This Piece of Time

I'm not someone to choose a word for my year or set out with any big aspirations for change.  Likely because I am a fair amount of lazy and avoid disappointment at all costs.  God knows that about me, so He tends to take care of the planning and usually by December I have realized what it is I was suppose to learn.  If not, he always lets me repeat the lesson.  He's real generous like that.   So, after spending 2017 stepping into youth ministry and feeling BRAVE I headed into 2018 like David after Goliath.  I mean, God was for sure using me for some giant situations! He had given me a passion that excited and inspired me in a way I had never before experienced. People around me noticed. I was ready to take on the world.   Then, slowly but surely, the path I envisioned started to fade.  The ways I intended to use my passion fell away and I was left with a dream that had no real path.  Now don't get me wrong, He was still using me....

The urge to write is a fickle friend.  I can go months and months without a single word and then suddenly she yells so loudly, I can’t help but answer her call.  Come to think, it’s not all that different from parenting an introverted teenager.  So here I go……. Last week I text a friend and told her that I felt unqualified.   Not overwhelmed or stressed or over-committed, just heavy.   Like the weight of all the things that surround me are more than I could ever have the capacity to mend or relieve. Questions I can't answer, needs I can't meet, fears I can't comfort, wounds I can't heal.  The resources, gifts and wisdom I bring feel so insignificant.   Like a little boy with his sack lunch looking at a crowd of hungry people.    Almost instantly, I heard God speak to my heart “This is where I use you best.   When all you have is all I gave, that’s when I shine.” When the need is greater than I possess, that’s when He multiplies...

I have been thinking on the Wise Men this week.  There are so many details of the Christmas story that are remarkable, but as we move towards the New Year, I am fascinated by these men who went searching for a king only to find a baby.  All of their studying, planning and traveling lead them to the most unexpected of places.  The Wise Men were given a promise that they would receive a king and they had a star to guide them.  I dare say that had they known they were searching for a baby with a virgin, teen mother, they may not have traveled so willingly!  These men moved without knowing all the details.  They followed even when they didn't know what was waiting for them.  Annie Downs says that God lets us dream in pieces because the greatness of His plan would overwhelm us.  So many times in scripture we find God asking men and women to just do big things.  David, Ester, Jonah, Noah, Moses......fight the giant, use your voice, take the tri...

 In case your keeping track, we are skipping March and April.   Partly because  I don't remember much about those months  and mostly because I can.  May was about to leave them in the dust anyway. When I sat down in January to assign each month's verse, I found myself stuck on May.  I am not so naive to believe I don't have idols, I just wasn't clear on what they were or how to narrow my focus.  I left the card blank, trusting I would have clarity in time.   May began with a blank card and a full schedule.  I was doing what I love. Pouring myself into people and projects and having a blast.  (You already know I thrive in chaos. It is, quite possibly, my spiritual gift.) In the midst of all that crazy, I had a brief conversation, like less than 5 minutes, when I verbally committed to step into something I had been wrestling with for about 3 months.  I had known the answer for some time, but this was the first time I w...

"Let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth."  1 John 3:18 If being quiet didn't kill me in January, limiting screens was going to give it a go in February.  Who's idea was this anyway?? As I thought through this month, it quickly occurred to me that my use of screens is directly related to my addiction to noise.  This is most obvious when I find myself scrolling through my phone as I listen to the person sitting across from me.  I lie to myself (and everyone else) saying I can do it all, but they know better.  They feel my disconnect.   Not only have my children spoken the words..... "She's always on her phone" but I have begun to feel the disconnect myself.  I cannot ask of them what I am not will to do myself. It doesn't matter how boring the playground drama or how little I understand of the Star War theories.  My lack of Minecraft knowledge doesn't excuse my distraction.  Little thin...

"Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in Him."  Psalm 62:5 January challenged me to Embrace Quiet.  I'll give you a moment to stifle your laughter.   Quiet and I don't get along.  My life is not quiet.  My brain is not quiet.  My mouth is certainly not quiet! In college, I avoided the library at all costs.  I studied in the lounge with all the chaos possible.  My grades may or may not have reflected such choices.   Needless to say, this month tested me. Coming out of Christmas, we enter one of my busiest months at work and two birthdays in our house. I realized quickly that even when my surroundings are finally still, I am anything quiet.  My body can rest, but mind and spirit are always spinning.  Planning, solving, rehashing, digesting.... I don't stop.  Ever.  There are times when the radio is off for most of the day and I drive around completely oblivious.  I can't hear the sile...

I don't do resolutions.  I refuse to diet.  In life, I prefer small changes over radical transformations.   I'm not a dreamer. Lofty goals and challenges feel overwhelming to me.  Maybe I'm a pessimist.  Maybe I'm boring.  It's possible I have no drive. The truth is I avoid the possibility of disappointment at all costs. So when I stumbled across Ann Voskamp's New Year, New You Solutions, it caught my attention.  This is manageable.  I can do this.  There is no room for disappointment, just growth. A few years ago, we were attending a party and my daughter noticed a bag of lime tortilla chips.  Her face lit up and she reminded me how we used to eat those chips while watching Say Yes to the Dress after naptime.  I hadn't thought of those quiet afternoons until then, but the memory came quickly. With big sister at school and her baby brother sleeping, my sweet redhead would finish her rest time and come sneaking out to jo...

