Memories

I ran across an old Client's mother today. I was suddenly back in my old office - funny how memories work. Back came that previously-familiar awkward balance of confidentiality and still trying to be personable. It blew my mind to reminisce on my Rachael being 11 months old when I first came home to be a stay-at-home mom. Abi was still a hopeful idea as we knew little about her, but her strong kicks. That feeling of being on the brink of a world-flipping and yet still trying to keep your job and life in line. The hours of caring for others' children in therapy and group therapy sessions while wishing to just get the privilege of only taking care of my own. Oh the days of having a split heart - one desire to help others while that ache of someone else caring for my responsibility - my baby. And my client's sweet, smiling face. So funny the memories of encouraging my client's and client's family's pursuit of Christ, while trying not to lose my job in the secular world. It all came flooding back in that odd moment when the past met the present for a few minutes.
I was reminded that life is so short and so worth priority changes.


A dear member of our church suddenly passed away in a tragic plane crash yesterday. Matt had the hard job of accompaning Pastor out of the newly widow's house to share the news and help the widow call her children. In one instance an always-willing Bible teacher, father of three girls, husband of 51 years, and fellow runner after Jesus went to meet Christ face to face. Like Pastor said last night to his awaiting Bible Study class, "His faith became sight." It still feels surreal to me. I expect to see him on Sunday, him passing his Christ-honoring encouragement out to all he encounters. I still expect to see him in the church hallway, sharing about the utter joy he has for a new thing God taught him during his quiet time in the Word. We're all a bit shaken up. David Cowherd will be missed so much. And yet something in the back of my mind makes me smile, a sad hurt smile, but a deep smile nonetheless that after countless years of pouring himself over the Word, soaking in all that the Word projects about Jesus, and spending countless amount of time in conversation with others -seeking Jesus in all ways, our dear brother, David's face must have been a sight to see when he opened his eyes and saw... Jesus!...



Today just feels like a quiet day. A day of thanks for how far God has brought me, but also just a day to struggle to find words. A day to close my eyes and find silence. So many lessons He brings to mind. So many unanswered questions. And yet such hope that He has set before us.

Life can be so short. How will we be remembered? What difference will we make? What Kingdom work will we do?

That more would be left than our possessions.

That Christ would be lifted higher.



- A crown to lay at His feet. -

Outside

The spurts of beautiful weather stampedes my little clan outdoors. Oh how we long for the fresh air, wind in our hair, and freedom to RUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNN!!!

So here's a taste of our adventures outdoors.

Enjoying the ride.


Our lucky tag-along choosing to push the baby.


Daddy's helper walking Dakota.


Feeding the ducks.


Gotta love some fun with the cousins:

Bekka (3 yrs)


John (2 yrs)


And Josiah (10 mths)


Josiah doing what he does best - being cute.

Tunnel slides


the favorite... swings (esp. with Daddy pushing)


Oh the joys of the G-Force


can you tell they're her favorite?



And when it's all said and done and we're headed back:

this happens.
(She calls it, "Daddy snuggle me.")



And this one has been like this for the whole time. hehe.

O how we LOVE the glorious outdoors!

Gratitude

To those who take the extra time

And go the extra mile

to be with her - right where she is.

Thank you.

It means the world.

My Bitty Biter

Proof of my bitty biter. (Click to look close)


Playing just wears you out.


Accomplishment in pulling to your knees.


But sometimes you get stuck and need someone to bail you out.



Oh my sweet little Abi! How I love you!

A Bit O' Earth

So going along with the Secret Garden theme, I've come to the dreaded duty of weeding the front planter boxes. To give you a bit of perspective, all along the front of our house are three large planter boxes. Now "the front" of our house is really the entire length of our house, the door is in the middle of our home, and some brilliant landscaper decided to plant a total of 13 or 14 bushes, all of which lie in beautiful planter boxes - and require pruning naturally. My planter boxes are 3-4 feet in width at some sections and the small bushes are planted in the middle of the boxes - allowing weeding on both the front and back sides of the bushes. While these bushes are a bit cute, when I forget about the weeding, this non-gardening Mama dislikes - a lot - the never-ending prickly weeds that flock to bush-country. Maybe I'm just such a good gardener that everything wants to grow in my dirt? (Coughs).

