For Mother's Day

originally published in Abilene Families
(originally written May, 2006)

As a mother, you would think that I would be all about Mother’s Day – a day just for ME, a day to get, get, get, and a day when praise is lavished on all mothers. Who could ask for anything more? Truthfully, mother’s day – especially the Hallmark version of it – makes me very uncomfortable. You know which kind of image I’m talking about – a young mother, clad in a pristine white gown in an immaculate, beautifully decorated home, holding a perfectly chubby, cooing baby as they gaze into each other’s eyes.

The poetry accompanying the image details the sacrifices the loving mother makes and how wonderful she is and on and on and on. I simply can’t relate: My home has never been immaculate OR decorated, I learned a long time ago not to wear white while holding a child of any age, and I regret how much time I didn’t spend gazing at my babies before they transformed into galloping toddlers, now pre-teens.

The words are what make me squirm the most. Mothers are not defined by the Hallmark moments, but by the horrible moments. Anybody loves to play with a giggling baby or rambunctious toddler, but it’s mom who cleans up when potty-training is not quite successful. It’s mom wiping heads and doing laundry and providing a clean basin when the stomach virus tears through the house at 3 a.m.

It’s mom holding constant vigil at a hospital bedside or waiting room. It’s mom lifting, feeding, bathing, and caring for a handicapped child day in and day out. It’s mom wearing a trough in the carpet next to her bed as she kneels for a child who has lost their way or is fighting in harm’s way or whose heart is broken beyond repair. I don’t know of any woman who would ask to be put in any of those situations, but those are the moments that define motherhood. We don’t want praise or pretty words about things we do that we would rather not do. It’s just what we do. It’s being a mom.

While these flowery thoughts and sentiments make me somewhat uncomfortable, they can be downright painful for many people. Mothers who must wait until they get to heaven to hug their child again, mothers who selflessly blessed an adoptive family with their own baby, mothers whose only children are really nieces, nephews, and friends since life has not brought her children of her own and countless other situations can bring pain and disappointment to this day of celebration.

As you think of the women you know that you would consider “extraordinary mothers”, they are probably women making it just one day at a time in extraordinary situations. You probably don’t call to mind a mom of two healthy children with a healthy spouse still living in the home. You probably don’t think of someone like, well, me. The extraordinary mothers we know may have many children raising them all to be successful individuals, may have handicapped or chronically ill children, may have lost a child, or may go to great lengths for her children to have normalcy in the midst of difficult life circumstances. Few of these women would want the accolades or flowery words of a Hallmark commercial. They are simply putting one foot in front of the other because another being in this life depends on it. It’s just what we do. It’s being a mom.

I can’t speak for all moms, but as much as I love words, I don’t want to hear many about what kind of mom I am on Mother’s Day. For me, it simply reminds me of all the places I fall short or what a bad attitude I occasionally have while doing what I do – being a mom. Oh, sure, I won’t turn down any gifts – diamonds are my favorite, sapphire is my birthstone, and if you’re buying a ring remember that my fingers are crazy skinny – but if you need to use any words, a simple, “Thanks for what you do” will suffice, and I wouldn’t mind hearing that once a week. Not saying, “But I don’t want to” when asked to do your job would be nice, because I rarely want to cook your dinner or fold your clothes, but it’s what I do. It’s being a mom. And, most of all, just grow up to make your momma proud.

Unfortunately, in the past year, my children have been acquainted with several children who have lost a parent to death. Knowing that anything can happen, I have been reminded at those times to let my children know what I want most for them out of life. At one point we were driving and discussing a child who had lost a parent and how hard that would be. I said, “If anything ever happens to me, first I want you to know how much I love you. And all I want for you in life is to love the Lord and to marry someone who loves the Lord.”

This brought a know-it-all nod from one child who said in a satisfied tone, “I knew you were going to say that.”

Very well, then. Carry on. That’s all I need to know for a happy Mother’s Day!

Seasons of Parenting

Originally published in Abilene Families

‘Tis the season ... for something. Always. Right now, considering you are a timely “Abilene Families” reader, it’s the season to be jolly. On demand. Because the song says so, complete with plenty of Fa’s and La’s to go with it. It’s really hard not to be jolly while singing Fa La La La La La La La, so you may as well sing along and give in.

In a few weeks, it will be the season for resolving. On demand. Because the calendar says so. Whether you want to or not, it will be time to look ahead and decide to be a better you in the upcoming year. If you are having a hard time thinking of a way that you need to improve, you obviously don’t live with a teenager.

Soon that season will evolve into another, then another, and we will be back here again next year, wondering what happened to 2010. Life is simply a rolling tide of seasons strung together by heartaches and celebrations.

As a parent, many seasons seem to flow from one to another, rarely with much fanfare.  I do remember with clarity the first time I walked into a store and didn’t immediately have to dump $40 worth of diapers into my shopping cart. I also remember first walking into a store and realizing that no one in my house fit into toddler clothes any more.

The relinquishing of the pacifier still requires time with a therapist -- for me, not the child -- and  I did take note of walking home from elementary school for the last time with my youngest last year. But many other milestones and landmarks are missed as the seasons fly by, one after another.

One of my children recently requested to be able to try an additional sport next year. Our family reserved elementary school mostly for unstructured play time for our kids, and each child played one sport. Now that we have moved to middle school it has become a time to spread wings and try different sports and find where each child’s gifts and skills lie.

I was picturing what our life would look like during the time of this dual-sport season and it wouldn’t be pretty. But I reminded myself that “it’s only for a season”. One very brief, eight weeks’ long season of quick dinners and rushed evenings. ‘Tis the season ... for hurrying through life to wait for the athletics bus.

Dorothy Evslin is quoted as saying, ““It will be gone before you know it. The fingerprints on the wall appear higher and higher. Then suddenly they disappear.”

