A Heart Ready for Christmas

Ways to celebrate Christ as the central focus of your heart this Christmas season.

1) Give God one very special gift just from you to him:

Let this gift be something personal that no one else needs to know about, and let it be a sacrifice. David said in 2 Samuel 24 that he would not offer a sacrifice to God that cost him nothing. Maybe your gift to God will be to forgive someone you've needed to forgive for a long time. You may discover that you've given a gift back to yourself.

Corrie Ten Boom, a Christian who survived extreme brutality in a German concentration camp after rescuing many Jews from certain death during the Nazi Holocaust, was later able to say, "Forgiveness is to set a prisoner free, and to realize the prisoner was you." Perhaps your gift will be to commit to spending time with God daily. Or maybe there is something God has asked you to give up. Make this your most important gift of the season.~Mary Fairchild - about.com

2) Take the time to read the Christmas story in Luke 1:5-56 through 2:1-20.

3) Christ IS Christmas!

This world simply cannot spell CHRISTmas without Christ, though it keeps trying.~Dr. David Jeremiah

Without Him, there would be no Christmas! Prepare your heart to celebrate the joy found in that reason alone! Other than what He has given me, I have nothing worthy to offer Him. I offer my heart and He takes it - sin-stained and broken and makes it white as snow. (Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Psalm 51:10) What a reason to celebrate!

4) Be just like the wise men...

Seek Him. Find that special place in your home, open His Word. Pray. Give thanks. Be joyful. Take the time to listen. Be aware that in the midst of all our busyness - He's that quiet peace that we need every day. We would never put the relationships that we treasure (such as spouses, children, grandchildren, best friends) on the back burner for a month or two. Seek out the One who loves us more than any other and spend time with Him.

5) It's okay to say no.

So many times we are over-scheduled, over-worked, shopped-out, wrapped-up that at the end of the day we have nothing left to give. It's okay to say no. Even to something that's good. Sometimes, saying no means we get to keep our homes peaceful and our hearts full of love.

6) See your traditions in a whole new way.

The Christmas tree: an evergreen tree symbolizes God's everlasting love. The lights represent stars of the heavens, and a big star on top represent the one the wise men followed to see Baby Jesus.

The Gifts: giving a gift is an act of love like God's love for us in sending Jesus. Each gift, as beautiful as we can make it, reminds us of the perfect gift, Jesus Christ as our Saviour.

The Candles: as we light candles during the Christmas season, they remind us how we are to be a light unto the world.

The Wreath: the circle, which has no beginning or end, reminds us of God's unending love for us as He offers us salvation.

The Candy cane: made by a Christian confectioner as a reminder of the Shepherd’s staff. Red and white - red for the blood shed by Jesus Christ, white for His purity.

The Holly: the holly's thorn like leaves remind us of Jesus' crown of thorns, and the berries symbolize the drops of blood He shed for us.

7) The whole Santa thing...

The original Santa Claus, St. Nicholas, was born in 4th century Turkey. He was a devoted Christian. He was known for his generosity and for his love of children. Saint Nicholas was known for taking to heart Jesus' words about almsgiving. "But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right is doing, so that your almsgiving may be secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you." (Matthew 6: 3-4)

Saint Nicholas was very generous to the poor, but most often anonymously. The most famous story concerns three young women whose destitute father was going to force them into prostitution in order to survive. To prevent this heinous crime, Nicholas, on three different nights, anonymously went to their father's house and threw a bag of gold though an open window. Saint Nicholas's generosity was transferred to the "jolly old man" who delivers gifts anonymously on Christmas Eve.

This year, I'm asking God for the spirit of generosity that Santa Claus possessed. To do good things for others - not for my own recognition - but for His.

I'm praying that your heart and home are both ready for Christmas this year! And from my heart to yours... Merry Christmas! Love to you! sm <3

30 Days of Heartfelt Thankfulness

 So I missed the first couple of days because of a s-l-o-w computer, but better late than never! I am so thankful and grateful for all that God has blessed me with and I acknowledge that everything I have comes from Him!

 Day 1: I am thankful for my family in general. Because of them I have joy and happiness and love!

 Day 2: I love my husband! I am thankful that he is a godly man who strives to do and be what God has called him to be. He does whatever is necessary for us and always provides for us!

 Day 3: I am thankful for Mallory! She's still my little baby girl even though she just turned 18. What a joy she is to me and I am excited to see the special plans that God has in store for her!

 Day 4: Today I am thankful that my singing and speaking gig went okay. I did manage to squeak out some coherent words and my food stayed down... NOTE TO SELF: stay away from the luncheon food if expected to sing after said luncheon.

 Day 4: It's my blog. I can have as many day four's as I wish... Today, I am also thankful for Clay! Slowly but surely I think he might be maturing if only a little bit. He is so very creative and loves to give me drawings that he did at school. I am praying that God will continue to grow him up and help him to use all of that creative genius that God gave him!

 Day 5: I'm thankful for Nolan! God sent him into our family to be the comic relief that we sometimes need! He's loving and kind and growing so much each day. I know that God has great plans in store for him and I am excited to be a part of it!

 Day 5: I am thankful for my sister Shannon. I'm not sure I felt that way when mom and dad wagged her home from the hospital when I was 6 1/2... but I am now! She's very smart and funny and even though she's been dealt some not-so-great cards, I know that God is using her and her life to affect and help so many people. She loves her family and is supportive of all of us - even on our really bad days - which are nothing compared to some of hers. She's family - I have to say she's my sister. But I am blessed to call her my friend.

