No, this isn't an anatomy lesson. This really struck me a few weeks ago. On July 4th, Troy was off of work, of course, and we had a fun family day. Early in the day, before it got too miserably hot, we decided to go for a bike ride. The kids and I all have bikes, but our oldest chose not to go on the ride, so Troy used her bike and the three of us went for a ride. Keep in mind that the kids and I have ridden quite frequently together. It basically always makes me a nervous wreck. I spend most of my time coaching on bicycle safety:
"Stay in a single-file line on the right side of the road."
"Slow down at this intersection to watch for cars. They have the stop sign, but make sure they see you."
"Keep your helmet on the top part of your head."
The funny thing is that when I was riding with my husband (who refused to wear a helmet) I should have been saying the same things. I realized that while I feel it is my job to teach my children how to be safe on their bicycles, Troy believes it is his job to teach them how to do a perfect wheelie and how to go 'dirt-biking' over the mounds of dirt at a nearby construction site. In all honesty -- each of those things is important. So I'm thankful that Troy is around to teach such things (I don't think I could ever pull off a wheelie).
I thought the same thing last week on our amusement-park tour. It was my self-appointed job to make sure everyone got enough water to drink, was always with an adult, and didn't eat so much junk that they got sick (which was easy to do since after paying $9 for an icee for everyone, we were done for the day -- I'm not exaggerating a penny). Troy had to make sure that everyone rode at least one thing that was a little bit scary for them, then on Friday he made the most beloved rule of all. After we had both jumped all over youngest for burping quite audibly at the steak house the night before, Troy made a new rule after lunch on Friday: "Burping after meals consumed in an amusement park is okay." After this pronunciation, he proceeded to shake the rafters with his own eructation. The kids were thrilled.
I am so thankful to God for designing this dance we do through life of give / take, push / pull, worry / play as parents. I am so thankful for the man I married to take on his role as bicycle daredevil instructor and roller coaster evaluator.
Tuesday morning, Jack will have surgery on his eye and a port installed (inserted? implanted? stuck in? what do they call that?) for chemo to start later this week to treat the tumors. Please say a prayer for Jack, his doctors, the surgery, the chemo -- all of it. Tammy (Jack's mom) keeps us all posted on Updates on Jack. Check there for details.
Sunday
Great commercial for Visa CheckCard
Yesterday we returned from the Arlington area. We spent a day at Six Flags, a day at Hurricane Harbor, and yesterday met my family in east Texas so that they could take the kids back to Louisiana with them. More on that trip later. So I would love to use my time without kids and before starting a new job doing some little jobs around the house and getting my home in working order. (almost typed 'working odor' -- may have to do some research on what THAT could mean!)
One of my first stops when I got back to town was the bed and bath store for some things I would need for all of my projects. When I was told what the total for my purchase was, I was pleasantly surprised. I thought something must have been on sale that I didn't realize. Don't you love it when that happens?
Walking out of the store, I checked my receipt and found that they only charged me for one set of curtains when I got two. The lines were all long, so I went on to my other stops in the same shopping center before I came back (and, yes, I considered not going back at all). When I returned to the store (no lines!) I told the lady why I was back and needed to pay for the set of curtains. I joked that it made the first check I wrote a little less painful! She was amazed that I had returned. As I handed her my check she continued to thank me for my honesty, then in the same breath said, "I need to see your driver's license, please."
That made me laugh, but I guess I appreciate that she was making sure some criminal wasn't being honest with MY checkbook!
One of my first stops when I got back to town was the bed and bath store for some things I would need for all of my projects. When I was told what the total for my purchase was, I was pleasantly surprised. I thought something must have been on sale that I didn't realize. Don't you love it when that happens?
Walking out of the store, I checked my receipt and found that they only charged me for one set of curtains when I got two. The lines were all long, so I went on to my other stops in the same shopping center before I came back (and, yes, I considered not going back at all). When I returned to the store (no lines!) I told the lady why I was back and needed to pay for the set of curtains. I joked that it made the first check I wrote a little less painful! She was amazed that I had returned. As I handed her my check she continued to thank me for my honesty, then in the same breath said, "I need to see your driver's license, please."
That made me laugh, but I guess I appreciate that she was making sure some criminal wasn't being honest with MY checkbook!
Thursday
Wednesday
Help for the working woman
As you may/may not know, I have a few too many blogs for a normal human. On my recipe blog, we are collecting recipes that are good to freeze to cook and serve later on a busy day. Do you have a good recipe to post? Click here, click on a 'comment' link, and post your recipe! I'll move it to the front and center of the blog to share with all of blog-world!
Monday
Funny Bumper Sticker
Seen this afternoon in Abilene, Texas:
"Silly Cowboy, Trucks are for Girls!"
Have you seen any that make you laugh? (that can be posted on a family-friendly blog?)
"Silly Cowboy, Trucks are for Girls!"
Have you seen any that make you laugh? (that can be posted on a family-friendly blog?)
Friday
True Confessions
(get your mind out of the gutter -- this is a family blog. except for my kids -- you're about to understand why)
Have you ever thrown away trash that you knew was valuable trash to a shorter member of your family, then when they searched for it you tried to offer helpful advice: "Did you look under your bed?" "Is it in your brother/sister's room?" "Did you maybe accidentally throw it away?"
You've never done that? Oh, well, me neither, then.
Have you ever thrown away trash that you knew was valuable trash to a shorter member of your family, then when they searched for it you tried to offer helpful advice: "Did you look under your bed?" "Is it in your brother/sister's room?" "Did you maybe accidentally throw it away?"
You've never done that? Oh, well, me neither, then.
Not much to Blog
I'm feeling overwhelmed in my life. Overwhelmed by the circumstances that other people find themselves in. Just so many hard times. My friend, Tammy, took her son, Jack, to Dallas this week for follow-up after Jack's brain surgery to remove a tumor in May (late April?) The results weren't what any of us had hoped, prayed, or expected. You can keep up with Jack on Updates on Jack. So that makes me sad, and there's just so much else right now in people I know and love. So I may be taking a blogging hiatus. I have much to say, and lots of questions to ask, but none of it is appropriate here. Again, though, it does call to mind a song. When I don't know what to pray, when words don't come, I simply can 'cry out':
I cry out
For your hand of mercy to heal me
I am weak
I need your love to free me
O Lord, my rock
My strength in weakness
Come rescue me oh Lord
You are my hope
Your promise never fails me
And my desire
Is to follow You forever
For You are good
For You are good
For You are good to me
For You are good
For You are good
For You are good to me
Monday
He's Always Been Faithful
Since my part-time work is mainly substitute teaching, summer is a time for more creative budgeting. I also teach swim lessons which helps. But, all in all, as long as we have a plan for our money at the beginning of each month, it's no problem. In conversation today, I mentioned that we've got $40 until I get paid for this next set of swim lessons, so I would wait on whatever purchase we were discussing.
The amount of $40 brought to mind a time when things were much different. When we moved to Abilene, we were not financially in a place to be making a move. And Dave Ramsey (my favorite financial guru)says that if you spend all of your emergency cash getting into a house, then Murphy (as in Murphy's Law) is going to come move into your front bedroom. Did he ever. The flood came 6 months after we moved into the house. State Farm took care of us very well, but is required to give that check to the mortgage company. The mortgage company, in turn, parcels out the check in increments as the work on the house is completed. Obviously, this protects the mortgage company's interest as well as ours since, technically, they own way more of the house than we do. So we were paying mortgage and utilities on a home we couldn't live in, a few months of the time we did live here, but had no kitchen, gasoline back and forth, my cell phone was the only phone we had. It all started to add up.
In the middle of this we received notice that we were being sued for several thousand dollars by the people that purchased our home in Temple. We still believe we are/ were right but a court fight would cost more than simply several thousand dollars. It didn't matter -- at the time, we didn't have it.
The eating out, the utilities, the gasoline, the cell phone bill -- we just kept pulling out of savings or putting it on the credit card. Here's where $40 sounded familiar. At one point, we were way over the limit on our credit card and had $40 in savings. I remember telling God -- I don't know how you're going to pull this one off, but I have to have faith that you will. And He did. I'm ashamed that I don't remember exactly how at this point (I think a family member dropped a check in the mail just for funsies).
As my friend Donna Leavelle tells me, "if you have problems that money can solve, then you don't really have problems." I try to remember that, but more importantly I try to remember that He's always been faithful. It calls to mind one of my favorite songs. I have a recording by Zoe Group, but I'm not sure who wrote it. My apologies to the writer because it's gorgeous:
May I always remember His faithfulness and testify to His grace.
The amount of $40 brought to mind a time when things were much different. When we moved to Abilene, we were not financially in a place to be making a move. And Dave Ramsey (my favorite financial guru)says that if you spend all of your emergency cash getting into a house, then Murphy (as in Murphy's Law) is going to come move into your front bedroom. Did he ever. The flood came 6 months after we moved into the house. State Farm took care of us very well, but is required to give that check to the mortgage company. The mortgage company, in turn, parcels out the check in increments as the work on the house is completed. Obviously, this protects the mortgage company's interest as well as ours since, technically, they own way more of the house than we do. So we were paying mortgage and utilities on a home we couldn't live in, a few months of the time we did live here, but had no kitchen, gasoline back and forth, my cell phone was the only phone we had. It all started to add up.
In the middle of this we received notice that we were being sued for several thousand dollars by the people that purchased our home in Temple. We still believe we are/ were right but a court fight would cost more than simply several thousand dollars. It didn't matter -- at the time, we didn't have it.
The eating out, the utilities, the gasoline, the cell phone bill -- we just kept pulling out of savings or putting it on the credit card. Here's where $40 sounded familiar. At one point, we were way over the limit on our credit card and had $40 in savings. I remember telling God -- I don't know how you're going to pull this one off, but I have to have faith that you will. And He did. I'm ashamed that I don't remember exactly how at this point (I think a family member dropped a check in the mail just for funsies).
As my friend Donna Leavelle tells me, "if you have problems that money can solve, then you don't really have problems." I try to remember that, but more importantly I try to remember that He's always been faithful. It calls to mind one of my favorite songs. I have a recording by Zoe Group, but I'm not sure who wrote it. My apologies to the writer because it's gorgeous:
Morning by morning I wake up to find
the power and comfort of God's hand in mine.
Season by season I watch him amazed, in
awe of the mystery of his perfect ways
All I have need of his hand will provide.
He's always been faithful to me
I can't remember a trial or a pain
he did not recycle to bring me gain.
I can't remember one single regret
in serving God only and trusting his hand
All I have need of his hand will provide.
He's always been faithful to me
This is my anthem, this is my song, the
theme of the stories I've heard for so long.
God has been faithful, he will be again.
His loving compassion, it knows no end.
All I have need of his hand will provide.
He's always been faithful to me
May I always remember His faithfulness and testify to His grace.