I know that no matter the season I may be in life, it will change by the time I realize where I put my keys. There is no time to sweat the small stuff, only time to soak in the laughter and sweep the annoyances under the couch with the dog hair.

This season, whether it’s time to be jolly or time to be resolving, I will do both. I will joyfully resolve to look around through the madness. I will enjoy the season with my family, for there will never be another exactly like it. It truly is the season to be jolly -- no Fa La La’s required.

The Glamorous Life of a Work-At-Home Writer

I am in exercise clothes, with my hair in a ponytail. However, because I had Bible class at church earlier in the day, I am wearing make-up and earrings.

Child: "You're all gussied up!"

There ya have it. Wearing make-up and earrings constitutes "gussied up."

Sad? Yes.

True? Absolutely.

Doing Small Things With Great Love

Hey, y'all! Checking in on an AMAZINGLY beautiful day. Wow. Here it is almost December, and I think Texas is finally getting the hang of fall. I will take it, though. Love a sunshiney, cool day.

So does Duchess. This is her favorite spot -- the "sunshine patch," we call it. She used to go lie in the sunshine patch outside, but she has decided that she is too old and... she just won't do that anymore. I mean, when you have a perfectly lovely sunshine patch in a temperature controlled house, would you? I think not.






I have been checking back over my Twelve by 2012 goals. On some of them -- woefully behind. Some of them, I was pleasantly surprised at how far ahead I am (I think that was the case on two... :-). And a few, the sad reality is that I have either bitten off more than I can chew (or will realistically and/ or financially can do at this time).  I'll be sure to post an update in the first week of the new year. I know you'll want to mark your calendar for that. :-) Are you working toward any goals to finish out 2011? Already thinking towards 2012? Would LOVE to hear about it!

Remember my wallowing in angst about Who Am I? What do I do, etc.? This post -- Little is Much When God is in It --  REALLY spoke to me today. I think if you take a minute or two to read it, it will bless you, as well. It also called to mind something else excellent that I read earlier this year. I think God wants me to remember -- maybe needs all of us to remember -- that it is not the great, huge things that He is calling us to do.

Of course, Mother Teresa seemed to get this.

via

It's good that I am not called to great, huge things. Because my laundry, carpooling, grocery shopping, and orthodontist-running days don't seem to be amounting to much in the overall scheme of life. But (if I have a little bit of an attitude adjustment...) I can do them with great love. Perhaps I will never know the difference that will make to the cashier, orthodontist tech, other driver, or anything. But I am called to love. This I know. It's good to have purpose.

Tell me your goals to finish 2011. What about goals for 2012? What about small things with great love? Got anything in mind? Always love hearing from you!

Lessons Learned From a Dinging Car

originally in Word for Today

My family is gloriously accustomed to not having a car payment, and are willing to put up with some interesting quirks of the vehicles to maintain that status. The one where my car will start and then die is less amusing than some, but so far it's been fairly harmless.

Years ago I had a vehicle with a particularly amusing quirk. Some sort of sensor had been thrown and after you started the car and all of the other dinging, beeping, buzzing, and bells and whistles shut off the car would start dinging. Loudly. Five sets of five dings, with about 15 seconds between sets. It originally didn't bother me too much, but started the day before we took a short trip.

On this trip we learned that sometimes after an hour or so the car would burst forth with another 25 dings, grieving that it was running so long without dinging. Neither my husband nor I really enjoy repetitive loud noises, but my husband really did not enjoy the new feature of the car. So I decided that it's all in your attitude about the dings. The dings are simply our car reminding us, "I have served you well for many years. Do NOT take me for granted. Just a reminder..."

Troy didn't really appreciate my over-the-top rosy outlook, either. I decided that the dings could be my reminder to think of 5 things I'm thankful for. I shared this new philosophy and insight on the way to church one Sunday morning, shouting my idea to the kids over the dinging and Troy's yelling at the dinging. I proceeded to list things I was thankful for as the car dinged away.

I continued to be thankful as my car dinged away. On my errand day I had opportunity to be ultra-thankful when I started and stopped the car at least 5 times, giving me no fewer than 25 opportunities to be thankful (and 125 dings in my ear, if you're doing the math). That particular day not much went right, though.

Later in the evening, quite unhappy about getting back out of the house on a rainy cold night, the kids and I piled into the car. As the car began dinging, Riley asked, "Mom, what are you thankful for?" I HAD come up with 25 things earlier in the day -- but I was completely out. I wanted to shout, "NOTHING!!! I am not thankful for one darn thing in this day!!!!" Realizing that wouldn't be a very good example, I simply said, "Riley, I've got nothing."

He began, "I'm thankful for a warm car!!" Bless his sweet little heart. Next ding was Ashley's turn, "I'm thankful I have Expedition 56 (new group at church for 5th and 6th graders)." And away we went, thankful for our wonderful, blessed lives, in our blessing of a quirky vehicle reminding us to be thankful.

The dinging car is long gone now. The kids are older now and likely wouldn’t play along with their crazy mother on such a silly task to simply distract ourselves from the fact that our car was falling slap apart. But I’m thankful for the Lord’s provision of a vehicle that worked, and even of a noisy reminder that it didn’t have to work. Sometimes it would be good for alarms to go off periodically to remind me to be grateful for all the things in my life.

“give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5:18

Happy Birthday to Riley!

Fourteen years ago this morning -- at 5:24, to be exact -- a VERY large Riley came screaming his way into this world. And he didn't stop screaming for a few years.

Nine pounds, 2 ounces. If you have ever seen me in person -- I am not a large woman, nor am I married to a large man. Nine pounds. We told people for a while that I quit having babies because they were getting 2 pounds bigger every time. The reality is we quit having babies because this one was so very screamy and grouchy there was no way we were rolling that dice again.

We found out that he had a physical reason for his grouchiness -- all manor of gut troubles. Once we got him somewhat squared away and fixed up we also found out there was a little bit of a personality reason for his grouchiness. He was a wee bit strong-willed.

