real, and I wanted so badly to know Him, and to hear Him speak to me also.  Most of my life, I struggled with this.  I was never sure if He was really speaking to me or if I was just imagining things.  Looking back, I am so thankful, because I realize that I don't worry about that anymore.  Sometimes I do have doubts, but usually, I know when God is speaking to me.  It's just a matter of listening.

A couple of years ago, God showed me something about hearing His voice.  It is just like a friendship.  When you first meet someone and become friends, they might call you on the phone.  When you answer, you won't immediately recognize their voice because you just met them and you don't know them well.  As time goes on, and you know each other better and better.  Then if they call, you won't even ask who it is, you'll just know.  You will recognize their voice.  It is the same with God.  The longer you are in relationship with Him, looking for Him, and listening for Him, the easier it is to hear His voice and know that it's Him. 

Wisdom Teeth

At nine o'clock tomorrow morning I am going to have my wisdom teeth removed.

They are going to put me completely under, which is a good thing, but it makes me nervous.  Better than being awake for the whole thing, I guess.  Still, for whatever reason, I look forward to it with much trepidation.  I was really, really hoping I would be one of those people who don't need to have their wisdom teeth removed.  No such luck.

The nice part is that Aaron is taking the day off for it, and

Monday too, so it will be a four day weekend.  Also, his parents are keeping the older boys for us for a couple of days.  Knowing that causes me to swing back and forth between being nervous and being excited.  The boys will be gone.  Aaron will be home.  I'll be able to sleep, relax, maybe watch a couple movies if I'm not totally out of it.  If it weren't for the teeth pulling part, it'd almost be a vacation!

In any case, I may be taking the next two or three days off from my blog, so if you read it as often as I write it, now you will know why I won't have a new post.

Through The Years

Picture 1: 2005
Picture 2: 2006
Picture 3: 2007
Picture 4: 2008
Picture 5: 2009

(I would have put pictures from before 2005 also, but we didn't have a digital camera *way* back then)

Surrender

"Surrender."  That seems to be the word of the day.  It's so easy to say, but so hard to do.  When I hear God saying this to me, my spirit responds with a resounding "YES!"  But I start thinking, and I wonder, "Can I really do it?"  Can I really surrender? 

What would that look like?  What would it look like if I woke up in the morning and surrendered that day to God, if I let go of my ideas of what should happen or not happen, if I let God move me in the currents of His will and not mine? 

It's an exciting thought.  And a rather frightening one.  Let go of being in control?  Let go of all my preconceived ideas and plans?  No way!  But that is the only way.

If I could I would write out "the five infallible steps to surrender".  Unfortunately, if such things exist, I certainly don't know about it.  I'm not writing to tell you how.  I don't know how.  Honestly, the longer I walk with God, the more I come to realize that I can do nothing on my own, using my own strength and knowledge.  My knowledge is foolishness compared to the wisdom of God.  My strength is weakness when set side by side with the mighty arm of God. 

In light of that, I guess the first thing I will be surrendering is trying to surrender by myself.  God will have to help me.  First, He'll have to show me the moments when I am  not surrendering.  Second, He'll have to help me see the things I don't want to let go of.  Third, He'll have to remind me that I did tell Him I wanted to surrender.  Fourth, after I say "oh, yeah, that's right, I did say that didn't I?" He'll have to show me again the areas of my life that I haven't surrendered.  I am so thankful that He is patient.

"Then Jesus said to the twelve, 'Do you also want to go away?'  But Simon Peter answered Him, 'Lord, to whom shall we go?  You have the words of eternal life.'"  John 6:67-68

What Do You Expect

Today was another MOPS day for me, and I'm really finding them to be very refreshing.  With each meeting I feel more comfortable, and because of that, I am enjoying it more and more.  The woman who spoke to us today talked about being in love with Jesus, how that's the best thing we can do for our kids.  When I look back at my childhood and at my mother, I know this to be true.  My mother wasn't perfect, but she did love Jesus, and she showed me that He is real.  Ultimately, I want that for my children, for them to know that He is real.  The speaker also said that it's not our job to be perfect, or even to try to create perfection.  She mentioned how we often try to do things that God hasn't even asked us to do, and we wear ourselves out. 

That really resonated with me, because I often expect so much of myself, and they aren't always realistic expectations.  I try to be what my idea of perfect is, or what I think Aaron's idea of perfect is, or I look at other women, other moms, and compare myself and feel like I don't meet that standard that they seem to set.  Then I feel like I've failed.  And feeling like a failure never really changes or helps the situation. 

The thing is, I'm trying to be in control, and I'm not meant to be.  God is meant to be in control of my life, and He made me to be me, not anyone else.  I don't mean that to be an excuse for shortcomings and faults that can be changed, but rather to say that God has made me for a specific purpose and when I try to be something else, it doesn't work.  If a vacuum cleaner tries to be a water hose, it's going to fail quite miserably, and no one would be surprised by that.  It is the same with people.  The difference is that people don't always know themselves, and they don't always know their purpose, and to compound the problem, some people don't know God either.  Who else can tell you what you were made to be, other than the Maker? 

I realized again today that what matters most is that I look to Him, and ask Him what He wants from me.  And maybe what matters isn't even asking Him.  Maybe just looking to Him is all I need to do.  If my eyes are on Christ, and not on myself, I just might be able to get out of my own way and actually be what He's made me to be.