"Life among academics had taught me that a well-expressed opinion is usually better than a badly expressed fact, so far as professional advancement goes."
This quote is from my latest summer read: "Outlander". I'm not very far into it, and having a hard time getting into it, but I LOVED this quote! I think I have always felt this way myself. Forget professional advancement, I think people just listen to you if you can express yourself well whether or not you have a clue what you are talking about. Little known fact about me (among my Abilene friends): I interpreted for the deaf as a job in college, then as part of a ministry at church in Temple. I would occasionally teach sign language classes -- or more likely, co-teach with Debbie Riggs. On Sunday nights, we would have our students get up and sign some songs or part of the announcements. I always told them, "Be wrong with confidence!" There weren't any deaf people that came on Sunday nights, and the only way the people watching you would know whether or not you made a mistake was by the look on your face! I'm not sure where that may or may not apply to real life, but I do believe that if you simply look like you know what you're doing, people will pay attention!
Summer is getting off to a halting start for us -- baseball camp, dentist appointments, and rainy days. Not quite what we had in mind. Riley is loving baseball camp, and Ashley is cavity-free! :-)
I'll keep you posted on my summer reading. Thanks for all of the ideas on books to read -- I'm keeping a list! Keep 'em coming!
Tuesday
Sunday
Summer Reading. . .
I polled some friends, did some of my own research and have officially started on my 'summer reading list'. I have already finished two that were recommended to me by some of the 'coffee gals'.
"The Lovely Bones" by Alice Sebold. Begins with the murder of a 14-year old girl -- then told from her perspective in 'her heaven' as she watches her family deal with the grief and horror of it. A page turner, and you can't put it down, but VERY dark. Just real people dealing with real horror.
"gods in Alabama" by Joshilyn Jackson. It DOES have a great first line, Denise (my friend from Alabama that recommended it to me), but if I put it here, my own filter will keep me from reading my blog! :-) I'll try this: "There are gods in Alabama: Jack Daniel's, high school quarterbacks, trucks, big t*ts, and also Jesus." Good book -- after reading "The Lovely Bones" it was still a bit dark for me. Great ending. More real people and real families.
I can't decide what to start on next -- Tammy is telling me I MUST read the Harry Potter series (I've now officially read 3 pages -- not bad -- but Riley keeps taking it from me). I started in on a book by Carol Higgins Clark - Mary's daughter. Bad, bad, very bad. I've got "The Outlander" that Denise told me about -- some sort of time traveling, bodice busting book she told me about! :-)
So, tell me what you would read this summer if you were going to spend big chunks of time around the pool? And, if you need a book to read, I still say that Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum series is HYSTERICAL (they all have numbers in the title -- start w/ 'One for the Money'). Just so much fun.
"The Lovely Bones" by Alice Sebold. Begins with the murder of a 14-year old girl -- then told from her perspective in 'her heaven' as she watches her family deal with the grief and horror of it. A page turner, and you can't put it down, but VERY dark. Just real people dealing with real horror.
"gods in Alabama" by Joshilyn Jackson. It DOES have a great first line, Denise (my friend from Alabama that recommended it to me), but if I put it here, my own filter will keep me from reading my blog! :-) I'll try this: "There are gods in Alabama: Jack Daniel's, high school quarterbacks, trucks, big t*ts, and also Jesus." Good book -- after reading "The Lovely Bones" it was still a bit dark for me. Great ending. More real people and real families.
I can't decide what to start on next -- Tammy is telling me I MUST read the Harry Potter series (I've now officially read 3 pages -- not bad -- but Riley keeps taking it from me). I started in on a book by Carol Higgins Clark - Mary's daughter. Bad, bad, very bad. I've got "The Outlander" that Denise told me about -- some sort of time traveling, bodice busting book she told me about! :-)
So, tell me what you would read this summer if you were going to spend big chunks of time around the pool? And, if you need a book to read, I still say that Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum series is HYSTERICAL (they all have numbers in the title -- start w/ 'One for the Money'). Just so much fun.
Friday
Too cute not to share
As I've mentioned, Jack, my friend, Tammy's son, had a brain tumor removed this week. I've been trying to keep up with his recovery. Here is a note from Tammy yesterday:
Today has not been easy for Jack. He is hurting, and not talking yet. I know that he knows what's going on around him, but that swollen tongue is keeping him from eating, drinking, talking and laughing. I hope that the swelling will decrease soon. He had his mri today, no results yet. He couldn't eat, so they put a line down his nose into his stomach and fed him pediasure, he didn't tolerate it, so they have gone ahead and started giving him iv food again. It has been so hard watching him hurt and not be able to help. I thank God for the last hour we have had, because Elaine and I started singing children's worship songs to him, after we sang one, we didn't know if we were hurting his ears or if he liked it, so we said give us the thumbs up sign if you want another song. His thumbs immediately began wiggling. So we sang, and we sang, and ....when we got to This Little Light Of Mine, he must have liked it, because we got to "all around the neighborhood I am going to let it shine" both of his arms that have splint like things on them with tubes everywhere and wires everywhere, shot up and started circling with the song. Both Elaine and I looked at him, and tears started flowing. It was like his first step. We were so excited. So we sang and sang some more. Every time we were trying to decide what to sing, he would lift his arms and start circling. So we would start this little light again. I think he likes that one best because even though his eyes are closed and he can't move alot, he can move his arms, so he feels like he is participating in the song. Praise God for that glimpse of a light at the end of the tunnel.
Is that the most precious imagery you can imagine? Poor little pathetic brain surgery patient needing to let his light shine! I love it!
