Memories Exploding Into My Thoughts

Today I came home from teaching the babies to swim. Since Riley was the only one at home, of course the TV was on (hate the thing, have I mentioned?). And, like any red-blooded male, he had it tuned to Mythbusters where they were, of course, trying to blow stuff up. Because, what good is Mythbusters if they aren't blowing stuff up. Better yet? When I first walked in, they were trying to blow up a bra! ("Epic fail," reported Riley.)

They put a soda can in a kiln (yes, an oven for baking pottery that bakes to thousands of degrees) to see if it would blow up. Guess what? It does! Whoo-Hoo! One for the Mythbuster exploding team!

Which, actually, took me back a little. I actually have a story in my past about exploding soda cans. I told it to Riley, and thought I would share it with you here. I'm inspired by Bob, who frequently writes things on his blog for the grandkids. And, coincidentally enough, the exploding sodas happened at Bob's parents' lake house, where I went with Bob's daughter, Julie. Julie and I were roommates for several years in college.

Have I already told this story on the blog? Oh, well... humor me.

So, as mentioned, Julie and I went out to her grandparent's lake house. I think it may have been Labor Day weekend. Not sure, but I do recall it was HOT. There was boating, there was game-playing, there was eating, there was general frivolity, but there was definitely heat.

I THINK that was the only time I went out to the lake house, so I guess we stayed a night, maybe 2? Julie's parents, Bob and Barbara, brought some "goodies" for Julie from a recent Sam's shopping trip. A few snacks, I'm sure, and a flat of Diet Cokes I definitely remember. Barbara knows how to speak love language: Diet Coke and children's books. Love it.

I don't recall at what point we put the flat of Diet Cokes in the back of Julie's little white Civic hatchback (with the "Howdy Honda" emblem on it that always made me laugh), but evidently long enough before we left for them to warm up considerably.

I guess we put them in, then loaded stuff, maybe ate lunch, said good-byes, took grandad's pulse (it was a family tradition), what-have-you... then climbed into the car for the trek over the bumpy gravel road before we would ever find pavement, sweet pavement.

We probably weren't 100 yards down the gravel road before we heard the absolute loudest POW.shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh you have ever heard. We thought the bumpy road had caused Julie to blow a tire.

"Should we turn around?" (I think we did at this point).

And again. POW.shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

"What in the WORLD???"

We were SCARED to death! It sounded like someone was shooting at us. It was SO loud, we had no idea what was going on. Every time there was a pop, we would scream, but since we weren't injured, or the car wasn't broken, we were just trying to get back to the lake house at this point. We were laughing, but quite a bit rattled, too.

I think the third POW.shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. is when my head was turned enough to see the Diet Coke geyser shooting up from the hatchback making the shhhhhhhhhh sound after the POW.

Ah. It all began to make sense now. But the sound still scared the bejabbers out of us every time it went off.

So, Bob and Barbara, and maybe even Julie's brother Rob, know that they have waved us farewell, sent us on our way, we made it about 1/4 mile away, turned around (at about 15 mph) and burst out of the car screaming and laughing and "get a towel" and "oh, my word!"

They were most bumfoozled by us, I'm sure. But probably no more than usual.

So, there is a little science project for you, boys and girls: soda cans + hot car + bumpy road = GREAT explosion. You have been warned.

One Year Ago Today....

(I received this phone call one year ago today. I can't help but remember, and celebrate the moment my life COULD have changed forever, and praise God that it was not. I'm especially mindful this year of those whose lives are changed in a blink. Hug and love on your family today. SS)

It was an ordinary day. Only it wasn't.

Our schedule was amazingly light. Even for summer, the kids and I have been busy rushing to teach swimming lessons that they also attend, or to basketball camp, or to summer track. This was the first day since school had been out that NONE of that was planned. I was on my way to the gym for the first time in weeks, then we would hit the pool and Ashley had youth group stuff in the evening. Nothing but F-U-N on the calendar (yes, I am one of those sickos that count going to the gym when I want as fun).

It was an ordinary day. Only it wasn't.

The call of 'Mom!' sounded not quite right just as I was on my way out the door to the gym. One look at Riley's face with the greenish tint to it let me know he really wasn't feeling well like he claimed. Was he only dehydrated (it is impossible to get that child to drink water) or was it worse? No gym for me...

It was an ordinary day. Only it wasn't.

It was the first day in at least a month that I was headache-free all day! My migraine battle has become a chronic headache battle. Headache free and at home? What shall I do? Yes, I even cleaned out some cabinets! Definitely NOT an ordinary day!

It was an ordinary day. Only it wasn't.

When it was determined that Riley would survive, I finished my cleaning area, and tried to get started on an article I have in the works. Hmmm. For some reason, no one wants to talk to me at 3:00 on a Friday afternoon. Maybe they have 'fun' on their calendar, too. I left messages all over town for folks to call me back, knowing I would need to actually call THEM back. Ashley, who had been wallowing all over the house telling me how BOOOORRRRRREEEDDDD she was, and I left to go run a few errands. Final stop? The grocery store since the cupboards were bare here.