So this morning the girls took a nap at the same time - mark this day down in history - and I could put them both down in the morning because I don't have Lexi today (whom I pick up from school in the morning) due to this weekend's illness pandemic in our household. [We have a Dr. appointment for Rachael this afternoon.] And in the art of self-sacrifice, I decided to be my own Mistress Mary and try to find delight in weeding the last HUGE flower bed. So, no joke, it took me about 45 minutes to clear away a three feet long section out of the twelve or thirteen foot long flowerbed. I nearly filled an entire huge trash bag of weeds.

And all I have to say after my experience is:


Bad Eve... no apple!



- Seriously, I enjoyed the prayer time and quiet amid the work. Maybe a gardener is growing in me yet? And maybe this too shall pass. hehe. =)

"Mommy read book?"

"Mommy read book?" she pleas as the climbs in bed to snuggle up for a nap. When Rachael was 11 months old, we made the family choice for me to become a stay-at-home mom. Abi, whom we had yet to know to be Abi, was on the way and my heart overflowed with the prospect of being there fully to raise our kids. I rearranged the kitchen, did some serious housecleaning to kick off the week and began a new tradition, reading before nap time.

I remember my mom reading the Lord of the Ring's series to us before bed, my sister and I fighting to stay awake longer to hear "just one more chapter." We were elementary aged and past the "little kid book" age. But I found such a joy in the stories coming to life in our minds - no need for pictures, we were each writing our own movie as the text filled our imaginations.

I began the Anne of Green Gables series when Rachael was 11 months old. I still remember the joy of feeling her little body drift into sleep amid turning the pages and rocking. And it's so precious to me to think that ever since Abi could hear from the womb she has drifted to sleep amid a story. I remember feeling Abi get heavier inside me as she neared her ripeness toward the end of Rachael's lap-rocking days. When Abi joined us on this side of the womb, Rachael would fall asleep in her bed and I would rock Abi while sifting through the Chronicles of Narnia series and a Karen Kingsbury novel (yes, Matt finally convinced me). There's something beautiful about knowing your kids are falling asleep to the soothing pattern and rhythm of your voice. And here we are today, with the Secret Garden.

Today we met Colin for the first time and a flood of a high school musical emerged in my mind. I love how a good book captures you as the scene is painted in your mind. But the scene coming to my mind was literally painted on sliding set pieces. I remembered try-outs with my sister, one of the first things I remember coming together to accomplish (due to high school falling at such a "sisters are uncool" age). My sister, an ever-so-old Junior, and then there was me, a little scared Freshman. My sister had the part of Lily in the bag, literally just waiting for the formalities of try-outs. But the part of Colin was up for grabs among all my friends. Whoever got the role of Colin would be immediately excommunicated from the group as the rest would probably be listed amongst the long list of "chorus" (hehe). My sis jumped into action, practicing and practicing with me. I remember thinking, "WOW! She knows me outside of the house too?!" (love ya, Jes.)

And then the call-backs list and the final posting sealed it all. I had my first lead in a musical, playing my sister's son. There was much make-up, ace bandages to make the illusion of a boy's chest appear, and a wig that took nearly 2 hours to put on my head (tucking my long hair beneath). But something magical came from singing "Come to my Garden" with my sister. I will never forget the excitement rush of hearing her beautiful voice cut through the fog (fog machined in) and pierce through the silence of the room. It was a moment. A moment indeed. And then that bridge... "I shall see you in my garden..." those tight harmonies. It was so neat. The show took on a life of it's own.

The lady on the recording has NOTHING on my sister. You should see Daddy's recording. =) But I do remember practicing to this version with my sister as we prepared for try-outs. It was just lovely. Lovely indeed.


Some pieces of the experiences God has given me are hard to convey. Rachael and Abi may never know the feeling of standing, or in my case laying on a bed (I was a crippled boy), and knowing that an audience of some hundred(s) of people are watching and yet feeling like no one else is there, but whomever is on stage. I hope Rachael and Abi get the chance to lose themselves in a musical number (not as in become loose morally here people). Just so much fun. So shaping and altering.

Funny how God has used some small-town moments to build up this stage-fright child within me. hehe.


Anyway... back to house chores.

- looking forward to tomorrow's nap-time reading.

So Much Bigger and Closer

Sometimes a walk down memory lane is filled with beautiful, white-picket fenced pictures. Other times lessons learned come to mind. And sometimes there's those 'remember when's that create a solemn and quiet moment in your heart.

