Friday, October 14, 2011

…and then I cried

Friends have always been easy for me to make.

You show me a hint of a smile and I’ll talk to you for hours.

You try to ignore me and I’ll do all I can to make it impossible.

Share the same interest and I’ll find a way for us to do it together.

I love people… I don’t like them all… but I do love them. ;)

But best friends are different.

Best friends are the ones you can text at midnight about silly stuff. They wake at the crack of dawn and go to the farmer’s market with you. They spend all day Sunday with you at church and at each other’s home. You can talk about anything and never feel judged. They would never dream of hurting you and do all they can to make you feel loved.

Best friends are hard to find.

…and when they move away, your heart breaks.

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Fill Me

Last week I was talking with a friend about an experience I had. One of those revelations you get, but decide, for some stupid reason to not put in to practice. I told her about walking to the pantry with the mindset that I wanted a snack, even though I had just had lunch. I stopped for just a second and asked God to ‘fill me so I wouldn’t do it’… and He did. And I was surprised. What a lame Christian I am. Still doubting after all He’s done.

Before I could finish she was jumping off the couch and heading down the hallway with a quick, “I’ll be right back.” Seconds later she hands me a book, “Made to Crave” by Lysa Terkeurst. I scanned the cover, thought, “Oh, I like that cute red fridge” and then read a page… I liked it. I had to read it. I bought my own book just days later. I can’t put it down.

I’d love to go on and on about the book and tell you what all I’ve marked, highlighted and repeated to others, but I’ll let you discover your favorites from the book if you decide to read it. What I will tell you is that now I realize that ‘silly experiment’ was just a glimpse at what’s possible in our everyday lives if we’d just… ask.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Justice and Forgiveness

A few days ago I was having some issues with Justice. Mostly back talking. It’s happening a lot more lately. After a full day of; but, how come, why, I’d had enough. I told her to go to her room.

We spank in our house, but on rare occasions.

The process is pretty simple, a reminder of what she did wrong (she’s well versed in why she shouldn’t back talk… including the worst case scenario of “if you’re too busy back talking you might get yourself hurt”.)
Second step is time out.
Third is taking privileges away. (That day it was Netflix.) And still she back talked.
The fourth and final step is a spanking. I hate spankings. : (

It was near bedtime when I told her to go to her room; I was in the middle of bathing the twins. It gave me some time to think about what I would say to her and how we could stop the endless questioning. Each time I brought a baby to the room to dry off and dress she’d be crying and pleading for me not to spank her.

*I’d like to point out that I have a very light hand. Usually before the last swat she’s sitting up and apologizing and saying she promises to never do it again. But it seems the wait was more painful to her.

By the time I was done with the twins and had them down for the night she was sobbing, the pitiful kind where she couldn’t catch her breath. She was trying to tell me how she knew she shouldn’t back talk and that she knew I just wanted her to do her chores so that life would be easier for all of us. And we could spend more time enjoying each other. She went on and on… it was killing me.

I laid down beside her and asked her why she always had to question me when she knew what she was to do each day and had already been given answers when the chores were set out months ago. She didn’t have a real answer, but between sobs she said, “Can you forgive me?”

At this point Tommy had come to the room ready for prayers. He wasn’t sure what all had happened that day because he had worked late and I hadn’t had time to explain. He sat on the other side of the bed as she pleaded her case, repeating over and over again, “Please forgive me.” Thankfully the lights were off and only the night light was on… I couldn’t stop my own tears. Tommy bowed his head, no doubt just as emotional.

I pulled her to me, asked if she deserved it (only to stall for time since I couldn’t speak yet) and I was surprised when my 7-year old daughter, the back talker, the one who questions every step said,

“No one deserves forgiveness.”

Here was JUSTICE, asking for FORGIVENESS, knowing she didn’t deserve it.

*Did I spank her? Of course not… we prayed.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Summer break begins... God help me, PLEASE!