Once we got THAT squared away, and established that, yes, the tall people really were going to be in charge of the house, then he actually was an enjoyable and funny little guy. Even in the hardest of days with him, the sudden bright spots of his insightful questions and love with reckless abandon brought joy to my soul.

We moved to Abilene shortly before he turned 4. The next year, he was in pre-school 2 days a week, our house had flooded (and we were trying to rebuild, not living at home, etc.). It was a dark time in my life -- and he was such a bright spot. We spent many hours "hanging out" together, running errands for the reconstruction of the house, shopping, etc. He was an early reader, so I would just be sure he had a book to read, throw it and him in the back of the car, and off we would go.

Riley is still an avid reader and, like his daddy, loves all manor of trivia. I keep threatening to write down every time he says, "Hey, Mom, did you know...?" so that I can have a book full of Riley's Random Facts. Most of the time I did not know. He can kind of wear me out.

More than that. He makes me laugh. The child has a wit. Not going to lie -- it's from my family, but it is all my brother. How does one end up with their sibling's child? I don't know, but somehow my son is the spitting image AND personality of my brother. And I'm so thankful.

The first child makes you a parent. The second child makes all of you a family. Riley completed our little family and I can't imagine my life without him.

Riley, I love being your mom. You make me laugh and think every day. More than all of the wonderful things you are, you have a heart for the Lord and His children. You bless and inspire me by how you treat the least of these. You are a joy.

Decorating for Halloween? Yay or Nay?

originally in Abilene Families magazine

It was a gorgeous fall afternoon, if a bit on the breezy side -- not that fall afternoons come in many other varieties than breezy in West Texas. I had to leave one job early to go claim a child from middle school to shuttle her to the most recent athletic event.

As I drove along, my head swimming with deadlines unmet, emails to return, projects piling up, and family errands that must be done, I noticed what I thought was a neighborhood construction project. With a double-take on the tombstones, I realized it was simply Halloween decorations. Of course. Halloween decorations when it isn’t even October. For the love.

If you have been by or inside my home, you know that my landscaping, interior decorating, and holiday decorating can all be described as ‘minimalist’ at most generous. I’m just so darn happy to get food on the table and clean clothes in the drawers, anything in addition to that is considered extraneous and bordering on obsessively overachieving.

I actually do decorate for the holiday celebrating the birth of our Savior, but every year I get out less and less, and delegate more and more. I figure in a few years I’ll be down to having the kids put out one strand of lights each and call it good.

When the kids were little I would even get out a bunny or two at Easter, but that quickly declined to me crawling through the attic the day before Easter just to find the box with the baskets in it for the egg hunt. My own hunt before the hunt, if you will. Of course this was immediately followed by me crawling back into the attic the day after Easter to toss the baskets back in a random box, making next year’s hunt all the more exciting.

But to decorate for the holiday that is celebrated by going to beg candy off of the neighbors while dressed as a geometrically clad underwater creature? Um, no. Now, I could go down the pious religious road and say that it’s a Pagan holiday, All Hallow’s Eve, blah-dee blah. But the truth is, I simply do not have the wherewithal to decorate for such a short-lived event.

I think the entire reason I am able to decorate at all for Christmas is that school and life comes to a halt around Thanksgiving, allowing for decorating time, and if I am really on top of things I can get decorations thrown back in the attic before school gets too cranked back up in the new year.

With apologies to Halloween die-hards, I just can’t pull it off amongst soccer, band, volleyball, PTA, tennis, Open House, algebra homework, and the million six other things my family is juggling at this point.

So, instead of agreeing to disagree on the whole decorating for Halloween thing, let’s do it this way: if your home, especially your front yard is decorated for Halloween to the point that I mayenjoy it while I drive by, thank you. Thank you for giving my family something to enjoy about the season and the fun and frivolity that comes with Halloween that won’t be taking place at my house.

I, on the other hand, will be the lowest common denominator. I will be the house that the rest of you may look at to say, “Well, I didn’t do much, but at least it isn’t the Stirman’s house. Bless ‘em.”
You’re welcome. We all have our place in this world. I have found mine, and I am claimin’ it.
*****************************************************
So, what about you? Decorate for Halloween or no? How extensively? I am actually considering buying a pumpkin...

Who needs Halloween decorations with that under the table?

Twelve by 2012

I'm going to start getting back here more often so that my first line of my blog isn't apologizing for being gone so long. It's been a crazy week in a good way. I've done very little writing of any kind and especially not of the bloggy kind -- as you've noticed.

I came across something that is right up my alley. As you have probably noticed, goal-setting is a big deal for me. Goal-accomplishing? Meh. You win some, you lose some. But if I don't set intentional goals,  I'm likely to live my life in a vortex of Facebook, Pinterest, and a sad workout routine I call "useless." I'm especially liking using this blog as my accountability place. I post it publicly, and now I have to follow through.

Danni at Oh, Hello Friend decided to cut the procrastination and finish the year strong. She made a list of 12 things she wants to get accomplished by 2012.  As she points out, it's a specific amount of time but not too long. Mark Batterson said at the Catalyst conference recently, "A goal without a deadline is dead on arrival."

So I'm joining in. Twelve things to do before 2012:

1. Get the 3 boxes out of my living room that have been sitting there since we moved in in May.

2. (recycled from Danni): Zero out my email inbox (currently at 265).

3. Finish my "Sarah is unavailable" file -- what some call an "in case of death" file. I am one rockin' family manager that keeps the plates spinning, the bills paid, the dog vaccinated, and everyone where they are supposed to be. If I were hospitalized or passed away, I would hate for my family to have an added stress of wondering where to take the dog to the vet or how to get into the online bank account to pay bills. This is something I have been meaning to work on, but the last week has reminded me that anything can happen to anyone at any moment. It's another way for me to love my family. My personal deadline for this one is Nov. 15 (I started last night).