It was an ordinary day. Only it wasn't.

Walking into the grocery store, my phone rang. It was an unrecognizable local number. Assuming it was a source for the article, and knowing I wasn't planning on conducting an interview in the produce section, I sent the call to voicemail. Ashley and I perused the produce for what was on sale and checked that against our list. We laughed over the twin babies that looked like little balding men. We sampled coffee cake. After about 10 minutes we made our way over to the bread aisle and I thought to check who that phone call was from.

There were 2 calls and 2 messages from that same number and a call and message from home. Hmmmm.... something must be up. I'm quick that way. I listened to the first message: "Sarah, you don't know me, but I'm with your husband. He's been in an accident. I think they are taking him to (name of hospital)." *click*

These thoughts went through my mind in the 3 seconds after I let out the involuntary audible gasp:
--Accident? But he was on his motorcycle today... that means...
--If I throw up right here, who will have to clean it up?
--Should I check out? I hate to leave all this here. But I don't have time to put it away at home...
--Should I take Ashley home? I may be at the hospital all night...
--Should I go get Riley? How bad will he look? Do the kids need to see their dad now?

Gathering my purse and recyclable bags(!) we hustled out of the store while I listened to the other two messages which, blessedly, had a little more information. Troy had been alert and able to dole out phone numbers. Riley manned the phone at home and relayed the info to me and seemed to be super great to stay put, so Ashley and I headed to the hospital.

It was an ordinary day. Only it wasn't.

Pulling into a parking spot at the hospital, a rescue helicopter was directly over my car about to land about 100 yards away. Seeing one of those helicopters always makes me think of my friend Trina. Almost 9 years ago she saw the helicopter carrying her Kelly land at the same hospital, then take right back off headed to a hospital that could potentially tend to his head injuries better. Kelly didn't make it. I always wonder whose life is changing forever when I see that helicopter. Was it my turn? If Troy was alert, he wasn't in that helicopter, was he? Was he? Where had the accident been? How fast would the vehicles have been going? My stomach rolled over again. It was dubious comfort to realize no one needed to clean up the parking lot of the hospital if I threw up there...

Hurrying into the ER I asked the first staff person I could find:
"I'm trying to get some information about my husband who was in a motorcycle accident?" "You'll have to go to registration."

"I'm trying to get some information about my husband who was in a motorcycle accident?" "They are just finishing up his paperwork right there," she said pointing to a paramedic and another registration lady.

"I'm trying to get some information about my husband who was in a motorcycle accident?" The female paramedic who had been working on the paperwork had her back to me and turned in such a way to KEEP her back to me and walked away. HELLO??? Can you just throw me a little information? Please?

Sign papers, get looked at disapprovingly for not having my insurance card, wait as she hustle-bustles back to find out about if we can see him or what and FINALLY takes us back.

Y'all for someone who had been hit by a moving motor vehicle and lay on the road waiting for the ambulance to get there, he looked amazingly good! I was too freaked out to take an iphone pic! He was strapped to the backboard, head taped in place, the whole 9 yards, but only complaining of his ankle hurting.

I could go on and on. The gist of it is this: I'm not sure the helicopter person made it. I saw lots of family shuffle back to a corner room, dazed and weepy. I was there with my husband who was in a motorcycle wreck and was going home that night with a broken ankle. How could we possibly be so blessed?

I'm still quite weepy and humbled to wonder why, in the blink of an eye, everything went right for us when they can go so horribly wrong for some wonderful people. But our hearts and mouths are full of praise for the outcome of what could have been awful.

I didn't sleep well that night. The simple joy of the weight of his arm across my stomach -- like it is every night -- , or the warmth of his chest against my back -- like it is every night -- , or his toes reaching out for my foot -- like they do every night -- were all such simple pleasures that I am so thankful for that I didn't want to miss any of it in slumber, nor could I unwind enough to let the day go.

It was an ordinary day. Only it wasn't.

I will praise you with the harp

for your faithfulness, O my God;

I will sing praise to you with the lyre,

O Holy One of Israel.

My lips will shout for joy

when I sing praise to you—

I, whom you have redeemed.

Psalms 71:22,23

Don't Be Fooled

I think I have alluded to this before, but as I have entered into the blog world again, (who knows for how long...) I feel it is worth saying again...

I have been guilty of reading a blog for months, perhaps even envying this seemingly perfect life the blogger has going for her, then she will up and confess that things have really been difficult at her house, and she has really been struggling with 'x', 'y', and/or 'z'...

"How can that be?" I'll wonder... "You've been here blogging all these great and wonderful things, some of them so funny and/or insightful. You can't be struggling."