I recently set up my old college computer to provide a space of childhood computer game playing. Funny to introduce the kindergartner I watch to packman - as if packman is something historic of the past. When booting up the old junker, curiosity led me to the old picture files. Funny to laugh through silly worship band pictures. But one file brought back a whole world of thoughts. It's title? New Orleans Mission Trip 2006.

We come to crossroads in our life. The road to heroism and the road to normalcy. And sometimes the two interchange and weave amongst each other. But every once in a while on down the road there comes a hill. And after the hill's climb you begin to see more values: greater value in rest, greater value in good hiking shoes, greater value in water, and even a greater value in life. And then all at once the horizon hits you from the top of that hill.

New Orleans brought back that feeling. The old war-zone looking pictures of displaced houses, demolished neighborhoods, and the eerie quiet that filled the air. No birds. No crickets. Nothing.

Work abounded on the trip. Filled with gutting flooded houses, stripping down walls and bleaching studs. All in the efforts to rebuild. All in the efforts to start again. In most cases we didn't meet the neighbors - those that were coming back for the wreckage. We just did our work. Did our part. Tried to leave behind a foundation that someone else could value again.

The images. The feelings. The poor world feeling so much bigger and yet so much closer than before. It all came flooding back as I flipped through the pictures, my mind adding a few not captured on film.

inside

clean-up begins

tearing down walls

removing glass from windowsill

pressure washing/bleaching molded studs

searching for valuables

the final product - a gutted house

Sometimes a walk down memory lane is filled with beautiful, white-picket fenced pictures. Other times lessons learned come to mind. And sometimes there's those 'remember when's that create a solemn and quiet moment in your heart.


- my heart goes out to Japan right now -

To The Anonymous - - You Matter

If there's one thing I've learned about being a stay-at-home mom of little kids, it's that you need a lot of support. It's a blessing to have a friend to talk to when you just need an adult voice. There are times the last thing you want to do is wipe another boogie nose, but knowing girl's night out is around the corner helps you press on. There are times you just want to take a drive in the car, without having to listen to 20 questions from the back seat. And while stay-at-home moms can seem like anonymous people , operating on a completely different day-shift than the rest of the world's 9-5, you know that you matter to the Savior.

But I've found a new level of anonymity. You moms have probably experienced it. It's the circumstance where you visit a friend, neighbor, extended relative, or acquaintance and the only one that matters in the room is .... the baby on your hip.

Have you ever felt that?

You're not even acknowledged. The baby receives the engagement, the patting, maybe is even taken from your hip and not one word is said to you. It's like you don't even exist.

Most days it doesn't bother me. I kind of enjoy staying out of the floodlights. But deep down inside a small part of me wonders why if I matter so much then why not even a word was said to me.

I've had this happen twice to me this past weekend. not a word was said to me in the hour+ that I spent with this person. All the interaction was with my children and my husband. It's as if a world around me existed and I was merely there for functionality.

I'm not posting about this as a passive-aggressive way of getting back at that person. This has nothing to do with that kind of a shallow act. I just wanted to post about this feeling for all those moms out there that are put in similar situations. All those moms out there (whom most will never have heard of or ever read these words) who just want a friend to look them in the eyes and say, "you matter. Even if you have some undetectable sticky thing in your hair."

"You matter to me even if you are thinking about how you wish you had time for a shower this morning. Even if you're wondering if you'll ever lose the baby weight. Even if your thoughts are on desiring a moment of quiet time once the kids go to bed. Even if the last thing on your list is to uphold some intellectual conversation because you just want someone to be with you without requiring something from you. You matter. Because you are you."

And it's in those moments that I hope and pray you hear your Savior whisper those truths to your heart.


Dear anonymous Mom out there,

You Matter to Me.

- Jesus.



He is all-sustaining.

Nightmare?

Rachael was crying on the baby monitor and I went in to her. I asked her what was wrong. After a few minutes she said, "I was sleeping. Alligator get my hand and I say ouch. I wake up and I cryin'."

Sounds like the kid explained her nightmare quite well.

Quite the imagination.

Too bad it bit her. =)

I wanna be a part of it...

So there's a part of me that is a traveler at heart. You see those gorgeous landscapes and something inside says, "Beam me up Scotti!" And there's something attractive about the city. No it's not the pollution, crazy traffic, violence or foul language that stirs that little place in my heart (surprising?). It's the glamorized tourist inside me that says, "Maybe some day..."