Sunday
Favorite Quotes
I'm wiped out. VBS started tonight. I didn't lead little robe-clad children, or even teach them how to make a broom using hay, a dowel, and some string. My job this year was VBS data-entry. I really do enjoy that type work, but I did learn a lesson that can be summed up as: Quattro Pro (database software included in word perfect office) is the spawn of Satan and evil, evil, evil. Microsoft Excel IS indeed excel, as in EXCELlent!! Suffice it to say that I have put all 180 VBS registrants into tribes and in a database twice now. And, I have learned from Donnie Carroll -- you can try, but you can't make everybody happy, and "life goes on." That's why he's qualified to have 7 kids and I'm not (yes, he does -- ages 6 to 24, I believe).
Am I the only one that thinks in sound-bites? I doubt it, because as I rattle off a quote from a movie (from MY era -- Sixteen Candles, Ferris Bueller's, Breakfast Club) someone invariably knows another quote from the same movie (in Abilene that someone is generally Denise -- no wonder you don't remember things that happen in life; your brain is too full of movie quotes and music lyrics!) I've thought about some of my favorites and collected a few of them here. Some of the language isn't what I use on a regular basis -- but I think that's why it appeals to me. It's my altar-ego, in quote form.
This week at one of my girls' night out, we got on a roll about our favorite 'Steel Magnolias' quote. I was raised in North Louisiana, and every character in 'Steel Magnolias' is either me, or someone I know, or a combination of the two. There are two quotes that I think about quite frequently:
And there are several others that I use on occasion:
Tammy brought up another one I had forgotten:
I found lots more -- and laughed out loud all over again -- at this website.
Another quote that I have enjoyed lately is from Gwyneth Paltrow, who I still know little enough about to consider beautiful on the inside and outside (I'm sure there's some dirt out there to tell me otherwise, but don't tell me, okay?) She says:
Lately I feel comfortable in my own skin AND I've gotten a (well, you know) red lipstick. I must have it goin' on! :-)
Besides scripture, what quotes roll around in your head?
Am I the only one that thinks in sound-bites? I doubt it, because as I rattle off a quote from a movie (from MY era -- Sixteen Candles, Ferris Bueller's, Breakfast Club) someone invariably knows another quote from the same movie (in Abilene that someone is generally Denise -- no wonder you don't remember things that happen in life; your brain is too full of movie quotes and music lyrics!) I've thought about some of my favorites and collected a few of them here. Some of the language isn't what I use on a regular basis -- but I think that's why it appeals to me. It's my altar-ego, in quote form.
This week at one of my girls' night out, we got on a roll about our favorite 'Steel Magnolias' quote. I was raised in North Louisiana, and every character in 'Steel Magnolias' is either me, or someone I know, or a combination of the two. There are two quotes that I think about quite frequently:
"Drum Eatenton, you are a boil on the butt of humanity!" (Ouiser)
"Maybe she's praying because we were gossiping, maybe she's praying because the elastic is shot in her pantyhose." (Truvy, about Annelle)
And there are several others that I use on occasion:
"I am PLEASANT! Damn it!" (Ouiser)
"I'm not crazy, I've just been in a very bad mood for the last 40 years!" (Ouiser)
"He's so confused he doesn't know whether to scratch his watch or wind his butt." (Truvy)
"The only thing that separates us from the animals is our ability to accessorize." (Clairee)
Tammy brought up another one I had forgotten:
"Oh, Ouiser, ya know I love ya more than my luggage." (Clairee)
I found lots more -- and laughed out loud all over again -- at this website.
Another quote that I have enjoyed lately is from Gwyneth Paltrow, who I still know little enough about to consider beautiful on the inside and outside (I'm sure there's some dirt out there to tell me otherwise, but don't tell me, okay?) She says:
"Beauty, to me, is about being comfortable in your own skin. That, or a kick-ass red lipstick."
Lately I feel comfortable in my own skin AND I've gotten a (well, you know) red lipstick. I must have it goin' on! :-)
Besides scripture, what quotes roll around in your head?
Saturday
The Power Of One, Pt. 4
I could probably go on about this forever, but I won't! I think I've already decided what my next soapbox will be (intentionality) and this will lead right into it. Another book I have read didn't really strike me as poignant until I started thinking about it in the light of "The Red Tent" and the influence Jacob was able to have on the generations to come. The book "Outlander" is basically about a woman who accidentally falls into 1743 from 1943. Initially her struggle is to get back to 1943, then her struggle is whether or not she WANTS to go back because she has fallen in love. Her struggle is also on what she knows about history and how she may or may not be able to change it with her knowledge. The thought of changing history disturbs her, as I guess it would any of us. She confides in a priest where she came from and her struggle with what she knows about the future (future from a 1743 perspective). His reply was quite eloquent. She had been an army nurse in 1943 and he pointed out that she very well may have been changing history then -- keeping someone alive who may have otherwise died, for instance. What if that person later had a child that went on to invent great things or cure a horrible disease? She just didn't have the blessing (or curse) of having seen it written only to need it to be corrected. Everything that we do changes the pages of a history book yet to be written.
Since I'm not a nurse or in the medical profession in any way (I gag when my kids have a loose tooth) I'm tempted to think, "Well, that doesn't apply to me -- I'm certainly not saving lives." But I've been around long enough to see the impact my mere words have on people. Anyone's words, really -- helpful or hurtful, words stick with people. Especially children.
I also recently read an article about a grown woman who became terrified of a neighbor woman because she heard the way she spoke to her own children. THAT really spoke to me. Not only my actions, but my words have the power to change history -- if only the history of one person's life. That's so frightening to me considering how quickly words tumble from my mouth -- sometimes with very little thought behind them. I pray that others are as ready with forgiveness as I am with my words!
I have been at this computer most of today -- and I'm too tired to go into how it was all pretty much useless and I'll have to do it again tomorrow on another computer!
Let me just say that I'm the VBS data-entry person. After today, I may be in danger of losing my job!
Everybody have a great Sunday worshipping and fellowshipping!
Since I'm not a nurse or in the medical profession in any way (I gag when my kids have a loose tooth) I'm tempted to think, "Well, that doesn't apply to me -- I'm certainly not saving lives." But I've been around long enough to see the impact my mere words have on people. Anyone's words, really -- helpful or hurtful, words stick with people. Especially children.
I also recently read an article about a grown woman who became terrified of a neighbor woman because she heard the way she spoke to her own children. THAT really spoke to me. Not only my actions, but my words have the power to change history -- if only the history of one person's life. That's so frightening to me considering how quickly words tumble from my mouth -- sometimes with very little thought behind them. I pray that others are as ready with forgiveness as I am with my words!
I have been at this computer most of today -- and I'm too tired to go into how it was all pretty much useless and I'll have to do it again tomorrow on another computer!
Let me just say that I'm the VBS data-entry person. After today, I may be in danger of losing my job!
Everybody have a great Sunday worshipping and fellowshipping!
Thursday
The Power Of One, Pt. 3
I think this is my favorite character in my "Power of One" topic. I think because I'm figuring out that the "Power of One" doesn't refer to the one person -- it refers to the One God who works through ANY one person. Not you? Well, if God will choose to work through THIS woman, I feel certain He will choose to work through any of us.
We would all call this woman "a loser". That's about as nice as any of us could be -- bless her heart! Sure she had a rotten childhood, but now that she's grown up can't she get her act together, for pity's sake? Now she's been married AND DIVORCED five times. I guess we have to appreciate that she won't even try to make a mockery out of the wedding vows a sixth time since she's living with that guy. Not that any of us have really tried. She's the butt of a lot of jokes in town, and we sure don't want our husbands glancing in her direction.
She's figured out that she's an outcast. It doesn't take a genius to know that no fine, upstanding women would be seen in her acquaintance. And so it was the day she was at the well mid-afternoon when Jesus asked her for a drink. Interesting that he stopped at Jacob's well. Jacob, the one faithful to God that I wrote about earlier. So now, generations later, Jesus strikes up a conversation with her. We don't even know her name.
Jesus knew. He knew all about her life -- and he loved her. She tried so hard to change the subject and argue religion. Jesus would have none of it. Finally, she realized who she was talking to. Knowing Jesus changed her life. And she couldn't help but tell about it. She dropped everything and ran.
Who would you pick to be a missionary to a region that had never met Christ? Would it be her? That's who God used. . .
We would all call this woman "a loser". That's about as nice as any of us could be -- bless her heart! Sure she had a rotten childhood, but now that she's grown up can't she get her act together, for pity's sake? Now she's been married AND DIVORCED five times. I guess we have to appreciate that she won't even try to make a mockery out of the wedding vows a sixth time since she's living with that guy. Not that any of us have really tried. She's the butt of a lot of jokes in town, and we sure don't want our husbands glancing in her direction.
She's figured out that she's an outcast. It doesn't take a genius to know that no fine, upstanding women would be seen in her acquaintance. And so it was the day she was at the well mid-afternoon when Jesus asked her for a drink. Interesting that he stopped at Jacob's well. Jacob, the one faithful to God that I wrote about earlier. So now, generations later, Jesus strikes up a conversation with her. We don't even know her name.
Jesus knew. He knew all about her life -- and he loved her. She tried so hard to change the subject and argue religion. Jesus would have none of it. Finally, she realized who she was talking to. Knowing Jesus changed her life. And she couldn't help but tell about it. She dropped everything and ran.
Who would you pick to be a missionary to a region that had never met Christ? Would it be her? That's who God used. . .
"Many of the Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman's testimony, 'He told me everything I ever did.'" John 4:39
Wednesday
"I Don't Go to Wal-Mart"
If you want people to look at you as if they think you might have said, "I worship at the camel of the fuzzy hindquarters" then tell them you don't go to Wal-Mart. Even if you do. It's so funny! If you know me even a little bit, you're probably aware that I really don't go to Wal-Mart. I have been less strident and obnoxious about this fact this year -- but it is a fact. Inevitably the question comes up, "Then, where do you go?" You can tell how frequently a person goes to Wal-Mart by how soon they ask this question. Some people simply cannot imagine a week without Wal-Mart. Think outside the box, folks. One woman said, in wonder, "I go to Wal-Mart at least three times a week." When I told her I didn't think I had been to Wal-Mart three times this calendar year, she just shook her head in amazement.
I have mis-spoken in the past by simply repeating the mantra, "I hate Wal-Mart!!" And there are things about Wal-Mart that I do, in fact hate (oh, let me count the ways). But, more than anything, I hate that the American public has said, "Yes! Give me horrible service! Give me 50 acres of merchandise with no rhyme or reason as to how it is arranged! Give me law of the jungle type courtesy in customers! Give me poor quality products! I need all of these things so that I can save 15 cents on a box of Tampax!" When I do (rarely) go in Wal-Mart I cannot believe that not only do we, as a public put up with it, we throw millions of dollars at it as a reward. Welcome, Wal-Mart shoppers. . . *sigh*
Okay, I feel better! :-) I have more on my "Power of One" line of thinking, but we are on our way out the door. Troy is on his way back from Dallas and the kids and I are heading to Temple (no, I'm not trying to avoid him -- we both thought this trip to Dallas would last longer than this). Ashley will stay and play with a friend and Riley and I will stay at Mike's and hang out together.
