tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29196764541120525672024-02-18T18:31:02.703-08:00My Lips In Stitchesa blog about a girl learning to juggle wifery, mom'ing, my self & share MY truths one day at a time!a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.comBlogger231125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-70149897740726218282019-10-31T14:02:00.001-07:002019-11-03T15:33:21.392-08:00The Mother I Said I Would Be<style type="text/css">
p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke: #000000}
p.p2 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke: #000000; min-height: 12.0px}
span.s1 {font-kerning: none}
</style>
<br />
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">I find myself feeling the ways I swore to myself I never would.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">As the costumes begin to lose their appeal on Halloween, the embarrassment of ones parents begins to crouch in like a slow rolling fog, I feel it; I feel loss.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">It seems unfair that I haven’t enjoyed my children in full appreciation on so many occasions; that the endearment and cherishing have come only long after the moment has long since passed. There is a deep ache in looking back for me. I remember the baby cheeks, the giggles, the tiny hands in mine, but I also feel unbelievably removed from that place I once stood.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">I open the window to the past and I see the mother I was: tired, empty, frazzled. I see all of the space the well-meaning women in aisle ten said I should hold on to but I just couldn’t then. I see how naive I was to wish for eighteen to come so I could return to freedom and my husband.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Immediately I feel my jaw tighten, my nose sting and the lump in my throat. I can’t have windows here. I need doors. I need a three minute window opened to a lyrically sappy song that allows me to peek back, to feel, and then a swift, fast slamming of a solid piece of wood — what’s done is done; I am here now.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Doors are not new to me. I prefer them. I prefer what they keep out and that I don’t have to open them if I don’t want to. Windows are too much. They are a barrier and yet they let me see and know exactly what I have missed, what I am currently missing. No, I prefer a door - case closed, chapter over, moving on, the end.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">No one has to tell me that this is a maladaptive coping mechanism. I am deeply aware.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">I don’t want to analyze where it comes from, why it is there, or wish it away.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Perhaps my doors are unforgiveness, maybe they are hurt, but it is all just too deep to ponder when there is already enough depth for me to swim in long past the lifetime set before me.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: center;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://mylipsinstitches.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7F8UB872CtYz89hrXUW8MRBtUMJrSIBTCB-OezBwCYaNewdohNKpv-ltcqLax0DKl1QtBzO4CkiJDRQffmZLRN7JsKjJZBSJcKEAZOQxGTslI-iRtJK5GeGYoOYUBTbcKpDVE0LNRfg/s320/IMG_2182.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Costumes. Baby pictures from ten, nine, eight years ago, they have done this. They are today’s window that I wish so desperately I could stare at fondly then praise the vision of the young man before me today. Instead, I find my door,<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>with flailing hands I grasp for the handle and slam it shut. Catching my breath, I put my back to the door, bend my knees and slowly slump down. I pray my weight will be the doorstop - it cannot swing open if I stay there.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">This was not the mother I said I would be.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">I declared I would be in the moment I was in and get to the finish line. It is only now that I see the harsh reality — motherhood has <i>no</i> finish line. I am assigned to a lifetime of looking back, standing in the present, wishing for yesteryear and praying for tomorrow all at once, all the time.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Doors and windows. Windows and doors. This road of motherhood is the very heartbeat and heartbreak of me.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-22601939101348670942019-06-18T13:00:00.001-07:002019-06-18T13:34:24.593-07:00On the heels of HEALING<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.instagram.com/allegralove" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="672" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu6RPKyxkaOa2BR3erz4e6VuPs-lOos13s4CMp6P7YZPPqZ-tDuvk5x16kAx3TGm8faxE9lViFE__J6EmaaqeJgcp-wLUyL8b4YoDsDKuKnyMNjLmpcV5dDvwFJe0_QhkE7T8W74hHsbU/s400/A+W+A+K+E+N+I+N+G.png" width="285" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span id="goog_1051138298"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a><span id="goog_1051138299"></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">If ever there was a song that described my story - it is AWAKENING by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4FC0NYDE14E" target="_blank">Amanda Lindsey Cook</a>. </span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I don’t think many know my story, but I think all should...now. Why? Because it points to the unbelievable power of Christ and His redemptive intention for each of us. </span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">•</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I was diagnosed with depression when I was 14. I believe it was the onset of unfortunate life circumstances, but regardless, I was in it’s grip. I struggled with suicidal thoughts and found solace in cutting & isolation. None of it was because I wanted death, ALL of it was because I desired life & <i>feeling</i>. This may be impossible for the masses to understand, but for those who do, I see you. </span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">•</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">In 2004 I was physically healed by hands on prayer and confession that Jesus Christ was my Savior. I was set FREE from the chemical dependency! </span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I, cold turkey, went off of 7 years of medication I couldn’t break on my own and was FREE!</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">•</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">In 2011 my second son was born & I was slammed by postpartum depression. I was medicated once again & held back from returning to work.</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">•</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I</span></span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">n 2018, a medical professional</span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> advised I come off of medication and it was a new level of Hell in physical & mental side effects that I had never faced before. The physical & mental torture were nearly unbearable. I truly believed in that season I was never, EVER, going to escape depression & now the onset of anxiety. I was being tortured at a level I could not possibly convey. I was fighting for breath. </span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">•</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">In May of 2019 I showed up at the #HeavenCome19 conference believing I would walk out healed. Friday morning in my hotel room, I told my husband my act of faith was not taking my pills that morning. In a new level of relationship, he held me in his arms and prayed breakthrough over me. He came along side me, went ahead of me, joined me in believing He would show up. By noon, I was standing in a crowd of 7,000 receiving healing. <a href="https://krisvallotton.com/" target="_blank">Kris Vallotton</a> said he had a different message planned that morning but believed he needed to stop and pray for those struggling with anxiety & depression. </span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">•</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I wish I could say I stood instantly but I was frozen. This was my moment - the one I knew held my freedom, and s-l-o-w-l-y, I was digesting the reality. </span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">•</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I stood. As I did my throat began to burn - the very track my pills travelled every day manifested like it was on fire. The hands of strangers around me physically pressed in & Kris commanded the spirit of depression and anxiety to break off. I believed. </span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">•</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">It has been 25 days since I took my last pill & I am fully<b> physically side effect FREE and mentally released</b>. </span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">If you have ever been down the detox route, you know, it can produce hell on earth. There has been NO hell here. In 25 days, I have breathed, lived, & felt my healing. </span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">•</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I am “no longer stuck inside a shade of blue”.</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">“This is my awakening.</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">...while my heart was fast asleep,</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">JESUS was resurrecting me.</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I thought that I would never breathe.</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I thought the pain would never leave </span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">But JESUS is redeeming everything.”</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">•</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Jesus has healed me! </span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">He has restored a balance between my body & my mind!</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">•</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Professionals look at me like there must be a scientific explanation. </span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">People who don't know Him look at me like it makes no sense.</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Loved ones who know both Jesus & my 23 years of trial, see His awesome power. </span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">He can do what doesn't make sense, yet it ONLY makes sense within His authority, grace & love.</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">•</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">This is His story in me: </span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">“And he said to her, ‘Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace. Your suffering is over.’- Mark 5:34</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">•</span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">My suffering is over. </span></span></div>
