Sunday
Inspiration for Sunday
The video is a wee bit long, but what else will you do on a holiday weekend? Worth your time:
Saturday
Pics To Snag
Hey, y'all! I'm actually back again, but not for long today!
We are on our way out of town to a wedding (outdoors -URG. Bless the bride. She's been planning it almost a year. She had no way of knowing this would be the hottest summer in 30 years).
I love that our family called friends to stay with (for free) so that we can afford for our dog to stay at her $25/ night Bed and Breakfast. Sheesh. Of course, they won't let us pick her up late Sunday afternoon OR Monday, so a one night trip is costing us $75 for her. Good thing we like her.
One thing I'm going to work on while we go is my list of pics to take for the month -- an idea that I got from this site.
Sad, but true, that I have to make myself a list, but I am not naturally a picture taker ... unless I see something fascinating like this, of course:
But my family? Not so much. So this web site encouraged you to make a list of 10 pics to take per month (to give you an idea, for September it recommended "leaves changing color" and "Family in sweaters" -- neither of which will happen in this state). So I'm working on my own list of "must-have pics for September" today.
If you would like to print out your own handy list, go here. I would love to get some ideas of what you come up with! What is a must-have September picture for you?
We are on our way out of town to a wedding (outdoors -URG. Bless the bride. She's been planning it almost a year. She had no way of knowing this would be the hottest summer in 30 years).
I love that our family called friends to stay with (for free) so that we can afford for our dog to stay at her $25/ night Bed and Breakfast. Sheesh. Of course, they won't let us pick her up late Sunday afternoon OR Monday, so a one night trip is costing us $75 for her. Good thing we like her.
One thing I'm going to work on while we go is my list of pics to take for the month -- an idea that I got from this site.
Sad, but true, that I have to make myself a list, but I am not naturally a picture taker ... unless I see something fascinating like this, of course:
But my family? Not so much. So this web site encouraged you to make a list of 10 pics to take per month (to give you an idea, for September it recommended "leaves changing color" and "Family in sweaters" -- neither of which will happen in this state). So I'm working on my own list of "must-have pics for September" today.
If you would like to print out your own handy list, go here. I would love to get some ideas of what you come up with! What is a must-have September picture for you?
Friday
It's Friday! It's Friday! Gotta Write A Blog On Friday!
Everyone read the title -- and sing along. And let it get stuck in YOUR head, too! Since I have teenagers, SOMEONE has to sing it every week. Now they're gone and it's stuck in my head. I may have to turn on The Wiggles or something just to cleanse my head!
So, football discussion about why there was no "WooHoo": a)this was our only Thursday night game. Probably because we have to share a stadium -- but there are two stadiums in town (but 7 high schools!) b)we were a home game, but still no pep rally. Maybe for district games?
Someone commented on Facebook that she had always suspected that football was a "small town" thing -- because big city had so many other things to do. That's a possibility, of course -- and this city, as mentioned, has too many schools for all of us to throw our allegiance behind one school, so it's less of a big deal that way.
Something else I considered as I sat there last night -- other than noticing that red face paint is a REALLY bad idea if you want it to come off before graduation -- is that this high school is only 7 years old. Everywhere else I've lived in Texas the football program has been legendary. None of these high school kids grew up with a little cheerleader uniform or football jersey or tiny football from this school because this school didn't exist until they were in elementary school. They didn't grow up looking at annuals of their parents at this high school, or go trick or treating in their parents sports uniforms.
However, I will say that the stands were relatively full last night for a Thursday night game, it was pretty fun, our little team did okay, the band did great, and a grand time was had by all.
Um, yeah. We got that clarinet for free when she was going into 6th grade. She wasn't planning on playing in high school, so it was a win. She literally decided the last week of 8th grade to play in high school. Two days later, Troy lost his job. So we really weren't into clarinet shopping. And her band director at the time said, "Oh, let her keep this one for marching, anyway -- she'll drop it, etc."
Now, it's still not a great time for us to be clarinet shopping, but when your clarinet is held together with super glue and duct tape -- you've pretty much taken it as far as you can go. Grateful for the Lord's provision at the time, trusting in the Lord's provision now. C'mon, Craigslist!
Okay, I have spoken enough nothingness today. Thanks to Donna's comment yesterday for the reminder. She didn't say it as a reminder, but it was: to look for what God is doing/ teaching daily. Hmmmm... lack of football fever and a broken clarinet? God is in it! If nothing else, I am trusting that God will provide a clarinet -- and I think God would rather us have a passion for him than for football, anyway. How's that? :-) Thanks, Donna, for the reminder to look for our Father/ Creator in the little and mundane.
Until tomorrow!
So, football discussion about why there was no "WooHoo": a)this was our only Thursday night game. Probably because we have to share a stadium -- but there are two stadiums in town (but 7 high schools!) b)we were a home game, but still no pep rally. Maybe for district games?
Someone commented on Facebook that she had always suspected that football was a "small town" thing -- because big city had so many other things to do. That's a possibility, of course -- and this city, as mentioned, has too many schools for all of us to throw our allegiance behind one school, so it's less of a big deal that way.
Something else I considered as I sat there last night -- other than noticing that red face paint is a REALLY bad idea if you want it to come off before graduation -- is that this high school is only 7 years old. Everywhere else I've lived in Texas the football program has been legendary. None of these high school kids grew up with a little cheerleader uniform or football jersey or tiny football from this school because this school didn't exist until they were in elementary school. They didn't grow up looking at annuals of their parents at this high school, or go trick or treating in their parents sports uniforms.
However, I will say that the stands were relatively full last night for a Thursday night game, it was pretty fun, our little team did okay, the band did great, and a grand time was had by all.
Oh! This is a hoot! So on Facebook I put up this pic. My caption was:
"Can you pick out Ashley? She's wearing black. And khaki shorts. And her clarinet (NO LIE) is held together with super glue and duct tape."
"Can you pick out Ashley? She's wearing black. And khaki shorts. And her clarinet (NO LIE) is held together with super glue and duct tape."
(She's 3rd from the front on the 45, FYI).
Um, yeah. We got that clarinet for free when she was going into 6th grade. She wasn't planning on playing in high school, so it was a win. She literally decided the last week of 8th grade to play in high school. Two days later, Troy lost his job. So we really weren't into clarinet shopping. And her band director at the time said, "Oh, let her keep this one for marching, anyway -- she'll drop it, etc."
Now, it's still not a great time for us to be clarinet shopping, but when your clarinet is held together with super glue and duct tape -- you've pretty much taken it as far as you can go. Grateful for the Lord's provision at the time, trusting in the Lord's provision now. C'mon, Craigslist!
Okay, I have spoken enough nothingness today. Thanks to Donna's comment yesterday for the reminder. She didn't say it as a reminder, but it was: to look for what God is doing/ teaching daily. Hmmmm... lack of football fever and a broken clarinet? God is in it! If nothing else, I am trusting that God will provide a clarinet -- and I think God would rather us have a passion for him than for football, anyway. How's that? :-) Thanks, Donna, for the reminder to look for our Father/ Creator in the little and mundane.
Until tomorrow!
Thursday
A Blog A Day In September...
One of the blogs I follow is posting every day right now (and I'm fuzzy on why so don't ask for details).