 Day 6: It's actually Day 12. I am way behind but I have lots to be thankful for!..... My dad had surgery earlier this week and things look really good.

 Day 7: My sister Shannon was hospitalized with an MS flare up but she is getting better - slowly but surely.

 Day 8: My husband asked for a raise and got it.

 Day 9: My nephew Caleb asked Jesus to be his Lord and Savior at our revival this week.

Day 10: My sister Stacey is on the last leg of nursing school! She graduates next May and I am so proud of her!

Day 11: I am so thankful to be feeling better.

Day 12: I am a little all-over-the-map with my thankfulness. It's not nice and organized - it's kind of random. But then again, so am I. :-) Today I am thankful for the gift of laughter. My kids make me laugh - and we laugh easily most of the time.

Day 13: I'm going to be really busy tomorrow so I am being thankful early... I am thankful for cooler weather! We have had two days of cold rain - the leaves are falling down-down-down off the trees. Winter will be here soon!

Day 14: I am truly thankful that God has set me free. I have struggled with fear most of my life. The first six to eight months of this year were no exception. But through LOTS of prayer, being in God's Word and finally realizing that I am already free - I choose to have the faith to walk in His freedom. When I feel that fear is trying to choke the life out of me again - I place it under the authority of Christ in my life and trade it for His peace.

The Door of Hope

OUTSIDE TODAY...

The sun is shining. There is a light breeze. The makings of fall are right around the corner!

I AM THANKFUL FOR...

Family breakfast at the table. Working together to clean the mess. 

ON MY MIND...

My doctor's appointment on Monday.

 My mom's recent surgery.

Mallory's senior portraits.

Finances for Christmas.

PONDERING THESE WORDS...

By David Jeremiah

Hope is found in the valley of trouble (In the book of Joshua, the Valley of Acor = the valley of trouble). God allows trouble in our lives so we will seek Him for our help. What do you do when you have the sense that your hope has begun to fade? Decide to take action. The enemy of your soul wants to give you the impression that where you are right now - in your current state of mind - is where you will remain. That there's nothing you can do about it. That is a lie. You don't have to be where you are if you don't want to be. Determine to get to the core of the problem. Don't rationalize what you find. Don't make it worse than it is but own up to it. Deal with the problem honestly before God. Lay it out before the Lord. Destroy the barrier that is keeping you from the hope and blessing of God. Evil behavior takes away our hope as believers. Sin separates us from God. Hosea 2:15 says "There I will give her back her vineyards, and I will make the Valley of Trouble a door of hope" Every time a Christian goes through a valley of trouble there is always a door of hope. Satan will tell you that this is a valley with no exit. When you are in the valley of trouble you have no confidence in your ability to serve God. 

God will meet you at the door of hope.  

FROM THE KITCHEN...

Chili tonight!

I think I will make something sweet today but what?

Cinnamon rolls? Maybe...

Love to you! <3

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1.03.01

The Fixer

Some childhood memories are fun and filled with laughter. Some are dark and filled with pain. Sometimes they are filled with both laughter and pain... It was a binding moment in my life. One I have carried in my heart of hearts since I was 11 years old. Thirty years later I still find myself lugging it around. I'm tired of worrying over it. Today, I am going to try to lay it down for good.

I had never known what a mid-life crisis was. That's the sort of thing you just can't explain to a child. But I saw the effects of it - it shattered my sheltered world and my perception of security. My mom, my sisters, and I had been out of town at Grandma's - my most favorite place in the world! I should have noticed it when I walked in our house... the air was different somehow. Not deep and robust anymore but shallow and vapid. I can't remember how I ended up in my mom and dad's room but there I was. Staring into their closet. Wire hangers that had previously held my dad's work clothes now hung there empty and cold. No shoes in the closet floor. Half-open dresser drawers once stuffed with socks, t-shirts and such now cavernous and starving. Suddenly, my mom was behind me, grabbing a letter from the top of the dresser with her name on it. She sat down on the edge of the bed as if the weight of the world had suddenly been flopped on her back. She read it silently. My older sister came in the room followed by my little sister.
"Dad's gone."
Gone? From what?
"When's he coming back?" I asked.
"I don't know." the hollow reply.

Most of my memories from that time are fragile and broken. A short time after that homecoming, I can remember standing behind our burnt orange la-Z-boy recliner, hanging forward over the back of it with my arms gently pounding the soft quilted upholstery, when a Commodores song came on... "Three Times A Lady". I don't know if it was on the TV or radio. But it made my mom cry. A heart-piercing, sorrowful cry. And I couldn't take it. I had to make it better. I tried to make her smile or laugh or something... just not be in pain anymore. Because in my eleven year old world, if a dad can leave - then a mom can too. If mom was really sad would she leave too? I didn't want to be left alone in a world without her or my dad.... And somehow that day, I appointed myself the "fixer" of the family. Crazy antics, jokes, smiles and funny gesturing. Anything it took to make my family happy. There were times that it just didn't work. But, oh, the times that it did were a confirmation that I was on the right track keeping everyone's frail feelings on the brink of laughter.