4. Decorate foyer (and change out light fixture), decorate living room, and my bedroom (walls especially -- very barren currently).

5. Register and begin training for the Cowtown Half Marathon.

6. Start to date my husband more regularly (this has to wait until November due to family craziness).

7. Plan for my kids' birthdays. I know they are older, but they are around the holidays and kind of always get overlooked/ rushed over. We have a Sweet 16 this year, so we have to do something special.

8. Submit articles for publication... as in, ask a magazine/ newspaper to reject me. Really don't like this part of my calling.

9. Plan for and decorate for Christmas (someone please just let it come and let me enjoy it -- I don't want to have to get ready for it. Do. Not. Have it in me currently).

10. Deal with pictures on the camera (download to computer/ organize pics).

11. Read 6 books. I have slowed down WAY too much on my reading. You know what Stephen King says? "If you don't have time to read, you don't have time to write." But I bet Stephen King is no fun on Pinterest.

12. Finish up and memorize well my last few scriptures for Beth Moore's Siesta Scripture Memory Team. I've at least logged them in thanks to sweet encouragement from Joelle, but I need to get them inside my head! Because we are going to the celebration in January! See you there?

Join me? You can make a list on paper or on your blog. If you have a blog, link it in the comments of Danni's post. Let's keep each other accountable, 'kay? Finish 2011 strong!

Quick Hello!

Hey, y'all! Wow, let me get away from posting every day and I just totally slack off.


What a FUN season of life I am in, though. I knew that October would be busy and it is -- are we halfway through yet? Not yet, I guess.

Fall is uber-busy for our family, as I mentioned here, so I am hanging on for the ride now. We have been through a few football games and one marching band competition. The best is yet to come. Troy is doing some traveling and we are all surviving.

Of course, one of our family is a HUGE Texas Rangers fan, so we are all watching baseball, too. 

I know that this season is SO busy yet will go SO fast. I see my kids doing wonderful things on their fields, and I hear them discussing amazing things within these walls -- and I want to soak up every drop.

I want to celebrate my kids and who they are and all that God is creating them to be. I continue to see God at work in them daily -- their humor, their missional heart, their compassion. And, of course, I see me in them -- the complaining, the hesitancy to do the hard things, the choosing the easy way. I pray so often for God to capture HIS way in them and use it.

Riley brings me joy in the way he makes me laugh and his dry wit -- but also because he has to help me cook dinner almost every night while I run the band carpool to pick up sister. He's learning some crazy kitchen skillz, y'all. To his future wife: you're welcome... :-)

Ashley makes me smile every day with her passion for her sports teams, and her love of people -- but she also helps me in the house in the morning before school. She loves to menu plan, and every day has a new idea of something to try for me.

Then there's my Troy -- not one of my kids, but just keeping me smiling through it. We see each other so seldom these days, but he is so precious. Today he drove me all over creation because of something that I thought was important to one of the kids. Inside, I know he was thinking, "It will be okay if this doesn't happen..." but he knew that it was a big deal to me. So he kept driving... because he loves me so.

I have been blessed with an amazing family that make me smile and laugh. By God's grace and mercy, He has given me with family (as in so many other things) so much more than I deserve. I just want to pause a minute in the middle of the mayhem to be crazy-thankful for who they are.

This post took WAY too long to write -- we celebrated the Rangers' win tonight, a child got home from football, and we helped with some homework. Typical night stuff -- and why I don't usually write at night.

What about you? What's up in your October?

Walking in Faith

Originally Published on Word for Today

"Now the Lord was gracious to Sarah as He had said, and the Lord did for Sarah what He had promised."  Genesis 21:1

Sighing from the tips of my toes, I leaned my head on the seatback of the car. We were on our way out of town. If ever my family needed to leave town – and the mess and mayhem – it was now.

Less than a year ago, we were so thrilled for my husband to get a job at the university where we met. We couldn’t wait to get our children moved to our new town and start the life that the Lord had for us here. Little did we know that the Lord had us on a path of learning to trust that was hard to walk.

Six months after we moved in, 8 inches of muddy water flooded our home. I tried to ‘keep my chin up’ as my home went into demolition phase.  My belongings that weren’t destroyed by the flood were crammed willy-nilly into various and sundry places.  We moved into an apartment complex across town full of college students thoroughly enjoying summer vacation. 

Granted, we were thankful to have the apartment. There were none to be had in town since so many people were in the same situation. We were able to live in the apartment rent-free for a few weeks to hold it for a college student. She wouldn’t need the apartment for six weeks. Surely we could be back in our house by then, right?

Part of my husband’s job required travel, so many days it was just the three of us. I talked to the Lord often, and prayed to radiate Him through the loneliness and annoying circumstances. Besides annoying, floods can take as much toll on finances as a move. We were heading for financial crisis. I prayed to trust.

Now, we were getting out of town for a previously planned vacation to visit friends. But when we returned from our trip, we would have 4 days to find a place to live and get moved.

I have learned there is a very, very fine line between walking in faith and walking in denial. I was leaning WAY over on the denial side.

The kids were settled with books and music. I was happy for a moment to think of anything other than reality. My 6-year-old, however, found it the perfect opportunity to think of exactly that – and worry.

We had just passed the first red light out of the apartment complex when she spoke up, “We really need to find a place to live.” Oh, boy. I didn’t want to think about it, and I sure didn’t want to talk about, so I dreamed up an answer and tossed it back without opening my eyes, “Yes, we do, and God’s going to take care of it.”

I would love to tell you I believed that.

Brushing that statement away like an annoying mosquito, she continued, "Okay, but we really need a place to live!!"

Now I was exasperated and responded more sharply than necessary, "Did you hear me? Don't you think God will take care of it?"

She couldn't see how God could possibly relate to her immediate and pressing need of a place to live. "Well, no! It's our problem, not His!"