Today has not been easy for Jack. He is hurting, and not talking yet. I know that he knows what's going on around him, but that swollen tongue is keeping him from eating, drinking, talking and laughing. I hope that the swelling will decrease soon. He had his mri today, no results yet. He couldn't eat, so they put a line down his nose into his stomach and fed him pediasure, he didn't tolerate it, so they have gone ahead and started giving him iv food again. It has been so hard watching him hurt and not be able to help. I thank God for the last hour we have had, because Elaine and I started singing children's worship songs to him, after we sang one, we didn't know if we were hurting his ears or if he liked it, so we said give us the thumbs up sign if you want another song. His thumbs immediately began wiggling. So we sang, and we sang, and ....when we got to This Little Light Of Mine, he must have liked it, because we got to "all around the neighborhood I am going to let it shine" both of his arms that have splint like things on them with tubes everywhere and wires everywhere, shot up and started circling with the song. Both Elaine and I looked at him, and tears started flowing. It was like his first step. We were so excited. So we sang and sang some more. Every time we were trying to decide what to sing, he would lift his arms and start circling. So we would start this little light again. I think he likes that one best because even though his eyes are closed and he can't move alot, he can move his arms, so he feels like he is participating in the song. Praise God for that glimpse of a light at the end of the tunnel.
Is that the most precious imagery you can imagine? Poor little pathetic brain surgery patient needing to let his light shine! I love it!
Wednesday
Jack's surgery
I can't imagine that you would be reading this and not be aware that I have created a blog for Jack Marcelain and his family here. Anyway, all of my time and energy have been spent keeping up with that -- and doing my best not to keel over from this cold or flu or whatever it is that has me in it's grips. So, I have not much to say or report, other than to say a prayer for Jack -- they take him back to prep him for surgery in about an hour. They will have to shave his head, I'm sure. I hope they sedate little guys for that. I would imagine that's very traumatic. What am I talking about? -- It freaked out a grown woman on 'Amazing Race' last week. When I get this breathing thing down, I'll try to get back to blogging!
Monday
Prayers for Jack
It's Monday afternoon, April 25. I've been in my green recliner most of the last 2 days with a head cold. I've improved from knowing that death would feel so much better to simply having all of my head and brain cells drip out of my nose in a constant flow.
Jack, 5 year old son of my friend Tammy, had an MRI this morning. Last week -- Thursday, actually -- she and another friend and I were at lunch and Tammy mentioned that one of Jack's eyes had started to turn in on occasion. So she was thinking that she should probably call the Dr. about it. He had also recently started wearing glasses, and thought that may be the problem. So, by Friday morning he had an appt. for an MRI at 8:15 Monday morning. That concerned me -- b/c it sounded as if the medical people were concerned.
I have very little clear information other than the scan revealed a 'fairly large tumor' and the Dr. sent them immediately to the emergency room of Children's Medical Center in Dallas. They are on their way there now, I guess. I feel absolutely, completely helpless. Tammy has a photography business that is quite busy right now with Senior portraits and brides. I wish I could help her with that. Jack has a twin sister, Sophie, and an older brother, DJ -- that are 2 of the most precious children I know (along with Jack). Just wish I could do something. Currently, all of the information is too new and there would be too many people swarming Tammy and Rob. So I will pray.
Let me tell you about Jack. You just have to laugh when you see him. Partly because he is ALL boy. Precious sandy blond with enormous blue eyes that you can almost see right through. Not quite Dennis the Menace, but close. He has a bit of a listhp and can't say his 'r's real well, and his greatest joy in life is making people laugh. Tammy always has a funny Jack story for us. He's all about the sacrifice -- if it makes you laugh for him to throw his body against the wall and bounce off of it and slam to the floor -- that's what he will do, time and again. Jack is 6, and so sweet. God will use him for great things one day. I don't want it to be now. Other than to show God's healing power.
Oh, Father, my brain that is in a fog from the cold hardly knows what to pray in this situation. 'Tumor' is about the scariest word in the English language -- put it with 'brain'-- well, we're just all so scared for Jack. Lord, I pray for a great diagnosis from this. Lord, please display your healing power through Jack. I know that Rob and Tammy will give you the glory no matter what the outcome, but I pray that you be glorified through Jack's healing. Give Rob and Tammy peace.
Much later -- I have been to the Abilene airport, where some precious Abilene people chartered a plane to take the Marcelain's to Dallas. What a blessing. We got to see them, hug them, cry with them, and pray with them. As my friend Karene says, "This is what makes friendships." Being there when we're needed. But, YIKES! Who wants this?
Anyway, I feel better just having seen them. I think I'll start a blog for Jack! Wonder if I can. . .
Jack, 5 year old son of my friend Tammy, had an MRI this morning. Last week -- Thursday, actually -- she and another friend and I were at lunch and Tammy mentioned that one of Jack's eyes had started to turn in on occasion. So she was thinking that she should probably call the Dr. about it. He had also recently started wearing glasses, and thought that may be the problem. So, by Friday morning he had an appt. for an MRI at 8:15 Monday morning. That concerned me -- b/c it sounded as if the medical people were concerned.
I have very little clear information other than the scan revealed a 'fairly large tumor' and the Dr. sent them immediately to the emergency room of Children's Medical Center in Dallas. They are on their way there now, I guess. I feel absolutely, completely helpless. Tammy has a photography business that is quite busy right now with Senior portraits and brides. I wish I could help her with that. Jack has a twin sister, Sophie, and an older brother, DJ -- that are 2 of the most precious children I know (along with Jack). Just wish I could do something. Currently, all of the information is too new and there would be too many people swarming Tammy and Rob. So I will pray.
Let me tell you about Jack. You just have to laugh when you see him. Partly because he is ALL boy. Precious sandy blond with enormous blue eyes that you can almost see right through. Not quite Dennis the Menace, but close. He has a bit of a listhp and can't say his 'r's real well, and his greatest joy in life is making people laugh. Tammy always has a funny Jack story for us. He's all about the sacrifice -- if it makes you laugh for him to throw his body against the wall and bounce off of it and slam to the floor -- that's what he will do, time and again. Jack is 6, and so sweet. God will use him for great things one day. I don't want it to be now. Other than to show God's healing power.