Now, I - The Fixer - am now confronted with things that I can't fix. Wounds I can't heal. Sorrows I can't mend. Diagnosis' that I can't change. Fears I can't subdue. So now what? Like my Grandma used to say, "I'm wound up tighter than an eight day clock." Under the weight of all the things I can't fix, I am becoming unwound, emotionally and physically. And God has revealed that open sore in my heart carried around by that 11 year old little girl. I am not the fixer... He is. I can't heal wounds - but He can. I can't mend sorrows -  but He can. He knew that diagnosis before the foundation of the world... He's not surprised by it and gives peace through it if I will take it. I am fearful of things I cannot change but He never changes. I can't be the fixer - as much as I want to be. God says He will carry it ... but I have to let Him. He says to cast all my cares on Him but I have to do the casting. He gives me the option to pick it back up anytime I choose. But it causes my knees to buckle and my heart to hurt. I am not the fixer.

I have long since forgiven my dad. I love him and wouldn't be who I am without his role in my life. We all make mistakes and where would I be if I had never been forgiven of all my downfalls and bad decisions? He's back at home with mom. They are probably sitting in the living room watching a western... I don't have to worry about being left alone anymore. That fear that has seemed a bottomless pit in my life for a  long time. But God has opened my eyes and really let me see the exquisite gift He has given me- my family. A husband that loves me and three magnificent children. I'm not going to be alone.

A lot of life has happened in the last thirty years... and there's a lot more to live. I'm going to let that 11 year old little girl go home to play. She doesn't have to fix it anymore. God's got that all under control.

A Life Remembered

Memorial day has never been one of those holidays I officially participated in. Oh, I definitely would take the paid day off - but never took the time to understand the holiday or join in the meaning of it. I guess I have reached that certain age and come to the realization of the impact of the importance of history to my family. It's time to honor the people in my life that hold such a dear place in my heart that have passed on.

Scott and I drove to the first of two cemeteries on Monday afternoon. As a couple of newbies to the practice, it took a while to find his grandparents. But we did. Scott lovingly bent down and brushed the dirt away from their headstone. Grandma just passed away in December so the hurt is still fresh. Scott placed his flowers. "I'm not sure what we're supposed to do," he said tearfully. "We're doing it," I replied. Standing there, remembering them with fondness. We looked over and Scott realized that his Uncle Bill was buried right next to his grandparents. Uncle Bill died when Scott was about 12. But it affected us recalling the history of lives located on two headstones. I think part of the reason we hadn't gone to the cemeteries before is because of the emotion it dredges up. Remembering the loss. But this time we chose to honor their lives...

We went to the next cemetery where my family was located. My first stop was my cousin Daryl who died from the result of a car crash. He was young - in his twenties and a full life ahead of him. He passed away in 1986 and yet standing there in front of his headstone, I recalled it like it was yesterday. Knowing that my mother, who was especially close to him, had been there honoring him touched me. And the largest, most beautiful offering of remembrance came from his parents. And I wept silently for them. For all of us. But I could see him walking beside Grandma in heaven. His gorgeous red hair as his crown. We moved on to my grandmother. I knew this was going to be hard for me... When I got the call in 2002 that grandma was taking a turn for the worst, I dropped everything I was doing and headed for home. An hour and a half drive might as well have been twelve. It took forever. I hurried into the facility only to find mom meeting me in the hallway. I was too late. "No! I had things I had to tell her!" I cried... After a phone call to my mom we finally found the right place. I had found a shimmery garden butterfly on stick that I chose instead of flowers. I wrote a note and attached it. I wanted to stand there and just say it out loud. All the things that grandma had meant to me. And I wondered, how do you thank someone for the way they lived their life? She was always there for me. My memories of staying with her as a child - we played games, she had an organ that she never fussed at anyone playing, vacation Bible schools, scooping out cottage cheese in little bowls and topping it with half a canned apricot (that always seemed so fancy to me), finishing each day with a bowl of ice cream or a chocolate shake, waking each morning to grandma sitting at the kitchen table in her house robe - hot cup of black coffee in front of her, greeting me with a smile and a hug, her making toast in an old-time toaster oven (no door) or my favorite, warming up frozen honeybuns on it! Grandma was a fabulous cook. Grandpa - who is now 91, used to complain that because she never wrote down the ingredients, she never made the same thing twice. As a young woman with wedding bells in my future, I would pour over her many recipe books with her. We would talk about how good they would be and if we would change anything. And she was my prayer warrior. I would go to her to talk about problems and I knew she would pray. She loved my daughter and Mallory loved her. Then suddenly the lady who had always been Grandma was now Mamaw. And it stuck... So now, standing at her gravesite, remembering her life and how much she influenced me I wanted to say thank you.

Thank you, Mamaw, for the way I remember you. Thank you for my own mother and how much of you is reflected in her. Thank you for the strong sense of tradition and values that you instilled in each of your kids (and grandkids and great grandkids). I know that your faith is sight. You are walking the streets of gold and standing by the crystal sea. I can see you walking with Uncle Pete and your brothers and sisters. Laughing with Daryl and Gregory and holding my heaven babies. I love you and I'll see you when I get there. Love, Steffi

We moved on and found my Uncle Pete. He passed on while I was seven months pregnant with Mallory. I searched for my great grandma and my little cousin Gregory who passed away when I was a child. While I was searching I came upon the fresh plot of my friend Gina... it was there that I understood fully the importance of remembering. She has a three year old son that needs to remember his mother. I have children that need to know why we are the people we are and who set the tone for it. If I don't remember those that had such a great part of my life, who will? Who will pass down their values and family traditions if I don't? Who will honor their memory? I will. I will not take lightly this holiday again. I will never forget the impact they had on my life and I choose to remember and to help pass on the precious memories of each of them.