<div class="m_7946791556426893950p1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="m_7946791556426893950s1"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">If He can do this for me, what MORE can He do for you!? </span></span></div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-89840802497851113712016-05-24T09:06:00.001-07:002016-05-24T09:06:39.334-07:00This is what Mom's do....I wouldn't call myself a helicopter parent.<br />
<div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In fact, I err more on the side of not wanting to upset the team, the school, the professionals, vs. raising cane on behalf of my sons.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I don't need my children to be the all star athlete (thank goodness, because they can't run without tripping), I don't need them to be straight A students (please don't be smarter than me!) & I don't need them to be the most popular (Actually, please don't be. That's too much unhealthy pressure!)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
What <i>do</i> I want for my children then? </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I want to figure out who <u>they</u> are & give them every damn opportunity to <u>be bold, confident and brave</u> in those areas! (And perhaps I want to infuse their lives with a bit of my own selfish passions like love of adventure & a heart for Jesus.)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In the past month my inner mama-bear has been tested.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We walked into a new school system with two months to go in the school year. It was quickly brought to my attention that my son is "behind his peers" and "it's on [me] to catch him up." I was less quickly given options, assistance, & direction. It really was ON me. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
At eight years old, my second grader is scholastically passionate and seemingly statistically average. What do I say to that? BE passionate, son! I don't care what grade you get; I care that you try your hardest, I care that your eyes light up when you imagine seeing the Statue of Liberty in person, I light up when you spew facts you learned in class or ask questions we have to look up answers for together. THAT is success to this mom. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have NO problem with my son having a deficit or area of improvement. I don't expect, need, or anticipate perfection, but if there IS an issue, I will do <b>whatever</b> I can to give my children a leg up, to bring their head to the surface, to throw them a life raft, and/or to provide them with opportunity. When my son's teacher told me he was behind I asked: what can I do, where can I go & how can I help? But instead of answers I got: google it.<br />
<br />
I started to feel crazy!<i> How far behind is he? How much help does he need? What kind of help does he need?</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I've been conflicted. I excused the teacher's distance with "it's the end of the school year....it must be frustrating to get a new student from a different state..." and I began to own what was "on me" to help him with. I began chasing down avenues for myself. I would not raise cane, it's <i>my</i> fault we are the inconvenience...<br />
<br />
This is what Mom's do, right? We worry. We love so big our hearts explode and our brains are never off. How can we BE everything our children need while still being our selves and honoring our marriages as the priority?<br />
<br />
To make a long story short, I had NO idea where to turn, I had my son assessed at Lindamood-Bell Learning Processes. As a mom, I needed to know how behind was my son? Was the teacher not teaching or was my child drowning (in her one week time with him). <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdV89qhGlEcTAP4fdgHF2tQVY2Pr3-9hYxPJL2Ysvb7tBFhxSlZTr6RLivmJI2uiXYD_vq2x9j-QZhQfnjPCEwKYq26GOwghQJtskXomvtE7ywSn47kTvI3gBCWtZIAUxxe5LGUkAxbg4/s1600/Venn-300x250.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdV89qhGlEcTAP4fdgHF2tQVY2Pr3-9hYxPJL2Ysvb7tBFhxSlZTr6RLivmJI2uiXYD_vq2x9j-QZhQfnjPCEwKYq26GOwghQJtskXomvtE7ywSn47kTvI3gBCWtZIAUxxe5LGUkAxbg4/s400/Venn-300x250.png" /></a>What I got was peace of mind. My son wasn't behind at all! He was ahead of his current grade level in his ability to comprehend and every piece that is involved with that. I cried. And then I got angry. I was furious I had spent weeks worried and wondering if I had missed something these last few years of his schooling. I was livid his teacher hadn't given me resources, hadn't offered to teach him what her classrooms processes are, I was angry at her.<br />
<br />
When the kids were in bed & my husband was asleep, I sobbed until 2am. I mourned the work of our cross state move, the frustration with the school system, the exhaustion I felt emotionally. I praised God that I had answers, I had gotten help from friends, that I now knew what to do. I unloaded all of my feelings and questions and doubts and thanks that had been stuffed so tightly in but I now had permission to move past.<br />
<br />
This is what Mom's do, right? We worry. We love so big our hearts explode and our brains are never off. This is what we do. We lay our hearts down at each morning drop off, pick them back up at each afternoon pick up, question our sanity, practice-practice-practice patience, strive to balance scholastic expectation with normal childhood needs along with sharing our faith, answering their questions, and providing them with a healthy family. This is what we do. And the job never ends, but if we're lucky, we know we aren't alone. I know I'm not alone. I've got a merciful God who reminds me to show that teacher mercy, to forgive, a God who asks me to lay my burdens at His feet even when I think they're mine to cling to, and a God who lets me weep & in the weeping shows me He loves ME just like I love my boys.<br />
<br />
This is what Mom's do. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-60463897703215854862016-05-12T09:08:00.003-07:002016-05-12T09:14:37.597-07:00my sister's gift of grace to me on her wedding day<div style="text-align: justify;">
I am the oldest of three children and while I have siblings, I was raised like an only child. For many reasons, I grew up alone. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div>
People always told me that <i>some day</i> my siblings would be friends. I never once had reason to believe them. It always felt like it was me and then them. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I got married when I was 23. I was a baby. There were wedding choices I made because at 23 I didn't see any other way. I eloped & to this day, I wouldn't change it. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-iF6NMwTU18H89orfNfv_kt4eeG1qSYTM_5taRR0qV8iqO2UffsjQRTLBkwErOgbgSAouSMTMfJl3Y_Ex2R2D7Xi9Uy4EWcYfICt_Q32VyTO5KE7ubBNjO2QPpy0Tlv3-ZqSfeU8LBYU/s1600/IMG_7611.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-iF6NMwTU18H89orfNfv_kt4eeG1qSYTM_5taRR0qV8iqO2UffsjQRTLBkwErOgbgSAouSMTMfJl3Y_Ex2R2D7Xi9Uy4EWcYfICt_Q32VyTO5KE7ubBNjO2QPpy0Tlv3-ZqSfeU8LBYU/s400/IMG_7611.JPG" width="285" /></a></div>
<div>
My baby sister got married this past weekend and for some reason, she chose <i>me</i> as her maid of honor.<br />
<br />
There are things her wedding taught me that I had no idea I would learn, grace I received that I had no idea to anticipate. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
To quote my MoH speech, my sister & I are as different as night & day. </div>
<div>
She is Nordstrom while I am Marshall's.</div>
<div>
She is fresh fruit while I am a snickers bar. </div>
<div>
She is a bull dog and I am cat. </div>
<div>
But, regardless of who we are, we are sisters. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
No one as been where I have been more than she has. </div>
<div>
No one gets our broken, healing story like she does. </div>
<div>
No one has survived the wreckage with me like she has. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When I was first married, people loved to indirectly (& directly) give credit to my husband for saving me. He was the good people saw in me. Those who had watched my life from a close distance weren't able to see how far <b>I</b> had had to come to choose him. The courage and strength it took me is also my sister's. She chose someone who loves her. Ultimately, that comes down to her; she saw her own worth first. You can't choose what's best for you, what's healthiest, without knowing you yourself are worth it & deserving. For that I am <u>so proud</u> of <i><b>her</b></i>. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My sister had every freedom, every reason, not to choose me to be her maid of honor; nothing except blood obligated her, yet she picked me. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Post wedding I can't help but wonder, was she afraid I wouldn't come through on my duties? Did she have any doubts with her choice? If she had freedom, would she have picked me all over again?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgt9PH52NeCYr9jxxXnor4u8uzX935RDB_a0pzBmR6l3K8b1gfwmFXLViM3juwnrY8m2Y7InuxjX4_VffMovzMlH6PEFo8DNB5i3MPx8enxRFQErxVU3esagXH6-hl6GQnsllLptzBY1w/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-05-12+at+9.03.44+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgt9PH52NeCYr9jxxXnor4u8uzX935RDB_a0pzBmR6l3K8b1gfwmFXLViM3juwnrY8m2Y7InuxjX4_VffMovzMlH6PEFo8DNB5i3MPx8enxRFQErxVU3esagXH6-hl6GQnsllLptzBY1w/s400/Screen+Shot+2016-05-12+at+9.03.44+AM.png" width="282" /></a>Here's what I learned from watching her navigate HER beautiful wedding day, she picked me on purpose & it was <i>her</i> choice. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Like I said, my sister is a bulldog in the most loyal and strong of ways. You can't tell her to do something, she does it because she wants to. Why it didn't dawn on me that picking me wasn't excluded from that is beyond me. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My sister showed strength and determination over her wedding day that I ran from. I have a persistent inability to honor my dreams & worry about others, cater to others, self sacrifice. That all meant that MY wedding day meant I had to run. My sister? She honored her dreams, her husband's wishes, included respect of all of her parents & stayed the course. She stayed. She dealt with whining, fits, expectations, immaturity, generosity, ALL of it. It wasn't easy, and she stayed the course. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So there came her wedding day after months of planning & navigating problems. My sister stood in the face of anxiety when expectations didn't meet reality and while she asked for space from everyone else, she invited me in. I was the one with her in the moments leading up to her vows, standing to gather her bouquet, and scooping up her dress for bathroom runs & helping her change for her honeymoon getaway. What right did I have to experience that with my sister? Honestly? None. What my baby sister did was show me grace. She trusted me to love her, serve her, and know how to be the calm she needed. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFcRgZxJY4pqyR8seGtRuWjokKm-KWNyJ7KIbNQ8gS9LHejNZ-6XeWFM2ZsS7wZTLOTKhN-cIusr7ZTvpguECphwM1sffnsF5Sf2z9xI6MpLC8Hnr-XLDL4xyKPxL7UHZczW-siyWhlKg/s1600/IMG_7309.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFcRgZxJY4pqyR8seGtRuWjokKm-KWNyJ7KIbNQ8gS9LHejNZ-6XeWFM2ZsS7wZTLOTKhN-cIusr7ZTvpguECphwM1sffnsF5Sf2z9xI6MpLC8Hnr-XLDL4xyKPxL7UHZczW-siyWhlKg/s320/IMG_7309.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I've been her sister for 30 years. I can shamefully assure you May 7th was the <i>first</i> day I had ever served her selflessly & whole heartedly. May 7th was the first time I loved on her the way I love on those nearest & dearest to me in their times of need. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So, Sister, thank you for showing me grace. Thank you for choosing me, trusting me, inviting me in to your moment to let me love you the way I've always wanted to, to serve you in the way you deserve a sister to serve you, to intimately witness your courage & strength, and above all, to truly be your sister. I am so deeply proud of you. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Oh, & just so you know, "I could never love anyone as I love my sister." -Jo March. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-62119889310061469582016-04-19T11:20:00.001-07:002016-04-19T11:20:26.381-07:00BE STILL <div style="text-align: justify;">