O the fun of traveling about in a confused tourist bubble, hoping you don't stand out too bad. I guess in my traveler's heart I never really care to look like a native. I just want to see the tall buildings, taste the cut little Mom and Pop shop bagels, and take a picture of the monument nearby. Just enjoy the simple things in the world of reading signs and learning new stuff.

And while the gorgeous sandy beach with the crystal clear water sounds so amazing and looks exquisite in those panoramic shots the fact is that Matt and I burn quite easily so the sunblock expense alone is enough for us to look around for a nearby city. Hehe. Maybe I'm a city girl at heart? Eh, I'm not so sure. Don't think that the over-stressed pressure of being in a non-sleeping place is all that desirable - especially for this Mom who hopes to sleep through the night on a regular basis when, say, the kids move out to college. But walking about in a city during the day, riding the subway, checking out all the cute little shops as you walk by their front windows...

There's a little shopping center around the Dayton area called 'The Greene.' It's a high-end outdoor mall that's designed to look like 3 or 4 city blocks. The perfectly swept roads, charity-only parking meters, cute little store fronts, wind whipping around the building corners, and a little 'fountain square' type meeting point make this little shopping area a cute little city in itself. Maybe I'm in love with those Frank Sinatra-ish movie era cities. A Roman Holiday. Breakfast at Tiffany's.

But whatever it is a little part of me thinks of vacationing in a city and then returning to "the quiet life" in our little suburb home.

White picket fence? Having my cake and eating it too?

You better believe it.


Alrighty, back to the real world. =)

To homeschool or to don't (er somethin')

Been thinking and researching a bit about homeschooling. Yes, I'm one of those nuts who thinks about staying with her kids 24/7 at the expense of her inner sanity and outer beauty (is it just me or do kids seem to have an affect on your outer beauty?).

A few homeschooling pros:

1. You know what they're learning (important as public curriculum has taken some interesting shifts)
2. You have some control over what they're learning (unless they're learning your bad habits).
3. Child has the opportunity to see the parent as a life teacher and not just a lame-o.
4. Cuts down on inappropriate (yet semi-functional for crowd control alone) bullying, teasing and competition. ("I'm bigger than you are, dork sister, cuz you're only a mere kindergartner!")

And a few cons:

1. You can't get away from your kids (Is that a problem? - rips out half a head of hair)
2. You are the teacher (please, no spitballs) so if you don't prepare - no one else is your backup.
3. Your weak subject is your kid's weak subject (Oh Matthew, the Math you would be teaching to our kids).
4. Social functioning needs to be higher than the "weird kids" out there. (Unless your kids are the weird ones. Then it needs to just be higher. -- being silly here.)
5. The constant fear of "is this enough so they'll be considered passing?"

Now don't you worry yourself. Just because I listed more cons than pros doesn't mean there are more cons than pros... I hope (wink).

Just word-vomiting about homeschooling thoughts.


[the giant hook comes out and rips her from the stage.]


Your thoughts?

Paradise

Returned from our two day rendez-vous in Louisville to the normal. Funny how much I've found enjoyment in the normalcy. The hotel stay was great; Matt at the Youth Advisory Board meeting on Tuesday from 8a-4p with a few breaks and the girls and I with no schedule, hanging out in the hotel room, going for a walk in the beautiful weather and enjoy the Seminary campus recreation center. Tuesday night, after the meeting ended, Matt and I enjoyed a little dinner and swimming with the girls - AKA sitting in one foot of baby pool water while Rachael ran in circles and Abi splashed. We looked foolish, but it was so much fun just to laugh and play childish games and be in the moment with our kids. No pride. Wednesday, we took the girls park-hoping to a few really fun parks with great slides, swings, ride-on bouncers, and a merry-go-round. Parks plus a wonderful walk alongside the Louisville riverfront and with full lunch bellies we spent the girls' naptime traveling back home.

Once stepping into the house it was funny how the normal hit us: dog barking, cat zipping about, laundry piles, toy explosions, dishes overload, etc.