I'm kind of in a summer lull -- haven't read much and I've even backed way off on my exercise. Maybe it's "the dog days of summer". I would really rather just curl up in a cool spot and have a nap!
I have mis-spoken in the past by simply repeating the mantra, "I hate Wal-Mart!!" And there are things about Wal-Mart that I do, in fact hate (oh, let me count the ways). But, more than anything, I hate that the American public has said, "Yes! Give me horrible service! Give me 50 acres of merchandise with no rhyme or reason as to how it is arranged! Give me law of the jungle type courtesy in customers! Give me poor quality products! I need all of these things so that I can save 15 cents on a box of Tampax!" When I do (rarely) go in Wal-Mart I cannot believe that not only do we, as a public put up with it, we throw millions of dollars at it as a reward. Welcome, Wal-Mart shoppers. . . *sigh*
Okay, I feel better! :-) I have more on my "Power of One" line of thinking, but we are on our way out the door. Troy is on his way back from Dallas and the kids and I are heading to Temple (no, I'm not trying to avoid him -- we both thought this trip to Dallas would last longer than this). Ashley will stay and play with a friend and Riley and I will stay at Mike's and hang out together.
I'm kind of in a summer lull -- haven't read much and I've even backed way off on my exercise. Maybe it's "the dog days of summer". I would really rather just curl up in a cool spot and have a nap!
Monday
The Power Of One, Pt. 2
I saw a one-woman play this winter about six of the women mentioned in the geneology of Jesus (I BELIEVE they are the only women mentioned, but I've already showed I'm fairly ignorant of the whole of it). Donna Hester portrayed each of the women in a fairly modern setting in a play entitled, "Iron Apron Strings". (That was the name of the art exhibit -- I think the play, also). It was very creatively done and helped you think of these women as actual women, instead of 'characters'.
The woman she portrayed that has haunted me most is Bathsheba. I guess it's because we know so little about her she remains a mysterious woman, yet a crucial part of history. Let's sum up what we do know about her: she was physically beautiful, she followed the King's orders when he summoned her, she knew she was in a compromising situation when her husband had been away at war for months and she learned she was pregnant, and scripture tells us that when she learned that Uriah was dead, "she mourned for him." That's about it. I've heard speculation and presumption that she was a loose woman because she was even bathing where she could be seen. Perhaps. I doubt she ever meant for it to lead to adultery and murder.
The point that has haunted me most is how Bathsheba probably lived out the rest of her life. I'll be honest, I haven't done extensive scripture research for all of the mentions of Bathsheba (but I'm tempted to now!) But I don't recall much mention beyond her adulterous encounter with David that led her husband to be killed that led her to become David's wife and Solomon's mother. I imagine that her life was a life of material wealth and comfort living with David. But I also imagine that she felt forever shadowed by how she came to be living in such wealth. I doubt she ever fully forgave herself. I imagine that in her final years the regrets and sorrow about Uriah came frequently to mind as her body became more and more idle. I have a mental image that the weight of the guilt weighed her down and she was no longer a beautiful young woman, but a stooped elderly lady burdened with guilt and shame.
I think that's how I imagine it because I can picture myself reacting the same way. What weighed Bathsheba down the most was not knowing how God could use her sin. We all have such a limited view of creation. We try to teach our children to not be self-centered, but I don't think we ever really outgrow believing ourselves to be the center of the universe (I'm talking to/about myself here). Were I in the same situation as Bathsheba, I would only be able to see my own shame and how it had affected (i.e., ruined) my life. I'm so thankful to be able have the hindsight of Bathsheba's life and know that from her sin, from her mis-step, from her poor decision, from her listening to the wrong person -- God's plan was fulfilled. It's that vision and knowledge that enables me to trust that God can use my life to His glory, when I seem to make an enormous mess on my own.
Father, lead me to understand that I am not the universe or the entirity of your plan -- I'm simply a small puzzle piece in it. I know that you are able to use me to fulfill your plan -- but I may not even know how in my lifetime, much like Bathsheba couldn't have known how. Lord, lead me to Kingdom vision, not Sarah vision.
The woman she portrayed that has haunted me most is Bathsheba. I guess it's because we know so little about her she remains a mysterious woman, yet a crucial part of history. Let's sum up what we do know about her: she was physically beautiful, she followed the King's orders when he summoned her, she knew she was in a compromising situation when her husband had been away at war for months and she learned she was pregnant, and scripture tells us that when she learned that Uriah was dead, "she mourned for him." That's about it. I've heard speculation and presumption that she was a loose woman because she was even bathing where she could be seen. Perhaps. I doubt she ever meant for it to lead to adultery and murder.
The point that has haunted me most is how Bathsheba probably lived out the rest of her life. I'll be honest, I haven't done extensive scripture research for all of the mentions of Bathsheba (but I'm tempted to now!) But I don't recall much mention beyond her adulterous encounter with David that led her husband to be killed that led her to become David's wife and Solomon's mother. I imagine that her life was a life of material wealth and comfort living with David. But I also imagine that she felt forever shadowed by how she came to be living in such wealth. I doubt she ever fully forgave herself. I imagine that in her final years the regrets and sorrow about Uriah came frequently to mind as her body became more and more idle. I have a mental image that the weight of the guilt weighed her down and she was no longer a beautiful young woman, but a stooped elderly lady burdened with guilt and shame.
I think that's how I imagine it because I can picture myself reacting the same way. What weighed Bathsheba down the most was not knowing how God could use her sin. We all have such a limited view of creation. We try to teach our children to not be self-centered, but I don't think we ever really outgrow believing ourselves to be the center of the universe (I'm talking to/about myself here). Were I in the same situation as Bathsheba, I would only be able to see my own shame and how it had affected (i.e., ruined) my life. I'm so thankful to be able have the hindsight of Bathsheba's life and know that from her sin, from her mis-step, from her poor decision, from her listening to the wrong person -- God's plan was fulfilled. It's that vision and knowledge that enables me to trust that God can use my life to His glory, when I seem to make an enormous mess on my own.
Father, lead me to understand that I am not the universe or the entirity of your plan -- I'm simply a small puzzle piece in it. I know that you are able to use me to fulfill your plan -- but I may not even know how in my lifetime, much like Bathsheba couldn't have known how. Lord, lead me to Kingdom vision, not Sarah vision.
Sunday
The Power Of One, Pt. 1
I've been reading "The Red Tent" a fictional novel told from the perspective of Dinah, Jacob's daughter. She tells her family history: of Jacob coming and working to marry Rachel, being deceived into marrying Leah, and many more details from Genesis 29-35 (some factual, some fictional). One of the threads of the story is a fairly good assumption from scripture that, although Jacob would worship God and only God, his wives were happy to call on any god they thought would answer. Since the novel is told from the perspective of the daughter who spends her days with the women, there is much talk of all the different gods. I keep thinking -- this is in Jesus' geneology. How odd that there is this family that probably looked like most families of their time in their region that God used to eventually fulfill His promise. I have also been struck by how powerful Jacob's influence over his own boys must have been that he was able to make his Lord and Father stand out as God above all gods in that atmosphere.
Of course, as we continue the story, not all of the boys lived their lives honoring God. It's so fascinating to see who God will use and how! Not having my geneology of Jesus memorized, I would think that, of the 12 boys, Joseph would be the one to be included in Jesus' lineage. Remember Joseph? Always odd-man-out with his brothers, sold into slavery by them, RAN from evil with Potiphar's wife, instrumental in Egypt becoming a powerful nation in a time of famine. That sounds like good Jesus lineage material to me. Which is why I'm not God. God used Judah, instead. Judah, what a mess. Judah, who had a son who was so evil that God put him to death. You'll just have to read Genesis 38 to be reminded of how Judah's offspring came into being by his daughter-in-law who was pretending to be a prostitute. And we wonder where Jerry Springer comes up with his story lines?
My original thought on this is that it only took one -- one person, one parent to show a "tribe" of 12 who God is. I pray to empty myself and my will to Him that I may be that one to people I encounter.
Of course, as we continue the story, not all of the boys lived their lives honoring God. It's so fascinating to see who God will use and how! Not having my geneology of Jesus memorized, I would think that, of the 12 boys, Joseph would be the one to be included in Jesus' lineage. Remember Joseph? Always odd-man-out with his brothers, sold into slavery by them, RAN from evil with Potiphar's wife, instrumental in Egypt becoming a powerful nation in a time of famine. That sounds like good Jesus lineage material to me. Which is why I'm not God. God used Judah, instead. Judah, what a mess. Judah, who had a son who was so evil that God put him to death. You'll just have to read Genesis 38 to be reminded of how Judah's offspring came into being by his daughter-in-law who was pretending to be a prostitute. And we wonder where Jerry Springer comes up with his story lines?
My original thought on this is that it only took one -- one person, one parent to show a "tribe" of 12 who God is. I pray to empty myself and my will to Him that I may be that one to people I encounter.
Saturday
Busy Saturday
There's much I would like to write about that was running through my head at 4 a.m., but my time constraints just have me "touching blog base" today (let's all conjure a mental image of what 'touching blog base' would be! :-)
We are headed to a family reunion where I will very vaguely know about 4 people, the kids know no one, I will haul a ton of food there, and a good time will be had by all. I've already warned the kids not to ask me how soon we can leave -- we will be there most of the day and just get over it. This is a reunion that is (obviously) Troy's side of the family that he and I haven't been to since we were married 12+ years ago. Reunions have never been a big deal for my family -- partly b/c our family is fairly small on my dad's side, and most of my mom's family lived within "spittin' distance" (and that's just how you would say it there, too!)
I do think it's important to reconnect with those who have touched the lives of people who touched your life. I'm sure I'll have more to write about on my return. For now, I must go squeeze in some exercise, then make a huge batch of Southwestern Chicken Spaghetti to haul to Brownwood!
We are headed to a family reunion where I will very vaguely know about 4 people, the kids know no one, I will haul a ton of food there, and a good time will be had by all. I've already warned the kids not to ask me how soon we can leave -- we will be there most of the day and just get over it. This is a reunion that is (obviously) Troy's side of the family that he and I haven't been to since we were married 12+ years ago. Reunions have never been a big deal for my family -- partly b/c our family is fairly small on my dad's side, and most of my mom's family lived within "spittin' distance" (and that's just how you would say it there, too!)