There have been only a couple of times I have had words stir on my heart without rest or understanding & recently was one of them. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div>
While I have known who Jesus is for my whole life, I didn't realize He was "mine" until I was twenty-two. For years I had lived on the borrowed understanding of His grace, love & mercy from my mom not quite understanding I could have something of my own with Him; not even knowing I was missing it until it became so real & personal that it changed my entire life. At fourteen He made it clear He was protecting me, covering me, & walking ahead of me but I was too injured & broken to know how to take Him in; He waited. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>BE STILL</b>; These words started circulating my existence in the every day a few months ago. I would feel them stir in me when I was frazzled, I'd scroll social media and the verse would appear multiple times a day, several times a week; BE STILL was permeating my vision. </div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"</b><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><b>Be still, and know that I am God."</b> Psalm 46:10</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd0R1jdsQBlAywCBYFvjZGPQ5EIOkUtNLTj-SGelP6DxAgvB3f1F1xE-W9r51HcDqP92tUi3r-F0OtvfmOgUYwPf0x9eKeHy_Yq36ykCSWMej2KLboY83RVUyw0i72di42sdl_YKd7iyI/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd0R1jdsQBlAywCBYFvjZGPQ5EIOkUtNLTj-SGelP6DxAgvB3f1F1xE-W9r51HcDqP92tUi3r-F0OtvfmOgUYwPf0x9eKeHy_Yq36ykCSWMej2KLboY83RVUyw0i72di42sdl_YKd7iyI/s320/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="228" /></a></div>
</span></span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There was an aspect of this message that I understood because of my relationship with Jesus, I was being asked to</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">TRUST in Jesus</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">WAIT on Him</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Be PATIENT </li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
but I didn't know <u><b>what</b></u> I was being asked to be still for or <b><u>why</u></b>? </div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I thought I had it nailed, "<i>Ok, God. I can do this with You. I know you're merciful & good. I know You make plans to prosper me. I know that what is meant for evil, You work for Your good. I know You have NEVER failed me, You have ALWAYS loved me & provided for me. I got this.</i>"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It became clear that the BE STILL was that our family's life was about to change.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Jesus was providing an opportunity for our family that we hadn't faced before. In 10 years we have experienced much job loss but <u>never</u> the opportunity to advance & choose to move into a new position because we were pursued, wanted, or needed. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's here my relationship, my SELF, my FAITH was challenged. </div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I poured myself into bible journaling, podcasts, & the aggressive pursuit of His word in order to draw me closer to understanding what He wanted me to. I had all the tools in my faith-arsenal to BE STILL, trust & wait. I had the gumption to exercise ASKING Jesus for BIG, BOLD, UNBELIEVABLE things and TRUSTING He WOULD make them happen. My failure, as it turns out, wasn't in the the ask, however, it was in that I unknowingly said "<i><u>in MY timing, EXACTLY as I'm asking."</u></i></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I found myself crushed. More than that actually, I removed myself from that table with Jesus & I decided to lay face down on the couch giving Him the cold shoulder. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Why?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
He asked me to wait LONGER than I had been prepared to. He had a plan that was BETTER than what I was asking for, yet, because I was so locked into MY specifics, I felt like the opportunity wasn't blessed or ordained. What I wanted was for it to be EASY, for the story to be a TESTIMONY & it seemed like it was just a test; a chance for me to eat a slice of humble faith pie. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It has been an incredibly overwhelming "moment" I've been having with God. Until this past Sunday, sitting at church, I couldn't let myself off the hook for my failure. While I KNEW God forgave me, I couldn't forgive myself. The enemy had me caught in my own net with lies on repeat: <i>I failed my Father, & I embarrassed myself before Jesus</i>.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But here's what TRUTH says:</div>
<br />
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><i>"You are God of forgiveness, always ready to pardon, gracious and merciful, slow to become angry, and full of love & mercy.</i>" Nehemiah 9:17</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><i>"You do not stay angry forever but <u>delight</u> to show mercy."</i> Micah 7:18</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><i>"God is merciful & quick to forgive" </i>Isaiah 55:7</li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I didn't FEEL forgiven & my guilt removed me from closeness with my Father. I cannot tell you how achingly lonely the prison has been. I couldn't unlock the gate. I stared off into the distance of something I knew I had but I wasn't released -- I was holding on but Jesus had already given me the freedom. God forgives immediately & completely. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
BE STILL. I see the other side now. I didn't pass that test but it has become a new testimony. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div>
**for a wonderful message called MERCY FORGIVES,<a href="http://saddleback.com/visit/locations/onlinecampus?autoplay=true" target="_blank"> click here</a>**</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-447631965040227552016-02-16T09:33:00.000-08:002016-02-17T10:01:13.753-08:00 Jesus was at the park today...<div style="text-align: center;">
Today was a beautiful day.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We chased down memories like they were fleeting,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
owned moments like they were gifts,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
captured time like it was ours to keep forever.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYA4i3ugsPd56rSbPOhm574Jv3iFlXIqysOQA-n92whnMvGbN2IL1QH2Ndm3dWF2enUWI-oJp-t0Ddfc1Re6f86YMwpmeFGXpcbO9xLfFyOxENbGpITFmIPYpGc8Z-_wWINMPbjd9eyxM/s1600/IMG_8140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="mylipsinstitches.blogspot.com" border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYA4i3ugsPd56rSbPOhm574Jv3iFlXIqysOQA-n92whnMvGbN2IL1QH2Ndm3dWF2enUWI-oJp-t0Ddfc1Re6f86YMwpmeFGXpcbO9xLfFyOxENbGpITFmIPYpGc8Z-_wWINMPbjd9eyxM/s400/IMG_8140.JPG" title="mylipsinstitches.blogspot.com" width="400" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Today was a day that strangers cried & prayed.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
What IF this moment was your last?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It could be.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
-----</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Today was a day I have no words for.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We walked up from the river after skipping rocks, collecting sticks, embracing the sounds of a lapping river and stumbled into a family's nightmare at it's beginning.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A woman collapsed at the park surrounded by her family.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My son was in shock not wanting to leave, not wanting to stay; </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I looked at him in the eyes, knelt before him & said, "lets pray."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I reminded him,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Sweetie, do you know what God PROMISES?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That if two or more are gathered in his name, He is here!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We are praying for that family right now & He is among us."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Our prayers came to a close and a small group of teens behind us joined hands,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"We should pray"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
a sweet girl's voice said.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The scene became chaotic.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Compressions began.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
An elderly man on a bench was leaning on his grandson & blowing into his hanky.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He could do nothing for the woman he loved.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