Then the shoe will land on the other foot. Someone will tell me what an awesome marriage I seem to have, how great my kids must be, whatever. Um... of course. And, again, since I haven't been blogging this doesn't hold as much weight -- it could leave you to wonder where all I've been and if we are okay (if you have given us a second thought and honestly, I don't expect to cross your mind ever at all...).

When I do blog regularly, or facebook, or Twitter, or however else I communicate -- I will leave you with the impression that all is super-great with my family. And that is a delicate balance for me. If you know me even a very little bit, you will know that I am 100% about being authentic -- whether I know you virtually or really, I think you deserve to see and know who I really am, "warts and all" as it were.

However, my commitment to authenticity only goes as far as my obligation to my family -- not only to protect them physically, but to protect their spirits and hearts. I will not use the internet as a sounding board or a place to air our squabbles or vent about what's going on over here, or whose breathing is loudest, or who currently needs to curb the eye-rolling or whatever. Those things all blow over and get outgrown -- but float around the internet FOREVER. I won't do that to my family. If it's a funny story, I will check first. This story? (not mine) I never would have told on myself or my husband. But I HOPE she checked with him before she posted -- because it is HILARIOUS and allows us to see her as a real person.

So in the absence of turmoil, sometimes it appears that all is roses when we may or may not be shutting doors a little too firmly over here, and there may or may not be threats of no technology if the huffing and eye rolling doesn't stop. And... since I won't share family turmoil here... ummmmmmmm... maybe something funny will happy at swimming lessons that I can tell you, or perhaps you will suddenly develop an overzealous interest in my hip pain caused by walk/ running 11 miles.

So... check back later for warm fuzzies, maybe drama, and all manner of fun!

Training Tuesday

'kay. Well, I didn't immediately revisit my 11 miles, but since I did, in fact, post yesterday, I'm sure you gathered that I at least lived to tell about it. And live I did.

I'm learning lots about this ol' bod of mine -- more all the time. Sadly, most of it is stuff I KNOW -- stuff you know, too -- but am just too hard- headed to internalize and live out. For instance, I was better fueled and hydrated for this run, and felt energized, but unfortunately truly had the wrong equipment (shoes) for the distance I was going and am currently in worse shape than ever: stone bruises on my feet, hip trouble, etc. It has affected my training and I'm paying the price.

Ruthie, as mentioned, is training me. She is also gearing up to train some folks for the next half-marathon. The hook to this one, though, is that you can raise money/ awareness for a mission of your choice. Details are here. You can participate from anywhere on the planet -- as long as you can receive the training schedule via email. She isn't starting to train until July 12. I'll try to have a few thoughts along the way between now and then. But if you can go walk 2 or 3 miles right now, you can follow the training schedule and be ready for the half in October or November.

Why in heaven's name would I go through this? What in the world would possess me to torture myself so? Believe me, I have given up on running hundreds of times in my life. Evidently I've started it just one more time than that. Right before I left for my run Saturday morning, while munching on my bagel, I came across a blog that summed it up really well for me (this gal is HILARIOUS and I am currently way too tired to come anywhere close to being hilarious...) So, to explain me, and why I do this crazy thing, check out The Sport of Selfishness.

And, every once in a while, if you non-runners will indulge me, I would love to be able to process all that I'm learning here on the ol' blog. I don't know that I need another blog, but I need to think this through. It's a new thing for me, running consistently. And I want to stick with it.

For now, I am WIPED OUT. Summer only feels like summer temperature-wise. I have run kids and me back and forth and hither and yon today. Whew. Then, I act like it's summer at the end of the day and stay up too late, but still get up about 5:30 to run while it's still cool, or to attend a weights class at my gym before I teach swim lessons. Do you know what that makes me? Exhausted and grouchy!

So... I am off of here so that I may get in bed at a reasonable hour. And? A little 'ew' for your bloginess: I'm sitting outside at dusk/ evening. Troy is home more than usual these days, and the kids are out of school and, in short -- exercise endorphins only get me to dinner. So I am sitting outside blogging watching the stars come out and being completely consumed by mosquitoes. AND in trying to flick a bug off my computer screen? Yeah, I've gotta go get some screen cleaner.

Have a great Wednesday!!

Out of Seasoning

This verse hangs on my wall in my kitchen:

"Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone." Colossians 4:6

Indeed. Seasoned with salt.

The problem with that is the truth that Jesus speaks in Matthew 12:34:

"You brood of vipers, how can you who are evil say anything good? For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks."

And therein lies my problem...

Last night I said something (for about the 8 billionth time in my life) that I wish I hadn't. Mainly because it made me sound prideful and judgmental. Sitting there hating that I had said what I did, I began examining why I would say such a thing, and what the person must think of me... Well, she probably thinks I'm prideful and judgmental. And, were I to truly examine my heart? Well, let's just say that the truth hurts.