I thought: I think I could post every day in September. It would get me back in the habit of checking in over here. And remind me that I don't have to tell you people my whole life story to start back up.
So, I thought of TWO things to tell you on the first day. It may lead you to believe that I have a sad little life over here if I'm considering this blog-worthy. Let's look at it that I am saving the really fascinating stuff for ... some other time.
First, I have a running partner!
If you are on Facebook, this is not news to you (can y'all believe I actually have a VERY computer-savvy blog reader who is not on Facebook at all. She's awesome). My running partner is perfect for me -- she texts, not calls, to line up if we're going the next day, and she is VERY patient with me in my pace. We run as far as I can, then we run intervals for the rest of our distance. She wanted a partner more than she wanted to get in a super hard workout, and I needed someone to spur me on to do better, especially with it being 88* when we go at 5:15 a.m. OVER this heat, people!!
The second thing is about our new area. If you aren't a Texas person, or even from the South, this may not be a big deal to you, but this is something I am simply BAFFLED by -- and so are my children, honestly.
So, we move here (larger city) and are finding that everything extracurricular is far more intense: the band program is at a level we never imagined, we didn't even look at the soccer programs because it is craziness, I can't even discuss the lacrosse program (NO! I'm not kidding!), there's power lifting, volleyball, basketball, blah, blah, blah... but football? Oh... yeah... we have that, too... WHAT???!!!
Y'all -- today is the first football game at Ashley's high school. Woohoo, right?
Um, no Woo. no Hoo. Not even a pep rally! Just... nothing. Not one word has been said about it. Ashley said no one... in ANY of her classes has said, "I'm so excited about the game tonight!" Are ya kiddin' me??? What are these people thinking?? It's FOOTBALL season! Don't they understand that?
Now I'm wondering if there is a pep rally for soccer games. We have entered the twilight zone...
So that's the news from the Metropolis. Check ya tomorrow with more yawn-invoking news. I think I'll go to the game tonight. Sounds like the largest population in attendance will be band parents. Stay tuned.
I thought: I think I could post every day in September. It would get me back in the habit of checking in over here. And remind me that I don't have to tell you people my whole life story to start back up.
So, I thought of TWO things to tell you on the first day. It may lead you to believe that I have a sad little life over here if I'm considering this blog-worthy. Let's look at it that I am saving the really fascinating stuff for ... some other time.
First, I have a running partner!
If you are on Facebook, this is not news to you (can y'all believe I actually have a VERY computer-savvy blog reader who is not on Facebook at all. She's awesome). My running partner is perfect for me -- she texts, not calls, to line up if we're going the next day, and she is VERY patient with me in my pace. We run as far as I can, then we run intervals for the rest of our distance. She wanted a partner more than she wanted to get in a super hard workout, and I needed someone to spur me on to do better, especially with it being 88* when we go at 5:15 a.m. OVER this heat, people!!
The second thing is about our new area. If you aren't a Texas person, or even from the South, this may not be a big deal to you, but this is something I am simply BAFFLED by -- and so are my children, honestly.
So, we move here (larger city) and are finding that everything extracurricular is far more intense: the band program is at a level we never imagined, we didn't even look at the soccer programs because it is craziness, I can't even discuss the lacrosse program (NO! I'm not kidding!), there's power lifting, volleyball, basketball, blah, blah, blah... but football? Oh... yeah... we have that, too... WHAT???!!!
Y'all -- today is the first football game at Ashley's high school. Woohoo, right?
Um, no Woo. no Hoo. Not even a pep rally! Just... nothing. Not one word has been said about it. Ashley said no one... in ANY of her classes has said, "I'm so excited about the game tonight!" Are ya kiddin' me??? What are these people thinking?? It's FOOTBALL season! Don't they understand that?
Now I'm wondering if there is a pep rally for soccer games. We have entered the twilight zone...
So that's the news from the Metropolis. Check ya tomorrow with more yawn-invoking news. I think I'll go to the game tonight. Sounds like the largest population in attendance will be band parents. Stay tuned.
I Am an Educator
I think I feel the need to define/ redefine who I am/ what I do.
I am in the middle of a job hunt and the truth is that, on paper -- I don't amount to much.
I have a few years experience teaching -- and I don't want to return to the classroom. Not that I could in the state of Texas, anyway. With budget cutbacks, etc., a teaching job is a rare find.
I have a few articles published in a local paper. I would like to write, but I have nothing "impressive" -- again, we're talking what someone looking at a resume' would see -- published. Nothing national, no books. Of course there's this rockin' blog that has a few too many weeds growing over the summer and needs attention currently.
Nor do I have a journalism or English degree. Of course, it's not too late for that, but since they don't give those away for free except for some internet sites of questionable reputations, I still need a job before I can get a degree.
I am completely at peace that I have done some amazing things in the last several years that cannot assess a monetary value. I need look no further than here or here and I don't regret a minute spent on my family or my ministry.
One thing I know I am is an educator.
Again -- that doesn't mean I want to stand in a public school classroom, and God BLESS those who do since my children are public school educated. I am an educator and love to share what I know with others of all ages, whether it's God's word with other believers (or non-believers, for that matter) or how to swim with the little guys. I love to see the light come on and help someone know or understand something they previously didn't.
I value education highly. When my older child started kinder I decided that the best philosophy for choosing how to educate your child (public/ private/ homeschool) is: prayerfully, carefully, and be willing to admit at a moment's notice that you are wrong.
For a variety of reasons, we went with public school and are still there.
Again, I think the WORLD of public school teachers. They have an amazingly difficult job. But I know that my kid is "a student" to them. To me, my child is my child. Don't get me wrong -- my children have had teachers that have loved them dearly and we have loved in return. But no one is going know what my kids know, what their passions and gifts are, or where they are struggling like I will.
No doubt, my kids spend too much time in front of screens now and our recent life upheaval has made me much too relaxed about limiting such. But even with that, it hasn't taken away the hundreds of books we have read in the past, coupled with both of their intense curiosity and hunger to know more.
And I am still an educator, leading them when they start down a path they are interested in. We explore and find out more and turn over the leaves and pluck up the rocks to see what's underneath. In that regard, all parents are homeschool teachers.
So, my resume' is a mess, or as someone kindly put it, "eclectic." Yes. Eclectic. But I have been gifted two gorgeous healthy bodied and minded children who I'm tempted to become 12 levels of proud about. 'Lest I do, the Lord reminds me that they are a gift from Him -- just like He gifted me as an educator to gently lead them. I cannot put a price tag or income on these guys. Aren't they the awesomest?
I am in the middle of a job hunt and the truth is that, on paper -- I don't amount to much.
I have a few years experience teaching -- and I don't want to return to the classroom. Not that I could in the state of Texas, anyway. With budget cutbacks, etc., a teaching job is a rare find.
I have a few articles published in a local paper. I would like to write, but I have nothing "impressive" -- again, we're talking what someone looking at a resume' would see -- published. Nothing national, no books. Of course there's this rockin' blog that has a few too many weeds growing over the summer and needs attention currently.
Nor do I have a journalism or English degree. Of course, it's not too late for that, but since they don't give those away for free except for some internet sites of questionable reputations, I still need a job before I can get a degree.
I am completely at peace that I have done some amazing things in the last several years that cannot assess a monetary value. I need look no further than here or here and I don't regret a minute spent on my family or my ministry.