----</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I've replayed it all in my head for hours.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The way things unfolded in the great divide of heaven and earth.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I wouldn't normally take a photo like this - I still have reservations - but I've never seen anything like this either.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuISqMoMEGM90lzgHnnBVlQvmN7l1gJk-1oX834F9xKjfKCVgfbi89nNInree54qTWdtEHiNUozYQdNZvHwaGa0AUbIzcuriVwcNuaVbTOHqxOZbwOUF4RZKQZXdi4W8QHfFc7IuMJrBk/s1600/215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="mylipsinstitches.blogspot.com" border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuISqMoMEGM90lzgHnnBVlQvmN7l1gJk-1oX834F9xKjfKCVgfbi89nNInree54qTWdtEHiNUozYQdNZvHwaGa0AUbIzcuriVwcNuaVbTOHqxOZbwOUF4RZKQZXdi4W8QHfFc7IuMJrBk/s400/215.jpg" title="mylipsinstitches.blogspot.com" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A group of total strangers surrounded the man sobbing on the bench, encased him, and began to pray as one (on the right).</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It was like heaven & it's glory opened and glowed above the loss the world was experiencing but the gain heaven was welcoming in (on the left).</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jesus was at the park today.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Right where we stood.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
----</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div>
Today was a beautiful day.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We chased down memories <strike>like they were</strike><b> that are </b>fleeting,</div>
<div>
owned moments <strike>like they were</strike><b> that are </b>gifts,</div>
<div>
captured time <strike>like it was ours to keep forever</strike> <b>because it's temporary</b>.</div>
</div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-80217887786620543522015-09-21T15:32:00.004-07:002015-09-21T15:42:51.330-07:00Season of AwakeningI started September fresh. Yes, the kids were back in school, but I had made some intentional decisions to make room for what mattered most by removing some of the things that mattered least. He is working in that space I have given Him.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have realized this is a new season for me & it is a <b>Season of Awakening.</b> I'm <i>not</i> filling every nook and cranny of my time with to-do's but instead with <u>just-be</u>'s. I find myself standing at times staring in all directions, "<i>What should I do now?</i>" And with those questions, there are choices: <i>rest, read, be productive, play, invest in relationships, sow into others, meet with Me</i>'s; I have the freedom to choose and enjoy each one. I am not wrapped up in have-to's, idol obligation, self-striving, or insignificant distraction, but living in the the gift of now. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I wish I could recap this last 8 hours of this day in a way that bled truth so vulnerable; so vulnerable you'd share in my heavy eyes but know my full heart that comes only from His love. I fear it may be impossible but I will try. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihkEqAgHCGYJ8N1sLBAbbGzbFnnQC0bQtZobkU0X-iLcEPbY4ChpU8d4BNR64KZngByC-gUaM33MoEFrV_V8aXS1PyVTlwAFt_Z_2-vallRHkcFJp5cCLqRoo-JjOuVPlsM2ZPlPTOwNU/s1600/IMG_9155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihkEqAgHCGYJ8N1sLBAbbGzbFnnQC0bQtZobkU0X-iLcEPbY4ChpU8d4BNR64KZngByC-gUaM33MoEFrV_V8aXS1PyVTlwAFt_Z_2-vallRHkcFJp5cCLqRoo-JjOuVPlsM2ZPlPTOwNU/s320/IMG_9155.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It was 7:10am and I felt a gentle shake on my back. Face planted firmly in the warmth of our bed, I bemoaned morning coming so quickly. I threw my legs over the bed, rubbed my eyes, & swooped my sweater over my shoulders, "Get in gear, Allegra, we're behind for a Monday morning with minions who need breakfast before school," I thought groggily. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Cheerios. Coffee. Pack Lunches. Shoes on. Backpacks remembered. Out the door. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
7:49am, "<i>Bye, baby, I love you!</i>" I said as I cranked my head to the back seat. I say it because I mean it AND because I want to see my second graders face stare back silently saying, "<i>moooommmm!!!</i>"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I was looking forward to this day! I was thankful for this day. Just give me a cup of coffee and I would KNOW I meant that. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
9:00am, prepare for the dramatic drop off of my pre-schooler. He does <u>not</u> like letting me go. He cries and clings like those who know him wouldn't even believe. My baby.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"<i>Oh, I'm SO lucky to be his mama. I'm so thankful Jesus that I get to be the one who takes him to school and picks him up. Thank you</i>," I pray internally as his tears wet my neck. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
9:18am, I'm on the way to meet my Monday Mama for we are going to indulge in coffee and a mall hour. The sun is high, the leaves on the trees are starting to shift from granny smith to fuji & I turn the worship music on because there's <b>nothing</b> I want more than just to praise this morning:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<pre itemprop="description" style="border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, 'Liberation Sans', FreeSans, sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 20px; padding: 0px;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">I need you like the rain
Come to me and sing again
I long for your love so much
I've wanted your pure touch
You are beautiful, beautiful
You are beautiful, beautiful
So beautiful, beautiful</span></i></pre>
</div>
<div>
I find my right hand reaching up as my left hand holds the wheel: half in heaven, half at the wheel. I lose myself in that worship moment not caring who drives behind or ahead of me wondering if I'm crazy. This moment is mine to be with Jesus & all I want to do is sing each word like I am before Him; He has given me <i>this</i> day, <i>this</i> life, and I <b>am</b> going to thank him for it. I am awakened to His mercy & grace.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
11:03am I have found two pairs of pants that fit me in amazing ways & I'm shuffling the GAP sale section with my nearest telling her, "<i>Jesus is REALLY showing me things,</i>" not even paying attention to the fact others can hear me. (The conversation is genuine but my volume may have been fueled by caffeine.)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
11:30am ....<b>need</b>....deep, aching need creeps in. The smack of real life that steals your breath, makes you incompetent at knowing how to use your phone jolts me. I <b>need</b> HIM & I need him NOW.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeIS39IrbWoACQqVuUE3ryVNbV2YPgHAJk_ozAdrexXCcMKJzVo3PBC5K4rrUdMt4CjkACRBD8RrcKKtzDV1vqIHNa2RgcYaEs8hZNqnRrxs2hZG4m-YexEKqI_apcv4YqKuLeDQ8s3dY/s1600/IMG_0468.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeIS39IrbWoACQqVuUE3ryVNbV2YPgHAJk_ozAdrexXCcMKJzVo3PBC5K4rrUdMt4CjkACRBD8RrcKKtzDV1vqIHNa2RgcYaEs8hZNqnRrxs2hZG4m-YexEKqI_apcv4YqKuLeDQ8s3dY/s320/IMG_0468.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div>
I can lose myself in the worship song that starts to play...</div>
<div>
<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Call my name</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">And I will answer </span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">All you need</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">It's here inside my arms</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Just breathe</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">And you'll be safe and sound with me</span></i></div>
<div>
<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div>
I hear Ben Rector's song in my mind:</div>
<div>
<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">This isn't easy</span><br style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">This isn't clear</span><br style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">And you don't need Jesus</span><br style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">Til you're here</span><br style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">Then confusion and the doubts you had</span><br style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">Up and walk away</span></i><br />
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /></span></div>
<div>
I tell Jesus, "<i>I KNOW you! You had me dig my well today so when I was thirsty this afternoon I would KNOW. I would remember I NEED you, God, to love the gifts and mourn the hurt. Thank you for being my Father who loves me, holds me, lifts me up, walks ahead, supports behind, cheers me on, tells me when I'm wrong,</i>" and brings me to His chest. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This season....be with me always....</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
3:23pm I am tired but I know truth. I am waiting but I know goodness. I'm writing to Jesus: <i>I love you. NOTHING changes You. Thank You. </i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>The Season of Awakening</b>. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Housefires says it best for today: </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: ProximaRegular, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 28.8px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Oh, I've heard a thousand stories of</i></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: ProximaRegular, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 28.8px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>what they think you're like</i></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: ProximaRegular, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 28.8px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>but I've heard the tender whisper
of love in the dead of night
You tell me that you're pleased
and that I'm never alone
You're a Good, Good Father
It's who you are</i></span></span><br />
I'm waiting Jesus & you know what for. As I wait, I thank you for friends who show up, love that reigns true, & the truth that it is only You who can fix the unfixable. </div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-50523416989596691822015-09-18T12:43:00.001-07:002015-09-18T15:49:00.654-07:00Dear Starbucks....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Dear Starbucks, </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This is a story most mom's can tell, but <i>do</i> they?!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I'm writing on behalf of the decaffeinated, the play-date-dream-broken, & the bereaved.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I'm writing for all the moms who have planned the out-of-the-box play date, </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
the women who imagined the perfect scenario playing out beside their fellow veteran(s),</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
& the moms who are constantly reminded of what perfect parents we were....before children.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Like most golden play dates, it begins with YOU, Starbucks.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
You're the goal...the reward...nay, you give us purpose, reason & fulfillment just with ONE little cup & one emerald green straw.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Starbucks, this story is for you.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