Oh, it would be so boring if the Lord ever ran out of things to work on me about. My pride will never be completely wrestled to the ground, this side of Heaven. I have to daily, sometimes hourly, pour His words and His truths into my heart to replace the pride that Satan whispers to me and I so readily believe. And pride is what hands me that judgment on a silver platter.

So, thanks be to Him, for one last promise/ thought/ verse:

"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness." Lamentations 3:22,23.

Ah, that is a refreshing piece of news to me! The Lord's compassions (some versions say 'mercies') are new every morning!! Today is a new day. Great is His faithfulness, indeed. Praying that TODAY, he will clean out the pride from all corners of my heart, keep my eyes from judgment, my mouth from impure words and talk, and that He will fill my heart with more of Him to share with others.

May you have a wonderful Monday, full of His mercies and compassion.

Summertime and the Livin' Is... CRAZY!

Hey, friends.

*sigh* Life is just craziness in so many ways. The BEST part of it? God is SO good and faithful through all of the craziness!

One thing going on (among a bazillion others) is that I am training for a half- marathon. I have been a bit on the down-low about that, on facebook or otherwise. Please hear this first and foremost: I AM NOT RUNNING THE ENTIRE HALF-MARATHON. I committed to it planning to walk the entire thing, then started running a few minutes of the training. I am currently walking 3 minutes, running 1.5-2 minutes.

I tell you this because I would LOVE any encouragement you have to offer. Tomorrow (Saturday) I am scheduled to do my longest training run yet (11 miles). Guess what? It's going to be STINKIN' hot, even early. And? by the way? That is a LONG way for this old body to go.

I did almost 9 a couple of weeks ago. And that was a long way to go, and I felt awful. I wasn't hydrated enough, and hadn't eaten right/ enough. It's a learning process, and as tough as it is, I'm enjoying what I'm learning. Did you know that this stuff we put in our bodies is meant to make us go, and go well?

This article talks about nutrition and what it means not only for your body, but for your brain now and in the future. I want my brain to still be going to good use in a few years, so I shall feed it well.

And Ruth, who is leading up the training for the half-marathon, tells her story of breaking her sugar addiction that started in childhood. The short answer is: keep starting over. I am currently eating more sugar than I was this time last year, but I try to get most of my sugar from fruits.

So -- that is a random "Cleft of the Rock" post. Not at all what you usually come here for, and not what I generally talk about, but what is currently going on in my life. And? I would love to hear about yours as well. What does summer find you doing? (I've got LOTS more summer talk, but this is it for now...)

Blessings to you all and happy Friday!

Prayers for a Military Family

I don't know Ashleigh personally, but I have introduced you to her here several times.

Ashleigh is a military wife, with two preschoolers, who dared to try to take said preschoolers on an overseas flight to meet her deployed husband in Germany when he got a few days off. Sounds daring, no? Can I tell you that her trip has already been a nightmare of epic proportions and she hasn't gotten out of the states yet?

Will you please say a brief prayer that this trip go through? It's the least we all can do at the end of this week that we honored our military men who have given sacrificially.

Good Things Out There

LOVE this way to recycle an old sweater. I doubt I'll ever do it for me, but would someone make me one, please?

I really like the thought and individualization put into each friend's birthday and gift. Very sweet.

Very detailed tutorial about color splashing your digital pics. I think even I could do this!

Another great inexpensive and recycling idea for clothing -- that I would probably never take the time to do.

Amanda has done it again. If you only read one thing today: READ THIS. No kidding.

Listening to a great series from Andy Stanley out of Northpoint. The one that I listened to most recently opened with this testimony. Very powerful.

If you would like to add your 'Good Thing' button to your blog, copy the code into an 'HTML' box on your sidebar:

<a border="0" href="http://www.sarahstirman.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o397/SarahSti/blogbuttongoodthing-Page002.jpg" /></a>

Typical

Any morning, our house.

Riley dousing his frozen waffles in syrup.

"I'm going to drown my sorrows in syrup."

Me: "Riley, you don't have any sorrows."

Riley: "No, but I do have syrup."

Sponsors

originally in Abilene Families

I have recently graduated to a new phase of parenthood. I am learning that parents in this phase are easily identified by blood-shot eyes punctuated with dark circles underneath, death grip on a cup of coffee, sensible shoes, and even a fanny pack for the die-hards. Yes, we are the sponsors for the overnight events when your teen travels.

It doesn’t matter if it’s for a church event, sports, band, choir, drama, FFA, or any of a million other activities that may require competition or conferences for teens, we all look and behave the same.

We are the parents traveling on buses that smell like diesel or in vans the size of a roller skate, eating food that tastes like the styrofoam packaging it comes in, popping ibuprofen like Pez, and breaking up fights and overly intimate teenagers all in the name of social responsibility... or sheer insanity.

These are the people who willingly give up a weekend or vacation time to ride on buses or vans. Occasionally they stand on the side of the road entertaining teens while a mechanic works on the bus or van, or they help to change the flat tire. The sponsor thinks the trip is luxurious if sleeping accommodations are under a roof and no sleeping bags are required.