One thing I know I am is an educator.
Again -- that doesn't mean I want to stand in a public school classroom, and God BLESS those who do since my children are public school educated. I am an educator and love to share what I know with others of all ages, whether it's God's word with other believers (or non-believers, for that matter) or how to swim with the little guys. I love to see the light come on and help someone know or understand something they previously didn't.
I value education highly. When my older child started kinder I decided that the best philosophy for choosing how to educate your child (public/ private/ homeschool) is: prayerfully, carefully, and be willing to admit at a moment's notice that you are wrong.
For a variety of reasons, we went with public school and are still there.
Again, I think the WORLD of public school teachers. They have an amazingly difficult job. But I know that my kid is "a student" to them. To me, my child is my child. Don't get me wrong -- my children have had teachers that have loved them dearly and we have loved in return. But no one is going know what my kids know, what their passions and gifts are, or where they are struggling like I will.
No doubt, my kids spend too much time in front of screens now and our recent life upheaval has made me much too relaxed about limiting such. But even with that, it hasn't taken away the hundreds of books we have read in the past, coupled with both of their intense curiosity and hunger to know more.
And I am still an educator, leading them when they start down a path they are interested in. We explore and find out more and turn over the leaves and pluck up the rocks to see what's underneath. In that regard, all parents are homeschool teachers.
So, my resume' is a mess, or as someone kindly put it, "eclectic." Yes. Eclectic. But I have been gifted two gorgeous healthy bodied and minded children who I'm tempted to become 12 levels of proud about. 'Lest I do, the Lord reminds me that they are a gift from Him -- just like He gifted me as an educator to gently lead them. I cannot put a price tag or income on these guys. Aren't they the awesomest?
Tuesday
The Mission Field You Walk
When God called us to this place, I marveled, and might have said, "Seriously???"
You see, in my small town the "have nots" are never very far away and I was ever mindful that there was a population to serve, people to love on, and God's children to care for. Then God called me to suburbia.
Sure, our family could have chosen a mission field in an inner city area around here somewhere, but our call to public education, and our concession to our children in the move allowed them to have a voice in which school they would attend, which landed us squarely in suburbia.
So, I turned to the Lord and said, "Seriously??? THIS is where I have been called? Manicured lawns and stone front houses and store fronts? When my heart is broken by the least of these, you put me here?"
As the Lord tends to do, He began to quietly whisper to my heart (without even yelling or shaking me by the throat like I would do if I were my kid), "These are my children, too... and they are just as broken and hurt as those with less."
Then, early in the summer, I read this amazing article. (You need to read it, too. Go 'head. I'll wait...)
Since you've now read it... RIGHT?? ... you know that it talks about just that: some of us actually ARE called to mission work in suburbia. And suburbia is no less of a mission field than Ghana, Tegucigalpa, or Nepal.
Remember my words for the year? That gentleness was one. That concept -- that I am now living in a mission field that God ordained for me -- has brought new gentleness to my day.
"Well, sure..." you think, "we all are missionaries wherever we live!" But am I really feeling it in 5:00 traffic? How about at the gas pumps in 105* heat? What about with the cashier whose elevator doesn't QUITE reach the top floor? Do I see each of those people as my mission... as people to touch for Jesus? I am trying to start to see my world that way.
Example: I live in the South (okay, Texas -- which truly is "a whole other country" per the ad campaign -- but I was raised in the South) where folks hold doors open for each other. It's common courtesy. And at a Domino's -- it's almost a no-brainer: the one coming IN has empty hands and therefore should hold the door for the one coming OUT who will likely have their hands full of pizza boxes. Truth? This is the civilized world we live in. In my mind.
So, walking into a Domino's, I hold the door open for the woman coming out. Because it's polite. But on my way out, I am juggling 3 boxes (I have teenagers -- don't judge), my wallet and my keys, and am struggling to push open the heavy door. Through the glass I can see this tiny bug of a woman smiling sweetly. Waiting ever-so-patiently for me to either drop everything in my hands or to successfully fight my way out the door. I couldn't tell which she was rooting for.
I admit I was a little frustrated thinking, "Can you not help me here? Don't you know how we do things around here? You're supposed to open the door! It's the polite thing to do..." But, first the lady's sweet smile disarmed me, and I had to look at her as my mission field and just love her. Her smile made me realize that she honestly believed that being patient was the best she could and should do in that situation.
Only Christ in me allows me to reframe may day and my world to see the mission field I live in.
What about the mission field where you live and work? What is God calling you to do there?
You see, in my small town the "have nots" are never very far away and I was ever mindful that there was a population to serve, people to love on, and God's children to care for. Then God called me to suburbia.
Sure, our family could have chosen a mission field in an inner city area around here somewhere, but our call to public education, and our concession to our children in the move allowed them to have a voice in which school they would attend, which landed us squarely in suburbia.
So, I turned to the Lord and said, "Seriously??? THIS is where I have been called? Manicured lawns and stone front houses and store fronts? When my heart is broken by the least of these, you put me here?"
As the Lord tends to do, He began to quietly whisper to my heart (without even yelling or shaking me by the throat like I would do if I were my kid), "These are my children, too... and they are just as broken and hurt as those with less."
Then, early in the summer, I read this amazing article. (You need to read it, too. Go 'head. I'll wait...)
Since you've now read it... RIGHT?? ... you know that it talks about just that: some of us actually ARE called to mission work in suburbia. And suburbia is no less of a mission field than Ghana, Tegucigalpa, or Nepal.
Remember my words for the year? That gentleness was one. That concept -- that I am now living in a mission field that God ordained for me -- has brought new gentleness to my day.
"Well, sure..." you think, "we all are missionaries wherever we live!" But am I really feeling it in 5:00 traffic? How about at the gas pumps in 105* heat? What about with the cashier whose elevator doesn't QUITE reach the top floor? Do I see each of those people as my mission... as people to touch for Jesus? I am trying to start to see my world that way.
Example: I live in the South (okay, Texas -- which truly is "a whole other country" per the ad campaign -- but I was raised in the South) where folks hold doors open for each other. It's common courtesy. And at a Domino's -- it's almost a no-brainer: the one coming IN has empty hands and therefore should hold the door for the one coming OUT who will likely have their hands full of pizza boxes. Truth? This is the civilized world we live in. In my mind.
So, walking into a Domino's, I hold the door open for the woman coming out. Because it's polite. But on my way out, I am juggling 3 boxes (I have teenagers -- don't judge), my wallet and my keys, and am struggling to push open the heavy door. Through the glass I can see this tiny bug of a woman smiling sweetly. Waiting ever-so-patiently for me to either drop everything in my hands or to successfully fight my way out the door. I couldn't tell which she was rooting for.
I admit I was a little frustrated thinking, "Can you not help me here? Don't you know how we do things around here? You're supposed to open the door! It's the polite thing to do..." But, first the lady's sweet smile disarmed me, and I had to look at her as my mission field and just love her. Her smile made me realize that she honestly believed that being patient was the best she could and should do in that situation.
Only Christ in me allows me to reframe may day and my world to see the mission field I live in.
What about the mission field where you live and work? What is God calling you to do there?
Prayers for All
The pictures of backpack-clad munchkins have begun cropping up on Facebook. The sales papers are full of crayons and glue sticks. You know what that means! It's TIME!