And I just had to laugh this morning; 6:55am wake-up call - both Rachael and Abi in sync, nursing the baby while cuddling a not-quite-awake toddler, discovery of no toilet paper, 7am phone call with Goga (my mom) in which Rachael got it into her head that we were going to eat cinnamon rolls, improved cinnamon rolls from crescent rolls while rescuing my hair-tie from the cat, attacking Daddy at 8am as his sleeping in comes to a screeching halt (I couldn't help it!), playing in Mommy and Daddy's bed with Rachael's additions: thrown about foam puzzle pieces and a play cordless phone - on which Matt talked to 'Aunt Jes' about her making him snicker doodle cookies. hehe., Matt jolting out of bed and running for the oven at the realization that the kitchen timer had been going off for a while, sawing cinnamon rolls off the ungreased cookie sheet (promise I followed the ungreased directions) while rescuing another hair-tie and handing the baby salad tongs to pacify, joking and tickling with Matt, serving the toddler while Pounce lives up to his name in stalking and attacking my pajama pant legs. Listening to Rachael's rendition of "Jesus Loves Dakota" sung to our dog with an interlude of pleading for more applesauce, while feeding the baby oatmeal-apples-green beans - buttering, jellying and eating my breakfast between baby spoonfuls. Matt emerging from showering bliss in just enough time to grab breakfast, wash toddler hands, put in her requested Praise Baby movie, and grab a kiss on the way to the office. And as I sit here typing these words with two fingers the above song goes through my head, baby asleep in my arms - just realized the missed dried baby food on her nose, with cat attempting to find space on my lap - sitting on the baby- while in a purry mood. I'm telling you, people, there's no place I'd rather be.. oooo just another day in paradise.

-loving my circus! =)

Autonomy Vs. Rebellion

"I do it myself!" We've all heard our toddler say something along these lines, or maybe it was just some toddler in the grocery store. That breech and stretch of freedom mixed with a mild dose of attitude. And while it's easy to laugh it off as the toddler's obviously poor coordination overtakes them amidst their stubborn nature, their words hit like a spreading epidemic in our culture.

Have you noticed the commercials? Have you noticed the expectation shift?

Kids are portrayed more and more in sitcoms, comedies, kid's shows, and commercials as rebellious individuals. And we laugh at the irony and somehow have trained ourselves to find the humor in the rebellion. I think it started somewhere as a "help me" laugh. You know, one of those laughs that is almost a plea asking the fellow participant to intervene. One of those partially embarrassed laughs.

I'm finding, through the joy of raising a toddler, that many kids are getting stuck in their toddler stage. Every kid has a wonderfully selfish side - welcome to the Fall-out, right? But there is a difference between autonomy and rebellion. Our culture has seemed to laugh where the lines have gotten muffled.

It's like that familiar saying, "things just aren't like they used to be." While progress is a good thing, slowly spiraling out of control is (clears throat) less desirable.

The kids shows now highlight and exemplify the role model as the one who has the sarcastic come-backs. Glamorizing the ability to cut someone else down with your words and rebel. So what's the result? Those pre-teen attitudes get themselves trapped in admiring first-grade bodies.

Calm Expectations

I have heard recently that my children are mellow. And I would like to explore the concept of a mellow child.

Many can attribute mellow to a child's genetic disposition. Or is mellow an environmental creation? Or is mellow a sign of a child's understanding of predictability - for if a child understands what is expected of them and what will come next then where is the nervous anxiety or concern?

I think my kids have a bit of all of these. Though I must note that my kids have their rambunctious moments too. But I am blessed to have learned early the value of being strict with your kids. Being strict does not mean lacking love, just being clear in expectation. This is hard to describe to a by-stander. It's hard to explain to them that your child cannot have the juice because you already told her 'no' and giving in to her crying, no matter how pathetic or no matter how much your heart breaks and thinks about 'just this time', teaching consistency is a far greater skill. No, people, being a Nazi about life is not the answer either. Don't think that my kids won't ever get ice cream or enjoy the freedom of yelling at the top of their lungs during play. But yelling at the top of their lungs in the car is not going to cut it, Boundaries create predictability. Predictability creates stability. Stability creates a calm child.

I guess when it boils down to it I just don't want to live in a constant state of chaos. I don't want to live in chasing down a toddler because running through the parking lot is an option. Introverted me would explode without some quiet around the house - and quiet is a loose definition with 2 of your own kids and 1 you watch throughout the week.

I am blessed by a toddler that enjoys quiet play as well as noisy play. Our mornings here are pretty quiet, with Abi napping, and Rachael usually looking at books, silently pulling a pull-toy in the hallway, and spending some Mommy-time laughing at the jack-in-the-box's flailing arms when you try to stuff him in. Rachael knows what to expect - each morning she's asked to play quietly if she wants to be in the room while I put Abi to sleep, and she prefers to be with us. Then Rachael knows that Abi sleeping means that she needs to be quiet in the hallway, but can feel free to be loud and play in the living room or the playroom or the fireside room. But Rachael has learned the difference between playing loudly and playing recklessly. And I am sincerely thankful to God that my efforts to help Rachael with her self-control, by creating boundaries, have created a very well-mannered (though she odes have her moments) and responsive child. She's still a toddler, people, and no I'm not the baby whisperer (that's my father-in-law), but predictability and clear expectation go for MILES.