A Momma's Love

It's that time of year. Graduations. End of the school session for another year. College plans. Summer camps. Yikes. This is it. I've got one more year with my oldest before she graduates from high school and heads off to college (she has no choice in that - whether she likes it or not). We went to our bestus friends' oldest daughter's graduation today and it just brought out so many memories of Mallory. Not only of her but also how I felt at the time. Not so much baby memories but recent, hard-to-grow-through memories. I don't think I have mentioned it as of yet. It still feels awkward for someone who likes to promote faith in God. At one point I was verbally shamed for my apparent "lack of faith", but thankfully a woman of wisdom set that straight...

It was almost two years ago now. At the dinner table, in the middle of Falls Creek church camp in southern Oklahoma, speaking with another sponsor. "I just don't think I could do what you are doing." Melinda looked at me with a smile. I kept talking. "I mean God and I would just have to have a long old talk about Mallory going on the mission field." You see, Melinda was putting her oldest child on a plane at the end of that particular week, with a group of supervised teenagers, and letting him fly. Across the ocean. Without her. London is not one of those first places you think of when you think "mission field". Usually most people think - Africa. China. Russia. But London, England? God needs His name taken everywhere, right? Even "civilized" places. It was hard enough for me to let Mallory go to the next county without me, much less even THINK about another country. Well, I was going to talk to God about that. Long and hard for the next year.

Two mornings after that conversation with Melinda (pictured above), Mallory came to me - tears welled up in her eyes. "Honey, what's wrong?" She looked at me with those big blue eyes, her bottom lip quivering a little. "Mom, I think God is calling me to go to London next summer." I was dumbfounded. Okay, Lord. Did she just say what I think I heard? That can't be. She's not old enough. "Are you sure? I mean, there are lots of places near home." I wiped tears from her face. "Yes. I've been praying about this since the first night we got here. I know I'm supposed to go." With a broken heart I told her, "Well, then we'll do what it takes. God will provide everything you need if this is His will." We hugged and cried together. And prayed. Oh, how we prayed.

God was true to His calling and to His promise to provide. He provided every last dime that she needed to go on that trip. And how that year flew. We got her passport. She got new luggage. New clothes. Adapters for hair appliances. New iPod. Then started the packing. We also had a week of church camp before she left for 10 days to London. Church camp went by so quickly - but God was speaking - loud and clear to me anyway. All week long, the same question. "Do you trust Me?" My reply everytime was, "Yes, Lord, I trust You." Easy to say - hard to do.

The day I had been dreading arrived. The registration process was basically at the same camp that we had been at all week but we were required to leave for a few hours so the camp officials could be better prepared. The student missionaries would go through three days of extensive training before going overseas. As we arrived back at camp, we were greeted by the same camp staffers only this time they were all sporting British accents and driving their golf carts on the wrong side of the road. We checked in and headed to a room full of other parents fixing to ship their kids off to a foreign country. Was I the only one who felt scared to death? What in the world was I thinking? All the other parents seemed so -- composed. I felt just minutes from a complete boo-hoo breakdown. My skin was the only thing keeping me intact. The people in charge were speaking - blah blah blah - rules and this - regulations and that - blah blah blah. I was only aware of how tiny Mallory seemed next to me and her Daddy. Her sweet disposition and kindness. Her warm hand in mine. Lord, help me get through this. Then - this exquisite moment that I can't even think of without a lump in my throat. "Parents, please gather a few students together. Form a circle around them and pray over your students." What?? My composure is that of a cat - thinking about throwing her baby kitten on a hot tin roof. I am barely holding it together. Oh yes, the dads -the strong ones- prayed. Thank God. My prayer would have been vocally offered but for the boulder in my throat. But wait... "Now, students, form a circle around your parents and pray for them while you are gone." Yes. I lost it. Quietly the barrier holding back the great flood of tears broke. Brief silence. Then a delicate squeeze of my hand... My heart busted with pride as Mallory was the first student to lift her parents and little brothers to God. All choked up, she managed to pray over us with an earnest love and gentleness that touched us deeply.

Then it was over. Kiss. Hug. The students were whisked away. One more prayer. And that was that. No more contact for 10 days. Students were not allowed to take cell phones. If there was an emergency you could call the people in charge. There would be daily updates posted on a blog once they reached their destinations. I don't know that I even felt my legs as I walked from the building. I was already mentally spent from a week at camp (little sleep, long hot hours, bunk beds, girls with issues that were heartbreaking, etc). And now, there was no lingering to tell her how much I loved her or give her one more hug. Driving away, we made it as far as the camp entrance and I had Scott pull over. I told her I would get a picture of the waterfalls by camp and I did... but I couldn't make myself leave. Scott kept saying it was time to go. We had to get home to the boys. I kept dragging my feet. Reluctantly, I climbed in the car and proceeded to leave the campgrounds in a heap of tears. Two weeks before her departure, we watched the news as a French airliner went missing off the coast of Brazil. All my fears exploded in the minivan. I wailed. I wept. I was a sloppy mess. I remember crying to Scott. "Go back and get her. I've changed my mind!" I was not kidding. There was no humor in that statement. I fully expected him to turn that van around and go get our daughter. "Honey, you've got to pull yourself together. Remember what you've heard all week? Do you trust God?" With tear-stained cheeks I turned to him and bawled, "Not anymore! You go back and get her right now!" With tender compassion and tears in his eyes, Scott grabbed my hand and replied. "Babe, we believe that our lives are Father-filtered. Nothing comes to us that hasn't gone through Him first." I screamed at him. "I know that! He just watched a plane full of 228 people crash into the Atlantic ocean! And He was okay with that!" The first two hours of our four hour trip home was spent sobbing. Can I be the only mom that felt this way?