While I definitely have some of this guy's sentiment about it:
this year brings new heaviness to my heart as my kids are heading into uncharted territory (for them).
Next Monday I will take my 13 year old man-child to a school of 900 middle schoolers where he knows no one to start 8th grade. Then I will take my 15 year old daughter to a school of 1700, where she has had the good fortune of being in band camp for almost 3 weeks, so she has someone to sit with at lunch perhaps. Then I shall return to my house and cry for a good long while, I suppose.
I have told both of my kids that since I knew we would move (even when I didn't know WHEN we would move) I have been praying for their first day of school at their new school. Mainly -- that just ONE person would be gracious and friendly to them -- and eat lunch with them.
Of course, you and I know that in the global scheme of things there are much worse things than feeling completely left out on your first day of school in your new town.... but at 15 and 13, it's pretty hard to imagine what that would be.
So, as you are praying for your own children and their teachers, and please do be praying for teachers and administrators everywhere, it would honestly mean the world to me if you would remember to pray for my two. While we have had some bumps along the way, this summer has gone much better than I ever imagined, and I fully credit it to the prayers of folks like you.
And while I'm praying... feel free to leave any requests in the comments. I'll be talking to God, I would love to go to Him on your behalf as well.
Monday
The Teens Keep Me Laughing!
I remember when my kids were little hearing a woman with a 13, 15, 16, and 18 year old say that she would rather have 4 teenagers than 4 2-year olds. "Hmmm..." thought I, "I'll just have to see about that!" Not that I planned to have 4 of either, mind you.
But I have to confess that my teens are so funny -- sometimes inadvertently -- and generally a joy.
Just a few of the recent conversations around here. Only one will identify WHICH teen it was:
Me, after clearing off a week's worth of clutter and mess off of my kitchen island: (HUGE sigh and exclamation) "OH! I feel SO! much better!!
Boy Teen: "Because you cleaned, or did you fart?"
***************************
After some outdoor stuff:
Me: "I can't believe I drank 2 liters of water and I am still this thirsty. My throat is completely dry."
Teen: "Yeah, but you talk a lot."
***************************
11 a.m.
Teen with one eye open, still in bed: "I AM up!"
Me: "That's not UP-- you're horizontal!"
Teen: "I'm planking..."
Love those guys.. Every day is a new day.
But I have to confess that my teens are so funny -- sometimes inadvertently -- and generally a joy.
Just a few of the recent conversations around here. Only one will identify WHICH teen it was:
Me, after clearing off a week's worth of clutter and mess off of my kitchen island: (HUGE sigh and exclamation) "OH! I feel SO! much better!!
Boy Teen: "Because you cleaned, or did you fart?"
***************************
After some outdoor stuff:
Me: "I can't believe I drank 2 liters of water and I am still this thirsty. My throat is completely dry."
Teen: "Yeah, but you talk a lot."
***************************
11 a.m.
Teen with one eye open, still in bed: "I AM up!"
Me: "That's not UP-- you're horizontal!"
Teen: "I'm planking..."
Love those guys.. Every day is a new day.
Wednesday
Reasons Not to Hit The Snooze
A few times a week I get out of bed while it is still dark, strap on my running shoes, and hit the road. The temperature and upheaval of this summer have done a number on my pace and training and I am basically back to square one, but I am celebrating where I am.
If you can fog a mirror, it's not too late to start over. So I start over. This week I ran further than last (without walking -- the end number is the same) and next week I plan to run farther still. God has blessed me with healthy legs. We got this.
When the alarm goes off and all is quiet in the house, of course I want to stay in bed. Especially Saturday mornings. But eventually I crawl out and go. And I have found that the rewards are great. Below I wanted to document some of the reasons I am glad that I get out of bed:
1) Avoiding heat stroke:
This one is a little too obvious. Forget those crazy highs (though I have seen some whack-a-doos out running in it) even the lows are too hot for me. It doesn't matter if I set my alarm for 4:30 a.m. (I don't) -- it's not getting any cooler out there, and the longer I lay in bed, chances are it's getting MUCH hotter. Let's ROLL!
2) Sun coming up (Part 1)
I go down to the middle school track on occasion to run. This picture doesn't do justice the HUGE orange orb that rose -- yet I was VERY thankful for that stand of trees that blocked the light and heat for a few more minutes. Every last minute without the extra heat is a blessing.
3) Every once in a while --
Random hot air balloon. Dunno why, but I loved it. Hot air balloon on a Monday morning. Why not?
4) Sunrise (Part 2)
After the sun rose a little higher in the sky, some clouds blew in. Not the rain variety, of course. We don't get those in this part of Texas. Rumors are that they get them on the coast, but not us. Anyway, it made for an amazing few moments of sunrise. Definitely worth being out of bed for (this is the same spot I took the first sunrise pic from -- weird, huh?)
5) You might find a friend:
Elsie and I have a deal: she doesn't mention my pace, I don't point out that her udders are in woeful need of support. It's a friendly arrangement. I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm crazy for the whole running deal anyway. You can kind of see it in her eyes.
Running doesn't have to be your deal. Walking, biking, swimming, yoga... whatever gets you moving. But I love what I see when I head out on the road. Now I talked to someone recently who lives close to some Buddhist monks. SHE got to see a monk sitting at the bottom of a spiral slide in her park having his morning meditation while she was on HER walk. I may ask for directions to where she walks just so I can get a picture. What do you see around you?
If you can fog a mirror, it's not too late to start over. So I start over. This week I ran further than last (without walking -- the end number is the same) and next week I plan to run farther still. God has blessed me with healthy legs. We got this.
When the alarm goes off and all is quiet in the house, of course I want to stay in bed. Especially Saturday mornings. But eventually I crawl out and go. And I have found that the rewards are great. Below I wanted to document some of the reasons I am glad that I get out of bed:
1) Avoiding heat stroke:
This one is a little too obvious. Forget those crazy highs (though I have seen some whack-a-doos out running in it) even the lows are too hot for me. It doesn't matter if I set my alarm for 4:30 a.m. (I don't) -- it's not getting any cooler out there, and the longer I lay in bed, chances are it's getting MUCH hotter. Let's ROLL!2) Sun coming up (Part 1)
I go down to the middle school track on occasion to run. This picture doesn't do justice the HUGE orange orb that rose -- yet I was VERY thankful for that stand of trees that blocked the light and heat for a few more minutes. Every last minute without the extra heat is a blessing.3) Every once in a while --
Random hot air balloon. Dunno why, but I loved it. Hot air balloon on a Monday morning. Why not?4) Sunrise (Part 2)
After the sun rose a little higher in the sky, some clouds blew in. Not the rain variety, of course. We don't get those in this part of Texas. Rumors are that they get them on the coast, but not us. Anyway, it made for an amazing few moments of sunrise. Definitely worth being out of bed for (this is the same spot I took the first sunrise pic from -- weird, huh?)5) You might find a friend:
Elsie and I have a deal: she doesn't mention my pace, I don't point out that her udders are in woeful need of support. It's a friendly arrangement. I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm crazy for the whole running deal anyway. You can kind of see it in her eyes.Running doesn't have to be your deal. Walking, biking, swimming, yoga... whatever gets you moving. But I love what I see when I head out on the road. Now I talked to someone recently who lives close to some Buddhist monks. SHE got to see a monk sitting at the bottom of a spiral slide in her park having his morning meditation while she was on HER walk. I may ask for directions to where she walks just so I can get a picture. What do you see around you?