I do think it's important to reconnect with those who have touched the lives of people who touched your life. I'm sure I'll have more to write about on my return. For now, I must go squeeze in some exercise, then make a huge batch of Southwestern Chicken Spaghetti to haul to Brownwood!
Thursday
"Her children arise and call her blessed. . ."
Ashley: "What stinks in here?"
Riley: "It's either Duchess. . . or Mom."
More Rangers' Game Pics
Now that the Sullivan family has been apprised of my posting of ONE of the ultra-cuties, I must follow through and get the rest of the guys up there. My apologies to Clark, who I was unable to get a good picture of, but he is mentioned in Independence Day as my favorite fireworks memory!
Bennet and Clark, absorbed in the game (more than you can say about me, for sure).
The Stirmans, roasting at the ballpark!
Griffin, the youngest of the Sullivan cuties.
The Chick-Fil-A cows, hanging out with the fans. Can you think of a worse summer job? If it felt like 126* in the ballpark, can you imagine what it was inside a Chick-Fil-A cow costume?
Bennet and Clark, absorbed in the game (more than you can say about me, for sure).
The Stirmans, roasting at the ballpark!
Griffin, the youngest of the Sullivan cuties.
The Chick-Fil-A cows, hanging out with the fans. Can you think of a worse summer job? If it felt like 126* in the ballpark, can you imagine what it was inside a Chick-Fil-A cow costume?
Wednesday
From Years Gone By
I'm cleaning out some files this morning and came across an email that I sent out, then printed to keep for myself, several years ago. The date on it shows August of 2001, shortly before we learned of Troy's job in Abilene. Riley would have been 3:
I would not have been able to re-tell that story, but now that I've read it, I remember vivid details of it and how I laughed for the fleeting theological discussion to turn toward pizzas.
We had a similar conversation this morning while I was weeding. I told him that, like my Bible reading and knowing God, I wanted weeding to be a one-time deal. Do it and be done. But weeding doesn't work that way, and neither does my prayer time because Satan is out there in the world. You have to stay on top of it every day.
Riley commented, "Satan is the weed. We have to keep him out of there."
We also noticed that a weed that had been let go for too long was all but impossible to get out and we had to dig almost to China to get to the root. We decided that it's best to get sin out as soon as you can before you have to dig to China to get it out.
Do you ever feel like the job of leading these questioning minds on The Path is way out of your league?
Riley and I were alone in the car on the way to church tonight for a pizza dinner, then church.
Riley told me, "Mommy, God is making the cut on my leg better."
"Riley, God just takes such good care of us."
"Yep, and there's someone else up in heaven who takes care of us. Can you guess who it is, Mommy?"
"It must be Jesus."
"Yep, Jesus has a beard, but God doesn't."
"Riley, what does God look like?"
"Like Mommies and Daddies. Only my daddy has a mustache and God doesn't" (evidently God has no facial hair).
(brief pause as I bask in the thought of my son associating God with his parents)
"Mommy, what do the bottoms of pizzas look like?"
I would not have been able to re-tell that story, but now that I've read it, I remember vivid details of it and how I laughed for the fleeting theological discussion to turn toward pizzas.
We had a similar conversation this morning while I was weeding. I told him that, like my Bible reading and knowing God, I wanted weeding to be a one-time deal. Do it and be done. But weeding doesn't work that way, and neither does my prayer time because Satan is out there in the world. You have to stay on top of it every day.
Riley commented, "Satan is the weed. We have to keep him out of there."
We also noticed that a weed that had been let go for too long was all but impossible to get out and we had to dig almost to China to get to the root. We decided that it's best to get sin out as soon as you can before you have to dig to China to get it out.
Do you ever feel like the job of leading these questioning minds on The Path is way out of your league?
Tuesday
Independence Day
Allow me to start this post with a disclaimer: I love my country. In a quiet moment of reflection, I am so thankful for the opportunities we are all afforded here, and for the men and women who have died so that we can all be as lazy or ambitious as we choose. I know it's not a perfect country, and I don't think it's the ONLY country that's great or the only country that God blesses. But I do, indeed, love my country and am thankful to have been born here. Problem is, I have found, that July 4th is pretty much the last day of the year for any quiet reflection.
Troy was home (and that's a good thing) and the kids were extra-cuckoo. I always grieve for retail employees who have to work on holidays, but I was so thankful to have a place to go! In the early afternoon we went to the movie and saw "Herbie, Fully Loaded" -- pretty much as great as all of the Herbie movies. Lots of laughs for the kids, and only very innocent teenage romance. We had some burgers for dinner, then tried to go to the pool (they closed an hour earlier than usual -- my name was 'Mud'!) Wasted a little more time in the evening and finally headed out to the fireworks. Being early to bed people, July 4th fireworks always present a bit of a struggle for us. Just about the time we're really ready for bed, it's finally dark enough for the fireworks to start. As the kids become more and more tired, they get more and more hyped up and Troy and I get more and more tired and less tolerant of the hyper kids.
I do love fireworks. I have decided recently they are definitely a community activity. You simply must sit with a loved one and exclaim, "Isn't that pretty?" "Those are my favorites." "Ooooh, I liked that one!" There were fireworks after the Rangers game and my favorite moment was Clark Sullivan with hands clamped over his ears, turning to his mom with a smile squished between his hands and exclaiming, "Aren't they pretty, Momma?" Watching fireworks just has to be done with friends and family.
Last night our little family was a bee hive of noise and activity. The kids sat on top of the car, then came down, then Ashley went back up. Troy found some non-stop patriotic music on the radio to get in the spirit that the kids griped and whined about. They squirreled all over and finally, Troy just packed us all up and we headed home. As we first pulled away, we could see the last of the fireworks, so we almost made it through the whole thing. Troy was trying not to fume while they were getting louder and louder in the back seat and again, with the music, "What is this music?" "Why aren't there any words?" "But I don't know this one!!" Troy just kept turning up his music and the kids just kept talking to each other louder and louder. Good times. Finally, the music became a tune that the kids knew. With no prompting, the chatter and frivolity in the back seat turned to a sing-along and we heard two precious voices:
"America! America!
God shed His grace on thee.
And crown thy good,
With brotherhood,
From sea to shining sea."
Good times indeed.
Today, Riley continued his singing expertise:
Old McDonald had a farm,
E-I-E-I-O (what does that MEAN, anyway?)
And on that farm he had a Riley,
E-I-E-I-O:
With a talk, talk here,
A talk, talk there. . . .
Then, feeling burdened by his jobs, continued:
Old McMommy had a farm,
E-I-E-I-O,
And on that farm she had a Riley,
E-I-E-I-O:
With a work, work here,
A work, work there. . . .
I have a good life.
Troy was home (and that's a good thing) and the kids were extra-cuckoo. I always grieve for retail employees who have to work on holidays, but I was so thankful to have a place to go! In the early afternoon we went to the movie and saw "Herbie, Fully Loaded" -- pretty much as great as all of the Herbie movies. Lots of laughs for the kids, and only very innocent teenage romance. We had some burgers for dinner, then tried to go to the pool (they closed an hour earlier than usual -- my name was 'Mud'!) Wasted a little more time in the evening and finally headed out to the fireworks. Being early to bed people, July 4th fireworks always present a bit of a struggle for us. Just about the time we're really ready for bed, it's finally dark enough for the fireworks to start. As the kids become more and more tired, they get more and more hyped up and Troy and I get more and more tired and less tolerant of the hyper kids.
I do love fireworks. I have decided recently they are definitely a community activity. You simply must sit with a loved one and exclaim, "Isn't that pretty?" "Those are my favorites." "Ooooh, I liked that one!" There were fireworks after the Rangers game and my favorite moment was Clark Sullivan with hands clamped over his ears, turning to his mom with a smile squished between his hands and exclaiming, "Aren't they pretty, Momma?" Watching fireworks just has to be done with friends and family.
Last night our little family was a bee hive of noise and activity. The kids sat on top of the car, then came down, then Ashley went back up. Troy found some non-stop patriotic music on the radio to get in the spirit that the kids griped and whined about. They squirreled all over and finally, Troy just packed us all up and we headed home. As we first pulled away, we could see the last of the fireworks, so we almost made it through the whole thing. Troy was trying not to fume while they were getting louder and louder in the back seat and again, with the music, "What is this music?" "Why aren't there any words?" "But I don't know this one!!" Troy just kept turning up his music and the kids just kept talking to each other louder and louder. Good times. Finally, the music became a tune that the kids knew. With no prompting, the chatter and frivolity in the back seat turned to a sing-along and we heard two precious voices:
"America! America!
God shed His grace on thee.
And crown thy good,
With brotherhood,
From sea to shining sea."
Good times indeed.
Today, Riley continued his singing expertise:
Old McDonald had a farm,
E-I-E-I-O (what does that MEAN, anyway?)
And on that farm he had a Riley,
E-I-E-I-O:
With a talk, talk here,
A talk, talk there. . . .
Then, feeling burdened by his jobs, continued:
Old McMommy had a farm,
E-I-E-I-O,
And on that farm she had a Riley,
E-I-E-I-O:
With a work, work here,
A work, work there. . . .
I have a good life.
Sunday
(left) Bennet Sullivan. Is he the absolute cutest or what? His parents say that they wish they had a nickel for every time he has been compared to Jonathan Lipnicki (below) -- his college would be well funded by now. 
I took Bennet's picture at the Rangers game we went to a few weeks ago. You know, I'm still not a huge baseball fan, especially when it was approximately 126* in Ranger stadium. So, I just had a great time taking pictures of the Sullivan family and the Chick-Fil-A cows!I seem to be having trouble with some of my posts. When I get back up and running, I'll post more pictures!
Friday
It's FRIDAY!
And more importantly -- it's PAYDAY!! And co-op (i.e., date night!!!) is tonight. And the DISH guy came and fixed our scrambled TV and I got a hair cut -- and so did Troy, come to think of it. Then I had lunch with my friend, Angela. It's a good day all around.
My favorite image of summer occurred yesterday -- Riley had seen some kids doing the same thing at our pool, so he decided that he, too, could act like a fountain. He scooped up a mouthful of water, struck a pose with one foot perched in the air, and spewed his pool water back into the pool. He did this several times, for the benefit of no one but himself, since he wasn't aware that I was watching. He got to where he had a sly grin on his face, thoroughly enjoying himself. Then he realized it's REALLY hard to spit water while you're laughing (he had totally cracked himself up -- he gets that from me). Then Ashley joined the fun and for approximately 7 blissful seconds we had a harmonious moment of being silly at the pool. Then, of course, the argument arose as to who was the best fountain. (they probably get that from me, but yeeesh). The moment was over. Of course, they did it for Troy last night and he had to point out exactly how dirty the water was. Killjoy.