These people get sucked into teen drama not of their own family, offer a shoulder for the latest break-up gone bad or when the competition goes awry, and cheer like nobody’s business during competition, even when it garners wave-away hands and eye rolls from the very teen that caused the sponsor to be on the trip in the first place.

Of course there are fun times. There may be an amusement park in July or camping in August, or a ski trip in February, whether or not snow has fallen that winter. I confess I walked on the beach on South Padre last summer as a sponsor, but never got in water deeper than my ankles since I was holding 4 cameras, 3 phones, and 2 pairs of shoes of kids who were in the water.

After a typical trip I return home to mounds of laundry from our suitcases as well as mounds of laundry and dishes from those left behind. I’m several pounds heavier from eating cold pizza and drinking warm soda late at night for dinner for a meal or two, wondering why the miles of walking didn’t seem to cancel out those calories.

I’m in desperate need of a trip to the salon for a massage from the bus trip and sleeping arrangements, as well as to cover all the new grays that have sprouted. I generally spend the first day or two at home in bed with a migraine from being sleep deprived.

But then I hear those precious words from my child that make it all worth it: “Mom, I need money for the band trip to Six Flags. You aren’t going, are you?”

Testing God -- in a Good Way

Sometimes social media is too much for me. Too much pain, too much suffering, too much information, just too much. That's one reason I have started having my weekly technology sabbath -- on Sundays I take a break from computers and cell phones to shut down and spend time with the Lord and renew.

Facebook has reconnected me with people that I love, and connected me with people I have never actually met but have now come to love. Each of them has hurts and concerns and struggles and prayer needs that they share. Sometimes I am BURDENED with those -- my heart aches for those of you that hurt, and I do pray fervently for each of those.

One thing that social media has brought to my attention that I can't get out of my head via Trey Morgan is the people (okay, really it's the children that haunt me) of Honduras that live at the dump -- because that's where they can find some food. Last December when Trey was in Honduras, his mission team had a banquet for these people -- at the dump. (Seriously, you HAVE to see that blog post. I dare you).

So May 5th, Trey celebrated Dump Day. He raises money for those people to get them fed and have clean water as much as possible throughout the year. This was the 2nd annual Dump Day and Trey was hoping for at least as much response as last year ($12,000). Trey has confessed that his faith was too small -- and I am so thrilled to have been able to witness what God did through the power of social media and generous people around the globe. Just WOW.

If you are moved to still give to this worthwhile project, you can find out how here.

Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this,” says the Lord Almighty, “and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it. Malachi 3:9

Teacher Appreciation

This month includes teacher appreciation week. Every year I promise myself that starting in April I will get all of my ducks in a row and do something excessively wonderful for all of my children's teachers. And every April looks just like the last where I finish out the month with disheveled hair and wild eyes screaming, "What was THAT??"

I rarely do anything excessively wonderful for my children's teachers but I do appreciate them.

I always tell people that my philosophy on choosing how to educate your children (public, private, or home) is to do it prayerfully and carefully, and be willing to admit at any moment that it is no longer working for your family and change gears.

Thus far, we have been in public schools. Thus far, I still cannot believe how blessed my children have been with teachers and administrators. I do not request or choose teachers for my children, I pray and let the One who knit them and knew them before I did choose my children's teachers for them. He has never failed.

Yes, my children are my responsibility. Beyond my responsibility, they are little pieces of my heart out walking around on this planet. But research tells us that the more adults my children have that take an interest in their lives and have a relationship with my children, the more successful they will be in all areas of life. My children's teachers have not disappointed.

To you, precious people, words are not enough. How do you say 'thank you for being a brush stroke and background lighting for this masterpiece of a human'? How can I tell each of you that your delight in my child's successes fanned into flame a passion that will carry them into adulthood? You have pointed out strengths and pushed them along and kept them from doing 'just enough'.

None of you have let my children blend into the background. You have encouraged and cheered, praised and prodded, expected the best and never accepted the worst.

I have done your job. That is why I am now not doing your job. It is NOT for the faint of heart (or weary of foot). It is for people with tender hearts, thick skin, and a million hugging arms. It is for people with cast iron stomachs, bladders of elastic, and Solomon's wisdom.

I know that by this time of year you don't want to be appreciated by any way other than a day away from these people and you wonder if you would actually come back. But for some crazy reason, back you come. Sometimes you wonder if it's just your car coming out of habit.

Even at middle school level, you wouldn't believe how much I hear about you and how you touch my child's life and shape their values by what you find funny, the way you treat other students, and even the music played in your class; how your sad days will make my tender-hearted child's heart ache until you are smiling again.

You live in my neighborhood, worship at our church, exercise at my gym, shop at my grocery store. We see you and feel like a part of your life. You are a beloved part of my family, but not the crazy faction that we try to abstain from visiting. And I am part of yours -- if for no other reason than the fact that you have given your all to my children and there is little of you left by the end of the day. Thank you, and thank your family for us, too.