Abi, on the other hand, is a more entertainment driven child. Her nature is to desire you to entertain her, or a toy that has movement and entertainment over a quiet toy. Knowing this about her character, though, does not mean she is constantly entertained. She, too, is expected to provide her own entertainment while playing on the floor beside my laundry folding, etc. And while she is more fussy about it at times, she has come into the same ability to self-entertain with understanding of the expectation. Now seriously, people, she's only 8 months old, I'm not asking her to self-entertain for 40 minutes, but age-appropriately I am asking her to self-entertain. And once she understands the expectation (though sometimes Abi is much more stubborn than my Rachael), she too finds enjoyment in the clear boundaries.


I love them for their differences, but the expectation has not changed. How I teach them the expectation is unique to the child, but I try hard to be as consistent with my expectation and keep my end-goal desire in mind. It's not about control. It's about wanting to enjoy the ride of life. It's about wanting to make a home that is welcoming and comfortable for all. It's about wanting to raise my kiddos to enjoy life and get the most from the moment while still learning the values of respect, and honor because of Jesus wanting us to respect and honor each other.


Please hear my heart here... I'm not bragging. God has RICHLY blessed me in the obedience and the approach to teaching self-control and obedience to my kids. And I have a LONG way to go in upbringing kiddos to honor Christ. God is constantly reshaping me and remolding me to honor Him more and more with my family. To God be all the glory for the successes of my little family. I just want to come to Him holding out my family and be able to say, "I tried hard to run after You with these kids. My offering is so insufficient but I give it to You."



What are some ways you give your family to Jesus, no matter how big or small your family?

The Power of 'No'

The predictable utterance of any toddler. The half-hearted response written across any teenager's face at their parent's exciting vacation plans. The programmed response of any adolescent when offered an "uncool" option. Yes, friends. I'm talking about the word, "NO."

Such a small word with great power.

I've found that this word may not produce immediate smiles or high fives, but sometimes it's the best response of honesty available.


God's been teaching me a lot lately. As I type that sentence I wonder at the marvel that He would still teach me and take time to walk this road with me even as I stumble along in my toddling for truth moments.

"Where is your ministry?" is often thrown around in the Christian church.
"My ministry."
"I just can't find a place to serve."

Pastor's wives (and church staff wives), I have found, are either expected to run everything - the church MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) group, Jr. High girl's bible study, vacation bible school kindergarten 2 class, and raise 5 babies - 2 from Africa- while keeping the house cleaned and dinner on the table at 5pm. Or there's the "does our Pastor have a wife?" staff wife that lives in her house and tries to keep from attending prayer meeting in her bathrobe.

Sure there are those staff wives that are able to find the beauty in balancing their crazy kids (who's kids aren't crazy), bake brownies for the next church social, and stick to only teaching their 3rd grade Sunday School class. But while we all aspire to be them we have our wonderful moments of feeling the fluctuating from the overbooked to the hermit.

And while my brain and heart digests the unspoken, yet felt, expectations or, for a kinder word, "desires" of a church Body on the Pastor's wife/staff wife I find God walking in with a whole new life motto.

"Just say 'no'."

What God? Come again?


At some stages of life God is revealing to me that He just wants me here; folding the laundry while singing praises, picking up the talking hamster pet toy for the umpteenth time, changing one more diaper, and serving my husband where I am.

You know, maybe I create too much pressure on myself. Or maybe I am just trying to serve where I have in the past. But I am learning that sometimes the best thing I can do and the best glorifier of Jesus that I can be is the wife that: makes Godly goals with her family, gets up with the baby and rocks that new tooth out of hiding, prays for her husband and listens to his heart, tries to come up with new ways to surprise her husband with an 'I love you' note, joins in toddler dances with flailing arms and no reservation to 'old school' Sunday School songs, and prays 'thank yous' to Jesus for His marvelous works while scraping food off the dishes.

Matt has a lot on his shoulders and He needs to unload on His Savior. But am I ushering Him into the presence of God? Or am I heaping more onto the load because I failed to say 'no'?