Trying to calm down, I realized how recently in my own faith I thought the same thing. I started again, calmly, to remind her (and myself), "We're God's children. In the same way that your problems are my problems, our problems are His problems. God is going to look out for us."

I wish I could tell you that we immediately pulled the car over to pray and petition God, or that moment a truck drove by that said "follow me to your new place to live." I wish I could even tell you that immediately she got it and was at peace. The truth was she muttered, "Okay" with the tone of "whatever", but I needed to hear my own words: "I am God's child. My problems are His problems. He will take care of my smallest needs."

The conversation dropped. The kids turned to their books and other car toys while my husband and I chatted about anything but the wreck that was our (lack of) living arrangement.

Twenty minutes later we were driving through Small Town, America (pop. 2831) when my husband's cell phone rang. It was one of the elders from our church telling us that a woman at our church was offering her parent's house for anyone who had been flooded and needed a place to live.

To this day, I don't know who that moment had a bigger impact on, me or my daughter. But I am so thankful that in the moment that her young faith needed something concrete and my not-so-young faith needed peace of heart, our loving Father gave us both.

Catching Up and Planning Ahead

Y'all. You thought I was not going to make it today, huh?

It's overcast and has even rain a little today. A perfect day for doing some catching up in the house and on my work stuff. Scootch up a chair, I'll pour you a cup, and I'll fill you in on what all's going on.

Don't forget! Today (assuming you are reading this the day it's written) is THE LAST day to enter the contest to win a $10 Amazon gift card. Your entry is your comment giving me a name for my newsletter (there are some good ones there!) but the drawing will be a random drawing, so don't worry that it doesn't sound all clever or word-smith-y. Anyone who will use the word 'word-smith-y' is certainly not one to judge!

Are you following "The Cleft of the Rock" on Facebook? You can click on this link, or you can click my little Facebook button over there. Either way, I have come across some very cool articles and quotes lately about marriage and forever love that have been fun to pass along.

As mentioned (probably 42 times more than you wanted to hear) it's a busy season for our family. Perhaps not the best season for me to be trying to focus on writing from home as a business.

I have applied for several jobs that haven't worked out, so I am sticking to what I know I can do -- writing. But, like any other business you will run yourself, it only works if you do. So, I am trying to settle into a routine. And so far haven't yet.

I think back to what Dave Ramsey says about learning to budget: "You aren't going to get this overnight. You can bank on getting it wrong. That's part of the learning process."

John Bingham says the same thing about running: "When one becomes an athlete, one can exchange criticism for assessment. There are no bad runs or races, only events to be considered."

Yes, as Edison came up with 999 ways not to invent the light bulb, I have at least 8 days under my belt of how not to have the best day writing (I have had 3 or 4 pretty good ones, though -- CLAIMIN' them!) But I refuse to let the crazy voices inside my head (you love those guys -- they're the ones that let me write funny stuff) tell me that means I'll never be a writer. No, I am having Sane Sarah tell all the other voices: "Let's examine the pitfalls here and what exactly is going on and find some solutions."

So this afternoon I had a little ministry business meeting and made a plan. No... I don't have a plan yet. I identified problems and wrote SOME solutions, but "further action is required." Do I sound more official if I toss out business-y phrases? I need to use 'leverage' for good measure. That word honestly makes my blood pressure go up because I am so OVER! it being used.

I get a LOT of my productivity resources and ideas from Michael Hyatt's website. He has many valuable tools and ideas on his blog on a regular basis. If you are in any supervisor or leadership position, have your own business, etc. -- you would do well to start reading his blog on a regular basis. Wise man.

So, I am off to make myself an "action plan" to get those other things done. You go enter that contest!
And have a super evening.

Marriage Monday: Encouraging Words

My thoughts on marriage today are prompted by Trey's post making the amazing claim: "How to Drop the Divorce Rate to 7% in Your Marriage."

Well, I was all about that. I have mentioned about a time or 50 that Troy and I have stared divorce in the face and by the grace of God and prayers of others we came out on the other side. And we are wiser and gentler with each other for it (did you know that most marriages -- like 80%-ish -- that are unhappy report that 5 years later are happier than ever? Because they have found the value in sticking it out).

However, that doesn't mean that we are immune to common pitfalls in marriage. Hyper-aware that they are taking place, maybe, but they still crop up from time-to-time.

Take now, for instance. Let's push aside the fact that the kids and I have only lived in this area for 3 months, so aren't super familiar with neighbors and friends, and certainly don't have a carpool support system. Fall has defaulted to being our crazy-busy season since that includes activities of both of our kids. Marching band practice has one going until late day while football practice gets one up in the wee hours of the morning, football games (for both) are on 2 nights a week, then the schools want us to meet the teacher, party with the band, and do all kinds of other things that take up evenings and time and gasoline.

It is a fun season of life watching our kids do what God has gifted them to do, but it does coincide with a busy season at Troy's work, when they also happen to be short-handed. Today is a fairly typical 13-hour day for him to launch a busy week that concludes with an out-of-town business trip over the weekend. It's our season of life and where God has us now.

So communication is brief. Emails and texts fly about schedules, finances, errands, and home maintenance. By the end of the day, it's "I'm starving," "What's for dinner," and "Who's turn is it to clean up?" That's about all we have left.

When Trey's blog post mentioned to compliment our spouse 5 times for every negative thing we say, I confess I was at a loss.
"Your car looks so shiny as you drive away in the mornings..."
"You spell everything right in your texts to tell me how late you're going to be..."

Once I started paying attention -- that if I wasn't going to compliment, I had to quit being negative, for starters -- I found places to compliment. When you've been married ... as long as we have (a number that we actually disagree on -- we have no idea how long it will be this November ... but I'm pretty sure I'm right... :-) you forget that someone still likes to hear compliments on their appearance.

But of course I lOVE to get compliments -- and Troy is good at that. I'll have to compliment him on  his complimenting me.