What got me through the next couple of days was knowing that she was just four hours away. Mallory was on her "mission trip". I could still go get her. Everything was fine. Stay busy, Stephanie. She's fine. And then the fateful flight day. The students were taking a chartered bus to the Dallas/Fort Worth Airport. DFW?? My baby at DFW? The time came when I knew she was on the plane. Oh, I stayed busy alright. I spent the day doing yard work at my parent's home. I couldn't go in the house and let someone talk to me because I would fall apart. So I wept as I pulled weeds in the vegetable garden. I cried as I trimmed the hedges. I put on my praise music and whimpered quietly with the sound of the mower. I was a total basket case. Where was my faith? I headed home exhausted and proceeded to check the status of the flight all evening. Still in the air - what was taking so long? I just took my heart out of my body, let it get on a plane to fly across the ocean. Why hasn't it landed? The time came and went for the estimated arrival of the flight at Heathrow. Fifteen minutes. Nothing. Thirty minutes. Nothing. I am losing my mind. Finally, forty-five minutes late, at 3:30AM my time, I knew my precious baby girl was safe on the ground. Emotionally bankrupt - I surrendered to sleep.

I woke up the next day with new determination. Okay. She was there. It's all good. She's smart. She's got a good head on her shoulders. The adults in her group knew that or she never would have been chosen to go. Being a little more fit to be around human company - I went to our church's softball game that night. I was telling a mother on the team what had transpired until three-thirty the previous morning. Before she could reply, a man popped up and told me that I should be ashamed of myself. Shame on me for not trusting God. If he would have known that I was doing that he would have called me and told me shame on me. Wow. Where did that come from? Did I really need to be ashamed? I had spent the last couple of days on my knees, pouring my heart out to God - He knew what I had been through. He knew the level of strength and growth that would come from this time but shame?... My friend, new to our church at the time, looked at me with compassion as she whispered, "I would have done the same thing."

Days seemed to drag. How much I wanted to hear her voice and tell her that I loved her. How proud I was of her. That stinking cell phone rule! Then came the morning shortly after the "shame" incident, I sleepily grabbed the phone as it rang. Normally, if I don't know the number, I don't answer it. But I responded to that unknown number with the press of a button. "Hello?" There was a slight pause. "Momma?" I drew in a quick breath. "Hi baby!" Daddy sat straight up in bed. The two of us, heads pressed together against each side of the phone, hanging on her words. She said she was fine. She missed us. She was running out of coins for the phone but she wanted us to know she was doing okay."I love you Mom!" Like water to a thirsting man - God knew exactly what I needed. Deliverance from the prison of speculation. Peace. 

And yet I was still so torn. Shame? By the time Sunday rolled around I didn't know where I stood. Confused, I went to drop off Nolan in the nursery. Ann, my woman of wisdom - asked me (really asked me) how I was doing with Mallory being gone on her trip. I told her of the evening at the ball field and she sat there, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. "Oh, phooey. That's not a lack of faith, girl. That's love. That's a momma's love." Yes. That was it. That immense love that God gave mothers had reared it's ugly head. That fierce love came screaming out that long drive home from camp. Her sweet words, spoken with the true passion of a seasoned mother, soothed my ravaged soul like a salve. They still do. Mallory's flight home for me was not nearly as traumatic as the flight over. I couldn't check the status of the flight because I was traveling to go pick her up. I knew I had faith. God knew. He knew I had it in me all along. I didn't expect that I would be questioning it but He did.

 

  Anticipation swallowed me as I was watching each child get off the campus-police escorted bus. Waiting and waiting and then there she was! Glowing and vibrant. Beautiful and beloved. Tired and skinnier than when she had left. But home. In my arms. In Daddy's arms. Great sighs of relief.

 God used her. God grew me. I know that whatever comes her way, God has her in the palm of His hand. I just wish He'd fill me in on the details... but if I knew the details, there would be no reason to trust Him. So I look forward to this next year (that's going to fly by). I know I can say, "Yes, Lord, I trust You." and mean it. With faith, without shame and with a momma's love. "My grace is enough; it's all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness." 2 Cor. 12:9 (MSG)

A couple of funny things you might have heard around our house in the last few days:

Nolan: Gasp! "Oh mom! It's a peetee!" (translation-teepee, after seeing the green and white sun canopy that Scott and I put up in the back yard... which quickly had to be taken down 2 days later because of storms. Love that Oklahoma weather!)

Scott: "There's nothing funnier than two fat people trying to do karate in the kitchen."

Nolan: "Mom, what do we fill peecans up with? I got one at school but I don't know what to put in it." (translation: teacher sent home 35mm film canisters to put quarters in for Kids For A Cure.)

Living in a Bubble

If nothing ever changed, there'd be no butterflies.  ~Author Unknown

Those who expect moments of change to be comfortable and free of conflict have not learned their history.  ~Joan Wallach Scott'

 

If you want to make enemies, try to change something.  ~Woodrow Wilson

Just when I think I have learned the way to live, life changes. ~Hugh Prather

  

We change, whether we like it or not. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

It's hard to admit - I like living in a bubble. Lots of people in my life know my truth - I don't like surprises. Don't throw me a surprise party - hate 'em. I want things to be the same. I like control - well, truth is - I like to have things under my control. When someone messes with my schedule, my routine, my life - it bursts my bubble. Then I'm not happy. You know the saying, "If Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." That's pretty much the way it is around here. I told you it was hard to admit. And it ain't pretty. Oh, how I wish I could be one of those people that "roll with the punches" (whatever that means), or "fly by the seat of my pants" (where did that even come from?). I'm not as bad as "we've never done it that way before!" but I like things simple - my way. :-)

