Mistake #12,356 - Give or Take

Flubbed up today. Just another one to add to the list, I suppose. One day far, far, far into the future I will be mature and wise enough to laugh at this stuff.  Just not today...

At approximately 2:06 pm, I was running behind and rushed down the stairs to hop into my car to pick up Caitlin. Rushing and running = no keys.

No keys. No spare discreetly placed outside. Husband 2.5 hours away. One baby girl expecting to see her momma pull up to the sidewalk in a black Chevy Malibu in t minus 22 minutes.

Blessing from above, the school is seriously within walking distance. Needless to say I had a few moments to go over what a bonehead Mommy I can be.

I have locked her in the house - me outside watching her 2 year old self hold the keys up to the lock and giggle.

I have locked her in the car - me outside, in the middle of Fink's parking lot while she was strapped into her car seat and I contemplated breaking the window to get to her. 

And I have now locked both of us out of the house.  That's not even the tippy tip of the ice berg of my faux pas.

She is riding her bike in the sunshine washed driveway, thoroughly enjoying herself. So, no major damage from seeing her mother huff and puff up the sidewalk with a pink fleece tied around her abundant hips. I will count that as a victory.

Something else dawned on me too....the devil may laugh at my mistakes and my quirks. He may tell me I am a screw up and that every misstep I make equals failure. And he does and lots of times, I am gullible enough to listen.

But today, loud and clear, I heard the voice of the Creator of my soul, the One who loves me beyond measure tell me to laugh too. He has made me exactly the way I am. There is a purpose to my absolute lack of perfection in any realm of my life.

It ended up being a sweet time of reminders of His provision: school close enough to walk to, the opportunity to show my girl that nothing will keep me from getting back to her, a sweet family friend who is currently enroute with my mom's key to our house, and the two sweet ladies who offered to drive us home.

He takes care of everything, ya'll. Right down to this 60 degree afternoon in December.  He is good!

A Call to Action

Hey, folks!

Please take a moment to pray for a special family that we have the pleasure of knowing. 

A sweet boy named Tyler and his family are in the early stages of a fight against retinoblastoma.  He is 4 and has just completed his first round of chemo.

Please, please pray for this family.  God is working for them and he is already working through them.  It is inspiring to read a post from his mom asking for prayer for another family.  If we ask, He will give healing, peace, comfort and strength. 

Below you will find a link to a site you can help them through.  I know you may never have met them and may never will.  I covet your prayers for them and any way you choose to support them. 

Thanks ya'll!

https://www.giveforward.com/fundraiser/37j3/tyler-shannon-retinoblastoma-fund

Chasing Rabbits

I was thinking about that movie "A Christmas Story" the other day. I was never particularly a fan of the flick, but my man sure is. Over the last 10 Christmases we have had together, we have not missed watching Ralphie at least once and sometimes multiple times. (Thanks to TBS running it over and over and over and over and over...and over again on Christmas day.)

So, there I was the other day, almost getting excited over the fact that it will be time to curl up with my fam on the couch and see whether or not Ralphie gets his Red Rider BB gun again this year. And then my mind went down a rabbit trail. A fairly strange one that gave birth to this post. Are you ready to get a glimpse of where I went?

Ralphie's Old Man and his leg lamp have a lot to say about marriage.

Told you it was a weird trip.  But, before you go clickin' the little "x" and shutting this thing down, let me explain the twist and turns to see if it comes out to make some kind of sense.

The crate arrives, marked "FRAGILE".  Ralphie's Old Man says, "Fra-gee-lay.  It must be Italian!"

Aren't we a lot like that when we get married?  Our spouse has all sorts of labels on them, baggage that they carry with them. And more often than not, we ignore them completely.  Or misread or misinterpret them. 

We look at them like they are some sort of exotic prize.  As if what is on the inside can only be sunshine and roses and romance.  We may have a hint that they are "FRAGILE", but we don't focus on it. 

I am not saying that we don't walk into the relationship knowing our mates, but sometimes we romanticize who they are and who they will become.  Until we can't....and then we have a choice to make.

The Old Man digs down into the crate, hay and stuffing flying.  All the while exclaiming over what it could be.  "It's a major award".  "It could be a bowling alley". And then he pulls out THE LAMP.

The lamp, of course, is awful.  I personally would not want that thing in my front window for all the world to see either.  Thankfully, my man does not work crosswords and mail them in for sweepstakes.  With our "luck", we definitely would win one of those things. 

Anyway, back to my weird train of thought.  WE ARE THE LAMP.  Not a single one of us, in my opinion, will live out our lives with our spouses without looking at them and wondering "What in the world?!" or "Who are you?!" or very possibly "What was I thinking?".  And on the flip side, you can bet your partner has looked at you with those same questions buzzing between their ears. 

We are fragile, broken, selfish humans - not at all the romantic win we envisioned being.  We scrub and we rub against our mates with our words and actions.  What is roaming around on our insides rise to the surface and it is not always attractive and lovable.

Yet, we are still in this thing with a choice to make.