I love Thanksgiving.  It marks the beginning of all things "holiday".  I love the lighting of Christmas lights downtown on Wednesday night, the day of family and food on Thursday, and 12 blissful hours of shopping, and just being, with my mom on Friday.  But my favorite part of Thanksgiving has become the counting of blessings.  The focus on gratitude.  The intentional listing of both great and small.  This has become my joy. The simple act of choosing thanks can transform perspective.  The hardest of thanks can lift a spirit out of the trenches that engulf.  And while I cannot begin to explain this phenomenon as eloquently as Ann Voskamp has in One Thousand Gifts , I have been profoundly changed by it's reach.  For more than five months, I have been marinating in these lessons of gratitude and working to find grace in the hard.  And then yesterday, she spoke straight to my heart. "If I close these fingers, try to hold, hoard the ri...

It's hard to say just how I feel.  After eight months of living in limbo, we are still waiting.  Nearly all of our belongings are in storage, our dog is living with our family, and we have no address to forward our mail.  This is hard.  The waiting. Even still, I am grateful.  For an affordable furnished apartment.  For a school our daughters love.  For the comforts of "home".  For the time to find our next.  For a God who provides beyond our needs.  The waiting has left me tired.  The urgency of my prayer is gone.  I cannot will a house to list, so I have thrown my hands up in surrender.  "Do you know I'm worn out?"  Lately, those are the only words I have to speak.  I have quit asking.  Quit pleading.  Quit hoping.  I just wait. I know He can.  I believe He will.  But do I matter?  Maybe this is all part of the waiting.  For a house, for a child, for a spouse, for ...

"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." Isaiah 41:10 What began as a VBS memory verse has quickly turned into the theme of our summer.  As we walk this road of uncertainty, we cling to the truth that God is with us.  He has gone before us and will provide the strength to finish this adventure.  Part of that journey is a new school for our girls.  For Brooklyn, this is just a small change.  Kindergarten is a year of new friendships, schedules, and teachers.  For her, the location has changed, but the experience remains the same.  As a third grader, Paige's year is completely different.  New building, teachers, and, most importantly, friends.  As I drove my nervous girl to school yesterday, we lifted our voices to the Lord and I fought back tears.  I reassured her that she would have friends, t...

What a crazy month!  I would fill you in on all of the nonsense, but quite frankly, I don't have the time.  I am writing this post for one very important reason.  My Brooklyn has turned six.  She actually had her birthday on Saturday while we were moving all of our belongings into storage.  Like I said, no time.  Despite the craziness of our week, we made sure that B got her special day.  A party at Glow Golf with her friends last Friday, breakfast for dinner (aka brinner) with our families on Wednesday, and Chick-fil-a and Cold Stone Saturday evening.  I don't think she noticed that we weren't with her for 90% of her actual birthday.  At least I hope she didn't.  If we could sum up Brooklyn at six we would say sassy, sweet, and sensitive.  She cries at the sight of blood, has a heart for others, and has picked up the phrase "Seriously?!?" and a wicked eye roll.  Her favorite things are her American Girl do...

Ten years of marriage.  3,653 days of learning. Learning that he would rather eat cereal than most any meal.  ...... to button the top button on his shirts when I hang them.  ......the correct way to remove a seat belt (still working on that one) ...... to identify the sound of him gagging when the diaper is too gross ....... and getting there before it's too late ........that the draft will ALWAYS fall on our anniversary weekend.  ........ to fall asleep before the snoring begins.  ........ the art of wrinkle free sheets ........they ways he feels loved ........the delicate art of fighting fair ........to tag team the chaos The list could go on and on.  And it will.  We will never stop learning and we will never stop needing to learn.  This thing called marriage is tough.  Ten years ago we began our lives together in a little townhouse with empty closets and little furniture.  Now, our closets...

I'm having one of those life events that make you want to throw up and cry all at the same time.  Not that anything is actually "wrong".  I'm just so scared of the unknown that I can barely think straight.  For weeks I have been praying that God would make himself known.  That it would be unavoidably obvious the direction we should go.  Yet, the minute that God does something HUGE.  Something completely unexpected and totally obvious.  I FREAK out.  I have no peace.  Seeing the path is no longer good enough.  Now I want the destination too.  I want to see the whole staircase, not just this step.  How quickly I disregard his direction.  My fear and anxiety over the unknown overshadow the gift of known.  Nothing is ever enough.  This afternoon I drove through town with two little ones giggling in the backseat and I poured my heart out. I sang through my sobs and I laid it down.  At his fe...