So the story starts like this...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiexS1vsLjD37RmC1T2chcaP8dpMW8CxeYClJYNhsGWL7lrn8hq5puR2DyLLJW8GHCF078xs39vP0DZ-zR_mp0pqcIfgS0PgM_FZSH_v4ShtsAzw7SL4ftUQPzElphre9RAS0grPwtlxZU/s1600/playdate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiexS1vsLjD37RmC1T2chcaP8dpMW8CxeYClJYNhsGWL7lrn8hq5puR2DyLLJW8GHCF078xs39vP0DZ-zR_mp0pqcIfgS0PgM_FZSH_v4ShtsAzw7SL4ftUQPzElphre9RAS0grPwtlxZU/s400/playdate.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
It was a cool, crisp morning in Lake Oswego.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Leila and I were looking forward to sitting river side on the Willamette (damnit!)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The dream included a picnic blanket, beach towels, & shovels</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
(or kitchen spoons since we're the ultra creative type).</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
It had been weeks since we had seen each other & the kids kept saying (read: begging relentlessly) to play.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Why NOT try a new park, a new place to roam, an adventure?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
We showed up to a serene setting.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYKGiaf6hFLxW9z3n-i7NzJIhCnSWEay6CdTXLFJjbjhC6102Eu2CrHQMrsOAFU7OXpXl-QRuxVZ1GzdKt_H2DmNscmb1br2Z_XdvvllBCJsYHh2Y4nJ4ABtjRL28p5Zs8sPRi4Nc1l9Y/s1600/serene+setting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYKGiaf6hFLxW9z3n-i7NzJIhCnSWEay6CdTXLFJjbjhC6102Eu2CrHQMrsOAFU7OXpXl-QRuxVZ1GzdKt_H2DmNscmb1br2Z_XdvvllBCJsYHh2Y4nJ4ABtjRL28p5Zs8sPRi4Nc1l9Y/s400/serene+setting.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
We set up camp & threw the spoons to the kids and released them to begin creating clean, organized river dirt castles.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Oh, sweet divinity!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Leila & I would now....finally...warm our hands & bellies with liquid gold: lattes!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Grande, Skinny Vanilla, Lattes! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
(By the way, thank you, Starbucks, for making it such a great drink to order. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
"SKINNY Vanilla latte for Allegra!" the barista shouts over the fans & I'm all too confident & happy to claim it: "That's right! That's MY Skinny drink....and my cake pop...)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This is when things get good.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The kids aren't staying on the river bed...they're quickly approaching the river.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
No, wait, they're IN the river.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
($&!* . Oh, well. WE have Starbucks!)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSk6UBqzhSOUbMxwfd63wa4gQARLwHCQ4uDcwfegKBR9ADzfv5Zlp_kwJqo7J1uxwqYpc8-3pvZEOAHBr-dM1Hb-q64rE2hVyuEbLpVqj78ShDKgWpTxvL6TN-CByx1EnmeouVkFBIU7k/s1600/in+the+river.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSk6UBqzhSOUbMxwfd63wa4gQARLwHCQ4uDcwfegKBR9ADzfv5Zlp_kwJqo7J1uxwqYpc8-3pvZEOAHBr-dM1Hb-q64rE2hVyuEbLpVqj78ShDKgWpTxvL6TN-CByx1EnmeouVkFBIU7k/s400/in+the+river.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Then...the unthinkable!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
That cute little, old, pink haired lady with the knee brace & clearly too-much-for-her wet river soaked dog come screaming through OUR imperfectly perfect Mom Moment!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Grande SKINNY lattes & hot chocolate are E.V.E.R.Y.W.H.E.R.E</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Wet river mud has caked not only us but the blanket, the beach towels, and our bodies.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Our jaws drop.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The dog is not just taking a single pass through our space but multiple.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Multiple jumpy, dirty, barky, gross passes through OUR mom moment.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
It seems we now have <i>nothing</i> to live for.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Our children are disgusting (more so than before)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjjQN9EyCcEhw5IeSWrULbq-aYIi9buDjl_sCh8m-0vpCbkuwxoOixH0jqYe9uUCCLRNfH8rnzh505o4FQqXwNgbCUG8XxAhHq-xoNnoiaim-tJw1umGTvP8PBC7yvib2XgalSEWtOKN8/s1600/IMG_9935.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjjQN9EyCcEhw5IeSWrULbq-aYIi9buDjl_sCh8m-0vpCbkuwxoOixH0jqYe9uUCCLRNfH8rnzh505o4FQqXwNgbCUG8XxAhHq-xoNnoiaim-tJw1umGTvP8PBC7yvib2XgalSEWtOKN8/s400/IMG_9935.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Our coffee is gone!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
>>>OUR SKINNY VANILLA LATTES ARE GONE!<<<<</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
That's not just our fuel but it was our hard saved pennies!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
That ONE thing that gets to be ours...that one SWEET, expensive, indulgent treat...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
it's GONE along with our money.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
We are now left with</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
no apology</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
confirmed dislike of domesticated pets</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
no coffee</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
dirty kids</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
& we are convinced we are on "Boiling Point"</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Oh, Starbucks...you are the reason we manage & the devastation when the cup goes forcibly dry.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
You save us from our worst selves...until someone else <i>strips</i> us of our moment.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
We may never recover.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
(Well, until we save up for the next cup.)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
With Love,</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Allegra & Leila</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-56376958938308787012015-06-02T20:51:00.000-07:002015-06-02T21:11:37.866-07:00Am I There Yet?<div style="text-align: justify;">
The freeway went on for miles. It's amazing how enjoyable a road trip can be without a million stops for the bathroom & sans, "<i>Are we there yet?</i>" on repeat. Two empty car seats in the back & as many Starbucks drive thru's as we could stomach on a 6 hour drive. Just the two of us. </div>
<br />
<div>
"So, what exactly are we going to do?" He asked me from the driver seat. The sun beat down on my bare feat bugging him as they rested on the dash. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Well I have the schedule, but I don't really <i>know</i> what to expect," I replied. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The husband & I were headed to Northern California to meet up with my grandparents & directors of a board called New Day for Children.<br />
<br />
I come from a personal background that consists of a passion for the voiceless. It lead me to major in Women's Studies and pursue volunteer work with Women's Shelters and the like. I saw what New Day was about & accepted my Grandparent's offer to be on site with them. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Away from the office and the daily grind, my husband had the head & heart space to hear what we were doing. I read to him as the miles ticked by:</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #3f3f3f; font-family: Amaranth; line-height: 24px;"><i>New Day for Children has taken a multi-faceted approach to meet the unique needs of the girls rescued, combining shelter, education and therapy to help heal mind, body and spirit. </i></span><span style="color: #3f3f3f; font-family: Amaranth; line-height: 24px;"><i>We provide education, restorative care and therapeutic services to girls’ ages 10-18 who have been victimized by Commercial Sexual Exploitation (CSE). Our goal is to care for the girls and help them recapture their childhoods, while building their self- esteem and confidence</i>.</span></blockquote>
We heard the words, we gasped at the stories, we broke the silence of our own thoughts with made up games: "<i>What would you do if you won this week's mega million?</i>" (This is a game I love to play with my best friend, too).<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We arrived in the brown, dry face of Northern California early that evening to stretch our legs & eat dinner with my Grandparents before a day ahead coming face to face with the strongest girls I have ever. <b><u><i>ever</i></u></b>. met.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There's something that happens for me in the wake of knowing I am about to have my heart changed forever; I go numb. It's as if the anticipation of the unforeseen trumps all of my ability to imagine. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I lay awake that night with the TV tuning out my thoughts just enough to hear only my mind's thundering whispers. Since March of this year, God has been working in me and with me on some pending questions: <i>what on earth was my over priced education all about? Why do I have a passion for the problem of the voiceless if it's one that scares my husband? How am I supposed to use that soft spot in my heart for His kingdom as a mom and a wife? </i>And then there were the questions I wasn't....I am not...ready to ask still because I know how my Father works. He is good and He is merciful. He waits for me to make the ask & when I overcome my own fear, He answers. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
---------</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Morning broke & my stomach growled. I battled the blackout curtains & my sweet husband,<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Just five more minutes," I begged.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I needed five more minutes to pretend that I had any speck of understanding of these girls pasts. I needed five minutes to buckle before Jesus, </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"<i>Father, you KNOW me. You KNOW what I'm doing right now. I'm shutting it off to survive what will break my heart. Help me see these girls not for their broken past but for their daunting ability to survive the unsurvivable!</i>"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