Oh, Father, my brain that is in a fog from the cold hardly knows what to pray in this situation. 'Tumor' is about the scariest word in the English language -- put it with 'brain'-- well, we're just all so scared for Jack. Lord, I pray for a great diagnosis from this. Lord, please display your healing power through Jack. I know that Rob and Tammy will give you the glory no matter what the outcome, but I pray that you be glorified through Jack's healing. Give Rob and Tammy peace.
Much later -- I have been to the Abilene airport, where some precious Abilene people chartered a plane to take the Marcelain's to Dallas. What a blessing. We got to see them, hug them, cry with them, and pray with them. As my friend Karene says, "This is what makes friendships." Being there when we're needed. But, YIKES! Who wants this?
Anyway, I feel better just having seen them. I think I'll start a blog for Jack! Wonder if I can. . .
Thursday
The Master Gardener
I have a very Darwinian view of yardwork: it's survival of the fittest from the moment any plant makes it's home on my property. I have learned that once plants take root in my yard, you can't kill them if you try. I have a geranium that has survived several snowstorms and is blooming to tell about it. The lantana in my front flowerbed should be featured in some horror movie about plants taking over a dwelling.
For a very few days to weeks in the spring I get inspired to try to do something with the flower beds. Perhaps it's the nasty looks I keep getting from my next-door neighbors whose yard is professionally landscaped. Perhaps it's the fact that it's the very brief window of time between too cold and too hot. Perhaps it's year-long guilt over the neglect that has built up. At any rate, now is the time. I'm digging in to the front flower bed.
Last year I did even less gardening than usual. Stressors continued to interrupt our spring and summer and I could barely weed the mess out of my personal life, much less the weeds in my yard. I knew they would be there when I was ready. Now that I'm finally ready, the weeds are definitely there. I have finally gotten enough weeds out to find the lantana. As I continued to weed and prune today, I muttered to myself, "What an unholy mess."
At first glance, it's hard to tell which is plant and and which is weed. Then there is a thicket of dead shoots intermingled all through the live shoots. Unholy mess indeed. I would NEVER dream to compare my gardening skills to the work the Lord does in our lives, but I realized that without a gardener we become, truly, an unholy mess. The difference in our lives and my poor lantana is that we can invite The Gardener into our lives and submit to the weeding and pruning that result in a healthy, thriving life. Or we can be left to our own devices and end up a tangle of weeds, dead shoots, and anemic leaves.
Father, thank you for weeding out the mess. Thank you for loving us more than I love those poor plants in my front yard. Thank you for tending us, nurturing us, and seeing the beautiful flower we can become with your pruning, when we only see the dead shoots and weeds we have brought upon ourselves.
For a very few days to weeks in the spring I get inspired to try to do something with the flower beds. Perhaps it's the nasty looks I keep getting from my next-door neighbors whose yard is professionally landscaped. Perhaps it's the fact that it's the very brief window of time between too cold and too hot. Perhaps it's year-long guilt over the neglect that has built up. At any rate, now is the time. I'm digging in to the front flower bed.
Last year I did even less gardening than usual. Stressors continued to interrupt our spring and summer and I could barely weed the mess out of my personal life, much less the weeds in my yard. I knew they would be there when I was ready. Now that I'm finally ready, the weeds are definitely there. I have finally gotten enough weeds out to find the lantana. As I continued to weed and prune today, I muttered to myself, "What an unholy mess."
At first glance, it's hard to tell which is plant and and which is weed. Then there is a thicket of dead shoots intermingled all through the live shoots. Unholy mess indeed. I would NEVER dream to compare my gardening skills to the work the Lord does in our lives, but I realized that without a gardener we become, truly, an unholy mess. The difference in our lives and my poor lantana is that we can invite The Gardener into our lives and submit to the weeding and pruning that result in a healthy, thriving life. Or we can be left to our own devices and end up a tangle of weeds, dead shoots, and anemic leaves.
Father, thank you for weeding out the mess. Thank you for loving us more than I love those poor plants in my front yard. Thank you for tending us, nurturing us, and seeing the beautiful flower we can become with your pruning, when we only see the dead shoots and weeds we have brought upon ourselves.
Monday
Guilty! (of being a mother!)
Yukky day today -- weather wise, work wise, life wise. So I come home and promptly make my children work in their rooms. One would think that would be a bad choice at the end of a frustrating day -- but it was okay. We set the timer for 15 minutes, make a give away, throw away, and put away pile. When timer goes off, we're done and put away the put away pile! And I discovered something -- when my kids yell, "I have no __________ (undies, socks, shorts, shirts)" what they are actually saying is "The last time I put my clothes away I put my underthings heaven-knows-where and now I need you to magically produce some for me." I found no fewer than _20_ pair of undies in one child's dresser -- but only 3 in the undie drawer. The other 17 were evenly dispersed between the P.J. drawer and the t-shirt drawer. Of course they were. So, I weeded out the 7 that are 2 sizes too small and left said little person with _13_ pair of clean undies! The part that really frustrated me is realizing how that yell, "I'm out of _____________ (whatever)" automatically puts a knife to my heart that I am not doing my job as a mother. No, it's not my job to get them to the right place (you can try to convince me, but you won't). But I do believe it's my job to get them clean and in the 'put away' place (we call them 'laundry cubbies' at our house!). WHAT is this guilt that God gives to women as soon as they have a dependent to claim? And it may be different at your house -- but Troy does not suffer guilt in any form as a parent. Let their little faces crumple. Tell them we'll get a sno-cone and then say 'not tonight.' Whatever. The man at this house does not come with the guilt gene. It certainly makes for a good balance -- and he's far more apt to stick to his ruling of the consequences even when their little faces do crumple and their tears make mud on their faces. If any 'seasoned' mothers (boy, I just can't make it not sound like I'm saying OLD) could tell me when, if ever, this constant guilt leaves me, it would help.