I had to abort all other reading and tackle my new Janet Evanovich book, "Eleven on Top" and then on to "The Mermaid Chair" by Sue Monk Kidd (Secret Life of Bees author). I checked both of them out from the library last night and they're only 7 day check-outs. I love my Janet Evanovich book -- certainly a nice break from realistic fiction. It's realistic -- in that, it COULD happen -- but it wouldn't be nearly as funny as it is written if it did.
What are YOU doing for the 4th? I'm beginning to hate that question. I HAVE NO PLANS, I AM A LOSER WITH NO PLANS, OKAY???? There's an ice-cream supper at church on the 3rd, but that's as close as I am to any plans at all. The pool is having all sorts of races, etc. Riley absolutely doesn't want to go (doesn't want the embarassment of not winning a race and would rather just play in the pool anyway). Ashley will not live if we don't go (wants the two of us to win the mother/daughter raft race and earn lots of $$$ in the money dive). So I'm currently thinking -- I don't know.
Maybe I'll just stay home and blog about how we should all celebrate our independence through Christ everyday -- or maybe I'll just eat all of the leftover ice cream from church and take a nap.
My favorite image of summer occurred yesterday -- Riley had seen some kids doing the same thing at our pool, so he decided that he, too, could act like a fountain. He scooped up a mouthful of water, struck a pose with one foot perched in the air, and spewed his pool water back into the pool. He did this several times, for the benefit of no one but himself, since he wasn't aware that I was watching. He got to where he had a sly grin on his face, thoroughly enjoying himself. Then he realized it's REALLY hard to spit water while you're laughing (he had totally cracked himself up -- he gets that from me). Then Ashley joined the fun and for approximately 7 blissful seconds we had a harmonious moment of being silly at the pool. Then, of course, the argument arose as to who was the best fountain. (they probably get that from me, but yeeesh). The moment was over. Of course, they did it for Troy last night and he had to point out exactly how dirty the water was. Killjoy.
I had to abort all other reading and tackle my new Janet Evanovich book, "Eleven on Top" and then on to "The Mermaid Chair" by Sue Monk Kidd (Secret Life of Bees author). I checked both of them out from the library last night and they're only 7 day check-outs. I love my Janet Evanovich book -- certainly a nice break from realistic fiction. It's realistic -- in that, it COULD happen -- but it wouldn't be nearly as funny as it is written if it did.
What are YOU doing for the 4th? I'm beginning to hate that question. I HAVE NO PLANS, I AM A LOSER WITH NO PLANS, OKAY???? There's an ice-cream supper at church on the 3rd, but that's as close as I am to any plans at all. The pool is having all sorts of races, etc. Riley absolutely doesn't want to go (doesn't want the embarassment of not winning a race and would rather just play in the pool anyway). Ashley will not live if we don't go (wants the two of us to win the mother/daughter raft race and earn lots of $$$ in the money dive). So I'm currently thinking -- I don't know.
Maybe I'll just stay home and blog about how we should all celebrate our independence through Christ everyday -- or maybe I'll just eat all of the leftover ice cream from church and take a nap.
Thursday
Traveling Mercies
As you may have read in my earlier posts, I am currently reading 'Traveling Mercies' by Anne Lamott (and may have spelled 'traveling' incorrectly earlier!) I'm really enjoying it. She says that traveling mercies is "what they (the old people at her church) always say when one of us goes off for a while. Traveling mercies: love the journey, God is with you, come home safe and sound." Traveling mercies, indeed. I think that's what I was trying to express as my desire when I wrote "Missing the Forest for the Trees". I long to love the journey, know that God is with me and go Home safe and sound.
There are so many quotes in this book I have loved. Some of them deep and profound and some of them almost painfully irreverent (but so funny).
Everyone have a beautiful summer day -- traveling mercies.
There are so many quotes in this book I have loved. Some of them deep and profound and some of them almost painfully irreverent (but so funny).
"I always imagined when I was a kid that adults had some kind of inner toolbox, full of shiny tools: the saw of discernment, the hammer of wisdom, the sandpaper of patience. But then when I grew up I found that life handed you these rusty bent old tools -- friendships, prayer, conscience, honesty -- and said, Do the best you can with these, they will have to do. And mostly, against all odds, they're enough."
"I thought such awful thoughts that I cannot even say them out loud becaue they would make Jesus want to drink gin straight out of the cat dish."
"I was not wearing a cover-up, not even a T-shirt. I had decided I was going to take my thighs and butt with me proudly wherever I went. I decided, in fact, on the way to the beach that I would treat them as if they were beloved elderly aunties, the kind who did embarassing things at the beach, like roll their stockings into tubes around their ankles, but whom I was proud of because they were so great in every real and important way. So we walked along, the three of us, the aunties and I, to meet Sam and our friends in the sand. I imagined that I could feel the aunties beaming, as if they had been held captive in a dark closet too long, like Patty Hearst. Freed finally to stroll on a sandy Mexican beach: what a beautiful story."
Everyone have a beautiful summer day -- traveling mercies.
Tuesday
Happy Birthday, Troy!
Thirty-six years ago today God brought Troy Michael Stirman into the world. Linda would have told you it was quite a long, arduous trip for everyone. My favorite birthday song is from Karyn Henley:
Dear Special Friend,
It is your birthday,
It is the day that Jesus sent you to the earth.
And we rejoice
We come to celebrate
'Cause we love you and we thank Him for the blessing of your birth!
And Troy's birth is, indeed, a blessing. I am so thankful for him in so many ways. To many people we are simply "TroyandSarah" altogether -- a cute little couple that seems to have everything put together. The 'behind the scenes' of that is that we both have worked hard at our marriage, and I have been able to witness how hard Troy is willing to work for our marriage and to show me how valuable I am to him. I could go on and on about all of the things I love about Troy, but that would just show you how whacky I am. But I must touch on some highlights:
Troy is still willing to let God work on him. Troy has come a long way since I've known him (we both have) from believing he has all the answers to listening for God's guidance for the answers. I'm so thankful for how he has allowed God to work on his heart and continues to submit to His will.
Troy is a great daddy. The kids love his mere presence and he plays so hard with them. I'm so thankful for how he loves to be with them. He also is a fair and consistent disciplinarian. Far more than I am. He simply loves them too much to accept bad behavior.
Troy is a little kid when it comes to learning. Everything is exciting and interesting to him. Animals, space, geology, people, horticulture, and most of all, WORLD WAR II are all fascinating topics to him. I think that's why he's good at his job -- he can always find something that interests you that interests him, as well.
I have to stop now, simply for time. I'm so thankful for the man that my husband is, for his parents that raised him to be the man he is, and for God for leading me to him. Troy, I'm so glad you're on my trips around the sun! Happy Birthday!
Added later, as I remembered: Heard today of someone I know in Central Texas who is having to return to working full time now that "the baby" is going to Kindergarten. She REALLY doesn't want to, but her husband says they really need for her to work. Since they have that horse that they have to pay to stable and they have to pay for riding lessons for the oldest and tennis lessons for the youngest. Again -- I make no editorials, only know that I can't make it work for me to work full time. Thank you, Troy, for understanding that, above all, I feel called to make my family's life comfortable and supporting me in that.
Dear Special Friend,
It is your birthday,
It is the day that Jesus sent you to the earth.
And we rejoice
We come to celebrate
'Cause we love you and we thank Him for the blessing of your birth!
And Troy's birth is, indeed, a blessing. I am so thankful for him in so many ways. To many people we are simply "TroyandSarah" altogether -- a cute little couple that seems to have everything put together. The 'behind the scenes' of that is that we both have worked hard at our marriage, and I have been able to witness how hard Troy is willing to work for our marriage and to show me how valuable I am to him. I could go on and on about all of the things I love about Troy, but that would just show you how whacky I am. But I must touch on some highlights:
Troy is still willing to let God work on him. Troy has come a long way since I've known him (we both have) from believing he has all the answers to listening for God's guidance for the answers. I'm so thankful for how he has allowed God to work on his heart and continues to submit to His will.
Troy is a great daddy. The kids love his mere presence and he plays so hard with them. I'm so thankful for how he loves to be with them. He also is a fair and consistent disciplinarian. Far more than I am. He simply loves them too much to accept bad behavior.
Troy is a little kid when it comes to learning. Everything is exciting and interesting to him. Animals, space, geology, people, horticulture, and most of all, WORLD WAR II are all fascinating topics to him. I think that's why he's good at his job -- he can always find something that interests you that interests him, as well.
I have to stop now, simply for time. I'm so thankful for the man that my husband is, for his parents that raised him to be the man he is, and for God for leading me to him. Troy, I'm so glad you're on my trips around the sun! Happy Birthday!
Added later, as I remembered: Heard today of someone I know in Central Texas who is having to return to working full time now that "the baby" is going to Kindergarten. She REALLY doesn't want to, but her husband says they really need for her to work. Since they have that horse that they have to pay to stable and they have to pay for riding lessons for the oldest and tennis lessons for the youngest. Again -- I make no editorials, only know that I can't make it work for me to work full time. Thank you, Troy, for understanding that, above all, I feel called to make my family's life comfortable and supporting me in that.
Monday
Good Reads
June is coming to an end so summer is well underway. I have made quite a dent in my summer reading list, but with so much left to read! But I'll give you a brief review of what I've read so far. I'm debating on giving grades, or stars. I don't think that I can -- I have read such an eclectic mix of things that you can hardly compare one to the other.
The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold. I mentioned this earlier. A very dark novel, with a realistic look at what happens to a family after they experience a tragedy.
gods in Alabama by Joshilyn Jackson. One woman's journey home for the first time in years, facing all of the ghosts there. Again -- a little dark, and fairly realistic.
Outlander by Diana Gabaldon. Hard to describe. A woman accidentally 'falls' into 1743 from 1943. Initially about her struggle to get back to 1943, then her struggle about whether or not she WANTS to go back (can you say, 'indoor plumbing'? no question for Sarah!). A good book, but a detailed diary of almost a year of her life. Almost 700 pages. Carve out several weeks for it. It's the first in a series, I plan to tackle the others after I read a few more other things.
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling (duh!) For Harry Potter novices like myself, it's the first in this series, also. I drug myself to it kicking and screaming, insisting I don't like fantasy fiction. I have enjoyed it far more than I expected to and will finish this series, also (I'm #63 on the list of 'holds' for the new one coming out in July -- I should get it around November!)
The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd. See previous post. Starts off a little dark. You know, I guess as I quit reading Danielle Steele and other fluff, I have to grow up into realistic fiction. And pardon me for pointing out, but real life can be a real downer. This is set in the '60's in South Carolina and a white girl and her black housekeeper run away together. Great book, and should be read slowly and savored, not gobbled up as I tend to do.
Those are the ones I have finished, and have so many more that I can't wait to get to. I'm currently working on "Traveling Mercies" by Anne Lamott and so far it causes me to realize that when God knows that someone can be powerful for His Kingdom, He will pursue them relentlessly. Considering how she grew up, there is no reason for her to be a Christian -- other than the fact that God was pursuing her. I'm enjoying it so far -- to experience a faith awakening in someone who grew up the polar opposite of the family I grew up in.