If it's really that easy, will you do it? Compliment your spouse 5 times for every negative thing you say? I found myself biting my tongue about ridiculous criticisms (where the soy sauce goes in the pantry, for example) just so I wouldn't have to dream up compliments about someone I'm barely spending any time around currently. Yes, I am being bare bones honest right now.

I married an amazing, godly man and it has been good for me to remember all the reasons why! What about you?

Naming Newsletter Help (WITH a Contest!)

Here we are, 15 days into September.

I have done it -- I have written a blog post every single day (with one of them posting a day late due to a disabling migraine).

Lemme confess this: I am tired. Not of writing. (Oh, I'm about to lay a bombshell on you that will cause you to roll your eyes and say, "But I am tired of your writing. Enough...!")

I'm just tired. Maybe it's the cloud cover. Maybe it's the fact that my alarm goes off at 4:45a so that I can meet my running partner at 5:15. Maybe it's that we keep having weekends-o-fun (that I think I pinky-promised you I would tell you all about and I haven't) and I need a weekend-o-rest. Super Bad. I think I have one penciled in for the weekend before Thanksgiving, but I see band directors eyeing it for something that will keep my children out until ridonkulous hours.

So. Today I'm a little bit at a lack of writing material, because heaven knows you don't want me detailing how tired I am. Instead of doing tons of writing I'm planning and working on ministry stuff, planning for the spring, and working on things I should have done a long time ago. One of those things is looking at my calendar to see which dates I have available for speaking in the spring. If your group (conference/ club/ small group/ retreat/ ladies class/ church gathering/ etc.) needs a speaker, I would be honored to visit with you to see if I would be a good fit for your group. (P.S. -- I just looked at my speaking topics. Evidently I could stand to be practicing what I preach -- or something like that...)

One of the things I'm working on today is to create a(n email) newsletter. Yes, this is where you, faithful blog reader, think, "Why in heaven's name would I need to read your newsletter? Pretty sure when I'm reading about how tired you are, we have scraped the bottom of the subject-matter barrel and you have nothing left to say to me..." EXCELLENT point, dear and lovely blog reader...

And while I will be thrilled for you to read my newsletter, it's really not for you, you see. Because you are my faithful. You show up over here when I lament about my dog losing hair, losing my dog, or just generally losing my mind. You rock that way.

Once I get my newsletter up and running (target date: Oct. 1.  Feel free to ask me about it!) it will be for folks that have heard me speak and/ or may be interested in having me speak, but what exactly am I about anyway? It will probably be a once per quarter newsletter, so just 4 times per year in your email inbox.

Here is where you come in. I do articles and words and loquaciousness. Brief and succinct are not my strong points. Can you help me name a newsletter for my speaking ministry? It can be a play on words based on my name: "Sarah's ... Stubborn... Stumping.." (see? I told you I shouldn't do this...) or it can be based on the title of my ministry: "Thoughts from The Cleft of the Rock"

To encourage you to put your thinking caps on, I would like to offer a $10 Amazon gift card to a random entrant/ commenter that gives me an idea. Here's how this will work: Leave one comment on the blog  with your BEST entry for a newsletter title. Only one newsletter title entry per person, please. However, for an additional entry, you can click on my facebook link over there and follow me on facebook. Comment and tell me that you did, or leave me a comment to tell me that you already do. So there should be a maximum of two entries per person.

I will accept entries for a week -- through midnight, September 22. I will choose a winner by a random number generator, so even if you think the best you can come up with is cheesy, toss it out there! For those of you that read my blog on Facebook and generally comment over there, you're going to have to add your comment here ('lest I get REALLY confused). 

So get thinking, and be clever. Ready.... GO!

The Teens Keep Me Laughing!

I remember when my kids were little hearing a woman with a 13, 15, 16, and 18 year old say that she would rather have 4 teenagers than 4 2-year olds. "Hmmm..." thought I, "I'll just have to see about that!" Not that I planned to have 4 of either, mind you.

But I have to confess that my teens are so funny -- sometimes inadvertently -- and generally a joy.

Just a few of the recent conversations around here. Only one will identify WHICH teen it was:

Me, after clearing off a week's worth of clutter and mess off of my kitchen island: (HUGE sigh and exclamation) "OH! I feel SO! much better!!
Boy Teen: "Because you cleaned, or did you fart?"

***************************
After some outdoor stuff:
Me: "I can't believe I drank 2 liters of water and I am still this thirsty. My throat is completely dry."
Teen: "Yeah, but you talk a lot."

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11 a.m.
Teen with one eye open, still in bed: "I AM up!"
Me: "That's not UP-- you're horizontal!"
Teen: "I'm planking..."

Love those guys.. Every day is a new day.

A Waiting Place Filled With Teen Crazies

I keep trying (not very hard) to get back over here... and I just keep doing other things.

My goal for the last couple of weeks has been to consistently get back into the word and eat better. Evidently I can only accomplish 2 things at a time, because I am unable to blog on top of it. I am getting some writing done and wrote about "Choosing Joy" when life wasn't aligning for me to do such.

I am behind and owe that ministry an article. My next article will be where my family is -- this waiting for the inevitable: beginning of school and band camp, settling in at church, etc. We are unpacked... but when people from the former town ask "are you settled??" with very hopeful eyes, what do I say? Well, no, we aren't settled. It's summer and we have stared at ourselves, a movie screen, and a big fat TV screen until we are all sick of each other. We workout and have push up challenges. We have precious dinner conversations. But settled in this town? We may as well be on Mars.

Of course, it's awesome that we live where Troy works 'cause, you know, we did it the other way and that totally stunk, too. We are just still in this "waiting place" -- just a different waiting place than before -- now waiting for a scary first day, hard time, obstacle to get over.Band camp starts soon for the high schooler, followed by orientation for the middle schooler. I, personally, am SO! READY! for these things to happen. Tensions are running a little high here at the house. We are all a little ready to see what it will be like and get it over with.