My temporary job ends this week. I cannot tell you how glad I am. I will probably try to, though! Thursday I'm going to lunch with friends and Friday I may take the kids lunch at their school. Next week I have a hair appointment and I go to the zoo with first grade. THAT is more like it to me! I refuse to get caught in any heated discussion about stay-at-home vs. work outside the home moms. I know this for my family: a)I do not feel called at this time to any occupation that requires me to work 40+ hours a week and b)at this time our family has the luxury of me not needing to do that. I am thankful to finally be at peace that I am doing exactly what I need to be doing for this moment in time. And, just as I get a little too comfy in my spot, God has the tendency to say, "Surprise!" I'm hangin' on for the ride!
My temporary job ends this week. I cannot tell you how glad I am. I will probably try to, though! Thursday I'm going to lunch with friends and Friday I may take the kids lunch at their school. Next week I have a hair appointment and I go to the zoo with first grade. THAT is more like it to me! I refuse to get caught in any heated discussion about stay-at-home vs. work outside the home moms. I know this for my family: a)I do not feel called at this time to any occupation that requires me to work 40+ hours a week and b)at this time our family has the luxury of me not needing to do that. I am thankful to finally be at peace that I am doing exactly what I need to be doing for this moment in time. And, just as I get a little too comfy in my spot, God has the tendency to say, "Surprise!" I'm hangin' on for the ride!
Friday
Back in Blogger Land
I'm sure I'm writing to the walls of cyber-land. It's been too long since I've been here! But my job is winding down and I can hopefully get back to the land of writing/blogging/basically boring you with my life! I am supposed to be hurtling down HWY 290 towards the National NRA convention in Houston, Texas. And God said, "Ha!" Obviously, the National NRA Convention is far more my husband's cup 'o tea than mine, but I was looking forward to Pappasito's and time to talk to my husband without a "Mo-o-o-o-m" interruption. Riley has a ball game tomorrow and Ashley is going to the metropolis of Monahans, Texas, to compete in Bible Bowl. I had the whole system DOWN -- people to get my children where they needed to be, money for their trips, medical release forms, the whole 9 yards. But it didn't feel right. Children aren't meant to be juggled so fervently -- even if they're generally good-natured kids and will tolerate it fairly well. So Riley woke me up at 5:30 this morning telling me he had thrown up -- that's it. No major nausea drama (which we usually get 30 minutes prior to the Big Event). So, he parked in front of the TV and I launched into the laundry that comes with such episodes. Nothing else has happened all day -- just that we have cancelled our trip. I'm so thankful for God's guidance -- I feel very much at peace that I am right where I should be, taking care of my punkin's. Don't get me wrong -- moms and dads need get-away time, and THIS mom especially needs Pappasito's (about like a hole in the head!) -- but we just had too much going on to leave this fine-tuned machine of this family to amateurs! (My apologies if you were one of the kind volunteers who was willing to take us on! :-) Long ago, a couple I look up to immensely mentioned that they had learned the hard way that if nothing was falling into place for a trip or even a date night for them, then they should stay home. That has stuck with me! I'm sorry that God had to make my little one ill to make me take notice of the gentle prodding He was giving me, but I'm so thankful I have learned to listen!
Wednesday
Wednesday, March 29
Today has been a day of blessings for me. Most days are, quite honestly, and I miss it. So I'm thankful for the opportunity to pause and remind myself of them. Today I am copyrighted!! I don't know if that's actually true, but I have an article published at http://www.heartlight.org/articles/200503/20050330_batterup.html I am so thankful! The best part about it is the people that have made comments to me from around the world: Danny from Singapore, Becky from Celina, TX, Sharon from Alabama, and Vicki from North Carolina have all touched me and blessed me in ways they will never know. How fabulous is that? I have no idea what the sign on their church says where they go to worship and I have no idea the color of their skin, but they are each my brother or sister in Christ. Isn't family in Christ so wonderful? I have always prayed to bless others with the words I write or speak, (1 Peter 4:10, 11 -- YIKES) but I have been blessed ten-fold by the people that have responded to me. My blessings abound and I currently am listening to my children shout and squeal while playing in the hose -- it's almost 80* and it's supposed to be 38* in the morning. I need a scientist and/ or pediatrician to tell me why playing with water always involves shouting -- it's just never a quiet activity. But that reminds me of another host of blessings that I have in precious, healthy children. I have no time to list them here, but I will 'count my blessings one by one' while I fold clothes!
Tuesday
Blah, blah, blog
Okay, I'm seein' all these other blogs blow me away. I originally started my blog as a place to post my 'polished' writing (if that is not your opinion of the previous posts, please keep it to yourself!) but have recently seen how much fun a thread of someone's thoughts may be. I will TRY to keep up with 'News of the Stirmans' here, but the main news (for me, anyway) is that I am currently working full time until April 20th. Which means that I have exactly 5 minutes of 'blog post time' before I have to do the before bed, hour-long sprint of making lunches, picking out clothes, packing backpacks, signing folders, and gathering laundry so that I may go to bed early so that I may rise early -- neither healthy, wealthy, nor wise, but exhausted and stressed out at the prospect of doing the same thing all over again. Oh, and somewhere in there I have to see who gets disqualified from "The Amazing Race". And in the 3 minutes since I have been typing, Ashley has been giving a running narration while packing her lunch of exactly how many items in the refrigerator are furry and how we have no fruit to speak of. If you are a full-time working mother -- my hat's off to you and you can try twelve ways to explain to me how you do it, I will still never know.
Well, there it is -- my 5 minutes is up! Maybe in my tomorrow's 5 minutes I can tell you about Riley's baseball or latest quip, or Ashley's Bible bowl or basketball. Until next time, be blessed.
Well, there it is -- my 5 minutes is up! Maybe in my tomorrow's 5 minutes I can tell you about Riley's baseball or latest quip, or Ashley's Bible bowl or basketball. Until next time, be blessed.