Someone will always ask me to do more. And I hope they never stop asking because it gives me opportunities to run to Jesus and say, "What about now? Did You want me to do this?" But there's no shame in saying, "I agree. That ministry direction sounds great and is just what our church needs. I'll pray for more workers alongside you and let you know if God is calling me to add more than prayer."


He's given me so much to be thankful for. And while I'm not to be self-serving and not to seek out the easiest road. I am reminded again and again that I will be standing at the throne of God in judgment (not Heaven or Hell. That question is sealed already.) . And though I will always have "I wish I would have done better" on my lips (if I can even talk), I want to say that I tried hard to serve and serve with my family. I want to say, I received your ministry in my life and ran hard.

So today I woke up stretching (and yawning) as my ministry awoke me over the baby monitor. My ministry filled the kitchen sink and sat by the washer. My ministry woke up for another dry morning and toddled to her little potty. And I kissed my ministry as he headed out the door for the office. And now I'm about to go clean out my ministry's dirty littler box and then rescue my ministry from her torturous napping crib. Tomorrow, if the weather's nice, my ministry could be sitting on the park bench watching her kids play too or standing on the side of the road asking for a hand-out.


Thank you, Lord, for the ministry you have given me.

Please continue to help me grow and mature more in serving my ministry as you expand and develop it.

I'm reminded of the praise Chorus:

Where you lead me, Lord, I will follow...
Where you lead me, Lord, I will go...


-to God be the glory.

Unpredictable

If there's one thing I've learned it's that life with a 2 year old and an 8 month old can be pretty unpredictable. Let me show you what I mean:

When she decided to pick her own seat at the snack table, I didn't really know what I agreed to. =)

Sometimes smiles are inevitable.


A balloon can quickly become a best friend.

You never really know what she'll show off from the dress up box.


She always looks like Daddy.
But in some moments she REALLY looks like Daddy. ;)



But no matter what may come, I'll still be addicted to


that laughing smile



and those baby blues.

Overheard

Dakota howls and jumps about.

Matt standing at the coat closet, "Hey listen. I'm not going outside to freeze my butt off without a jacket because you're a little impatient."

Dakota howls at him and jumps about.


-Sometimes talking back is funny.-
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Background: We have recycled a butter tub to use in the bathtub as a small bucket with which to clean soap from baby hair.

Rachael with all innocence: "Ready Abi?" Holding the bucket of water above Abi's head. "Look down and hold your breath." (Quoting what she has been told many a time.)

- Sometimes my Little Mommy needs to be reminded that I'm the Mommy. hehe. -

No one freak out, people, I caught her in time. =)
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Eyes Wide Open

We enjoyed a Sara Groves concert last night. As I commented on Facebook, it was such a blessing to see the face of my little Rachael light up when Sara sang her favorite song. It's like a whole new world opened on that toddler's face as she heard the familiar favorites that fill our car speakers and warm our home, played and sung from the heart of the writer on stage, behind the piano in a local church. Two worlds collided. And that toddler just had to stand on the pew and see Sara from our seats - five or so rows back. Rachael's little voice singing along as nearly a years worth of memorized songs poured from her little mind. Too precious. Too precious.

Next time Matt and I see Sara Groves, and the next time she'll be n this area for that matter, is at the Orphans weekend in May that we're planning on attending. I didn't even know this was going on, in all honesty, until Matt wrapped the information and gave it to me for my birthday. See... it's way more than an excuse to sing along to my favorite artist (though that is quite thrilling in itself).

Matt and I feel compelled and called to adopt. We're still in the development stages of what that will mean for our family and feel very comfortable with being on the outer circle and beginning phases of that process. It's just one more way that we're striving to serve Jesus with all that we have. (Don't worry this won't be the last that you hear of this, much to your chagrin.)


I've been reminded lately in all things that there is so much more out there for us to do and pray for. It's so easy to get caught in the child-raising phase that before you know it the routines become selfish, as if your family was the only one that existed. Don't worry, people, I'm not talking about throwing out naptime -- no, no, that's for the good of mankind. =) But I am talking about using time wisely.

It's looking for those conversations about Jesus. Seeking those times to encourage a fellow believer. Wanting Jesus to be more and more in your conversation. That Kingdom work would ocurr and not just more small-talk.