---------</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The ride into the undisclosed location was informative. We asked questions of the Founding Directors about the girls, their current home, & the program. Our days plan included lunch with the girls in the mess hall, a tour of the grounds, & dinner in town with the girls {*Which is a really, really big treat for them}. Somewhere in there I would have the chance to teach them how to do Jamberry Nails. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I imagined our visit must make the girls feel like fish. There they are swimming in a fish bowl with spectators eyeing them building the glass partition of normal life deeper between them & the outside world. I wanted....I <i>needed</i>....to bring that wall down. I could not bring myself to stare as an outsider. I wanted them to know they could just <i>be</i>.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Those girls changed my heart. I choked down the knot in my throat the whole day. There was the unspoken between us that Nails & being a girl overrode; they weren't broken to me, they were like me. They laughed with each other, asked me which nail wraps would be best, were right at my side asking me to help them, asking about my life, asking one to do their hair and another to fix their eyebrows, </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Do these shoes look good with these jeans?" one asked</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Oh, sorry!" one apologized as her braids hit me in the face as she turned.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Don't be sorry! I'm jealous your hair is that long," I laughed back. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I was as familiar as the chairs they sat on that day. Needed yet unnoticed. Thank you, Jesus. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
---------</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/newdayforchildren?fref=ts" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVAAE5cCoGS7NVPApVkyOH1aeWzrwBHOrOFt3_mz9xvNMnXVsfqEoYdlvOo1ia-iQ3ZpIqUaFYQfsVL9srn7TX8ZF1OBNJVMniPHB1HIw9Pkkgiib2q_FpeBkndCJwSB1oEngGBfgkOmQ/s320/Screen+Shot+2015-06-02+at+8.55.09+PM.png" width="296" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I haven't known how to process everything I still feel. The knot is still sitting in my throat taunting me, "LET IT OUT". But I'm not there yet. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
One of the most fascinating things that one of the Director's shared with me was this, </div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>We encourage the girls to find one person in the program they trust to tell their story too. Other than that, they keep their past as a part of their therapy and their life in the program focused on feeling again, even if it's anger, and building the courage to hope and dream for their future</i>. </blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As I sat with a dear friend today over coffee processing how God works, what He calls us each into, & what we are supposed to do with that, I thought again about that statement and wondered:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
WHO WOULD I BE IF I stopped worrying about people needing to know where my feet have walked? </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
WHO WOULD I BE IF I just allowed myself to rest in what I say Jesus has done: renewed & reawakened me.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
WHO WOULD I BE IF I just focused on living out my present & my future. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>WHO WOULD I TELL PEOPLE I AM if I couldn't tell them who I was?</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
---------</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
For more information on <a href="http://www.newdayforchildren.com/" target="_blank">New Day for Children </a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
or to donate to their efforts</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
click</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><a href="http://www.newdayforchildren.com/donate-now.html" target="_blank">HERE</a></b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
</div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-15957095763740188442015-05-23T21:43:00.002-07:002015-05-23T21:48:22.362-07:00"Never talk badly about your spouse to anyone. Ever."Why aren't anniversaries celebrated with the grandeur a birthday is?<br />
<div>
I mean, I didn't DO anything on my birth day that I have earned any recognition for, yet I'm lavished with love and reminders that I matter.</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tyNYoDFfgJL2MDDKE21cJ5isrP7ix_zKHvg18mTrt7QHPppNtFxOdC-j_8YRJGOabGFC5vYdwdrnJ-esbibsEHymHK_yUCvQbqAuT07tIQgPwgqtZOoR6ktrVPAHQhOxk8lZHLUuEyU/s1600/453_parreira.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tyNYoDFfgJL2MDDKE21cJ5isrP7ix_zKHvg18mTrt7QHPppNtFxOdC-j_8YRJGOabGFC5vYdwdrnJ-esbibsEHymHK_yUCvQbqAuT07tIQgPwgqtZOoR6ktrVPAHQhOxk8lZHLUuEyU/s320/453_parreira.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
On the day that I married my husband, what he was saying...what <b>I</b> was saying...was that we belonged to each other. We made a commitment, a covenant, that day that no other relationship has in our lives: <b><i>He</i></b> is who I make my decisions <u>with</u>. <b><i>He</i></b> is who I will raise my children <u>with</u>. <b><i>He</i></b> is who will be there when no one else is. <b><i>He</i></b> is who I will work everything out <u>with</u> - for better or worse, til death do us part. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Everyone wanted to be there for the wedding. Oh, the wedding. The quintessential perfect day that every little girl dreams of: the white dress, the flowers, the attention. We actually didn't want all of that. What we wanted was our feet on the sand and a moment undistracted with "show" to rest in what we were about to say forever to. We got some of that, our wedding story is a beautifully tangled one, but the point is, vows are a big freaking deal. An anniversary? An anniversary is a big freaking deal! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Each year a couple stands facing each other, waking up beside each other, spending evenings talking together, dreaming about a future together, watching babies change together, tackling heart aches together, learning how to disagree together, wading the waters of the "worse" seasons promised in the vows together--THAT is what deserves the recognition, the love, and the show. The marriage still standing should get the free slice of cake after the entree, don't you think?</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhHWykPXVSByVVBvxLuH9KM87RjqJdGOuG6RCS3m1EZ-F60iMNybK1oPDARr0BMSa5CPxIZDqwWdjXN1xzTvrSACmEGQiztww_WlkgGUQ1gpojc5ueGsBNyXouPOSPWL-8n5VR52DGoEw/s1600/life+was+great+in+2008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhHWykPXVSByVVBvxLuH9KM87RjqJdGOuG6RCS3m1EZ-F60iMNybK1oPDARr0BMSa5CPxIZDqwWdjXN1xzTvrSACmEGQiztww_WlkgGUQ1gpojc5ueGsBNyXouPOSPWL-8n5VR52DGoEw/s320/life+was+great+in+2008.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I live in an age and time of the loose lipped. There are a million forums to complain and defame what and who we love, a thousand people I can get on board to agree to keep me down instead of challenge me upward. There are few safe places to converse or to have the iron sharpens iron moments yet avenues, alleys and highways of people just waiting to jump on board for the fight & denigration. I don't want that world. I want the one that says, </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"<b>Never talk badly about your spouse to anyone. Ever</b>," and the one that reminds me "<b>Others don't forgive and forget the things you say about your spouse -- they don't love them like you do</b>." I want those voices that speak truth: "<b>Sometimes the only way people know about your spouse is through you. Build them up. Always.</b>" ~unknown</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The sad reality is, is that our culture doesn't celebrate anniversaries but instead watches the hourglass and waits for the time to run out. THAT is not what my vows were for, however, and it's NOT what they are to me now.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDn_eXL_QvkY6LCmmkLuxLqnQpEpMZrFF373M2kFq-f1OZrcU_8o79LpwQ0JM2FFZGMzdM2yD4IQA-Ewl-1i78vo7aH_u4QtbqjzlFvJleF_fskY-wJoNX8OVO3E_-LTIef-0xBYM7Wq8/s1600/us.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDn_eXL_QvkY6LCmmkLuxLqnQpEpMZrFF373M2kFq-f1OZrcU_8o79LpwQ0JM2FFZGMzdM2yD4IQA-Ewl-1i78vo7aH_u4QtbqjzlFvJleF_fskY-wJoNX8OVO3E_-LTIef-0xBYM7Wq8/s320/us.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I am perfectly imperfect, flawed in every way. I make mistakes day in and day out, I succeed and I fail, I submit & I fight. I have a very, very select few women in my life that are the safe place to say, "t<i>his is the struggle right now</i>," & they help me. They hear my words and instead of lighting the fire, they point me back to God & to what my part in the current problem is. That is what people need in their lives: fire fighters, not starters. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Let the words you speak of your spouse by thought-full. Let them be praise & adoration for what you say of them is what they will know themselves as & how others will see them. Marriage is not a one day party you were invited to be the star of, it was a life long commitment you invited witnesses to. What story are you telling to all who stand behind you and watch?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-84449370008117745312015-03-31T11:59:00.001-07:002015-03-31T12:06:01.549-07:00hole up, shut out, board up, & lock down<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEZ2UR2bS8U2o3wDyydCqFhh1N-t6Wx3EHgZllIdYLC8yeYKuz0ku1atZsdjFn8w7c6CN516QbpFw1MkgijR5RL8z2ZtVBXQWqKSxXiI_4OvUvwSB64hRqy_9GcImLjPpG4hSEmZnYODI/s1600/IMG_4277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEZ2UR2bS8U2o3wDyydCqFhh1N-t6Wx3EHgZllIdYLC8yeYKuz0ku1atZsdjFn8w7c6CN516QbpFw1MkgijR5RL8z2ZtVBXQWqKSxXiI_4OvUvwSB64hRqy_9GcImLjPpG4hSEmZnYODI/s1600/IMG_4277.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a>I have been on a few short term mission trips. There is something about being away, immersed in Jesus, scared, needing him, overcome with self awareness that makes it hard to come home. Those few weeks away soaking up the Son with such intensity redefine what's important. Seeing the face of those less fortunate smile bigger than I do in my abundance reshapes "want" and "need". The return is unsettling. The world you left hasn't changed, but YOU have. You want to fit back in but you can't. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div>
I haven't been on mission in years now. Church talks about mission being right where you are, in your neighborhood and with your community. As an introvert what I hear is I'm NOT missional. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I struggle with the word <i>evangelism</i>. It's churchy and sounds disingenuous to me. I picture a person on a street corner with a bullhorn or a van with a sticker that says JESUS SAVES. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I don't DO Jesus like that. I don't receive him like that & I don't share him like that. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
On Sunday I was encouraged for the first time in awhile that as a mom, I actually AM missional. I seek to raise and grow boys who pray with a genuine spirit of thanks to Jesus, boys who ask me real questions about heaven & wonder about their peers going to church, boys who get to know God by my own love for them.<br />
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