The Old Man looks at it, loves it, and begins searching for the best place to display it for everyone to see.

That's our choice - do we treasure this thing anyway?  Even though it doesn't look, feel, and fulfill us the way our rosy, love struck minds anticipated.  When all we are left standing with is a proverbial leg lamp and not the "bowling alley" we were dreaming of?

I will admit that I have been leg lamp in our relationship. I see it very clearly.   My man got one FRAGILE FRA-GEE-LAY woman.  I did not intentionally bait and switch, but it happened.  Despite my best intentions, the crazy seeped out all over him - between the anxiety attacks, personal baggage from my childhood that keeps me struggling to be confident in how much he loves me, the post partem depression that would have caused a less godly man to run out the front door and never look back, and the "only child syndrome" that pops out in whining and complaining,  he has had very few and short glimpses of who he thought I was when he married me.

Yet, he's here.  Isn't that romantic?  He still puts me out for all the world the see as his wife.  Treats me like a major award - knowing all the while that I am cracked, broken, and taped together (thankfully by the hand of God).    

I really used to think the romance of marriage was in trips and dates, gifts, and thoughtfulness that included flowers and sweet words.  Those are awesome and necessary every now and again.  But God has showed me the romance is in the staying.  In the valuing the other person for who He made them - even knowing that they are fully, fallibly, sinfully, and selfishly human. 

When we do this thing right - with God enabling us, isn't it beautiful?  It doesn't look anything like the movies....more like Christ and the church.  It's dawning on me (albeit slowly) that there isn't anything more beautiful than that.  Than sticking with it, serving when it's underserved, and loving beyond reason. 

We need to stop defining romance by rom coms and novels.  Or songs we hear on the radio and what others post on their Facebook profiles. 

God's got this thing no matter where you are and what is happening in your situation...He's got this thing and He is going to make it beautiful.

Uh Oh, Here We Go...

Ok.  To preface this post, I have to warn that some of you reading may think that my crazy train has derailed in Kooks-ville when you are finished with this post.  Not necessarily encouraging only 3 posts in, is it?  But, this post has been rolling all over my mind for the last couple of days.

So, here we go.

I am a believer.  My life's goal is to be a genuine, authentic, tried and true, undeniable Jesus freak.  I obviously still have a lot of growing, maturing, and living to do in order to truly claim that description.  Obviously.

It's hard for me to say that out loud, actually.  Or type it.  There's a certain amount of accountability that comes along with sharing that with other people.  If you know what I'm living for, then I have to be more purposeful in living it out. 

Anyway, I digress. 

When my man and I first had our baby girl and Halloween came around, the only thing he asked was that I didn't buy her any kind of devil costume.  Which, I thought was silly - for a very long time.  Like, kinda whacko.  But, I loved him and so I went with it.  Besides, not what I have ever wanted to dress her as anyway.  Compliance is easy when it's not something you were ever interested in to begin with.

He was on to something though.

We put our kids in "Little Devil" onesies.  Laugh, if the writing is good, when the little pointy tail, horned red guy pops up on the main character's shoulder in a cartoon or sitcom.  Say, "the devil made me do it" when we eat one too many sweets.  Or some deny his existence at all.

But, ya'll, the enemy of our souls is for real.  He is not cute.  He is not funny.  He is not to be taken lightly.  And, he doesn't care if you believe in him or not.

He is out to distract us.  Devour us.  Lock us down in his mangy lion jaws and keep us from taking any more steps forward while he tells us that comfort and our selfish desires are worth whatever it takes to obtain them.

He is mean and he is cruel.  He seeks to paralyze us from moving toward the life God created us for.  From being effective in any real way. 

Ever since I made the decision to begin the blog, I have felt pressed by doubt and self consciousness.  Worried that the ugly baggage I carry disqualifies me from typing one single word that will matter.  Because, let's face it, my baggage is not cute knockoff Louis Vuitton.  It's closer to mismatched thrift store pieces that are held together with big ugly pieces of dirty duck tape - just ready to spill out everywhere and leave a mess all over the place. 

But for the grace of God.  He is so good.

The point of all that is - God already defeated him and his time grows short.  Please do not be deceived by any of the whisperings that say "you can't", "you shouldn't", "it's not worth it", "get back to whatever you came out of because it is all you'll ever know" or whatever manner of junk he is spewing that he wants you to buy.

You were made for more.  It may be painful.  It may be uncomfortable to bust out of the box you are living in, but the Creator of this Universe has higher ground for you.  Find out who He says you are and tell those other voices to zip it.

You were made for more. 

Things That Make You Go Mmmm...

Apparently my first attempt at making a pumpkin roll does not belong on any list of things that make you go "Mmmm". In fact, the best my mom could come up after her first (and only) bite was "uh uh". OUCH...

My inner Martha Stewart is still crying over it. Thankfully, my inner "daughter of the King who was created to do good works that He has prepared for me in advance" has started to recover more quickly. It seems like homemade pumpkin rolls are not going to be part of my legacy. I can accept that.

I will keep searching for that one thing that I make better than any other that makes my family smile and think of how much I love them - even of it is one "uh uh" outcome after another until we get there.