Friends In Unlikely Places
Nine years ago, my home was flooded, I wasn't living in my house, I had a husband whose job required him to travel, two small children, we were being sued (I haven't told that captivating story on the blog), and I was keeping a baby 2-3 days a week. In short, I was a wreck.
I ran myself over to what would have been the closest gym if we lived in our house and signed up. I decided that I deserved just a little bit of me time and that was going to be it. I had no idea the significance that decision would play in the next 9 years of my life.
Soon I was attending classes there and met Laura, who had also recently joined that gym. Laura is a local preacher's wife who likes to not fit the preacher's wife mold. My earliest memory of her at the gym -- NO idea what we were discussing, but Laura laughed and said, "Honey, we've been married almost 15 years. If I shave my legs, that's foreplay." Yeah, I was going to like Laura.
I think Amy was there all along. Amy is a little more like me. Seemingly quiet... until she has an opinion. I know when the gym moved to "the new place" (where it's been for 7 years now) that Amy was there and that's when Amy and Laura and I all started going to some of the same classes regularly.
Before too long I got a job -- stinkin' income! -- and had to quit that regular class and sorely missed my friends. I would catch them on every other Friday, but it wasn't the same (of course). In time, I quit that job (theoretically to write, but we all know it was so I could work out with my friends! :-)
The class that we went to most often together was a weights class -- Body Pump if you know it. I'll be honest. We would talk all the way through it. Oh, we were working out (want to feel my biceps?) but we were catching up on life and diverting our attention from the pain in the mean time.
For the record -- we were frequently in trouble in class for our talking. We got talked to by the teacher -- and would stop talking for a while. Then the people on the other side of the class would start talking, inspiring us to continue our conversations. Until we got ugly looks from the front row. Or chewed out by the angry exerciser. And the cycle would start again. Truly, we had long conversations (at Starbucks -- not in class) about this.
Through class or at Starbucks we discussed it all, big and little. We talked our way through children's illnesses and surgeries, sports victories, defeats, and struggles, we've wrestled, prayed, and cried through two husband's unemployments, struggled over parenting decisions and children's heartbreaks, frequently coming to tears right there at the weight rack.
Muscles and bodies grew stronger, and so did the friendship. I honestly had NO IDEA how much those girls -- my "gym buddies" as they became known around my house -- meant to me. Until I needed someone to be strong. Or consistent. Or both. And they were.
I ran myself over to what would have been the closest gym if we lived in our house and signed up. I decided that I deserved just a little bit of me time and that was going to be it. I had no idea the significance that decision would play in the next 9 years of my life.
Soon I was attending classes there and met Laura, who had also recently joined that gym. Laura is a local preacher's wife who likes to not fit the preacher's wife mold. My earliest memory of her at the gym -- NO idea what we were discussing, but Laura laughed and said, "Honey, we've been married almost 15 years. If I shave my legs, that's foreplay." Yeah, I was going to like Laura.
I think Amy was there all along. Amy is a little more like me. Seemingly quiet... until she has an opinion. I know when the gym moved to "the new place" (where it's been for 7 years now) that Amy was there and that's when Amy and Laura and I all started going to some of the same classes regularly.
Before too long I got a job -- stinkin' income! -- and had to quit that regular class and sorely missed my friends. I would catch them on every other Friday, but it wasn't the same (of course). In time, I quit that job (theoretically to write, but we all know it was so I could work out with my friends! :-)
The class that we went to most often together was a weights class -- Body Pump if you know it. I'll be honest. We would talk all the way through it. Oh, we were working out (want to feel my biceps?) but we were catching up on life and diverting our attention from the pain in the mean time.
For the record -- we were frequently in trouble in class for our talking. We got talked to by the teacher -- and would stop talking for a while. Then the people on the other side of the class would start talking, inspiring us to continue our conversations. Until we got ugly looks from the front row. Or chewed out by the angry exerciser. And the cycle would start again. Truly, we had long conversations (at Starbucks -- not in class) about this.
Through class or at Starbucks we discussed it all, big and little. We talked our way through children's illnesses and surgeries, sports victories, defeats, and struggles, we've wrestled, prayed, and cried through two husband's unemployments, struggled over parenting decisions and children's heartbreaks, frequently coming to tears right there at the weight rack.
Muscles and bodies grew stronger, and so did the friendship. I honestly had NO IDEA how much those girls -- my "gym buddies" as they became known around my house -- meant to me. Until I needed someone to be strong. Or consistent. Or both. And they were.
(My two closest gym buddies, Amy, far left, and Laura, in yellow then me, and Rebekah our body pump instructor, far right, my last day at Body Pump the day I moved)
Thursday
A Waiting Place Filled With Teen Crazies
I keep trying (not very hard) to get back over here... and I just keep doing other things.
My goal for the last couple of weeks has been to consistently get back into the word and eat better. Evidently I can only accomplish 2 things at a time, because I am unable to blog on top of it. I am getting some writing done and wrote about "Choosing Joy" when life wasn't aligning for me to do such.
I am behind and owe that ministry an article. My next article will be where my family is -- this waiting for the inevitable: beginning of school and band camp, settling in at church, etc. We are unpacked... but when people from the former town ask "are you settled??" with very hopeful eyes, what do I say? Well, no, we aren't settled. It's summer and we have stared at ourselves, a movie screen, and a big fat TV screen until we are all sick of each other. We workout and have push up challenges. We have precious dinner conversations. But settled in this town? We may as well be on Mars.
Of course, it's awesome that we live where Troy works 'cause, you know, we did it the other way and that totally stunk, too. We are just still in this "waiting place" -- just a different waiting place than before -- now waiting for a scary first day, hard time, obstacle to get over.
Band camp starts soon for the high schooler, followed by orientation for the middle schooler. I, personally, am SO! READY! for these things to happen. Tensions are running a little high here at the house. We are all a little ready to see what it will be like and get it over with.
Not one prayer would be wasted on my family. You and I KNOW "it will be fine" when it all comes out in the wash -- it's these few weeks/ months of WAITING for it to "come out in the wash" that have tension/ anxiety mounting and teen crazies going crazier.
You know you're jealous of the teen crazies. Those are some good times, y'all...
Until next time, just trying to get settled... in front of a screen. SO! Tell me -- what are YOU up to this summer? Doing something fun?
My goal for the last couple of weeks has been to consistently get back into the word and eat better. Evidently I can only accomplish 2 things at a time, because I am unable to blog on top of it. I am getting some writing done and wrote about "Choosing Joy" when life wasn't aligning for me to do such.
I am behind and owe that ministry an article. My next article will be where my family is -- this waiting for the inevitable: beginning of school and band camp, settling in at church, etc. We are unpacked... but when people from the former town ask "are you settled??" with very hopeful eyes, what do I say? Well, no, we aren't settled. It's summer and we have stared at ourselves, a movie screen, and a big fat TV screen until we are all sick of each other. We workout and have push up challenges. We have precious dinner conversations. But settled in this town? We may as well be on Mars.
Of course, it's awesome that we live where Troy works 'cause, you know, we did it the other way and that totally stunk, too. We are just still in this "waiting place" -- just a different waiting place than before -- now waiting for a scary first day, hard time, obstacle to get over.