Wednesday
Take Me Out to the Ballgame
I hate baseball. There you have it. Just as my delay in seeing "The Passion of the Christ" calls my citizenship in heaven into question, I feel certain that my loathing of America’s past-time also calls my United States citizenship into question. But there it is – I hate baseball. So God, having the fabulous sense of humor I feel any loving Creator should have, sent me a son. A son who, in his 7th year, wants to play baseball more than anything. Soccer? Nope. Basketball? Nothin’ doin’. Baseball? Sign him up!
Sign him up we did. Now we’ve invested in cleats, hats, socks, belts, and numerous other items that seem to be essential for playing a game of baseball. Now I spend my evenings sitting in the not-yet-warm West Texas wind watching small children learn to "throw a string, not a rainbow". I figure in a one hour Little League game (and I think I’m being optimistic to assume it will only last an hour) the ball in motion and all subsequent action will total approximately 12 minutes of that game. My son’s part in the action may total about 4 minutes. Again, I believe myself to be an optimist.
I admit that my disdain has had to give way to minor dislike as I watch the enthusiasm that my son has for the sport. Minutes waiting for practice to begin (PRACTICE, mind you – we haven’t even had a game yet!) are painstaking agony. Minutes at practice fly by all too quickly. The little leaguer gushes with knowledge and excitement after each practice. Finally, last night I admit my heart thawed totally toward the sport. I commented, in all honesty, "Well, I’m really glad that you seem to like it." His response was nothing less than incredulous: "Like it?!?! Are you kidding?!?! It’s the best thing that ever happened to me!!!" Now, keep in mind that my son’s life is not necessarily fraught with hardship unless you count unloading the dishwasher and feeding the dog difficult manual labor. But if baseball is the best thing that ever happened to him, then buy me some peanuts and CrackerJacks, I don’t care if I never get back from the old ball game!
I have laughed to myself at how little it took to change my view of the game – simply the fact that it is the delight of one of the loves of my life. I believe that those of us blessed to be parents are given that task in order to get a tiny glimpse into God’s love for us. Lately I have been perplexed by the verse "Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart." (Psalm 37:4) What if the desire of my heart involves 6-pack abs and single digit clothing sizes? I have no hard and fast answers (nor hard abs) but I do know that this spring West Texas day was one of the best things that ever happened to me. And I do believe that it tickled God to no end for me to tell Him so. I also believe that as I continue to pour out my heart to God and know Him as the loving parent He is, the desires of my heart will more closely match His. Without a doubt, HE is the best thing that ever happened to me!
Batter up!
Sign him up we did. Now we’ve invested in cleats, hats, socks, belts, and numerous other items that seem to be essential for playing a game of baseball. Now I spend my evenings sitting in the not-yet-warm West Texas wind watching small children learn to "throw a string, not a rainbow". I figure in a one hour Little League game (and I think I’m being optimistic to assume it will only last an hour) the ball in motion and all subsequent action will total approximately 12 minutes of that game. My son’s part in the action may total about 4 minutes. Again, I believe myself to be an optimist.
I admit that my disdain has had to give way to minor dislike as I watch the enthusiasm that my son has for the sport. Minutes waiting for practice to begin (PRACTICE, mind you – we haven’t even had a game yet!) are painstaking agony. Minutes at practice fly by all too quickly. The little leaguer gushes with knowledge and excitement after each practice. Finally, last night I admit my heart thawed totally toward the sport. I commented, in all honesty, "Well, I’m really glad that you seem to like it." His response was nothing less than incredulous: "Like it?!?! Are you kidding?!?! It’s the best thing that ever happened to me!!!" Now, keep in mind that my son’s life is not necessarily fraught with hardship unless you count unloading the dishwasher and feeding the dog difficult manual labor. But if baseball is the best thing that ever happened to him, then buy me some peanuts and CrackerJacks, I don’t care if I never get back from the old ball game!
I have laughed to myself at how little it took to change my view of the game – simply the fact that it is the delight of one of the loves of my life. I believe that those of us blessed to be parents are given that task in order to get a tiny glimpse into God’s love for us. Lately I have been perplexed by the verse "Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart." (Psalm 37:4) What if the desire of my heart involves 6-pack abs and single digit clothing sizes? I have no hard and fast answers (nor hard abs) but I do know that this spring West Texas day was one of the best things that ever happened to me. And I do believe that it tickled God to no end for me to tell Him so. I also believe that as I continue to pour out my heart to God and know Him as the loving parent He is, the desires of my heart will more closely match His. Without a doubt, HE is the best thing that ever happened to me!
Batter up!
Tuesday
Bunco Night
I have a confession -- I make my entire family re-arrange their lives so that I can go to Bunco night, and I frequently dread going. I don't dis-like being there, but I dis-like turning over the supervision of dinner and clean-up, packing of lunches, baths that don't get taken when I'm not home to go have my 'lady time'. It rarely fails, however, that something at Bunco will make me laugh until I cry, then laugh again as I lay in bed trying to be quiet and let Troy sleep. Last night at Bunco I did just that. It was sorely needed! And, just for the record, there is a singing group entitled, "HoneyCrack". It's a group of gentlemen, and Troy questions their sexual orientation (which, actually, would explain a lot!) but their mere existence cracks me up!
Monday
A Mother Asks 'Why'
- Why is it my fault the Sonic coupons are missing?
- Why do I allow myself to feel guilty that my children are being deprived of more sugar and fat for the day?
- Why do they have to put their fingers on the computer screen to play on it? Are they aware that we do not have an interactive screen?
- Why must any venture outside include a tromp through the mud and a collection of grass clippings?
- Why (and since when) are all of my belongings community property? Will I ever get any of them back in the same condition that I last saw them?
- Why do small people who make me this insane also make me weak-kneed, goofy, in love with them?
Wednesday
The Father of Lies
John 8:44
"When (the devil) lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies."