Side note: Does anyone have any encouragement that my daughter will grow out of this severe 'tomboy' stage? I'm trying to be patient, but the latest fascination is to see who she can convince that she is a boy.
And the news from the home front is that Riley is trying to kill a roach that found it's way into my bathtub with my bath pillow. I'm sure the thought of that will cause me to have a most relaxing bath later.
The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold. I mentioned this earlier. A very dark novel, with a realistic look at what happens to a family after they experience a tragedy.
gods in Alabama by Joshilyn Jackson. One woman's journey home for the first time in years, facing all of the ghosts there. Again -- a little dark, and fairly realistic.
Outlander by Diana Gabaldon. Hard to describe. A woman accidentally 'falls' into 1743 from 1943. Initially about her struggle to get back to 1943, then her struggle about whether or not she WANTS to go back (can you say, 'indoor plumbing'? no question for Sarah!). A good book, but a detailed diary of almost a year of her life. Almost 700 pages. Carve out several weeks for it. It's the first in a series, I plan to tackle the others after I read a few more other things.
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling (duh!) For Harry Potter novices like myself, it's the first in this series, also. I drug myself to it kicking and screaming, insisting I don't like fantasy fiction. I have enjoyed it far more than I expected to and will finish this series, also (I'm #63 on the list of 'holds' for the new one coming out in July -- I should get it around November!)
The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd. See previous post. Starts off a little dark. You know, I guess as I quit reading Danielle Steele and other fluff, I have to grow up into realistic fiction. And pardon me for pointing out, but real life can be a real downer. This is set in the '60's in South Carolina and a white girl and her black housekeeper run away together. Great book, and should be read slowly and savored, not gobbled up as I tend to do.
Those are the ones I have finished, and have so many more that I can't wait to get to. I'm currently working on "Traveling Mercies" by Anne Lamott and so far it causes me to realize that when God knows that someone can be powerful for His Kingdom, He will pursue them relentlessly. Considering how she grew up, there is no reason for her to be a Christian -- other than the fact that God was pursuing her. I'm enjoying it so far -- to experience a faith awakening in someone who grew up the polar opposite of the family I grew up in.
Side note: Does anyone have any encouragement that my daughter will grow out of this severe 'tomboy' stage? I'm trying to be patient, but the latest fascination is to see who she can convince that she is a boy.
And the news from the home front is that Riley is trying to kill a roach that found it's way into my bathtub with my bath pillow. I'm sure the thought of that will cause me to have a most relaxing bath later.
Saturday
Missing the Forest for the Trees
I have thought about this phrase several times in the last week. The first time was as I was folding laundry and immediately started to gripe to myself about it. Then I considered the alternative: What if I didn't have anyone to wash clothes for? What if we didn't have too many clothes? What if they were all hospital gowns or sick robes? I began to consider that perhaps I'm missing the family and the blessings for the piles of dirty clothes and dirty dishes. I prayed that I may look at those minor tasks as part of a blessed life, and as a very small price to pay for living it.
Then today I realized that the current book I have been reading ("Secret Life of Bees") has gorgeous writing in it -- and I haven't been paying attention to it simply because I just want to know how the story ends! Some quotes I've loved:
"The month of August had turned into a griddle where the days just lay there and sizzled."
"In the photograph by my bed my mother is perpetually smiling on me. I guess I have forgiven us both, although sometimes in the night my dreams will take me back to the sadness, and I have to wake up and forgive us again."
And, because I love words of wisdom about dealing with people (thank you, Mike Riley), another favorite:
"I'd heard her say more than once, 'If you need something from somebody, always give that person a way to hand it to you.'"
These are all quotes from the last 20 pages. I missed all the other good quotes sprinkled throughout the book trying to find the ANSWER. I missed the good writing because I needed to know how it ended. Well, guess what, it's just like life -- it's not over because the main character is still alive.
I have always considered myself a patient person. Obviously, I have some none-too-stellar moments with my family, but I truly believed myself to be a patient person. I'm thinking now that I was wrong. I always want to be there -- where ever it is I'm going: the end of the book, the bottom of the pile of laundry, the next grade for my kids, a different stage of life. It occurred to me today that I'm missing the forest for the trees. Actually, I'm missing the trip. I've seen somewhere that one of the benefits to life on earth is that it includes a free trip around the sun every 365 days! I pray that I can learn to enjoy each step of the trip and to quit asking, "Am I there yet?"
Then today I realized that the current book I have been reading ("Secret Life of Bees") has gorgeous writing in it -- and I haven't been paying attention to it simply because I just want to know how the story ends! Some quotes I've loved:
"The month of August had turned into a griddle where the days just lay there and sizzled."
"In the photograph by my bed my mother is perpetually smiling on me. I guess I have forgiven us both, although sometimes in the night my dreams will take me back to the sadness, and I have to wake up and forgive us again."
And, because I love words of wisdom about dealing with people (thank you, Mike Riley), another favorite:
"I'd heard her say more than once, 'If you need something from somebody, always give that person a way to hand it to you.'"
These are all quotes from the last 20 pages. I missed all the other good quotes sprinkled throughout the book trying to find the ANSWER. I missed the good writing because I needed to know how it ended. Well, guess what, it's just like life -- it's not over because the main character is still alive.
I have always considered myself a patient person. Obviously, I have some none-too-stellar moments with my family, but I truly believed myself to be a patient person. I'm thinking now that I was wrong. I always want to be there -- where ever it is I'm going: the end of the book, the bottom of the pile of laundry, the next grade for my kids, a different stage of life. It occurred to me today that I'm missing the forest for the trees. Actually, I'm missing the trip. I've seen somewhere that one of the benefits to life on earth is that it includes a free trip around the sun every 365 days! I pray that I can learn to enjoy each step of the trip and to quit asking, "Am I there yet?"
Wednesday
For Your Morning
I discovered a DVD we had rented from Blockbuster that I thought I had already turned back in. It was due 2 days ago. Then I spilled Diet Coke on some papers I need for swim lessons and some really cute pictures that Mike (Troy's dad) took of Riley's baseball game. This was all before 5:30 a.m.
I saw a guy at my gym circling the parking lot looking for a parking place. He pays 40 bucks a month to work out and won't walk 20 extra feet to the door.
I had a great workout, though, and spent my running time in prayer. I prayed this for you today: Lord, lead my friend to love and embrace this healthy earthly shell you have chosen to wrap around her soul. Forgive us (me especially) when we criticize your workmanship in the form of our bodies. You didn't have to create us as whole and healthy, but you did, and may we always praise you for that.
I saw a guy at my gym circling the parking lot looking for a parking place. He pays 40 bucks a month to work out and won't walk 20 extra feet to the door.
I had a great workout, though, and spent my running time in prayer. I prayed this for you today: Lord, lead my friend to love and embrace this healthy earthly shell you have chosen to wrap around her soul. Forgive us (me especially) when we criticize your workmanship in the form of our bodies. You didn't have to create us as whole and healthy, but you did, and may we always praise you for that.
Tuesday
Happy First Day of Summer!
Did anyone really need a calendar to tell you that summer officially started today? If so, you are spending WAY too much time in your air-conditioned cocoon! Get to the pool! Which is precisely where we spent most of this day. I don't even think it got all the way to 100* today, though, so a fairly mild beginning to a west Texas summer.
Yesterday was Ashley's first day of softball camp. Do you remember the first moment in your life when you figured out that something that you believed yourself to be REALLY good at, there were other people better than you? Hard jolt of reality, no? Ashley is actually a beginner at softball and, according to her, the only one at her camp. There were lots of tears yesterday THEN she ended up dehydrated and sick last night after she spent all morning at camp and all afternoon at the pool. I confess to not being a stellar mother at that moment, after the 4 hours in the sun with no sunscreen fiasco of last week.
Today was a much better day. We all drank plenty of water, Ashley enjoyed her camp, I started a new set of private swim lessons with 2 precious little gals that are going to be so fun. I visited with friends at the pool (missed you, Tammy and Denise! :-( ) got dinner for the fam, then went to a dinner meeting. That was the most frustrating part of the day, but meetings are a necessary evil.
It's late and I will be working out EARLY tomorrow, but soon I need to tell you about our trip to Arlington last weekend to see the Rangers game. For me, the best part of the whole evening was sitting with Slade and Davalyn (sp?) Sullivan. Wonderfully nice people that I only see about twice a year at ACU functions. (It was an ACU Alumni gathering at the ballpark). And I have some precious pictures of their little guys that I need to share with you.
However, my travels did leave me with a new travel philosophy -- TRAVEL CHEAP! We stayed at the Whitten Inn -- they have one in Abilene and one in Arlington. They gave us the "Big Country Friends" discount of $55/ night (I love being a Big Country Friend!) So I have basically no expectations of this place other than hopefully a clean place to lay my head. Hoping there was at least a pool for the kids, we took our suits. Nice little pool in the shade. Wonder if there's a continental breakfast? Only about the best continental breakfast I've ever seen with lots of fresh fruit and healthy choices for me, and lots of waffles and syrup and junk for the kids! If we had stayed at a hotel for $200/night, we wouldn't have been able to get a plate of fruit for cheaper than $8. If you just need a place to put your head, go way cheap, have no expectations, and be pleasantly surprised!
Yesterday was Ashley's first day of softball camp. Do you remember the first moment in your life when you figured out that something that you believed yourself to be REALLY good at, there were other people better than you? Hard jolt of reality, no? Ashley is actually a beginner at softball and, according to her, the only one at her camp. There were lots of tears yesterday THEN she ended up dehydrated and sick last night after she spent all morning at camp and all afternoon at the pool. I confess to not being a stellar mother at that moment, after the 4 hours in the sun with no sunscreen fiasco of last week.
Today was a much better day. We all drank plenty of water, Ashley enjoyed her camp, I started a new set of private swim lessons with 2 precious little gals that are going to be so fun. I visited with friends at the pool (missed you, Tammy and Denise! :-( ) got dinner for the fam, then went to a dinner meeting. That was the most frustrating part of the day, but meetings are a necessary evil.
It's late and I will be working out EARLY tomorrow, but soon I need to tell you about our trip to Arlington last weekend to see the Rangers game. For me, the best part of the whole evening was sitting with Slade and Davalyn (sp?) Sullivan. Wonderfully nice people that I only see about twice a year at ACU functions. (It was an ACU Alumni gathering at the ballpark). And I have some precious pictures of their little guys that I need to share with you.