Band camp starts soon for the high schooler, followed by orientation for the middle schooler. I, personally, am SO! READY! for these things to happen. Tensions are running a little high here at the house. We are all a little ready to see what it will be like and get it over with.Not one prayer would be wasted on my family. You and I KNOW "it will be fine" when it all comes out in the wash -- it's these few weeks/ months of WAITING for it to "come out in the wash" that have tension/ anxiety mounting and teen crazies going crazier.
You know you're jealous of the teen crazies. Those are some good times, y'all...
Until next time, just trying to get settled... in front of a screen. SO! Tell me -- what are YOU up to this summer? Doing something fun?
Monday
Choosing to Be Chosen
The youth minister for our church in Abilene chooses a theme every summer. The theme is the focus of the mission trips, then the camp later in the summer. One of the reasons I won't refer to him as "my kids' former youth minister" is that a) he will always minister to all of us b) the themes always speak to me -- year 'round if I will let them. He is my minister, too -- and a friend that I always enjoy challenging spiritually and allow him to challenge me spiritually.
The theme this summer is "Chosen (and Choosing) to Be" (and I think I'm taking liberties with parentheses, etc., but it's my blog so it's my theme today).
This is based on one of my favorite verses: 1 Peter 2:9:"But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light."
There are many parts of that to pull out and dissect that I love and that bless me, but the main point that Ricky told us on the mission trip again and again is that a) we are a chosen people, chosen by God to take Him into the world (be "his wonderful light"), be His ambassadors and b) we must, in turn, CHOOSE to put on that royal title and mantle.
We can choose to accept Christ as our Savior. Once we have done that, we can get up on a daily basis and choose our actions. We can choose to read His word. Choose to take up His cross on a daily basis. We get to CHOOSE. We have already been chosen... but what will we choose?
Last week (while the air was out in my house) I had an annoying day. Of course, when you start with an 85* house, it stands little chance of being otherwise. But I had to go into a retail establishment where I knew I would need patience and kindness. Not only did I want to reflect Christ in my actions -- I wanted them to help me out and I knew that going in as annoyed as I was at life would not help my cause. So, yes, I had a little bit of ulterior motive. But I knew I could choose.
Sleep-deprived and hot, I had little patience and kindness on my own, so I purposely pulled out my shirt from the mission trip to wear:
I wanted to remind myself that I was chosen -- and I wanted to choose to act like royalty.
It's a daily decision, this royalty business. I get immensely frustrated with people who "show their tail" when it will reflect poorly on a group that I am affiliated with -- but how often does my impatience, selfishness, and judgmental heart reflect poorly on the God I worship?
This thought continues to roll around in my head... that I have been chosen, so I can choose to be. Today... then again tomorrow.
*************************************************************************************
COMPLETE side note/ public service announcement for you if you are reading this on the day I write it:
Get your free Slurpee at 7-11 today!! And... choose to act like royalty when you do! :-) Enjoy!
The theme this summer is "Chosen (and Choosing) to Be" (and I think I'm taking liberties with parentheses, etc., but it's my blog so it's my theme today).
This is based on one of my favorite verses: 1 Peter 2:9:"But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light."
There are many parts of that to pull out and dissect that I love and that bless me, but the main point that Ricky told us on the mission trip again and again is that a) we are a chosen people, chosen by God to take Him into the world (be "his wonderful light"), be His ambassadors and b) we must, in turn, CHOOSE to put on that royal title and mantle.
We can choose to accept Christ as our Savior. Once we have done that, we can get up on a daily basis and choose our actions. We can choose to read His word. Choose to take up His cross on a daily basis. We get to CHOOSE. We have already been chosen... but what will we choose?
Last week (while the air was out in my house) I had an annoying day. Of course, when you start with an 85* house, it stands little chance of being otherwise. But I had to go into a retail establishment where I knew I would need patience and kindness. Not only did I want to reflect Christ in my actions -- I wanted them to help me out and I knew that going in as annoyed as I was at life would not help my cause. So, yes, I had a little bit of ulterior motive. But I knew I could choose.
Sleep-deprived and hot, I had little patience and kindness on my own, so I purposely pulled out my shirt from the mission trip to wear:
I wanted to remind myself that I was chosen -- and I wanted to choose to act like royalty.It's a daily decision, this royalty business. I get immensely frustrated with people who "show their tail" when it will reflect poorly on a group that I am affiliated with -- but how often does my impatience, selfishness, and judgmental heart reflect poorly on the God I worship?
This thought continues to roll around in my head... that I have been chosen, so I can choose to be. Today... then again tomorrow.
*************************************************************************************
COMPLETE side note/ public service announcement for you if you are reading this on the day I write it:
Get your free Slurpee at 7-11 today!! And... choose to act like royalty when you do! :-) Enjoy!
Thursday
Air Conditioner Out in Texas in July? SCORE!
"Umm... why is the air blowing hot air?"
No one wants to hear this at 6 p.m on a July afternoon in Texas, when we definitely like our air of the cool variety.
Oh, yes. Like about 80% of everyone else that we know, our air conditioner simply couldn't keep up with the horrific heat this week.
We commiserated with the dog, trapped in her fur coat. We tried, valiantly, to put a happy face on it. But when it came down to it... we were all miserable.
We spent one night in the heat. Woke up to house at 82*, outside at 75*. Urg.
The kids were already heading out to meet a group at amusement parks for a couple of days. Troy and I scheduled our repair guy -- for two days out -- and used hotwire to book a (NICE) hotel for the night.
Until I could get in the hotel I did a few things at the house, with temps climbing to around 87* in the house. Partly from partial heat stroke, partly from sleep deprivation due to sleeping in a hot house, and partly from just trying to be okay, I realized it's not completely terrible if your air goes out in the summer in Texas.
Therefore, in no certain order, the good parts about going without air conditioning in July in Texas:
-- The SAVINGS!! Not running your unit for almost 3 days!
-- The earnings potential! You could open a Bikram Yoga studio in your living room!
-- Your pores look AMAZING after being in your own little homemade sauna all day long.
-- No need to eat (who's hungry?) while sitting in the sauna, so the pounds fall off.
-- It is a true emergency to go spend a night at a hotel. Thank you, Dave Ramsey emergency fund!
Obviously all of the savings (and earnings!) could have been completely wiped out by the verdict of "your system needs to be replaced..." But, thank you, Lord! The verdict was (I kid you not) the capacitor. I want it to be the flux capacitor so that Michael J. Fox will show up in a DeLorean and take me away to a simpler time.
Best thing, hands down? When it starts working again!
So very very happy to be going to bed in a cool house!
No one wants to hear this at 6 p.m on a July afternoon in Texas, when we definitely like our air of the cool variety.
Oh, yes. Like about 80% of everyone else that we know, our air conditioner simply couldn't keep up with the horrific heat this week.
We commiserated with the dog, trapped in her fur coat. We tried, valiantly, to put a happy face on it. But when it came down to it... we were all miserable.
We spent one night in the heat. Woke up to house at 82*, outside at 75*. Urg.
The kids were already heading out to meet a group at amusement parks for a couple of days. Troy and I scheduled our repair guy -- for two days out -- and used hotwire to book a (NICE) hotel for the night.