He’s called the father of lies by the Son of the Most Holy. Lies are his entire modus operandi, his very native language. Why, then, do I even listen? Why do I give any weight at all to the constant barrage of lies Satan sends my way? Perhaps that’s part of it – there’s no end to the lies. Too often, Satan knows our insecurities, our weaknesses even better than we know ourselves.
"Your husband can’t possibly really love you – not when you look like you do (or keep house like you do, or cook like you do)." "You’re a horrible parent – your poor children don’t stand a chance coming from your household." "No way. The sins of your past are too awful, too horrible. What if everyone knew? God can never forgive you completely. You’re basically useless to His kingdom."
The lies start so small and innocuous, like a minor but constant drip. They come at me most often when my life is good; at times when I don’t feel the urgent need to cling to God for every breath as I do in times of crisis. I am not as well-armed to fend off the attack. As I absorb each lie, they continue to spiral and snowball until I am completely bowed down. I’m a weary soldier, marching to the cadence of an evil leader, a slave to the father of lies. It is then that I BECOME useless to the kingdom of heaven! Ooooh, isn’t Satan sneaky that way?
How can I possibly break free? How do I get out of this trap? That’s the glorious part! It’s as close as my Bible, and takes as long as it takes my knees to hit the floor! When I turn my face to Him, to know His glory, I know without a doubt I am loved completely by Him. I can claim the lies as the lies they are. In John 8:32, Jesus tells his disciples, "The truth will set you free." The good news continues in verse 36, "If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed." Hallelujah, and may I be free indeed!
David understood how the whole process works when he writes in Psalm 26:2 &3: "Test me, O Lord, and try me, examine my heart and my mind; for your love is ever before me, and I walk continually in your truth." David knew the freedom from sin that comes with walking in truth. He was also fully aware of how that can be accomplished. Walking continually in the truth. Satan is too consistent in his attacks for me not to be consistent in my defense against the attacks.
To me, the best news of all of this is found in James 4: 7 and 8. Not only do we learn that we, as heirs of the Father, have power over Satan ourselves, we learn the Creator of all of the universe will come to our aide and be by our side. The lies of the father of lies begin to lose their power as I turn to His glory.
James 4:7,8:
"Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come near to God, and He will come near to you."
"When (the devil) lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies."
He’s called the father of lies by the Son of the Most Holy. Lies are his entire modus operandi, his very native language. Why, then, do I even listen? Why do I give any weight at all to the constant barrage of lies Satan sends my way? Perhaps that’s part of it – there’s no end to the lies. Too often, Satan knows our insecurities, our weaknesses even better than we know ourselves.
"Your husband can’t possibly really love you – not when you look like you do (or keep house like you do, or cook like you do)." "You’re a horrible parent – your poor children don’t stand a chance coming from your household." "No way. The sins of your past are too awful, too horrible. What if everyone knew? God can never forgive you completely. You’re basically useless to His kingdom."
The lies start so small and innocuous, like a minor but constant drip. They come at me most often when my life is good; at times when I don’t feel the urgent need to cling to God for every breath as I do in times of crisis. I am not as well-armed to fend off the attack. As I absorb each lie, they continue to spiral and snowball until I am completely bowed down. I’m a weary soldier, marching to the cadence of an evil leader, a slave to the father of lies. It is then that I BECOME useless to the kingdom of heaven! Ooooh, isn’t Satan sneaky that way?
How can I possibly break free? How do I get out of this trap? That’s the glorious part! It’s as close as my Bible, and takes as long as it takes my knees to hit the floor! When I turn my face to Him, to know His glory, I know without a doubt I am loved completely by Him. I can claim the lies as the lies they are. In John 8:32, Jesus tells his disciples, "The truth will set you free." The good news continues in verse 36, "If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed." Hallelujah, and may I be free indeed!
David understood how the whole process works when he writes in Psalm 26:2 &3: "Test me, O Lord, and try me, examine my heart and my mind; for your love is ever before me, and I walk continually in your truth." David knew the freedom from sin that comes with walking in truth. He was also fully aware of how that can be accomplished. Walking continually in the truth. Satan is too consistent in his attacks for me not to be consistent in my defense against the attacks.
To me, the best news of all of this is found in James 4: 7 and 8. Not only do we learn that we, as heirs of the Father, have power over Satan ourselves, we learn the Creator of all of the universe will come to our aide and be by our side. The lies of the father of lies begin to lose their power as I turn to His glory.
James 4:7,8:
"Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come near to God, and He will come near to you."
Monday
Medals of Martyrdom
The political climate recently has been talking about medals earned in combat and whether they were deserved or not and who exactly decided a medal should be awarded. It has given me opportunity to stop and think about the medals that I award myself.
Almost three years ago our family moved to a new town. Six months later, our house flooded. Shortly after that, we were sued. Shortly after that, we learned my husband’s mother was terminally ill. Shortly after that – well, you get the idea. Let me just say that it has been almost five months since our last major crisis. I have learned not to breathe a sigh of relief, but to run for cover. I was never promised this life would be easy. Why, then, must I share my "medal of honor" for suffering and grief with all around me. I have learned that I want to award myself a "medal of martyrdom" to show people how strong I was while I was suffering and going through trials. The trials, large and small, begin to pile up like trash on your front porch. If you refuse to let them go, forgiving when necessary, grieving when necessary, then your porch will end up REALLY trashy.
Sometimes it’s difficult to let go of the bitterness of hardships and not want to show the world your trash, your battle scars. I find that frequently I want to wear my trials on my sleeve like a medal that shows what all I have survived. I am missing the blessings of my trials – the lessons I have learned about God’s faithfulness, the fellow warriors that God has sent me to pray me through, my children seeing their parents cry out to God on a regular basis –when I only want to tell people about how painful they were.