I've got to learn this life lesson. I know I do. I just don't want to. But it's a daily occurrence whether I like it or not. Look at the local store I shop at... just the time I figure out where everything is, they go and change it up again! Or how about a newborn baby? Just about the time what you are doing (bouncing, patting, rocking, swaying) is working - they decide they don't like it anymore. I can remember one particular long night when Mallory was a newborn - she could not go to sleep. I remembered a "trick" I had seen on TV. A mother warmed up a thick towel in the dryer - folded it and placed it on top of the dryer. While the dryer was running, she layed her fussy baby on top of the warm towel. It comforted the baby and it went right to sleep. Well, why not give it a try? I did and it worked! It was like I had hit the jackpot! But you know what? It only worked that one time!! Never once worked again.

So I'm beginning to see that a constant in my life will always be change. Dadgumit. Prime example - my kids. My joy Mallory, who at one time I held in the crook of my arm - is readying herself to be 18, a senior in high school and scoping out scholarships and colleges. My sweet Clay  - turning ten years old tomorrow. Wow - that decade went fast! My funny Nolan - finishing up kindergarten. My little chunky-monkey is writing, playing ball, riding his bike. My marriage - thank God I am not the same wife that I was when we first got married. I like myself a lot better at 41 than I did at 20... 

So I have three constants in my life. That I know for fact. Change, choice, and Christ. Change will always come. Where I put my focus is my choice. But Christ is always the same. I need to know that in these uncertain times. In the chaos of life. I choose Christ. 

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. ~Hebrews 13:8

The Sweet in the Bittersweet

 A little thunder. A little rain. Ahhhh the sweetness of springtime. Bittersweet too. Got the phone call last night that a friend from high school lost her battle with cancer hours before... So strange - in my mind, I'm still 25. Now, being 41 is NOT old... but it's a reminder that life is precious. My mother - in her wisdom - said, "You either grow older or you don't... that's just life. It's not fair - but it's life." So for today - I am growing older. Hopefully, a little wiser. A little more caring. A little more compassionate. A little more passionate. A little more loving. I choose to be less worried about laundry, dishes, clean bedrooms, made beds - I want to hold my kids, hug and kiss 'em, meet my husband at the door at the end of his work day with a kiss and a smile. And cherish - oh, to cherish, even the mundane - isn't that where life happens? Life doesn't happen in the extravagant, well-thought out contrivances... it's in the simple breathing in and out, cold cereal for breakfast, teeball games, karate lessons, band concerts, family squabbles, helping with homework, working in the garage, mowing the yard stretches of life... It's in the beauty of the sunrise, the laughter of my children, my love for a happy marriage... thank You, God, for the sweet in the bittersweet, for the sunshine in the rain, for the extra in my ordinary days.

We Were Just Kids

 We were just kids... the older I get, the more I seem to realize the truth of that statement! Twenty one years ago today I said "I do". "I do" to what? Oh, there have been lots of things "I do'd"! First and foremost, I did to love ... awww - I know, take a moment. I can remember a vivid moment when my mother told me, "you never really know a man till you live with him." That woman continues to be wise beyond her years. But, I digress....

Some of the things I said "I do" to:

   Love             A best friend      Laughter         Confidant

       Strength             Dreams              Mallory               Clay   

            Nolan          Growing up           Growing older                 Wisdom                  

                 Comfort                   Forever                 Truth                Joys     

        Sorrows                 Wishes          Hopes              Completion

I wouldn't trade any of these things for the entire world. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't have done anything differently. We wouldn't be who we are today without this road we have traveled together. We would have missed that champagne cork rolling off the balcony of our hotel room. The year in Oklahoma City. Milk crates for end tables. A battery cable on fire. Spaghetti from a box. A small dog that ate furniture. The birth of a beautiful daughter. The three months in Wichita. A huge garage sale ridding ourselves of all things baby... The birth of a baby boy. Our first home. An ice storm. Making it through a nine day power outage. Our growing up years in Blackwell. The crazy lady in the alley. The birth of another boy. Moving "back home". God growing us and using us in ways we would never have imagined twenty one years ago. Have there been hard times? Yep. Will there be more? Most likely. But knowing that the good times far outweigh the bad times is complete joy to me. And knowing the wonderful man God gave me will be right there by my side makes all the difference. Scott, I love you - and I'm looking forward to the next fifty anniversaries! 

Trading Despair for Peace

"Don't worry about anything, but pray about everything. With thankful hearts offer up your prayers and requests to God. Then, because you belong to Christ Jesus, God will bless you with peace that no one can completely understand. And this peace will control the way you think and feel." Phil. 4:6-7

For the time being, this is going to be my life verse. It's been a hard week. I have really struggled with panic attacks - which in itself brings on bouts of guilt... how much faith do I have? I keep praying and giving my anxiety to the Lord but then I turn around and pick it right back up. Grrrrr. It's so frustrating. So many things on my mind right now. But I am standing on promises from God's word. "No weapon forged against me will prevail." My steps are directed by God Himself. He is my shield and rampart(a broad elevation or mound of earth raised as a fortification around a place and usually capped with a stone or earth parapet). I trust that He's working everything out. In the words of Beth Moore, I cannot deny fear - but I can deny the authority of it over my life... "I praise You God because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I thank You that you knit me together in my mother's womb. There is no unseen thing in me. Help me to lean NOT to my own understanding but to look to You who sets my feet in high places. Your ways and thoughts are higher than mine. I trust You and cast all my fears, anxiety, and worries on You because You care for me. Your yolk is easy and Your burden is light. God, give me beauty for ashes and strength for fear, gladness for mourning and peace for despair. In the mighty name of Jesus, I rebuke any power or stronghold that satan would use against me. I turn my heart toward Your precepts and ask that You would fill me with Your peace that passes all understanding. I pray that You would place a hedge of protection around my mind and use it only for Your glory. In Jesus' precious name, AMEN."