I can't say thank you enough or adequately. But I do thank you, and pray frequently for you. This time of year, my prayer is "strength for the journey". May you truly have strength for your journey, and countless blessings in your life for the blessing you are in mine.

I thank my God every time I remember you. Philippians 1:3

(check out this post for some PRAY-shus teacher gift ideas that I won't be doing)

Book Review: Fearless

I confess that my reading has gone a little bit the way of my blogging (truly, what HAVE I been doing??? Not mopping, that's for sure!) But I have read a few really good reads that I need to tell you about here.

One such book is Fearless by Max Lucado. Written in typical Lucado-style (easy, conversational), Fearless approaches the most frequently given command in scripture: "Do not fear." Lucado combines scripture, personal confession, and antecdotes from history to tell how we can approach life fearlessly -- how God would have it.

Some favorite quotes:

"Fear may fill our world, but it doesn't have to fill our hearts. It will always knock on the door. Just don't invite it in for dinner."

"Fear corrodes our confidence in God's goodness."

"The worship of safety emasculates greatness."

"The abundance of possessions has a way of eclipsing God, no matter how meager those possessions may be."

I do confess that about half-way through the book, I lost interest for a time. I wanted to turn to Max and say... "Okay, I get it. Live fearlessly. Don't fear. Got it. Check. Move on." Because, of course, if you write an entire book about living fearlessly, some of it may get to be a little redundant. However, I plugged ahead out of... duty or something. And was rewarded by my favorite part of the book that is in the last chapter or two of the book. A very good insight about how this life simply doesn't compare to the next. And one I need to hear... every hour of every day. Yes, of course, Max reminded us of 2 Corinthians 4:17: For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.

Amen and amen.

And... as to the "redundant" part -- well, if God thinks it was necessary to remind us again and again and AGAIN "Do not fear" -- we probably need the reminder more than once.

Do not fear.

All in all, I would recommend Fearless. It would probably do well for a group study, but I would imagine that would get bogged down and/or redundant, as well.

Mom's Day Off

originally in Abilene Families

An intruding hand poked into the warm sanctuary of my bed.

“Are you getting up, or are you sick?”

Ugh. Didn’t I tell them it was my day off? Since those are about as common as leap years around here, I’m sure more explanation was necessary.

I crawled out enough to glance at the clock. 6:50. I’ve usually been up for well over an hour by now, and I was planning on getting up at 7 anyway.

“No, I’m fine. I was just sleeping in a little today. I’m getting up now.”

The holidays are hectic for everyone but my family usually has a blissful ‘time out’ period when all outside activities cease and we spend our time with only family for a few days, resting and regrouping.

This year was a little different. I took on more writing assignments than usual and had several deadlines looming right after the holidays. I was thankful for the work and the confidence my clients entrusted to me, but by the end of January I really began to lose steam. I realized I was due a mom’s time out.

I would love to tell you that the realization that a day off was necessary came as a gentle decision made with forethought for my mental health. However, the need was made obvious when my husband asked for help with a simple task and I dissolved into a pile of tears on the floor. It was past time for me to have a day off.

I began clearing my calendar and finding a spot for a day of respite. Of course it was eight days after my nuclear reactor level meltdown, but I was still in need. I told writing clients that I would be unavailable that day. I rescheduled a child’s orthodontist appointment. I became giddy at the thought.

I crawled out from under the covers, still anticipating the day in front of me. I have been known to take a day off to get things checked off my list. I have taken a day to spend time organizing my life and setting our family in order. My only order of business for this particular day was to simply rest and relax. If I wanted to, I would; If I felt like I had to, I wouldn’t.

I went about my morning with my family as usual, getting everyone off to school and work. Then... I stood. Frozen in the middle of my living room as if my feet had taken root. I found that I had absolutely no idea what I should do to relax.

Ummm... I think I used to read books? Okay, let’s try that. Yes, I shall read. But first, I should... No. No “I should’s” allowed. That went on for an embarrassing amount of time while I debated starting a load of laundry or making an appointment for a family member.

I finally decided not to even start down the road of “just this one thing” that I could do that was productive.

Today, rest would be productive.

I grabbed a book, snuggled back into bed, and read. And napped. I watched a few moments of TV, then decided that wasn’t relaxing, so I found a different book. And napped again. Yes, I turned into your average sloth. And it was quite enjoyable.

My day off was a success but far too short. Life cranked back up to full speed immediately, but I learned that life could survive without me for a day. I also found that it’s possible to stop and take some time for myself along the way before I crash into the carpet. If that doesn’t work, I’m calling in sick.

Mom? I'm Bored

originally in Abilene Families

I was in the shower. Alone, as tends to be my practice. So a child wandered into the bathroom, of course. Does anyone remember back before they had kids when a bathroom was a sanctuary instead of a thoroughfare? Me neither.