Because believe it or not, each day we leave a legacy. A legacy exemplifying who we are, what we value, and why we keep on going. And I want my legacy to be more than good morals and good values and nice words.

- Oh that they would see Jesus. -

And that I'd do better at getting of the way.

That I may decrease that HE may increase.


I'm not trying to control the conversation or manipulate others. I'm just wanting to leave good seeds and walk beside others as we figure out what it is to constantly seek His face.

I mean come on, if He can use this filthy rag then I know he can use any one of us.

In the words of a sweet Sara Groves song, "I'm gonna keep my eyes wide open, keep my eyes wide open."



- wanting Your perspective to trump mine.

Changes

As you might have noticed, I opened the window and brightened up the blog page a bit. It was time for a change and I enjoy the yellow. If the text is hard to read in the contrast (since I don't usually read my text on my actual blog site) then let me know and I'll see what I can do to fix it.

As with this blog page change, we have been instilling little changes in our household to better the environment (no, I have not been evicted). We're trying harder to focus on Jesus in our everyday lives and integrate more of Christ into our thoughts and conversations. Thus has begun the following changes:

- the Family Goals : We set up 3 goals (summaries of the values we wanted to add to our lives in the next year) and two specific sub-goals underneath each of the three goals. Our goals are as follows:

1. Integrate more scripture into our daily lives
   
2. Talk more about Jesus
   
3. Pray and Worship more as a family

We've added writing scriptures on bathroom mirrors, reading the same scriptures daily as your spouse (good accountability at mealtimes), praying with our kids, a family worship time weekly, and a few other things to try to grow closer to Jesus as a family. We're taking it piece by piece and integrating each piece into our lives until it becomes normal. Then when the year turns over we can assess our ability to do these things and add/change things as needed to better serve Christ as a family. Our hopes is that instilling these attributes with Rachael and Abi while they're babies will help it not to seem so foreign to keep Jesus on your mind later in life.

Also had a little fun in making a scrapbook page of our family goals, framing it and putting it on the wall.

We also added a Mommy chore chart so as not to find myself distracted and overwhelmed by the self-destructing house. I made a second scrapbook page saying "to do" with the days lined up much like a calender. Then I put it in a frame up on the wall and sue a dry-erase marker to write the chores onto the glass of the frame. That way things can be subject to change should one of those days arise in which Abi REFUSES to be put down. It's nice to feel the accomplishment of completing a task and saying, "Sorry, that isn't my focus for today" when distractors arise (no, I won't let a toilet explosion keep flooding the house until I can get it written on the chore list).

These two changes, which ultimately have resulted in more changes, have not only helped me feel more organized in my efforts to better serve my family, but also help me feel like I'm able to contribute more and use my time more honoring to God. Managing the chore list and reminding myself of the ultimate goal to raise a God-honoring family is pushing us closer to Christ. (Reminds me of God telling the Israelites to keep the Word of God attached to their foreheads -Ex. 13:9- and repeat the Law of the Lord day and night -Psalm 1). Funny what a little intentionality will do for the soul.

How are you finding new ways to bring Christ to the forefront of your family's minds?

We Lost Him

Today I miss Jesus.

The Body of Christ can be sticky and ugly sometimes when we forget about Jesus. So many times I find it easy to get lost in the talking about nothingness that Kingdom Work seems to have fallen off the map. It's as if talking about family vacations, potty training, pets, new home repair projects, and a whole other list of things takes the spotlight to the things God is doing all around us.

I miss sitting amongst a group of believers whom want nothing more than Jesus.

I miss talking about Jesus and sharing about Jesus and being obsessed with Jesus so much in conversation that you leave the conversation with an even greater hunger for Him than when you started.

I miss the edifying speech that supernaturally overflows amongst friends who are seeking Jesus in their lives.

How come it feels like those people have fallen off the planet in some churches?

How come it feels like those people have left the Bible Study table?

How come it feels like Bible Study and Fellowships are less and less about Jesus and more and more about some created agenda, two second devotion amid small talk, or fake prayer requests as a means of venting home-life frustrations?

I am not trying to be critical for the sake of being critical. There really is a point here.

Have we found we have been traveling for days with our friends and neighbors only to panic after three days realizing we left Jesus behind in the city? How terrifying to realize that we have gone through the motions of Christianity and been traveling for days, or even longer, without the Savior?

How can you too make the Mary and Joseph u-turn to go back for Christ?

God has been challenging me with this for a while.

And I just miss Jesus.