The Prison of Panic

 

 If you have never had one, be thankful. If you have, God bless you. What people call panic attacks is more like a personalized fear chamber that seems inescapable. Panic episodes for each person is so individualized - what makes me panic might not even phase someone else. But it all starts with the same thing... one little thought. Cast directly from the fingertips of Satan - and then you are trapped in torture for an amount of time that seems like forever. I am on a daily journey of asking God to renew my mind. I am a daughter of the King of Kings! He hasn't given me a spirit of fear but a spirit of power and a sound mind! My panic moments always revolve around my health. When I had my kidney stone about four weeks ago - my mind has been a consistent prison. Worrying about going to the doctor over one little thing - she'll think I'm crazy. Maybe I don't want to know what that one little thing is... but being afraid NOT to go to the doctor - back and forth... back and forth... Oh, and it doesn't stop with what's wrong... it travels the full length of the "what if's" line. And then combining that with worrying about actually saying out loud what I fear most - if I speak it - give it a name .... Lord, help me. Pray with me for the renewing of my mind. Pray for a guard around my heart. And pray for my sweet family as they put up with me and my issues. I am trusting that God is delivering me. I believe in His sovereignty. And at the end of the day - I believe God is still good.

"We fight with weapons that are different from those the world uses. Our weapons have power from God that can destroy the enemy's strong places. We destroy people's arguments and every proud thing that raises itself against the knowledge of God. We capture every thought and make it give up and obey Christ."
2 Cor. 10:4-5

"God did not give us a spirit that makes us afraid but a spirit of power and love and self-control." 2 Tim. 1:7

"The Lord himself will go before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forget you. Don't be afraid and don't worry." Deut. 31:8

"Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will." Rom. 12:2

"My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand." John 10:27-28

The Fragility of Life

 

 Over this last month I have been reminded of how precious and fragile life can be. Not only with the tiny blooms and buds of springtime but also with the tender souls that God has granted in my life. My little sister was upgraded in her diagnosis of relapsing/remitting multiple sclerosis to secondary progressive MS. While this may not seem significant in the words written - to the heart and soul, it's the gut-wrenching realization of how much living there is to do in the amount of time left to do it in. It's fragility is found in the diagnosis of cancer of an old schoolmate with a toddler of her own. It's found in the passing of time at the nursing home ... wondering, why am I still here? What purpose am I serving? It's found in the hurried harried life of another sister struggling to get through nursing school while trying to wear the many hats that she's been given - wife, mom, student, taxi, chef, referee, cheerleader, this list goes on and on... God grant me the words to bring sweetness to the heartbroken. Lord reach down and cradle those hurting so deeply tonight. Holy Spirit, intervene... intervene with groans and a language unknown to human ears but so near to the heart of the Father. Help me to treasure each moment. Guard my heart in those moments that bring tears to the eyes. Guard my mouth, Lord, in those moments that want to lash out with harsh words. Help me to be a blessing to others. Let my actions and words honor You.

Clean Pickles

After a recent visit to the ER, I dropped off some prescriptions at the pharmacy. I was very hungry at the time so decided to have a sandwich and salad at our local pizza eatery. Gobbled up my salad and got my sandwich/fries/pickle to go. I was excited that the boys would have a surprise snack after school! After picking up Nolan, while he was diving into the fries, that sandwich kept looking at me. I finally couldn't resist and took a couple of bites... toasted, ham and turkey, melted cheese - really good. I asked Nolan if he wanted the pickle. He looked at the pickle and then looked at me. "No, I only eat clean pickles." Some of the toasted crumbs from the sandwich had fallen onto the pickle. I laughed. "It is clean, honey. It's just crumbs from the bread." He looked at it again almost as if he didn't believe me. "No, thank you." Well, at least he has good manners!

Lesson Learned Lord

It was a serious moment. The sanctuary was quiet and silent prayers filled the room. The music was playing softly as the preacher began to invite people to the altar. I had one boy on each side of me. I don't notice it at first...
"Tee hee. Tee hee hee."
I open one eye and glance at Nolan. Nope. He's messing with the offering envelopes.
"Tee hee. Tee hee hee."
With my head still bowed, I look over at Clay who had his head resting on my shoulder.
"Shhhh. What is it son?" I ask.
"Mom, you have hairs under your nose that look just like a mustache!" he whispers with laughter in his voice.
I frown at him.
"Alright - that's enough. You need to pray. Bow your head and close your eyes."
We return to our quiet prayers when I feel him softly tapping my shoulder.
"Mom, I want to go forward to pray."
I am never one to stay seated if one of my kids wants to get on their knees at the altar. So I take his hand and we head towards the front. Nolan follows. The three of us kneel down together.
"What do you want to pray about?" I whispered in his ear.
He replied, "I want you and dad to lose weight."
I stared at him. Now, this really was a sweet moment - unexpected? yes - but sweet. I had just made an audition tape for the Biggest Loser and was fixing to mail it. Scott and I had been making extra time to walk in the evenings. But still, I know I must have had a look on my face of disbelief. And he looked at me with those big blue eyes and a smile on his face. Any hurt feelings I might have had melted away because I knew he meant well. Where else would we go to ask for help? Of course we would pray. With a humbled heart, my two boys and I placed our burdens on the altar. Thank You for the reminder Lord that we can bring ALL our burdens - not just the ones we think You care about. Thank you for using my sweet boy to teach me. Lesson learned Lord.