“Mom? I’m bored...”

This was the first day of spring, the last day of spring break. Yeah, the day it snowed? That one. When we had all had all the fun with each other we could stand and couldn’t go outside. I could understand the boredom, but did I mention I was in the shower?

Hmmmm.... I would have to think on this one. Since I didn’t bring my “Bag-o-Entertainment” into the shower with me, I called out ideas:

“You could fold the clothes in the dryer!”

“What about picking up all those things off the floor of your room?”

“I’ve got it! You could write a 500-word essay on how my mom made my spring break the awesomest ever!” (My kids are accustomed to their writer mom using invented words such as “ridonkulous” or “awesomest”. Do not attempt until your children know the difference).

I couldn’t see the accompanying eye roll, but the child did wander away. Hoping for less sarcasm, I presume, though I was perfectly serious with all of those options as something to do.

When the kids were younger I had an “I’m Bored” jar. It had slips of paper in it with different activities on each slip of paper. Some of the activities may be a fun idea: “Build a fort with the covers from your bed,” “Draw a picture for Nonna and Grandad,” or “Play hopscotch with Mom.”

However, some of the activities weren’t so fun: “Clean windows for 10 minutes,” “Give the dog a bath,” or “Clean out a dresser drawer”. So, it was a gamble to draw from the jar -- would it be something fun or not? A job or a joy? (A funny side note: in asking my kids about their memory of this jar, they did not believe that I had any fun things in the jar, only jobs).

I found out which of my children will lose their shirts in Vegas as an adult, and which of the two isn’t willing to risk anything. Oh, don’t act as if you don’t want to encourage gambling in your children. I’ve seen you at Gatti’s.

One of my children never tried. One of them tried a few times, though I kept the jar on a shelf for a year or two. If nothing else, it kept the complaints to a minimum. Rather than complain to me and be threatened with drawing from the jar that I now realize they thought only contained jobs, they went off and found something to do that entertained themselves. I guess in that regard it promoted creativity, as well.

Perhaps it’s time for a teen version of the “I’m Bored” jar. However, most of the jobs my kids are capable of doing, they already do. Some fall into the “you live here, eat my food, wear my clothes, and use my gasoline so I expect you to do that” category, and a few are the “I’ll pay you ‘x’ for doing this” category. For those that I’ll pay them to do, I can’t afford to have them draw out of the job jar every time they get bored.

But who really has time to be bored anyway? What with all the texting, Facebooking, and I-have-to-be-there-5-minutes-ago going on. And soon (oh, all too soon) it will be friends picking up in the car going here and there, hither and yon. I’m not sure I’m ready for that, either.

Perhaps I will make myself a prayer jar, full to overflowing, with the prayers of a momma who realizes that these babies were never really hers to keep anyway. And, eventually, perhaps I shall shower in peace, as well.

Marriage Monday: Just Joking!

I really don't enjoy practical jokes. That may baffle you, because I see humor in pretty much every situation, but I really don't like practical jokes, whether they are being played on me or other people. As you might imagine, April 1st really isn't fun for me, either.

I caught a few minutes of America's Funniest Home Videos last night and a few of the videos were of people giving their friends, family, or spouses fake lottery tickets, causing them to believe they had won $10,000. How mean!

It made me think two things:

1) Troy would think that was SO funny to do to someone.

2) He would never do that to me.

Troy used to play jokes on me, but he saw that I don't like them, so he stopped. I have a seen a few mean spirited husbands (and even dads, which makes me really sad) that know that their spouses or children hate jokes like that, but take great joy in continuing to play jokes on their spouse. It just made me appreciate that, though I never once asked Troy to never again do that to me, he saw that I didn't like it, and stopped.

It's not like I asked him to give up his shotgun collection (gasp!!) or to never play a joke on anyone again (he still has his moments).

I wonder if I have been as sensitive to him about not doing something that bugs him (leaving shoes in the MIDDLE of the floor... ugh... not so much). I may have some work to do.

I'm so very thankful for the man I married and the way he takes care of me -- even the little things that matter to me.

Sabbath

Back when I took some Sabbath time for myself from blogging, I began to actually research 'Sabbath'. I came across a book on Sabbath in the bargain bin that I have really enjoyed, and I began to really notice times of rest in scripture and what people (especially Jesus) did for times of rest.

Something that the book pointed out is that, obviously, prior to electricity, the seasons and the rising and setting of the sun dictated natural times of rest. She quoted the National Sleep Foundation as saying that prior to the invention of the lightbulb, people slept an average of ten hours a night. By 2002, Americans were averaging a little less than seven hours of sleep on weeknights and 7.5 hours on weekends.

You may think you can get by with 6 hours or less during the week. First, you can't. You have adapted to walking around in a sleep deprived state. Some people do need less sleep than others, but people do need at least 7.5 hours per night. Your health, work, focus, and attitude (and family) will all thank you.