Until I could get in the hotel I did a few things at the house, with temps climbing to around 87* in the house. Partly from partial heat stroke, partly from sleep deprivation due to sleeping in a hot house, and partly from just trying to be okay, I realized it's not completely terrible if your air goes out in the summer in Texas.
Therefore, in no certain order, the good parts about going without air conditioning in July in Texas:
-- The SAVINGS!! Not running your unit for almost 3 days!
-- The earnings potential! You could open a Bikram Yoga studio in your living room!
-- Your pores look AMAZING after being in your own little homemade sauna all day long.
-- No need to eat (who's hungry?) while sitting in the sauna, so the pounds fall off.
-- It is a true emergency to go spend a night at a hotel. Thank you, Dave Ramsey emergency fund!
Obviously all of the savings (and earnings!) could have been completely wiped out by the verdict of "your system needs to be replaced..." But, thank you, Lord! The verdict was (I kid you not) the capacitor. I want it to be the flux capacitor so that Michael J. Fox will show up in a DeLorean and take me away to a simpler time.
Best thing, hands down? When it starts working again!
So very very happy to be going to bed in a cool house!
Saturday
Dear Running Dude
(now that I am on my Facebook fast, the blog will get my drive-by thoughts again. Won't that be fun?)
Dear Runner Dude,
You totally kept me going today. I had a 5 mile run today (that I am still walk/running). Want to know something HILARIOUS -- so I am at about mile 3.9, running with my iPhone for my music and Nike+ training thing, and I checked my training plan on SmartCoach to see the pace I should be going my 5 miles. Because I am a turtle and today I totally blew that turtle business out of the water... for the first 3.5 miles. Then the turtles passed me and laughed and gathered their friends around to point and laugh.
It was at this point (the 3.9 mile mark, checking my SmartCoach) that I noticed that I wasn't even supposed to be going 5 miles today. My training plan said 4 miles. Isn't that SO! FUNNY! Um... yeah, it wasn't to me at the time, either. But I was out for 5 and I had already planned to do 5 AND I had already told my Nike+ thing that I was doing 5 and I couldn't have that little piece of electronics mocking me, now could I?
So I kept going -- did I mention I was at the corner where I could have turned to come home? Or I could have kept going straight up a hill... Up the hill I went. Into the sun. I did decide not to add an extra loop and I was running less and walking more and, in short, dying. I convinced myself to run in little 30 second shuffles.
I finally was getting toward the end. Mainly the part where I was heading down the hill toward home. I didn't care what Nike+ said, I was just going home. Since I was heading down a hill I talked myself into going for broke and running for a whole 60 seconds.
As soon as I started running I saw Mr. Runner Dude coming around the corner towards me -- which meant... up the hill. More overweight than I am, pouring buckets of sweat like I was, but running the whole time. He's probably some awesome distance runner, just in what they call the "Clydesdale" division (and I am SO not entering a race that has a Clydesdale division for me -- I have a very brave friend that I shall not call out that faithfully reads my blog that entered a race and was in the Clydesdale division for her age group... and she's smaller than me!! I would. have. DIED!!)
When I passed him, I yelled, "Good job! We're doing it!" and truly hope he didn't think I considered myself some super-awesome runner being condescending to him. Oh, no. I hope he goes home and pops open the Gatorade and scouts out random blogs and happens across mine and finds out that he kept me running today -- because he chugged it UP the hill when I barely could run down at that point in my run.
So... thanks, Mr. Runner Dude. You never know when the little thing you're doing encourages someone else to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
P.S. I got in front of my house -- Nike+ read 4.90 miles. Doh! Went to the end of the street and back. Boom! Done...
Sunday
Welcome Back to Me!
Whoa. It's been... a VERY long while.
If you're still here, glad to have you. Last I posted, I was telling you that Troy and I were trying to adjust to living together. Think we're still trying to adjust. That and this town-o-concrete and the driving. I don't mind the driving but all of it takes very, very long to do.
We have celebrated my grandmother's 100th birthday, painted over some wallpaper, and the kids and I went on a mission trip to the Rio Grande Valley and just returned Friday night. NOW let summer begin.
I know I SAY this all the time, but I plan to get back to the blog more regularly. One way I plan to do that is get away from Facebook (which will keep some of you from knowing that I have updated my blog). I plan to shut down my Facebook account for the month of July. I have many things I want to concentrate on, and Facebook isn't one of them.
Our mission trip was truly bittersweet and a great time for us. It was tough to make the effort to go, but I'm so glad that we did. The kids all had a great time. It was the 3rd year in a row for Ashley and me, and Riley's first year. Lives change when kids see what a difference it makes to serve others. I'm noticing that and mindful of that as we start looking at where to serve in a church now.
"Church shopping" -- there's a weird thing to say and do. Not super fun, either. Think we have a fairly good plan in place, but it's still not a ton of fun.
Also trying to get hooked back up with exercise but REALLY missing my gym buddies from Abilene -- isn't accountability a great thing? Isn't a cheap gym membership a great thing? Starting over. In every area. I admit it can become overwhelming at times.
So. Looking toward the 4th. What's everybody up to? We have a bazillion options in our huge city now. I suspect we'll end up doing what we've always done -- a big fat nothing.
What about you? Does your family have big plans for the 4th?
If you're still here, glad to have you. Last I posted, I was telling you that Troy and I were trying to adjust to living together. Think we're still trying to adjust. That and this town-o-concrete and the driving. I don't mind the driving but all of it takes very, very long to do.
We have celebrated my grandmother's 100th birthday, painted over some wallpaper, and the kids and I went on a mission trip to the Rio Grande Valley and just returned Friday night. NOW let summer begin.
I know I SAY this all the time, but I plan to get back to the blog more regularly. One way I plan to do that is get away from Facebook (which will keep some of you from knowing that I have updated my blog). I plan to shut down my Facebook account for the month of July. I have many things I want to concentrate on, and Facebook isn't one of them.
Our mission trip was truly bittersweet and a great time for us. It was tough to make the effort to go, but I'm so glad that we did. The kids all had a great time. It was the 3rd year in a row for Ashley and me, and Riley's first year. Lives change when kids see what a difference it makes to serve others. I'm noticing that and mindful of that as we start looking at where to serve in a church now.
"Church shopping" -- there's a weird thing to say and do. Not super fun, either. Think we have a fairly good plan in place, but it's still not a ton of fun.
Also trying to get hooked back up with exercise but REALLY missing my gym buddies from Abilene -- isn't accountability a great thing? Isn't a cheap gym membership a great thing? Starting over. In every area. I admit it can become overwhelming at times.
So. Looking toward the 4th. What's everybody up to? We have a bazillion options in our huge city now. I suspect we'll end up doing what we've always done -- a big fat nothing.
What about you? Does your family have big plans for the 4th?
Monday
Marriage Monday: Time To Reconnect
Well... hello there.
It's me. My name is Sarah. I blog occasionally. When my life isn't in grand upheaval.
You'll notice this is a "Marriage Monday" post. I STARTED to write 2 weeks ago: for optimal marital health,
never,
never,
never,
never,
NEVER
move. The end.
It still isn't bad advice, but I'm not sure it's reasonable.