Despite that encouragement, I'm finding being a Christian lately to be hard. Not the act of loving & or the reality of knowing Jesus, but what it means in the world. I'm finding it hurtful to love & yet impossible not to. I'm digging at the reality that I hurt people, too. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am finding my humanity challenging, my mistakes annoying, my sins frustrating. I WANT to be this person that loves without flaw and that is impossible. I want to be loved without injury & that will never happen on this earth. I am finding all of those complex emotions under the umbrella of saying I'm a Christian are incredibly hard for me right now. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The more I sin, the more I'm ashamed. The more I love, the more likely I am to get hurt. The more I hurt, the harder it is to love. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The God I know doesn't want me to feel shame, wants me to love, says this world is imperfect & will hurt. He Himself lived in this world and felt that hurt. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm finding I want to go on retreat. I want to go on mission. I want that disconnection in order to connect that comes from saying TIME OUT. The problem is, I want to <b>live</b> in that place right now. I want to hole up, shut out, board up, and lock down so I can exist as this person who doesn't hurt others, doesn't <i>get</i> hurt, & just lives with Jesus unashamed. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I know I can't do that, but I want to. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I want to.....</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-35232109385735173192015-02-01T09:53:00.003-08:002015-02-01T09:53:51.031-08:00Do It Afraid<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17.5636348724365px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
I follow <a class="profileLink" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=25254987383&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3A1572928829588260%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/joycemeyerministries" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Joyce Meyer Ministries</a> & often find myself clinging to words she shares. Last night she shared this:</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17.5636348724365px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<i>"The feeling of fear is not that abnormal. We all feel that, but just because you feel fear, doesn't mean you have to let it stop you. You can feel fear and still '<b>do it afraid.</b>'"</i><br />
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17.5636348724365px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAazf9OC70acQzYOMm0tnRJ3iziehbEkE1wzP-Ii8a67kZC8LEGhfqBJfS3j8hQFXB2Prjt_qc5iKZJBxJUEvLUIB2eG4DM9WwVQ_CdPLPwUWYrEdoCLlgCvAMyJOjvkgnK4Cxz0TyiPI/s1600/ccad030d6f874baa103962c8a339f9fa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAazf9OC70acQzYOMm0tnRJ3iziehbEkE1wzP-Ii8a67kZC8LEGhfqBJfS3j8hQFXB2Prjt_qc5iKZJBxJUEvLUIB2eG4DM9WwVQ_CdPLPwUWYrEdoCLlgCvAMyJOjvkgnK4Cxz0TyiPI/s1600/ccad030d6f874baa103962c8a339f9fa.jpg" height="200" width="188" /></a></div>
<span style="line-height: 17.5636348724365px;">It completely resonates with my heart. I keep finding the more things I say "</span><i style="line-height: 17.5636348724365px;">I'll NEVER do that</i><span style="line-height: 17.5636348724365px;">" to, the list of how wrong I am keeps growing.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17.5636348724365px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
I'll NEVER get Married. WRONG<br />
I'll NEVER have kids. WRONG<br />
I'll NEVER do direct sales. WRONG.<br />
<br />
All of those I'll NEVERS stemming from FEAR. Fear of failure, fear of hurt, FEAR.<br />
<br />
<br />
.......................................<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17.5636348724365px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
January was a weird month for me, and that word doesn't even FIT. I walk into February with this same off-putting feeling that I am not emotionally, physically, spiritually where I should be. I feel trapped inside my own head & heart trying to sort out a pieces of my soul that have all become dislodged. And there's no reason. There's no catastrophic moment that gives reason to this; which honestly makes me feel crazy.<br />
<br />
I woke up at 3am this morning haunted by dreams that felt so real, full of people I love & have loved, full of moments I fear, remember, and anticipate, FULL of burden. I had to get my bearings: <i>what is real, where am I, where do I live, what day is it?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I tried putting myself back to sleep mentally drawing bubbles my me-hood is segregated into.... And <b>ALL</b> of this is what I can't shake!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://mylipsinstitches.blogspot.com/"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOVPz8E_6yBjTzMBhq0-pzT7-SBB_9oOPXghvSRKC6Gb8_UIvGvXw-6NF-iXjEDDwRvIyypvx5Fsf-B8b0aYDTDxKTmWRW4RJ5kdxAreBow5Wu07KwGpsFewVEN0mfr9zEnGk7mpNiMy4/s1600/ME.jpg" height="472" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I am drowning in my own division, pouring the best of me into being employed because it FEELS the most validating, falling at the feet of Jesus throughout the day knowing it's not where I want to be & not sure how to touch bottom in the shallow end again. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I keep looking for answers for the mental chaos. I keep WANTING to withdraw, seclude, isolate and recharge but there's no time for that. So, how do I rebuild & recenter? </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I turn my worship on and while the toy cars crash and the kids fight I let the words sink in and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=77cwl530Ngg">the truth starts to warm me</a>. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So today, I am regurgitating this. I am going to keep stepping out, doing it afraid, working to realign and reword the lies to truths. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-3122241631764835862015-01-07T12:08:00.000-08:002015-01-07T12:08:44.348-08:00plant, grow, harvest, sow<div>
I started the year empty & foreign to myself, I wrote about that the other day, & since <a href="http://mylipsinstitches.blogspot.com/2015/01/restoration.html">that post</a> I've reawakened. I feel like myself again! My skin feels like MINE again! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Something quite literally clicked. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I walked downstairs and I saw my microwave and my refrigerator and my heart felt SO thankful so I just said, "Thank you, Jesus!" That little whisper of gratitude created this avalanche of internal unfolding and my gratitude snowballed into greater & greater thanks!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I took my son to school yesterday and decided to get with the current century and try my first podcast. I went back to our former church for a resource and rediscovered <a href="http://drivetimedevotions.com/mc/Media.aspx?site=1Q3cCteFGyY%3D&p=eO3MMX4cQhU%3D">Drive Time</a> daily devotions. I turned the first one on & in 4 minutes, I was refueled. The prayer at the end made me re-listen 6 times & eventually type it out. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The prayer <b>RESTORED</b> me. It put words to what I couldn't put my finger on. I was anxious. I am unknowing of where I need to plant my gifts. Unsure of how He wants to use my gifts to provide for our family & the purpose He has for my life. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Are you feeling just...stall-struck? </div>
<div>
<br />Maybe this prayer will speak to you, too?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://atouchoflove.etsy.com/"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3hskkJZMYtwUoLs5BmVK0CyVyR9aOsqyGBZE51Z5lALAbsBersKpF_xahmipiRR3J4uFqJrxvTyGezXcux2hm_jKoPMZdOQcBNkDwBMZiTdx4iALMdtMV646dqvfsywxdrXEsG-f4BDE/s1600/IMG_9420.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>God I trust this year into Your hands </b></span><div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>and whatever harvest you want to come out of this year </b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>of relationships, hope, and love of ministry of finances of family of growth </b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>all those things in my life</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>anything and everything</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>God I want Your harvest in my life. </b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>I want what You want for my life. </b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>So show me where to plant and then how to trust You for what is going to grow. </b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>Show me how to plow and how to trust You to send the rain. </b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>God show me what You want me to do and then I trust You for the harvest. </b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>You are the one who is going to send the harvest and I will bless You and be blessed by whatever harvest You send. </b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>At the beginning of this year I put my faith and trust in You in that way. </b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>And Lord I pray that,that would cause me to have less anxiety this year and in place of my anxiety there would be this sense of trust that God You know what you're doing. You're at work in my life. You're going to bring blessings through and in my life this year. </b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>I trust you with that. </b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>In Jesus name, </b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>Amen.</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>{</b></span>you can listen <a href="http://drivetimedevotions.com/mc/Media.aspx?site=1Q3cCteFGyY%3D&p=eO3MMX4cQhU%3D">HERE</a><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>} </b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2E8ekoV4kI4V9fuO4NSko_PpCqzc2GyqfVla_fzwftUouxQKMNBuSD0T9_kDVdi_dH97HxsSGeJt22eBrRCm5CU2pqbavFHihUdvdu47Vl_1VYoMvP0ieZm0Ad2pPaw01gtG2ufZKy3M/s1600/IMG_9416.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2E8ekoV4kI4V9fuO4NSko_PpCqzc2GyqfVla_fzwftUouxQKMNBuSD0T9_kDVdi_dH97HxsSGeJt22eBrRCm5CU2pqbavFHihUdvdu47Vl_1VYoMvP0ieZm0Ad2pPaw01gtG2ufZKy3M/s1600/IMG_9416.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