Be encouraged friends!

Something So Simple

Not too very long after this blog went live (literally just a handful of hours), I had the opportunity to make a choice between my old way of viewing things and the new path my feet are set on.  I haven't walked far enough in this journey to not be tempted to jump back across the fork in the road to what is familiar.  Namely, in this instance, warranted and justifiable frustration that is accompanied most often by blustering and loud outburst of some sort.  And it was all thanks to my sweet baby girl. 

 

Cute isn't she? All smiles and sweetness looking right into the camera on a sunny day.  Ahh...I love these moments.  And I am very glad I have captured so many on film and in my memory. 

She does not always look at me like this.  Particularly when we are selecting clothes on a school morning.  Something about picking out an outfit for the day brings out the foot-stompin' crazy in her.  To be clear, we have tried picking everything out the in advance.  It doesn't seem to make much of a difference. 

The problem comes in when she is told to wear pants (primarily on days that she has a PE rotation).  Telling her ahead of time does no good.  She still winds up a heap of hot mess in the floor somewhere in our house. 

And it DRIVE ME BANANAS.  Honestly, part of it is that I just want her to be obedient.  But, after taking the time to think about what the issue really is, it boils down to this:

"But, I am not pretty in pants".

That one little statement makes me all the more determined for her to put the pants on.  There is very little chance after those words flow out of those 5 year old lips that another outfit will be selected.  Period.

"But, I am not pretty in pants".

It floors me every time she says it.  Is she really old enough to be processing things this way?  Has marketing and these kiddie shows that are so mature beyond their audience getting to her already?  Telling her the way things work in this world?

My admission about making her wear pants may seem like I am going overboard to some - maybe even most people.  (Definitely to her sweet grandmother.) But I don't feel like I have a choice.  Here's why.

It is my job as her mama to help her as she begins to develop her view of herself.  I am charged with this and believe that I will be held accountable for it as a part of the sum total of my motherhood when I stand before the Lord someday.  Thankfully, He is gracious, good and patient seeing as how I struggle with being successful at so many parts of this mothering thing.

My point is that it is important for me to begin now reinforcing that clothes and looks and so many other things are not truly a part what makes her beautiful. They can make you feel prettier, sure.  I will agree with that.  I understand that she loves frilly, sparkly, princess things.  It's wonderful that she enjoys being feminine and girly.  That's important too.

However, it can't be a major part of where she derives her feelings of worth - even at this young age.  She has to learn to believe the truth -- it's how God made her and put her together that makes her so amazingly and unchangingly beautiful.  It's the things He has planned for her to do in this life that makes her special.

Just as a side note:  the very morning that this post came from had a lot of fussing over black pants.  When we pulled up to school, Catie's principal was standing out front.  My girl loves this sweet lady and admires her very much already even though we are only a little over 9 weeks into school.  She is standing there in the same color shirt and pants that Catie's in!  What a great moment God gave us in the car to talk quickly about how lovely Mrs. H looked in her outfit!  He had such sweet, wonderful timing, doesn't He?

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.  Proverbs 31:29-31

That's the bottom line.  It's pretty counter cultural in our American society when you really think about it.  So, call me a rebel.  This rebel has a cause and she is so worth it.

Purpose & Meaning

Hi, ya'll!

Welcome to the inaugural post of my blog!  I can't guarantee that genius will make an appearance, but hopefully this will be a fun journey.  I am not sure where it will take me, but I am ready to put my feet in forward motion.

My aim is that, through this blog, I will be able to share and focus in on the joy of the life I am blessed to be living.  I will be sharing the exciting moments, the mundane, the mountaintop triumphs, and the face-flat-mud-wallowing failures in the hopes that the joy that is present in all of it will become clearer to me.  And, hopefully, the joy in your own life might become more clear too.

Like I said, the posts may not be consistently thought provoking, enlightening, or maybe even all that witty.  There could be some entertainment though, via those face-flat-mud-wallowing failure type moments  - there are lots of those around here, folks.  I do aim to be authentic, even if it is boring or incorrect or just plain weird (which, let's face it, it probably will be at times).

There is beauty to be found in each breath God has given us to take in and let out.  I am setting out to be done with feeling like happiness will come when I get it all together and figured out.  Too many sweet things have been lost while my perspective was locked on what was ahead, down the road, coming next rather than what was in the now, here, and passing away before my eyes. 

This life we're living may not always be pretty. Might not always be fun or sweet, hopeful or comfortable.  But, there is always joy to be mined.  Love to be experienced.  Growth that needs occur. 

James 1:2-8 says:

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds,  because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.  Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. (NIV)

I am ready to break out of this whiny toddler mindset I have been clinging that says if things aren't going my way, then it's not good enough.  I'm ready to get some maturity.   Let's find us some happy, some laughter, and a little more elevated outlook.

Will you come along with me?  Encourage me when I hit a bump in the road that leaves me rolling in the dirt throwing a tantrum? Allow me to encourage you when I can?

I'm in.  Let's start counting it up.