It makes me... Mom

I sit here staring at the computer screen. I need to be doing so much. My heart is just broken and burdened this morning. I want so much for my children. All the things that any good parent wants really. But there are things that I want for them that I can't give them. Motivation, excellence, drive ... school has always been a struggle for my poor Clay. Not so much for the other two - oh, they have had their moments - but a constant grief is what it has been for my oldest son. I don't know how to fix it. That's who I am - that's my place in the family. I'm the fixer. And yet, I have a piece of my heart that is struggling and I can't fix it. Does he have a stubborn personality? Yes. Does he have focusing issues? Yes. Can he be annoying just like any nine year old boy? Yes. Is he unteachable? No. He needs people in his school life that are fully vested in him - which right now is questionable. I can't fix that either. So right now I see eight more seasons of hardship for him. It breaks my heart. So all I can do is pray. Encourage him. Pray... and then pray some more. There are no words I can even use to describe how much I love my children - my family - and the lengths I would go to for them. But I do recognize that there are places they have to go that I can't. I can't take the hurts from them - although I carry the hurts with them. I can't make the grades for them - although I struggle over each page with them. I can't make them be self-motivated - although I can lead by example. Why can't others see what I see? There is so much potential and yet I can't seem to correctly harness all that Clay is -point him in the right direction- and help him to excel, all at once. I can't fix it. It drives me crazy. It drives me to do better. It drives me to fight harder. It makes me question my abilities. It makes me dig down deep and see what I'm really made of. It makes me want to scoop up my kids and cradle them til the world goes away. It makes me.... Mom.

Crispy Qui Gon

Today was a day filled with laughter... I love days like that. Actually, it started the night before at the home of some friends. We played rockband and balderdash and spent the evening with a constant laugh or smile on our faces. We slept in, watched the boys play video games, watched a show that was on the DVR, and watched a movie. Clay's choice of movie was Star Wars Episode 1. **MOVIE SPOILER AHEAD** If you haven't seen it and plan to watch it soon, quit reading! ... at the very end of the movie Qui Gon Jinn dies. He's a good guy Jedi. Customary to Jedi ways, Qui Gon Jinn's body is burned in the presence of the Jedi council. So as we are all sitting there, watching Qui Gon turn into a crispy critter, Scott makes a sarcastic remark "I bet that smells good." Clay looks at him in disgust and says, "Dad! They're not going to eat him!" We laughed until we thought we couldn't laugh anymore! Even Clay started laughing but didn't know what he was laughing

  for.

 

After the laughter subsided, Scott thought it would be funny to come up with some kind of meal and call it Qui Gon Jinn. When I asked Clay what he thought Qui Gon Jinn should have in it, he commented: "Meat!"

That kid is not too slow on the uptake! So we enjoyed another round of laughter.

Hmmmm - it's moments like those I want to wrap up in my pocket, take out on a rainy day and just smile.....

It's Been Too Long...

December was a crazy time for our family. All the coming and going. Family gatherings. Church functions. Community celebrations.... whew. I'm glad December is over! There have been so many things to cross my mind -- "I've got to remember to blog that..." Even my family says stuff like, "there's something for your blog!" So in no particular order... here are some things you might have heard from a family member at one time or another in the last month:

"Mom - that lady comes to my class but one time I saw her - she downloaded her hair. It didn't look like that," said Nolan as he was pointing to a woman that comes to his classroom. "Really? She downloaded her hair?" was my reply. "No. Not off the internet or anything. I mean it wasn't up," he says while using his index fingers, placed closely to the back of his head, and pointing upwards.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Ha ha ha - Nolan, I'm gonna stick this in your kah-rotch!" Clay shouted, laughing at his brother with a new light saber in hand. They were supposed to be putting their jammies on. The word "crotch" is not totally acceptable in our home but it's better than some of the alternatives. That being said, my boys have turned that one syllable word into  a two-syllable one, which unfortunately, makes it even funnier. My response to that was to holler back: "No one is sticking anything in anyone's crotch!"... oh, my. If someone had been standing outside our front door - what would they be thinking right now??

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I am allergic to hard shellfish. I can eat shrimp but I will never know the joys of lobster or crab (although I don't know that I am totally missing out on that) dipped in butter. Mallory is apprehensive to even try crab because she wonders if she might be allergic too. Not the boys. They dive in face first. One of the last times we went out for dinner, Clay ordered shrimp and crab enchiladas. After eating till he was full, he poked a bunch of crab on his fork and waved it at Mallory. "Come on, Mal. Just try it. It's good." he says with a grin. "No, Clay, I don't want to."
"Come on, Mal! It's not going to hurt you. It's dead!"
Mallory laughs easy - which is so nice - cause all my kids have a beautiful laugh.... and Nolan doesn't want her to miss out either - so, thinking she might not fully understand dead.... "Yeah, Mal. They just went to the beach with their shotgun. Saw a crab. Shot it and cooked it. It's okay..." The restaurant was mostly empty on our side but there was enough laughter at our table to fill the place. We kept picturing someone jogging down the beach, with a gun, crab hunting. .....