We got moved into our house (with a little tension) and a few days of settling in, but I had to return to the other town (200 miles away) for the kids to finish school. And they did. Stellarly. (That isn't a word. But my kids are awesome and I am proud). My kids maintained great grades, played in their respective band concerts, fought bronchitis, and slept in 6 different places the last 4 weeks of school. No sweat. Seriously. I'm kind of goofy-over-the-top proud of them.
So marriage Monday stuff. So Thursday the kids got out of school at noon. I loaded them, the dog (who had been staying with a friend), the computer tower (that had been being repaired by another friend), a trombone and clarinet and all of our luggage in the truck and headed over. Now my husband and I are living together for more than 48 hours at a stretch for the first time in 6 months. Not. Even. Kidding. 6 months.
A bit of an adjustment. He is so happy to have us here and with him -- and has mentioned more than once how much lower his stress level is with us here -- and I am happy to be here with him and just flat happy to have a HOUSE after 3 weeks of floating.
But the reality is that not only are we adjusting to living together, the kids and I are adjusting to living in a new town. In other words, stress level is high.
I have to check my heart and my words quite frequently these days. I want to lash out -- and have more times than I care to admit. I want to be selfish -- and am too frequently. I have been in charge and queen of my domain now for 6 months. Troy has been basically a bachelor for 6 months. There will be some adjustment.
I know the main thing I need to be doing that I have sadly neglected -- time in God's word. I need to surround and fill myself with His word to remind me that this, my family, is my blessing and my calling and that His love, according to 1 Corinthians 13, is kind, patient, not rude or easily angered, and never fails. Yeah. I'm gonna need some divine help for that.
So look for me back here. Feel free to say a prayer as we learn our new town, each other (again) and our new neighbors. I'll be digging into God's word to be reminded of what this all means.
It's me. My name is Sarah. I blog occasionally. When my life isn't in grand upheaval.
You'll notice this is a "Marriage Monday" post. I STARTED to write 2 weeks ago: for optimal marital health,
never,
never,
never,
never,
NEVER
move. The end.
It still isn't bad advice, but I'm not sure it's reasonable.
We got moved into our house (with a little tension) and a few days of settling in, but I had to return to the other town (200 miles away) for the kids to finish school. And they did. Stellarly. (That isn't a word. But my kids are awesome and I am proud). My kids maintained great grades, played in their respective band concerts, fought bronchitis, and slept in 6 different places the last 4 weeks of school. No sweat. Seriously. I'm kind of goofy-over-the-top proud of them.
So marriage Monday stuff. So Thursday the kids got out of school at noon. I loaded them, the dog (who had been staying with a friend), the computer tower (that had been being repaired by another friend), a trombone and clarinet and all of our luggage in the truck and headed over. Now my husband and I are living together for more than 48 hours at a stretch for the first time in 6 months. Not. Even. Kidding. 6 months.
A bit of an adjustment. He is so happy to have us here and with him -- and has mentioned more than once how much lower his stress level is with us here -- and I am happy to be here with him and just flat happy to have a HOUSE after 3 weeks of floating.
But the reality is that not only are we adjusting to living together, the kids and I are adjusting to living in a new town. In other words, stress level is high.
I have to check my heart and my words quite frequently these days. I want to lash out -- and have more times than I care to admit. I want to be selfish -- and am too frequently. I have been in charge and queen of my domain now for 6 months. Troy has been basically a bachelor for 6 months. There will be some adjustment.
I know the main thing I need to be doing that I have sadly neglected -- time in God's word. I need to surround and fill myself with His word to remind me that this, my family, is my blessing and my calling and that His love, according to 1 Corinthians 13, is kind, patient, not rude or easily angered, and never fails. Yeah. I'm gonna need some divine help for that.
So look for me back here. Feel free to say a prayer as we learn our new town, each other (again) and our new neighbors. I'll be digging into God's word to be reminded of what this all means.
Friday
Friday Friends
Most of us have seen this, but I think this is simply a great reminder for all of us:
Monday
Marriage Monday: This is "Worse"; Are You In?
If you haven't kept up with the schedule, this is it! This is the week that movers put my belongings on a truck, my family moves into a hotel, then into a house, then in with friends, all the while doing a wildflower project for Pre-AP Biology, a band concert, and having some sort of honor bestowed upon a student. It's just a wee bit cuckoo 'round here. No wonder someone woke up with a stomach ache.
To add to the cuckiness, two weeks ago there was a ginormous hail storm (that 2 days later produced horrifically deadly tornadoes as it moved east -- don't worry, I have it in perspective!) and the new owners of my home would like all of their shingles to be in one piece, thankyouveruhmuch, so I have thrown a roofer who REALLY likes to ring my doorbell, insurance adjustors and paperwork into the mix.
Of course all of this Troy and I have tackled as a team, yet from 200 miles apart. Thank you, Lord, for electronic media!
Last week my parents came in and helped me pack. They are most precious and understand that my exercise is my sanity. They would send me on my way while they packed a box or 20. On one very brief run I ran by a vehicle that had been shoe polished: "I love you SO much!" on one window. "So glad you're mine!" on another. Didn't see the others. I'm sure they were equally gooey.
I smiled at the sentiment. I would have -- and probably have done -- equally sweet things. But to the shoe polish author I want to ask: "Are you all the way in? Will you still be there when it's hard? You're here for the better... what about the worse?"
Years ago I wrote about what real love looks like -- and it isn't pretty. It's slogging through times like these knowing you'll come out better.
Perhaps it's unfair to call this season of transition "worse" -- Troy and I have lived through the absolute worst a marriage could go through, and this is nowhere close. As long as two people are working together toward a common goal, it isn't the worse, no matter how far apart geography separates them. However, in no form or fashion can this be construed as one of the sunshiny parts of life, either.
I'm so thankful this season of separation is ending, but I know when it ends there will be a season of adjustment and healing. And, as in this season, God will be in it all.
To add to the cuckiness, two weeks ago there was a ginormous hail storm (that 2 days later produced horrifically deadly tornadoes as it moved east -- don't worry, I have it in perspective!) and the new owners of my home would like all of their shingles to be in one piece, thankyouveruhmuch, so I have thrown a roofer who REALLY likes to ring my doorbell, insurance adjustors and paperwork into the mix.
Of course all of this Troy and I have tackled as a team, yet from 200 miles apart. Thank you, Lord, for electronic media!
Last week my parents came in and helped me pack. They are most precious and understand that my exercise is my sanity. They would send me on my way while they packed a box or 20. On one very brief run I ran by a vehicle that had been shoe polished: "I love you SO much!" on one window. "So glad you're mine!" on another. Didn't see the others. I'm sure they were equally gooey.
I smiled at the sentiment. I would have -- and probably have done -- equally sweet things. But to the shoe polish author I want to ask: "Are you all the way in? Will you still be there when it's hard? You're here for the better... what about the worse?"
Years ago I wrote about what real love looks like -- and it isn't pretty. It's slogging through times like these knowing you'll come out better.
Perhaps it's unfair to call this season of transition "worse" -- Troy and I have lived through the absolute worst a marriage could go through, and this is nowhere close. As long as two people are working together toward a common goal, it isn't the worse, no matter how far apart geography separates them. However, in no form or fashion can this be construed as one of the sunshiny parts of life, either.
I'm so thankful this season of separation is ending, but I know when it ends there will be a season of adjustment and healing. And, as in this season, God will be in it all.
Friday
Thursday
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
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
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