I also have learned that ‘forgiving and forgetting’ is a myth created by the world. Forgiveness isn’t. Absolutely not. Forgiveness of others is a natural by-product of loving them as God loves them and knowing how much God has forgiven me. But forgetting – doesn’t happen. God blesses us with those memories, but to use for His glory. Those memories, which can sometimes be painful enough to give you opportunity to forgive all over again, can be used to minister to others. That’s where I want to keep my ‘survivor medals’ – tucked away to be used as ministry opportunities arise.
As I find myself awarding myself those "medals of martyrdom" I am reminded again to clear the trash off my porch. God can do it. Sometimes it takes frequent prayers to forgive and love as He loves. But God will be faithful, as always, and we won’t have to rely on our self-awarded medals. We can wait for the crown He will award.
1 Peter 4:12-15,19
"Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed. If you are insulted because of the name of Christ, you are blessed, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests on you. If you suffer, it should not be as a murderer or thief or any other kind of criminal, or even as a meddler. . . .So then, those who suffer according to God’s will should commit themselves to their faithful Creator and continue to do good."
Almost three years ago our family moved to a new town. Six months later, our house flooded. Shortly after that, we were sued. Shortly after that, we learned my husband’s mother was terminally ill. Shortly after that – well, you get the idea. Let me just say that it has been almost five months since our last major crisis. I have learned not to breathe a sigh of relief, but to run for cover. I was never promised this life would be easy. Why, then, must I share my "medal of honor" for suffering and grief with all around me. I have learned that I want to award myself a "medal of martyrdom" to show people how strong I was while I was suffering and going through trials. The trials, large and small, begin to pile up like trash on your front porch. If you refuse to let them go, forgiving when necessary, grieving when necessary, then your porch will end up REALLY trashy.
Sometimes it’s difficult to let go of the bitterness of hardships and not want to show the world your trash, your battle scars. I find that frequently I want to wear my trials on my sleeve like a medal that shows what all I have survived. I am missing the blessings of my trials – the lessons I have learned about God’s faithfulness, the fellow warriors that God has sent me to pray me through, my children seeing their parents cry out to God on a regular basis –when I only want to tell people about how painful they were.
I also have learned that ‘forgiving and forgetting’ is a myth created by the world. Forgiveness isn’t. Absolutely not. Forgiveness of others is a natural by-product of loving them as God loves them and knowing how much God has forgiven me. But forgetting – doesn’t happen. God blesses us with those memories, but to use for His glory. Those memories, which can sometimes be painful enough to give you opportunity to forgive all over again, can be used to minister to others. That’s where I want to keep my ‘survivor medals’ – tucked away to be used as ministry opportunities arise.
As I find myself awarding myself those "medals of martyrdom" I am reminded again to clear the trash off my porch. God can do it. Sometimes it takes frequent prayers to forgive and love as He loves. But God will be faithful, as always, and we won’t have to rely on our self-awarded medals. We can wait for the crown He will award.
1 Peter 4:12-15,19
"Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed. If you are insulted because of the name of Christ, you are blessed, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests on you. If you suffer, it should not be as a murderer or thief or any other kind of criminal, or even as a meddler. . . .So then, those who suffer according to God’s will should commit themselves to their faithful Creator and continue to do good."
Wednesday
Aroma of Christ
When was the last time you were sniffed? By a human? Up until about a month ago, the answer for me would have had to have been never. But life brings new experiences daily and this particular day did not disappoint. Leaving a summer job of teaching swimming lessons with my two children, my errand list necessitated that we stop at a discount store that will remain nameless, but one that I loathe entering. One of my stops in the monstrosity of discount was the shoe department, where a very helpful lady helped me locate swim shoes so that I wouldn’t tear up my feet teaching swimming lessons. She very kindly led me to the swim shoes, showed me my selection, then turned to me and sniffed. Yes, she sniffed me. Two quick, polite whiffs. Her comment was, "Have you been at the pool?" Now, how do you answer that? And if she works in the shoe department, shouldn’t she be thankful to be smelling sunscreen and chlorine instead of feet?
2 Corinthians tells us that we are continually ‘sniffed’ in this world: "For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life." Me? The aroma of Christ? In my heart, I’m far more likely to be the aroma of sunscreen and chlorine, dinner cooking, or dirty laundry. But as I toss aside all of those things and make my way to the foot of the throne, I am less and He is more. My earthly aroma of selfishness, pride, and impatience is taken away as I let Him replace it with the sweet fragrance of Christ’s love.
The difficult task is to continually return to the throne. To be the aroma of Christ without daily (sometimes hourly) trips before His throne would work as well as being the aroma of clean without a daily shower.
My constant prayer is that I look less like me and more like Him. So, I suppose now I shall also pray to smell more like Him, too. After all, I would love for someone to sniff me and ask, "Have you been at His throne?"
2 Corinthians tells us that we are continually ‘sniffed’ in this world: "For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life." Me? The aroma of Christ? In my heart, I’m far more likely to be the aroma of sunscreen and chlorine, dinner cooking, or dirty laundry. But as I toss aside all of those things and make my way to the foot of the throne, I am less and He is more. My earthly aroma of selfishness, pride, and impatience is taken away as I let Him replace it with the sweet fragrance of Christ’s love.
The difficult task is to continually return to the throne. To be the aroma of Christ without daily (sometimes hourly) trips before His throne would work as well as being the aroma of clean without a daily shower.
My constant prayer is that I look less like me and more like Him. So, I suppose now I shall also pray to smell more like Him, too. After all, I would love for someone to sniff me and ask, "Have you been at His throne?"
What I Know About Migraine
Because my experience with migraine has led me to become somewhat of an expert on my own migraines, I wanted to share what I know here. Obviously, this is not medical advice, but I will tell you that I had to learn far more on my own than my doctor has been able to tell me. More than anything, if you are a migraine sufferer, I encourage you to do your own homework and research and discover your own solutions, rather than assume that a health care professional will do it for you.