I am one of those fortunate(?) people who has always known that sleep is important to me. I can feel myself crashing when I don't get enough. I feel like I walk through molasses all day. I feel crummy. And, if that weren't enough, it's a migraine trigger. Sleep is no longer just a guilty pleasure for me -- it's a big deal to my health.

Studies show that you actually are walking through molasses -- your metabolism slows down, too. Sleep deprivation causes weight gain and better yet, plenty of sleep can lead to weight loss.

And? I can just be nicer when I have enough sleep. Can anyone relate?

Obviously, Sabbath isn't only about sleep -- but it's a great place to start. Last week I began to implement two hard and fast rules in my life. They sound pretty selfish, or maybe 'lowest common denominator' -- but that's kind of the point. Because I have found that if I will do these two things, many of the rest of life will fall into place.

Sarah's Current Rules for Sanity:

-- Get plenty of sleep EVERY night (not just on weekends)

-- Spend time with Jesus EVERY day

The end. I have a number for me that is "plenty" and it's kind of embarrassingly high. But I have found that I am getting just as much done as before -- I'm just doing it a little nicer, and with a better attitude.

So, for the stressed out and strung out, I pray that you implement some Sabbath in your life.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30

Back Today

Ahem.

Allow me to introduce myself.

I'm Sarah.

I REALLY like to write! I do, I promise!

I have missed it so!

I have figured out a way to make this thing work and get some blogging done on the side, too.

I really miss doing this, too. We used to be peeps, remember? We used to exchange ideas, we were all about fitness and fun. Never fashion, that I recall, though. Do you? Occasionally recipes, maybe.

And the fits that the word 'occasionally' has given me tells me that there was probably a time that I could spell, too -- but just not in the recent past.

Here's a tip for you: did you know that doing two part-time jobs is really more difficult than doing one full-time job? It's true. It can lead to much crazy-making and maybe even some tears in your home. I'm not sure I recommend it. Yet I cling fiercely to my writing, and am seeing what becomes of my "real" part-time job, that, as far as I can tell, is meetings. I can do meetings with the best of them.

One way to make some blogging time work is that the orthodontist now has wifi. How awesome is he? All that money going for good use! It's about time.

So... I'm not going to overdo it today, but I promise that I will be back. And soon! You doubt, don't you? I know, I don't blame you. But I shall return. Until then, I leave you with the verses I have been starting my day with lately:

Taste and see that the Lord is good;

blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.

Fear the Lord, you his saints,

for those who fear him lack nothing. Psalm 34:8,9

God's Economy

I have heard the phrase "God's Economy" many times lately, and have always liked it in the context it has been used. The first was someone telling me that God had revealed to her "Time is never wasted in God's economy." When we feel like we are in a waiting place or a useless place, God is at work. Hmmm...

But economy-economy? Dollars and cents? Yeah, it isn't going super-great in this corner of the universe if you haven't noticed. I, as mentioned, have recently gone to work to try to help make ends meet around here. So the ends keep moving. Or fraying. And we seem to -- financially -- be further behind than we were when I started work. In the 6 weeks I have been working we have had one unexpected flight out of state to a funeral, one major car repair, and are now facing another almost-major car repair. I'm not sure we can afford for me to work another 6 weeks.

God, as is His way, put things in perspective recently. First, a dear friend that Troy grew up -- that he considers his sister, really -- was just last week cleared for the heart transplant list. She JUST turned 42. Over the weekend our family traveled to central Texas to a fundraiser for her. So, the thought that we were all healthy and whole and in one piece is a helpful reminder that all is well -- though I had one of the overall crummiest weeks I've had in a LONG time last week.

Then, once we got to the fundraiser, I had opportunity to visit with some dear friends. We were discussing my writing, my ministry, etc. I told them this, basically:

"I consider getting better paying jobs or something that brings in a little more money, but I am committed to staying true to what God has called me to do with writing and speaking. God continues to show me the riches and blessings to be found in doing what He has called you to do."

I don't tell you that to pat myself on the back for a noble view -- I put that here for my own benefit. I put that here because I will need to be reminded frequently. I do believe that with all that is in me, but when actual dollars are needed to put gas in the car and clothes on my kids (why, why, WHY do they keep growing AND eating???) and utilities in my home I confess that I forget. I forget that He has us in His palm, needing no dollars for His will and His plan to be complete and perfect in us.

So, please remind me frequently of God's economy, and what a precious and wonderful blessing of riches it is.

Good Things Out There

Ashleigh is a sometimes (or used to be, probably) reader of this blog. Her marine recently deployed. She walks us through what deployment means for the family. Go read this. Then go thank a soldier. And his family.

A very good lesson on mental clutter.

Another show of above-the-top sportsmanship by young people. Very proud of these young ladies.

The youth minister at a church where I used to worship posted some excellent advice for parents with teens in the home. A must read.

VERY cute switchplate cover idea -- super easy and a hit in any kids' room!