Not one prayer would be wasted on my family. You and I KNOW "it will be fine" when it all comes out in the wash -- it's these few weeks/ months of WAITING for it to "come out in the wash" that have tension/ anxiety mounting and teen crazies going crazier.

You know you're jealous of the teen crazies. Those are some good times, y'all...

Until next time, just trying to get settled... in front of a screen. SO! Tell me -- what are YOU up to this summer? Doing something fun?

You're Doing It Wrong

originally in Abilene Families

A figure emerges, the cheery yellow raincoat and frilly pink umbrella a startling contrast to the blinding downpour surrounding her. She steps up to the car, motioning for the driver to roll down the window. In a drippy sweet voice she exclaims, “Hi, Jack. I’m Annette. You’re doing it wrong.”

So goes my favorite line from the movie “Mr. Mom,” that showcases Michael Keaton portraying an unemployed father of three managing the household as his wife, played by Teri Garr, rejoins corporate America. As this particular scene unfolds, he is unsuccessfully trying to navigate school drop off. Hence, Annette’s chiding:

“You’re doing it wrong!”

While the tone Annette used was so kind, there was no getting around the fact that Jack was going about drop off wrong and must be corrected. Annette was simply doing her job as cross walk guard duty.

Frequently in the course of a day, those words ring in my head:

“You’re doing it wrong!”

Generally it is about parenting. Lately I have noticed that most of my “doing it wrong” seems to be about the first-born child. Since many of our mistakes as parents occur with the first-born child, I have decided we should all agree to call first-borns the beta child.

Just as computer developers will come out with a program that they want you to try so that any bugs or glitches can be discovered and call it a “beta” version, I think we should call the first-borns the beta child.

The difference is that the child isn’t full of bugs and glitches, it’s the parents.

From diapers (disposable? cloth? Genie? service?) to pacifiers to when to call the pediatrician to... well, there are a million six opportunities to second-guess yourself and realize... you’re doing it wrong.
Mistakes are going to happen. That is why the good Lord provides us with erasers and Band-Aids. I just hate for my first-born that all of my parenting mistakes seem to pile up on that child so that I can realize, “Wow. That did not turn out the way I thought it would. I will do so much better with my next kid when we get to this stage.”

Thankfully, the beta child seems to have thrived as we parents have floundered. A responsible, observant, kind-hearted, young adult, first-born is a leader in most situations. Beta child also doesn’t mind leading child 2.0 through all the minefields mom and dad seemed to find.

As first born moves into being a young adult, the weight of these decisions move ever so slightly off of my shoulders and land more onto beta child’s hard drive. As we wade into high school and help first-born navigate AP versus regular versus dual credit classes, driver education choices, extra-curricular decisions, testing decisions, post-high school decisions... we realize every decision seems to be a stack of dominos that may set off a really cool display of artistry, or may simply make a jumbled heap of dominos.

But these decisions are less mine to make than they are now beta child’s. Thankfully first-born still values my input and wants to hear what I have to say, but ultimately the decision is with the child that will live with the decision. Beta child has had to live with plenty of my mistakes and knows that mistakes are survivable, possibly even character building. Live, learn, move on.

And, never, not once, will I approach and say, “Hi, hon. It’s mom. You’re doing it wrong.”

Helpful Tip Re: Dishwashers

You know, I try to stick to just being encouraging us on our daily walk around here, but I came across something last weekend that I have to share. And if clean dishes don't get you closer to Jesus, I don't know what will...

So. I read this VERY helpful blog post. Actually, the post itself was simply a "Ask the Reader" question: have you found that your dishes aren't getting clean in the dishwasher, too? She did mention that due to new regulations, dishwasher detergents no longer have phosphates. Well, evidently phosphates are what get your dishes clean because now I unload cloudy dishes (okay -- truth is my kids unload cloudy dishes) from the dishwasher. We have tried the citric acid, rinse aid, blah, blah, blah.

Oh, and the ONE stinkin' thing that ever got my dishes a little bit clean was those capsule things. Which, of course, dishwasher repair guy (when we called and said, "These dishes are FILTHY!") says, "You really shouldn't use the capsule things. Seems they don't REALLY dissolve all the way and you have residue and what-not and perhaps an even BIGGER repair bill. Like we need that.

So if you don't want to read all 60-odd comments on the helpful post, the most common one was to simply put 1/2 c. to 1 c. vinegar in the bottom of your dishwasher as you start it. We have tried it once -- I had no idea I would ever see glasses that clean again. I am simply astonished.

I am only a blogger, I am not an appliance repair person, and I will not pay for any damages to your appliances incurred should any happen. But... c'mon. It's vinegar. If you're eating/ drinking out of cloudy glasses and dishes, can it really hurt to try? I think not. We are a little bit giddy with our almost new glasses over here!

Do you have any other great household tips for me? Would love to hear!

Marriage Monday: Steal a Kiss Now and Then!

Last week on Facebook I posted that I was behind a young couple in a car that stole a kiss when we stopped at a stoplight. It made me laugh so much. I remember the days.

What I actually put on Facebook was that I remember one particular time that Troy and I -- we were discussing that it was our TWO MONTH wedding anniversary! Whew! Where had the time gone??? We stopped at a red light, I stole a kiss, then looked up to see a lady from church and her elementary daughter in the car in front of us thoroughly enjoying the show.

It also made me long to live in the same town as my husband again. Remember how I posted that the little annoying things aren't so annoying when you only live together 36 hours a week? Well, you also try to fall in love again like you did 18-20 years ago.

Resolve to hold hands a little more. Kiss at stoplights a little more. Make out in the kitchen. My daughter will tell you we already do this far too much for her liking. She told me that she has a friend that covers her eyes when the parents kiss each other -- just a peck. Ashley told friend, "That's nothing. You should see what my parents do in the kitchen." Making it sound as if we were doing this:

When in reality it's more like this:

I'm totally cracking myself up with the pictures.