Author Bucholz has, just as the title suggests, a 3-step program to virtually eliminating migraines. I am writing this only two weeks past my last migraine, but I am confident I am on the right track. You can find MANY books out there on migraines -- I bought another while I was at it -- and you will probably get conflicting advice. This one worked for me and made logical sense to me.
Most of the information that worked FOR ME I got from this book:
Author Bucholz has, just as the title suggests, a 3-step program to virtually eliminating migraines. I am writing this only two weeks past my last migraine, but I am confident I am on the right track. You can find MANY books out there on migraines -- I bought another while I was at it -- and you will probably get conflicting advice. This one worked for me and made logical sense to me.Step 1: Eliminate Quick Fixes.
This means (to me, especially) wean yourself off of all caffeine and all (can you believe it) prescription migraine pills. Did you know that prescription migraine pills have a rebounding effect, and can cause migraines? Lovely. I didn't know, and my doctor didn't tell me (he may not know, for that matter...). We all know that caffeine does that which is why we get headaches when we go too long without, etc. To eliminate caffeine headaches, Bucholz says it's okay to 'wean', but make it quick, 'lest you spend your life in a 'really, I'm drinking less today than yesterday, so I'm weaning' pattern. He says make it where you are completely off caffeine in 10 days or less. Also, he says take no more than two prescription migraine pills a month (I was taking 12-15) to avoid rebounding. For all other headaches, use ibuprofen or acetaminophen (there is much about acetaminophen being VERY hard on the liver, and as much as I need, I try to stick with ibuprofen) and use an ice pack on your head.
This is a ROUGH two-week de-tox (longer for some folks), but well worth it.
Step 2: Eliminate Potential Food Triggers
Bucholz has a list of common food triggers and says you should get off of ALL of them and here's why (even if you don't think they are a trigger):
There are so many triggers that we can't avoid (weather changes, hormones, environmental factors, stress, etc.) that we should take extra precaution to know and avoid the triggers that we CAN avoid. Also, many people are unaware that a food is a trigger because for instance, let's say that a storm is coming in (classic migraine trigger), hormones are raging (classic migraine trigger), and you had a horribly stressful day at work (classic migraine trigger). You get home from work without a migraine and eat a slab of chocolate (classic migraine trigger). The chocolate is the 'straw that broke the camel's back' and sends you to bed for the night with a migraine. Three days later, when the storm has passed, hormones have leveled off, and it's your day off, you finish off the chocolate and... nothing. So, you think, "Whew! So glad chocolate isn't a trigger!"
So, Bucholz says to get off of all of these and stay off. He said for 4 months. I confess I started 'cheating' after about 2 weeks, thinking, "I really miss this, and I really don't think THIS is one of MY triggers." Guess what? Found a trigger! Almonds!
Without any further ado, la list (in order of how frequently they are a trigger for people according to Bucholz): (a copy of the list)
- caffeine (he includes decaffeinated drinks due to the chemicals used to take the caffeine out as well as the amount of caffeine left in)
- chocolate
- Monosodium Glutamate (MSG) -- no bacon, sausage, and few prepared meats
- processed meats and fish
- cheese and other dairy, including yogurt and sour cream
- Nuts and nut butters
- Alcohol and vinegar, especially red wine, even condiments made with vinegar (ketchup)
- a vague array of fruits and juices (mentioning citrus)
- a vague array of vegetables
- fresh bread (less than one day old)
- Aspartame/ Nutrasweet
- anything that YOU find that gives you a headache
Some things about this: he recommends to go off of ALL of these things, then slowly add back in only the things you actually miss (he says things you don't miss aren't really worth it, which is why I still haven't had yogurt!) HOWEVER, his one caveat: he says that caffeine is simply too much trouble, and anyone that suffers from migraine should get off of it, stay off of it, and never re-introduce it. You know, I don't miss the feel -- I especially don't miss feeling crummy later in the day. I miss the taste. Oh, heavenly days, I miss the taste. Seriously, licking my lips as I type. It helps that my preventative that I take has changed the way Diet Coke tastes, so even if I were to drink one, it isn't my old friend Diet Coke. But, oh, I miss it so....
I have been off of caffeine about 6 weeks. I can honestly say that I can go without it for the rest of my life, but I don't know if I can go the rest of my life only drinking water, which is pretty much all that is available to me currently (once you eliminate high calorie, Aspartame, and caffeine). It's pretty boring.
Oh, one more: he also says that pizza, due to being yeasty, full of cheese and if it has meat on it, MSG, can be one of the worst things for a migraine sufferer. It doesn't seem to bother me. FYI. Whew...
Step 3: Raise your Threshold.
This means, basically, go to your doctor and get on a preventative. Which, to be honest, I did first, and would highly recommend doing BEFORE you go through all of the detoxing, what-have-you because it can also reduce the severity of migraine symptoms. However, like any other medication, these are not without side effects. Mine has been a God-send, but I can't rely on it as the be-all, end-all savior to end my migraines. Also, I am on one that my doctor said, "Start at this dosage, and go up dosage every week until migraines are almost eliminated." Well, by the time migraines were almost eliminated, I felt HORRIBLE 24/7. Vague headache, no energy, just terrible. I felt so bad, it took me two weeks to realize this: "At the lower dosage, I did have 3 migraines in a week, but I actually felt good for the other 4 days!" I went to the lower dosage, and have now had 1 migraine in the last two weeks. A HUGE victory for me.
My doctor wants me at the higher dosage -- I don't know why -- but I'm perfectly happy here. Truthfully, I will stay here a few months and maybe see if I can get off of this and control migraine by diet.
So. My migraine life. Happy to share what I know. There are many alternatives that I wish I could afford to try -- accupuncture, for example -- but for now simply eliminating certain foods and being good to myself seem to be working.
I'll be happy to answer any of your questions -- it would work best if you would leave me your email address -- but keep in mind I am NOT a medical professional, and I would encourage you to keep doing your own research with a medical professional.
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