However, my travels did leave me with a new travel philosophy -- TRAVEL CHEAP! We stayed at the Whitten Inn -- they have one in Abilene and one in Arlington. They gave us the "Big Country Friends" discount of $55/ night (I love being a Big Country Friend!) So I have basically no expectations of this place other than hopefully a clean place to lay my head. Hoping there was at least a pool for the kids, we took our suits. Nice little pool in the shade. Wonder if there's a continental breakfast? Only about the best continental breakfast I've ever seen with lots of fresh fruit and healthy choices for me, and lots of waffles and syrup and junk for the kids! If we had stayed at a hotel for $200/night, we wouldn't have been able to get a plate of fruit for cheaper than $8. If you just need a place to put your head, go way cheap, have no expectations, and be pleasantly surprised!
Monday
More pondering. . .
This week Ashley is in softball camp. A few weeks ago, Riley was in basebal camp. As I ponder what they may or may not be active in later in school, I have some questions. Mainly -- why is it that a male sports team is the last place you will find a (openly) homosexual and a female sports team is the first place you will find a homosexual? I find that most curious.
Sunday
Faith of our Fathers
So many precious men have touched my life. One of them is sitting in his big ol' green chair waiting for me to come snuggle with him, but I need to pay honor where honor is due.
I'll start with the family patriarch, Poppa Max. That's my father's father. He has buried two wives, including my grandmother, and is currently married to Mrs. Marion. What a precious, precious man. Poppa Max lost his own father at a very early age and went from taking care of his own mother to his wife. I have always known him as the voice of calm. He's so many things I'm not and can only hope to be (including tall! :-) One of those things is sparing with his words. A deacon at the church where I grew up called him the "E.F. Hutton of Forsythe Avenue. When Max Riley speaks, people listen." He's also incredibly slow to anger. He has love for people so deep in his heart, anger does not come quickly to the surface. But a child at heart like you can't imagine. Not too many Thanksgivings ago -- I'm pretty sure it was within the last 9 years when I have had children -- I was thankful that I finally felt 'old enough' to sit in with the 'adults' and discuss the previous election and cholesterol levels. Poppa Max was nowhere to be found -- he was too busy playing hide and seek with the kids. I'm certain he had more fun than me that day. I could go on, but I'm so thankful for the family God placed me in and for Poppa Max.
My dad -- now known as 'Gran'dad' -- is a whole other ball of wax (and in a good way). He is different from his own father, but the love for other people is a commonality (actually, it all begins with a love of the Father that carries over to loving His children). My father taught me lots of little things about dealing with people. Most of them make good business sense ("The sound of someone's own name is the sweetest sound to their ears") and good people sense as well. My father has lived right there in Monroe, Louisiana for the last 56 of his 60 years. We can't go ANYWHERE in town that we don't see someone we know. I always notice -- people are always glad to run into my father. He'll say their name, remember important (to them) information about them, and wish them the best in their lives. I've been privileged to watch my father grow and mature in his own faith. He is a model for me to never quit growing closer to the Father, always know there is more to learn. One of the things my father said to me that I want to pass on to my children the most is when he verbalized to my brother and me: "There is nothing you can do to make me quit loving you." It made it easier for me to believe that my heavenly Father could say the same. How was I ever so blessed?
Then, there's my Troy. I don't know where to start or stop and perhaps it's the two above models that helped me to know what to look for in a man that would father my children. Troy, I have watched you, also, grow not only in your faith, but in your parenting as well (I certainly hope you can say the same for me -- I was not a model of much of anything in the diaper days). I'm so proud of the man you have allowed God to mold you into, I'm so thankful for your love and consistency with our children, and I love that you enjoy playing with them. If I had to choose all over again -- I would choose you.
I can't finish this without acknowledging the Father of us all. I'm so thankful for the countless blessings He pours into my life, including the 3 men mentioned here. I'm thankful for the unconditional love even though He's seen my ugly heart and knows my selfish wants. And there are no words (I'm doing that again) to thank Him for the blood sacrifice of His son that made it possible for me to look forward to seeing Him one day. Thank you, Lord, for sending your spirit into coaching us all into better parents.
A Father's Day honorable mention to Paul Benjamin, Tony Timms, David Mathews, David Jones, and Micah Harper as men who helped mold and shape my faith "back in the day". I have truly been abundantly blessed in my life with models of Godly men.
I'll start with the family patriarch, Poppa Max. That's my father's father. He has buried two wives, including my grandmother, and is currently married to Mrs. Marion. What a precious, precious man. Poppa Max lost his own father at a very early age and went from taking care of his own mother to his wife. I have always known him as the voice of calm. He's so many things I'm not and can only hope to be (including tall! :-) One of those things is sparing with his words. A deacon at the church where I grew up called him the "E.F. Hutton of Forsythe Avenue. When Max Riley speaks, people listen." He's also incredibly slow to anger. He has love for people so deep in his heart, anger does not come quickly to the surface. But a child at heart like you can't imagine. Not too many Thanksgivings ago -- I'm pretty sure it was within the last 9 years when I have had children -- I was thankful that I finally felt 'old enough' to sit in with the 'adults' and discuss the previous election and cholesterol levels. Poppa Max was nowhere to be found -- he was too busy playing hide and seek with the kids. I'm certain he had more fun than me that day. I could go on, but I'm so thankful for the family God placed me in and for Poppa Max.
My dad -- now known as 'Gran'dad' -- is a whole other ball of wax (and in a good way). He is different from his own father, but the love for other people is a commonality (actually, it all begins with a love of the Father that carries over to loving His children). My father taught me lots of little things about dealing with people. Most of them make good business sense ("The sound of someone's own name is the sweetest sound to their ears") and good people sense as well. My father has lived right there in Monroe, Louisiana for the last 56 of his 60 years. We can't go ANYWHERE in town that we don't see someone we know. I always notice -- people are always glad to run into my father. He'll say their name, remember important (to them) information about them, and wish them the best in their lives. I've been privileged to watch my father grow and mature in his own faith. He is a model for me to never quit growing closer to the Father, always know there is more to learn. One of the things my father said to me that I want to pass on to my children the most is when he verbalized to my brother and me: "There is nothing you can do to make me quit loving you." It made it easier for me to believe that my heavenly Father could say the same. How was I ever so blessed?
Then, there's my Troy. I don't know where to start or stop and perhaps it's the two above models that helped me to know what to look for in a man that would father my children. Troy, I have watched you, also, grow not only in your faith, but in your parenting as well (I certainly hope you can say the same for me -- I was not a model of much of anything in the diaper days). I'm so proud of the man you have allowed God to mold you into, I'm so thankful for your love and consistency with our children, and I love that you enjoy playing with them. If I had to choose all over again -- I would choose you.
I can't finish this without acknowledging the Father of us all. I'm so thankful for the countless blessings He pours into my life, including the 3 men mentioned here. I'm thankful for the unconditional love even though He's seen my ugly heart and knows my selfish wants. And there are no words (I'm doing that again) to thank Him for the blood sacrifice of His son that made it possible for me to look forward to seeing Him one day. Thank you, Lord, for sending your spirit into coaching us all into better parents.
A Father's Day honorable mention to Paul Benjamin, Tony Timms, David Mathews, David Jones, and Micah Harper as men who helped mold and shape my faith "back in the day". I have truly been abundantly blessed in my life with models of Godly men.
Tuesday
Words of Wisdom from Donna Leavelle
I hope you know my friend, Donna Leavelle. She's as much fun as your best girlfriend, dispenses wonderful advice like your mom or sister, and has more love than most grandmas. I've had the honor of knowing her for over 12 years and calling her friend for more than half of that. She does have children my age, so she's fairly free with the advice, and I'm always happy to hear it.
Last week was an irritating week. I started to say 'stressful', but irritating is more appropriate. I've had stressful weeks and this didn't really qualify. All of the irritations built up and piled on -- and Donna's words began to ring in my ears:
"If you have problems that money can solve, then you don't really have problems."
*whew* Good to know my irritations are not actual problems! But she's right. In the past month or two, I have prayed with a friend whose little boy had a tumor inside his head. I have hugged a widow and a young mother (2 different people) both of whom are experiencing grief and loss beyond what I can imagine. It is true -- I do not have real problems. I have irritations and, thank you, Lord, another paycheck or twelve will take care of it. I'm glad Donna is always willing to remind me!
But I'm irritated nonetheless, and fairly grouchy as my family can attest. Which brings me to my 2nd favorite quote of Donnas:
"Well, you've got the same britches to get happy in!"
I really love this one for several reasons. First of all, it always makes me laugh! But, it's really true, as well. The choice is mine. I have irritations in my life. I guess the only people who don't have passed from this life and are enjoying choir practice with the angels. I hope that I can one day learn to 'be happy in my britches' no matter the circumstances or irritations!
Donna, thanks for all of the advice, as well as the love with which it is dispensed! I want to be like you when I grow up!
With Troy out of town, the kids and I are having a 'sleepover'. We've already had our pizza and been to the swim club, so now we're going to watch a movie and pop popcorn. We'll blow up the air mattress and plop it in the middle of the living room (the danger in that is that there is an excellent chance it will still be in the middle of the living room when Troy gets home in 2 days!) It's just a fun thing to free me of being a mean ol' mom when I don't have back-up. Of course, it helps pass the time while he's gone, too.
Oh, and even though I got very little sleep last night, we all had a great day. God is good!
Last week was an irritating week. I started to say 'stressful', but irritating is more appropriate. I've had stressful weeks and this didn't really qualify. All of the irritations built up and piled on -- and Donna's words began to ring in my ears:
"If you have problems that money can solve, then you don't really have problems."
*whew* Good to know my irritations are not actual problems! But she's right. In the past month or two, I have prayed with a friend whose little boy had a tumor inside his head. I have hugged a widow and a young mother (2 different people) both of whom are experiencing grief and loss beyond what I can imagine. It is true -- I do not have real problems. I have irritations and, thank you, Lord, another paycheck or twelve will take care of it. I'm glad Donna is always willing to remind me!
But I'm irritated nonetheless, and fairly grouchy as my family can attest. Which brings me to my 2nd favorite quote of Donnas:
"Well, you've got the same britches to get happy in!"
I really love this one for several reasons. First of all, it always makes me laugh! But, it's really true, as well. The choice is mine. I have irritations in my life. I guess the only people who don't have passed from this life and are enjoying choir practice with the angels. I hope that I can one day learn to 'be happy in my britches' no matter the circumstances or irritations!
Donna, thanks for all of the advice, as well as the love with which it is dispensed! I want to be like you when I grow up!
With Troy out of town, the kids and I are having a 'sleepover'. We've already had our pizza and been to the swim club, so now we're going to watch a movie and pop popcorn. We'll blow up the air mattress and plop it in the middle of the living room (the danger in that is that there is an excellent chance it will still be in the middle of the living room when Troy gets home in 2 days!) It's just a fun thing to free me of being a mean ol' mom when I don't have back-up. Of course, it helps pass the time while he's gone, too.