It's been a long two weeks.  That may be the understatement of the year.  Twelve days at home with sick kids.  I don't even have the words.  What I can tell you is that after a run like we've just had patience is running on empty.  I have been nurse, short order cook, cleaning lady, laundromat, and comforter for 288 hours straight.  Tonight I hit my breaking point.  I won't bore you with the play-by-play, but it basically involved three kids, lots of mud and a garden hose.  I lost it.  Now, I could say that an eight year old knows better than to smear mud on the sliding glass door or to spray her brother with the hose in 50 degree weather, but, as my mother reminds me so often, "she's only eight".  Should she do those things? No.  Did she deserve to be yelled at? I don't think so.  I am so grateful that tonight my attitude didn't get in the way of my guilt. (As it often does.) After starting some mac-n-cheese, ...

Yesterday, Paige celebrated her eighth birthday.  I am completely overwhelmed with emotion when I think about that little girl.  Our journey has not been an easy road.  She has all too often pushed me to my limit and then, knocked me right over the edge.  I have spent the past 8 years crying, praying, yelling, and questioning.  I am not qualified to raise this little girl.  She needs so much more than I have to give.  And yet, God continues to remind me that we were made for each other.  This little girl is EXACTLY who I need.  And she needs me.  My emotion does not come from a place of sadness or frustration.  Oh, those have had their times, but this emotion comes from a place of gratefulness and pride.  Not in the job that I have done, but in the young lady Paige is becoming and the lessons she has taught me along the way.  Her story may just be beginning but it already screams of the One who has great plans for her li...

Today Emerson turned three.  I had our whole morning planned out.  Starbucks, party supply shopping, Build-a-Bear, Auntie Anne's and a birthday cookie. Emerson had plans to ride an elevator.  He failed to share those plans with me. I was watching him.  My eyes never left his little body as he walked down the rows of shoes at Macy's.  When he ducked into an alcove, I watched until he popped back out and continued down the row.  When he got to the second doorway, I expected the same but he never popped back out.  I went after him thinking he would be hiding in the corner.  He wasn't there.   An elevator door stared back at me.  When the doors opened the revealed an empty shell.  My baby was gone. The next ten minutes might as well have taken three days.  The Macy's managers and security team scrambled over the first and third floors searching for my boy.  I stood helpless in the hallway watching the elevator doors open...

I've mentioned before that my kids have different and distinct love languages.  Despite my intentions to read the book "5 Love Languages" I have not.  I do know the basic premise of the book (thanks to my mother) and can identify the tendencies in both Adam and I and our kids.  Paige made it clear early on that she was a quality time kid.  Sometime last year, we realized that Brooklyn's dependence on us is rooted in a need for service.  We speak to her through our acts of service.  Last week, it dawned on me that Emerson is a physical touch kid.  Go figure.  Like father like son.  Every night, Emerson insists that I lay with him in bed while we read.  If I hurry bedtime, he cries for me to "hold him".  In the grocery store, he insists that I carry him while I push the cart (Which is nearly impossible when the cart is full and the aisles are crowded.)  This has lead to many a screaming fit.  He doesn't handle it...

I have been struggling to write lately.  The desire is there but the subject matter eludes me.  Nothing has driven me to a place of inspiration.  I started watching my calories this week, but who wants to read a whole post about my issues with self-control?!  There have been some major things going on in the lives of those around me, but I don't express myself well when the wounds are raw, so those will have to wait.  It just so happens that a friend posted about the things her kids are teaching her and that inspired me to do the same.  I am currently reading a book by Angela Thomas (who I LOVE) called "52 Things Kids Need from Their Mom".  It has inspired me to take a closer look at my relationship with my kids and to be more intentional with the little things I do everyday.  I plan to write more on that later, but this new awareness has only helped me pinpoint the ways my kids are teaching me. At almost eight years old, Paige is teaching me ...

What I'm about to say may shock you.  My kids don't "believe" in Santa.  They never have. What I mean is: My kids know that Santa is not real.  They know that the man at the mall is in costume, just like the caracters at Disney World.  They understand that we pretend Santa is real and that he brings us presents, but really it's their parents who do the shopping.  I am honest with them when they ask, but I engage them when they pretend.  The other day I was asked if I was "pro-Santa" or "anti-Santa".  My answer was neither.   Why do I need to take a side?  I'm not "anti-Cinderella" or "pro-Micky Mouse".  These are just characters in stories that engage my kids imaginations.  I don't need to take a stance on an imaginary person.  I have friends that don't "do" Santa.  They don't want to take the focus off the real reason of this season.  While I completely understand and agree with their...

It's been a CRAZY month around here!  While it may have seemed I had fallen off the face of the Earth, the truth is quite the opposite.  I have been so buried in the chaos of fall activities, I haven't had time to come up for air. There have been a dozen posts floating around in my head, but I have yet to get them to paper.  Life seems to be taking a quick break before the holidays, so I will try to get some of them out before a second round of action ensues.  In the meantime, I will leave you with this story.  Brooklyn is my emotional child.  She cries with the flip of a switch.  She is highly emotional and overly dramatic.  Lately, her reactions have been even more exaggerated and frequent and it finally became more than I could handle.  After days of non-stop sobbing, I decided to try a positive approach.  We made a chart that reads "I Can Control My Emotions", we hung it in the kitchen, and bought a unicorn purse as a...