Of course there is so much more to a marriage than these things, but I think back to 20 years ago when I physically NEEDED him next to me at all times. So much that I would sit through that blowing up movie... Now, I just bring a book to the blowing up movie. We're both happy.

Take a little extra time to smooch your sweetie. When he's headed to work. When he comes home from work. As you tuck in at night. While the spaghetti is boiling. And... at stop lights.

Communication is Very Fragile

This is a phrase I heard at least a bajillion times -- give or take a million -- as a senior in high school. I went to a Christian high school and had Bible every year as an academic class. My senior year the entire class was about marriage. We had many different topics and assignments, but this phrase stands out more than any other: "Communication is very fragile."

Think about it. The WAY you say something can change an entire meaning. "Thanks a lot!" said sincerely with a smile invokes warm fuzzies. "Thanks a lot!" with an eye roll and sneer shows you honestly didn't appreciate my input at that moment.

You may have heard me say I struggle with migraines. Obviously, in the middle of a horrible migraine, not only do I not think very clearly, I don't express myself well. I try not to make any big decisions or business decisions, but when migraines start piling up, sometimes life has to carry on no matter what.

Last night we had a laughable miscommunication. When you have one party with a migraine and the other party happens to be a 13 year old boy, chances are good that communication will break down at some point. I made myself some dinner then crawled back to my bed. Trying to tell Riley to put my leftovers in the refrigerator, he evidently heard "throw them away" (it's a long story, but something was to be thrown away, too... just not my dinner). Communication is very fragile.

Things like this happen so frequently in relationships: marriages and/ or friendships alike. I'm still grieving a friendship to someone who understood me to mean one thing at one point when I meant something entirely different -- and let it go almost a year before I finally asked what the problem in our relationship was. At that point, a few more things had built up, and the relationship is beyond repair at this point. Communication is very fragile.

Ask. Clarify. What I usually say to Riley, when I don't feel as if my head is about to roll off my shoulders is, "Tell me what you understand you are to do." Then he will repeat to me what he thinks his task is (throw my food away) and we can clear things up then. I am thankful when people believe that our relationship is worth the asking and clarifying.

Very early in our marriage, leaving the house on a Christmas morning, I was complaining that the only pictures one ever takes of me was on Christmas and my hair was stupid that day. The way I worded made it sound (to Troy) like I thought he was being an insensitive oaf at the moment. Communication is very fragile. And I was so thankful he said something!

Oh -- and texting and emailing: throws a whole level of potential snafoos into communication! Ask and clarify. Ask and clarify. Communication is very fragile.

Relationships that are worth investing in don't just happen along. If you have any in your life: friendships, family, or a marriage, don't let a miscommunication trash it. Ask and clarify.

I Have Seen The Clutter Monster, And It Is Me

originally in Abilene Families

Just as every home has a monster in the dryer that eats the socks, my family has a clutter multiplying monster. Maybe it’s the same monster, because dirty socks seem to show up in the mix quite frequently.

I am amazed at how a candy wrapper that falls to the floor can suddenly grow a companion pair of dirty socks. Soon a dirty dish and glass will join the mess as if the harmony of the clutter beckoned them. Left alone for more than a few hours, yesterday’s paper finds its way to the party.

Before the sun has set, an episode of “Hoarders” is being filmed in my living room.

I take full responsibility for allowing the clutter multiplying monster to have his way with my home. I can be absorbed in something -- writing this column in my head, perhaps -- and can step over and around and through clutter and never see it... until the doorbell rings. Then I break a sweat and start yelling for the kids to pick up all of that junk that I never saw until that minute... like my shoes, my purse, and my laptop.

We have a dog, which brings a whole new level of clutter into the home. She is too old for the little toys and bones that used to get littered about the floor, just waiting for a bare foot to find the soggy material on a midnight trip to the bathroom.

Now she simply reclines about my house depositing her hair all over the house. If I get to come back as an animal in the afterlife, I want to be her.

I simply don’t understand how one animal can leave so much hair all over my house and still have any left on her body. We don’t have dust bunnies at our house. We have dust puppies, many of them resembling Chewbacca from Star Wars. It’s a constant battle to eradicate those little creatures before they form their own nation, demanding representation in the UN.

Then there is my purse. I really shouldn’t be trusted to carry a purse, but I’ve never lost a child permanently so they let me have one. ‘Cause, you know, heaven knows I don’t have enough clutter lying around my house. Now I need some to sling over my shoulder and tote with me in case I am ever without.

Receipts, stray gum and breath mints, broken pens and gum wrappers are all normal clutter for a purse, but there is the kid clutter, depending on the age of the child. It could be a lint covered pacifier, a baggie of crushed goldfish crackers, a superhero action figure (minus an arm, making it not-so-super), or happy meal toys.

There might be movie ticket stubs, the stub to a football game where the child caught a touchdown pass, rubber bands for braces the child no longer has, a program from a band concert, a taekwondo belt, glasses missing a lens, a mouthpiece for an instrument, a broken earring (possibly my own, but likely not), medications dating back to the Reagan presidency, and a collection of hair accessories.

I drag my purse clutter-container to my car, yet another haven for clutter in my life. At least this is a portable clutter. One must be prepared for everything and have chairs and blankets for the soccer field in the trunk and a tissue box floating in the car.

How quickly the clutter multiplying monster grows those few items into a pile of jackets, floating straw wrappers, and stacks of school papers crammed between seats. I do enjoy a good West Texas car clean out: open doors on either side and let everything blow out. Frowned upon by the pollution police, of course, but where were they when we were all drowning in pollution inside my own vehicle?

I would love to say that this clutter comes with the youth in my house and will be gone in a vapor just like the wet footprints down the hall after the shower. Sadly, I am aware that much of the clutter is mine from simply not paying attention to what piles up. It has occurred to me that perhaps I just may be the Clutter Multiplying Monster.