Oh, and even though I got very little sleep last night, we all had a great day. God is good!
Monday
Welcome Back to Me!
Whew! My computer has been most ill with a virus! Special thanks to Jon Paul, our local computer guru! This is just a quick 'check-in' with those of you that actually read this from time to time. I've much running through my brain that I would love to share with you, but it's late, my husband isn't in town to yell at me to go to bed, and I have to be a single mom tomorrow (including working out AND teaching swimming lessons!) Check back with you soon!
To Ponder. . .
I find myself while writing notes, and sometimes even speaking, using phrases like, "words cannot express. . ." or "there are no words to say. . ." yet I keep on writing or keep on talking!
Sunday
I've Been Sniffed -- AGAIN!!!
If you don't know the original story of me being sniffed, I wrote about it in Aroma of Christ. I have to admit, it's much funnier than this morning, but this morning definitely took me aback!
First, allow me to point out that I have officially become my mother. Not that that's a bad thing. But in just the last year I believe I have officially cried through every worship service I have attended. I keep saying that my goal is to leave church in all of the make-up that I wore TO church, but I think I may as well give up on that. So, this morning I am singing and praising my little heart out, eyes closed, with my hands held out (at this point, Western Hills members and Forsythe members, they were still below my shoulders. Please do not dis-fellowship me! :-) Something that feels like a puppy nose is in my palm -- it's Ashley's nose, deep into my palm taking a long sniff. Then the comment: "Your hands smell like chocolate chip cookies." The moment was definitely over. I guess my Ocean Potion After Sun Aloe Vera lotion also has some vanilla in it, hence the bakery smell.
Thinking of becoming our parents -- one of my favorite lines from the sit-com "Friends" is when Rachel took Joey sailing and yelled at him about everything. When he finally confronted her about it, she was so deflated and replied, "You're right. I have become my father! I was trying so hard not to be my mother, I did not see that coming!"
Let's just all try to look like our Father!
First, allow me to point out that I have officially become my mother. Not that that's a bad thing. But in just the last year I believe I have officially cried through every worship service I have attended. I keep saying that my goal is to leave church in all of the make-up that I wore TO church, but I think I may as well give up on that. So, this morning I am singing and praising my little heart out, eyes closed, with my hands held out (at this point, Western Hills members and Forsythe members, they were still below my shoulders. Please do not dis-fellowship me! :-) Something that feels like a puppy nose is in my palm -- it's Ashley's nose, deep into my palm taking a long sniff. Then the comment: "Your hands smell like chocolate chip cookies." The moment was definitely over. I guess my Ocean Potion After Sun Aloe Vera lotion also has some vanilla in it, hence the bakery smell.
Thinking of becoming our parents -- one of my favorite lines from the sit-com "Friends" is when Rachel took Joey sailing and yelled at him about everything. When he finally confronted her about it, she was so deflated and replied, "You're right. I have become my father! I was trying so hard not to be my mother, I did not see that coming!"
Let's just all try to look like our Father!
Saturday
Saturday, June 4
"The secret to loving is living loved."
Max Lucado
A Love Worth Giving
I love this quote. It pretty much sums up what I've learned the hard way the last few years and why I'm probably not currently the most loving person on the planet. It goes with an analogy I read in the book "Tender Mercy for a Mother's Soul" by Angela Thomas Guffey. She talks of learning that as we let God's love fill us, that love can't help but splash and overflow on our families and the people around us. The secret is filling your cup first -- with His love. That's where I'm failing miserably lately. I'm trying to overflow love and peace from an empty cup -- which results in overflowing grouchiness and weariness. That's the hardest part, isn't it? All of my intuition is telling me to keep going, try harder, love harder, work more. The reality is that I need to STOP! Stop and be still. Be still and know. It's completely counter-intuitive (I love that phrase). Gwen Shamblin of "Weigh Down" calls it God's "Opposite World" -- and the first shall be last, etc. Opposite World, indeed, to stop and know His love when I don't feel that I have a molecule of love in me. I found a good spot to start, though -- I knew I HAD to get into His Word to know His love (just call me Captain Obvious). Always love the Psalms and read some of those, then headed to Ephesians. Oh, lots of proclamations of His love there!
1:5 In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with His pleasure and will.
God wanted me all along! He knows I'm grouchy and not loving, but He still wanted me from the beginning!
Paul prays for ME (or I like to think so, anyway) that (1:18,19) the "eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and his incomparably great power for us who believe."
And amen and amen! I get to share in a wonderful inheritance -- it's mine for the taking! Glory!
I'll quit preaching for now. (but only for the moment). This all reminds me of something everyone should read, mentioned previously: "Tender Mercy for a Mother's Soul" by Angela Thomas Guffy. I found her website here AND I know what you're thinking -- and it is NOT a 'fluff' book NOR a guilt book. Her write-up about it on her website says it talks about "soul care" (what I was alluding to above). As caregivers, we MUST be sure our soul is filled so that we may overflow with His love! It spoke to me, and if I had any idea who has my copy, I would read it again!
Max Lucado
A Love Worth Giving
I love this quote. It pretty much sums up what I've learned the hard way the last few years and why I'm probably not currently the most loving person on the planet. It goes with an analogy I read in the book "Tender Mercy for a Mother's Soul" by Angela Thomas Guffey. She talks of learning that as we let God's love fill us, that love can't help but splash and overflow on our families and the people around us. The secret is filling your cup first -- with His love. That's where I'm failing miserably lately. I'm trying to overflow love and peace from an empty cup -- which results in overflowing grouchiness and weariness. That's the hardest part, isn't it? All of my intuition is telling me to keep going, try harder, love harder, work more. The reality is that I need to STOP! Stop and be still. Be still and know. It's completely counter-intuitive (I love that phrase). Gwen Shamblin of "Weigh Down" calls it God's "Opposite World" -- and the first shall be last, etc. Opposite World, indeed, to stop and know His love when I don't feel that I have a molecule of love in me. I found a good spot to start, though -- I knew I HAD to get into His Word to know His love (just call me Captain Obvious). Always love the Psalms and read some of those, then headed to Ephesians. Oh, lots of proclamations of His love there!
1:5 In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with His pleasure and will.
God wanted me all along! He knows I'm grouchy and not loving, but He still wanted me from the beginning!
Paul prays for ME (or I like to think so, anyway) that (1:18,19) the "eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and his incomparably great power for us who believe."
And amen and amen! I get to share in a wonderful inheritance -- it's mine for the taking! Glory!
I'll quit preaching for now. (but only for the moment). This all reminds me of something everyone should read, mentioned previously: "Tender Mercy for a Mother's Soul" by Angela Thomas Guffy. I found her website here AND I know what you're thinking -- and it is NOT a 'fluff' book NOR a guilt book. Her write-up about it on her website says it talks about "soul care" (what I was alluding to above). As caregivers, we MUST be sure our soul is filled so that we may overflow with His love! It spoke to me, and if I had any idea who has my copy, I would read it again!
Friday
Coach Brady
As you have read about in many previous posts, this was Riley's first year to play baseball. Because God blessed us immensely with an incredible coach to have for Riley's first team sport experience, Riley had Brady Nichols for a coach. Those of you that are parents know that you can't thank or repay someone enough when they have loved and influenced your child. I tried to put into words how much it meant to our family. I'm sure I missed by a mile, but I put this in a frame for a gift for the end of season:
* Coach Brady changed the entire course of my family’s life.
Three months ago, we were your typical family going in too many directions. Baseball was starting, and it was just one more thing on our ‘to do’ list. I was very vocal about the fact that I find baseball as exciting as watching paint dry, and really prefer any sport that is played indoors since Abilene only has “too hot” and “too cold”, no “just right” in the weather department. We signed Riley up, hoping that enduring one season of baseball would convince all of us that it was not the sport for Stirmans. Coach Brady changed all of that.
* Coach Brady showed all of us that baseball is about so much more than baseball.
* Coach Brady showed us how powerful encouraging words can be.
* Coach Brady showed us all the power of applause, which is so much more powerful when critical words are left unspoken.
* Coach Brady showed us that words and actions that stem from God’s love are so much brighter and more powerful on a baseball field (or workplace, or playground) than trapped inside a church building.
* Coach Brady showed us that encouragement makes a player feel good, no matter which team they’re on. And, of course,
* Coach Brady’s precious wife, Mrs. Brooke, showed us all that sharing your family with others is a ministry in itself.
Neither Coach Brady nor any of my family can know where that influence will end. The Stirman family is on their way to being honest-to-goodness baseball fans (if we could fix that weather thing you would have me!) Riley has a love of a team sport, as well as a confidence that can’t be developed by parents alone. At the very least, Coach Brady has convinced one player to play Dixie Little League for next year. But more than likely, a coach is in the making. A little league coach that will pass along all of the “Principles of Coach Brady” to his little leaguers. That little team will know kind words, encouragement, and baseball – in that order. A generation away, children will be thrilled to be on the baseball field because Coach Brady and Mrs. Brooke donated their entire spring to little league.
* Coach Brady changed the entire course of our lives. I couldn’t be more thankful.
* Coach Brady changed the entire course of my family’s life.
Three months ago, we were your typical family going in too many directions. Baseball was starting, and it was just one more thing on our ‘to do’ list. I was very vocal about the fact that I find baseball as exciting as watching paint dry, and really prefer any sport that is played indoors since Abilene only has “too hot” and “too cold”, no “just right” in the weather department. We signed Riley up, hoping that enduring one season of baseball would convince all of us that it was not the sport for Stirmans. Coach Brady changed all of that.
* Coach Brady showed all of us that baseball is about so much more than baseball.
* Coach Brady showed us how powerful encouraging words can be.
* Coach Brady showed us all the power of applause, which is so much more powerful when critical words are left unspoken.
* Coach Brady showed us that words and actions that stem from God’s love are so much brighter and more powerful on a baseball field (or workplace, or playground) than trapped inside a church building.
* Coach Brady showed us that encouragement makes a player feel good, no matter which team they’re on. And, of course,
* Coach Brady’s precious wife, Mrs. Brooke, showed us all that sharing your family with others is a ministry in itself.
Neither Coach Brady nor any of my family can know where that influence will end. The Stirman family is on their way to being honest-to-goodness baseball fans (if we could fix that weather thing you would have me!) Riley has a love of a team sport, as well as a confidence that can’t be developed by parents alone. At the very least, Coach Brady has convinced one player to play Dixie Little League for next year. But more than likely, a coach is in the making. A little league coach that will pass along all of the “Principles of Coach Brady” to his little leaguers. That little team will know kind words, encouragement, and baseball – in that order. A generation away, children will be thrilled to be on the baseball field because Coach Brady and Mrs. Brooke donated their entire spring to little league.
* Coach Brady changed the entire course of our lives. I couldn’t be more thankful.
Tuesday
Tuesday, May 31
"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!
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!
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."
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