Today is the first day of summer break. I have three kids, but only one that is school aged. Justice, our first, the one who was born in to her name and embraced it… totally and completely; she is a mini-me. Not crazy obsessed with neatness, although she’s no slob… but in attitude. Things are black and white and nothing is forgotten. ::sigh:: She wears me out, pushes my limits, can have me raising my voice before my first cup of coffee and yet makes me so proud.

She’s an artist. In just a matter of minutes she can draw more emotion in a picture then many can write in pages of words. She’s talented. I want to encourage that.

Problem is I have no patience with her. I can roll out of bed with the best of intentions and then she starts singing at the top of her lungs. She asks for paper, easily 30 to 40 pieces a day. She leaves her things out and whines when her brother and sister destroy them. She slams doors. She leaves doors open. She runs in the house. She skips in the house. (Pier and beam home owners get this.) She irritates her brother and sister. She complains about what we’re having for breakfast, for lunch, for dinner… for snacks. She drives me nuts.

She’s a comedian. She tells the worst jokes, but when she’s telling a story and not trying to make you laugh, she has you rolling. Her timing is perfect. Her observations are hysterical. I love this little girl, I just haven’t figured out how to live with this little girl.

…and here we are, summer break. Three months of 24/7 with each other…

Don’t worry friends… I promise NOT to pray for patience. ;)

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Missed Opportunities

I watched a woman sitting in a corner, not saying a word, yet seeing so many emotions go across her face… but because of fear I didn’t ask her what it was.

I sat across from a friend who told me how lost and lonely she was, and how much she trusted me… but I didn’t take the time to ask how I could help.

I was asked to pray… but because my words sound so childlike and are deeply personal I didn’t.

I can stand in front of a crowd of virtual strangers and do the silliest of things, but when it has meaning, when it has purpose… I worry what they might think.

I am such a coward. I’m so worried that I’ll look like a fool… that I do foolish things.

Isaiah 41:13 (NIV) For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear: I will help you.

Perhaps coward isn’t the right word… unbelieving… that hits closer to the heart.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Wandering in the Wilderness

I used to read the story of the Israelites in Exodus and roll my eyes. How could they see all those miracles and still harden their hearts against God? What more did He have to do?! The same with the story of Job and his wife; I felt sorry for Job losing all his children and being stuck with ‘the nag’.

But I don’t read them the same way anymore.

Now I wonder how many Israelites couldn’t see past their tiredness, their own individual hardships and hurt. I wonder if they felt like God was leading Moses and they were just tagging along, no more important than the livestock. I think about Job’s wife losing all her children. It wasn’t just Job being affected by all the hardships, his wife was too. I can’t even wrap my mind around losing all my children for the sake of a test… directed at my husband.

Nope, I don’t read those stories the same way anymore.

Does that mean I trust God less? That I don’t see His miracles or feel His presence? Not at all; I just see more clearly those on the fringe who feel the wrath and not the peace. I know what it’s like to take a leap of faith and not land softly, but instead hit all the jagged edges. I know what being tested looks like… and I know how failure feels. Like the Israelites I saw the miracles, felt the freedom and still hardened my heart against God.

It’s a sad thing when you realize you’re no different than the people you once rolled your eyes at. That your faith isn’t even that of a mustard seed but instead a mere particle of dust that can float away with the lightest of breeze; faith isn’t faith till it’s tested.

As strong as I thought my faith was, as many calls as I heard and leaps I took, I failed a major test and feel like I’m starting all over again… so glad God allows do overs.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

I used to blog

I used to blog...

I blogged about how God was moving in my life

I blogged about a prayer that lead me to leave my job of nearly 12-years

I blogged about my new life as a SAHM

I blogged about my very funny and creative daughter

I blogged about my husband who was both inspiring and frustrating

I blogged about the 14-acres and a pond we were planning on buying

I blogged about Tommy leaving his job of 14-years and starting a new one out west

I blogged about selling our 'dream' house, our things and moving into our RV

I blogged about country life and raising chickens

I blogged about depression

I blogged about my 2nd miscarriage

I blogged about feeling abandoned by God

I stopped blogging...