I started my day feeling restored but it ended with a challenge.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My husband sought to encourage me with words but they unintentionally shook my spirit. He reminded me I needed to be thinking about my future with work when our boys are in school. He mentioned my strength in marketing for others and how I should turn it toward my own business. I panicked and told him, "I can't talk about this right now" and I rolled over and put a pillow over my head. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I realized, my husband doesn't <i>realize</i> how deeply I am trying to push into what's blocking me from success. Without being able to put words to it, I couldn't even <i>express</i> how intentionally I am seeking the direction I need to take. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So, husband, I am sorry I panicked. I am pressing into the places to plant <u>knowing</u> that He has always blessed us even (& especially in) the seasons of burden. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Jesus, I surrender my anxiety right now and each time it bubbles to the surface remembering that I am Yours and You have plans to prosper & not to harm me. Thank you for your grace and strength as I will eternally need them.</div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-30265542464888994302015-01-05T17:09:00.000-08:002015-01-05T17:09:21.723-08:00restoration<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
It's 2015. The hype that comes with the conclusion of one year and the start of another didn't have it's usual zest for me this year. The Christmas season left me worn down & hyper sensitive to noise (not exactly ideal with two babes 6 & 3). While so many blessings encompassed the ending of 2014, I couldn't shake the physical & mental fatigue that had taken over me.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
For the past several years I have shied away from lengthy resolutions & instead focused on a word like renew, intentional, or this year's: <b>RESTORATION</b>. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I long deeply to <b>restore</b>.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Spiritually, I crave restoration in my connection with Jesus.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Physically, I want desperately to restore my body to a healthy state.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Emotionally, I will always need to restore my heart when I discover new areas that call me to grow. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Mentally, I need to restore my self image. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
So I came upon a binder I had misplaced and left untouched. It was filled with "powersheets" and the aim of "goal setting." <a href="http://laracaseyshop.com/products/making-things-happen-powersheets">Lara Casey</a> poured time, effort, and intention into a tool that I could only DREAM of creating one day. Six months of homework for the soul covering action plans, dreams, & self focus. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I opened it and stared. For the first time, filling out forms felt....daunting. Because, truthfully, I don't have a lot of the answers. As someone who spends an enormous amount of time in my own head, I felt alarmingly stunted. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I feel a lot of doubt lately. A lot of fear that I don't see NEW on the horizon, timidity that I may be being asked to stay in one place for awhile, frustration that I'm becoming accustomed to things in a physical place I need to stay new longer. But I'm trying, and this is the meek start to a lot of immensely dream-freezing thoughts I'm sifting through.... </div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK4XSvBCVKyZXBldl3LS4sLWvexQv5yqYqKWp-c5Snz7_iNQOiMcAUGUdc4d3y_PkY1Gy5KyU4N56zozX4RpS__WfL_R6FSeivMtMhKhI75E-ljskOCrBHH70E8qHL-UOCBfeYDRICxu4/s1600/My+2015+Goal+Setting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK4XSvBCVKyZXBldl3LS4sLWvexQv5yqYqKWp-c5Snz7_iNQOiMcAUGUdc4d3y_PkY1Gy5KyU4N56zozX4RpS__WfL_R6FSeivMtMhKhI75E-ljskOCrBHH70E8qHL-UOCBfeYDRICxu4/s1600/My+2015+Goal+Setting.jpg" height="640" width="464" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It's shockingly vulnerable to let myself write all of that down; to unlock that which I <i>know</i> is there but pretend is not. Seeing it, facing it, means I'm calling myself out. Letting the ink drip out of my fingertips means it exists. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I have no answers. I have only the knowledge that I am wading in the deep end wondering when my feet will touch bottom. I need to give myself permission to feel this, put my hands into it, and see what the wheel and I spin into art together. I <i>want</i> to stand and walk out the door, let the clay slop down and unform but I will <i>try</i> to be here, deep into "<b>this, </b>knowing I'm not a potter but a puddle of confusion. I will SEEK restoration so I can love who He already loves so dearly, then I will be set free!</div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-36810803379025466502014-12-16T10:19:00.002-08:002014-12-17T10:26:34.944-08:00Borrowed Faith<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">I stood in the corridor, still and mildly confident. The warehouse church had emptied aside from a few staff stragglers. Christmas season was a upon us. I was in a weird place all my own not quite knowing which way was up or which way was down, but my life <i>felt</i> down. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">I had graduated from college 6 months earlier and where I had imagined being was not where I was. With a degree taking me nowhere, a job donning an aloha shirt at a hotel front desk, living in my mother’s 2-sheets-as-walls dining room, I was sure twenty-two was a punishment. If it weren’t for Karen, I know I wouldn’t have been standing in church that night. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3EgNVKAvMqaFBdPA815eBoM7yP-ZKj0Yi3K6uW22U6A_E7t359nFhVPwdNTrc4zUmbIpjITaPWjKTAE-fR4_EINk_SQ7C5tGOH70nmfoIWLbQTOQ9MbeNRnC2TE4G6iElHrxfC33zyBY/s1600/Baby+Allegra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3EgNVKAvMqaFBdPA815eBoM7yP-ZKj0Yi3K6uW22U6A_E7t359nFhVPwdNTrc4zUmbIpjITaPWjKTAE-fR4_EINk_SQ7C5tGOH70nmfoIWLbQTOQ9MbeNRnC2TE4G6iElHrxfC33zyBY/s1600/Baby+Allegra.jpg" height="200" width="172" /></a></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">I am the oldest of three children but quintessentially an only child. My parents divorced when I was five. Truth be told, I have no idea how they were ever together, but at thirty-two, I am beginning to understand people really ARE <i>just</i> people! Early on I became my mother’s best friend & at five, it emotionally matured me to thirteen. I carried her burdens, I cared for her in my heart as my own child, I sot to protect her from everything, not because she asked, but because it just came to be. I looked after my brother and sister (only a year and one week apart, they were like twins and I was too old to fit in), I championed for them in wars that were not mine to fight. At fourteen I internally became mother to my siblings, best friend to my mother, distanced from my father, and broken teenage girl. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">My first memories of religion were formed in pre-school and Sunday school. I remember the Sunday mornings my mom towed us 3 kids under 4 in a Jeep Wagoneer to Sunday school alone, “Daddy isn’t coming. He is sleeping.” It didn’t matter to me then, but the message was built on a thousand other actions & statements: Daddy is absent. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Mom took us to church throughout our lives, but after the divorce and the move five hours north of Dad, Sunday school wasn’t a comfort, it was a tension, a cause of separation anxiety. So, I grew up in “big church,” listening to messages far above my head, bored to drawing on the church handouts, but eventually deciding I wanted to be baptized at 12. Perhaps because, that’s what good girls do. </span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">It was December 16, 1992, and my brother and I in our Arroyo Grande, California church, made our public statement of faith. I had invited a few friends and don’t remember much else except for plugging my nose, getting wet, & receiving a gold cross necklace, yet every December 16, I remember it. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuH3xbxCEtflzDCye3BM3zFOcdt1MCrrpEZzyhvvgPSZgXnYUUaKbg6KF3PWMnwD9Rj1ggUjeur761b9tW3owuOVXw6gHhIUx2stFd2-_MyfMzPToQai-1loUYFEukZRlBLNTPnO9plwQ/s1600/Miss+Allegra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuH3xbxCEtflzDCye3BM3zFOcdt1MCrrpEZzyhvvgPSZgXnYUUaKbg6KF3PWMnwD9Rj1ggUjeur761b9tW3owuOVXw6gHhIUx2stFd2-_MyfMzPToQai-1loUYFEukZRlBLNTPnO9plwQ/s1600/Miss+Allegra.jpg" height="178" width="200" /></a><span class="s1">Life carried on in what I called my traveling circus but the further on the years went, the more I tried to lose myself in everyone else’s God. </span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span>
<span class="s1">Catholic school presented the opportunities to perform and behave within the right groups yet break the right rules. I was Christian Ministry leader, a speaker at retreats, yet, so broken inside that boys were the hollow answer to feeling loved. No matter how many religious talks I could give, or chances I had to turn down drugs & alcohol, I always managed to find the ways to become the monocle of spiritual failure. At 19, standing outside of my college dorm building, freshly home from a month living in Italy, I made it clear to God, <i>“I’m done with YOU to punish them. I’m never good enough so this dance I’ve done is over.”</i></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">I was angry. So, <i>so</i> angry. I was in an abyss years deep of isolation from my family. My platform in life existed to champion for one victim & hold contempt for one villain. I felt I had every excuse to have been a statistic of what goes wrong when parents suck, but I kept fighting to be the antithesis (and failed).</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">I wandered through Catholic college bouncing between the vision of devoted bible student and entertaining the party life. I found the wrong boyfriend & learned how good it felt to fight. All of my pent up frustration came out in the form of this one awful relationship. Truth is I was as bad for him as he was for me. Somehow, though, I left college without that engagement ring we had talked about and moving back to the land of the trapped yet free. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">I was 22. I was home and lost. I stood in a church my life-long friend had invited me into. I was tied up in a bondage of depression and I wanted more. I was <i>ready</i> for more. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">I stood in the corridor, still and mildly confident. The warehouse church had emptied aside from a few staff stragglers. Christmas season was a upon us. I was in a weird place all my own not quite knowing which way was up or which way was down, but my life <i>felt</i> down. I was ready for up. I was ready for Jesus. I realized, with two sets of hands on me, answering yes to the question, “<i>Do you believe that Jesus is your savior?”</i> that all of these years of <i>thinking</i> I was a Christian, I was merely living on borrowed faith. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9-yM3M1feANXKF2EANFDVZM_mM9Cs9PoIaa0WFEKGrfloLf6R_Ch8si-xrqerny4CK6dE9KDi_d3l5hE3qCIBTY71ya0odxotkNgpPv48kLK43yhjh88nuZWUz4_fX6T-47hCcassTEA/s1600/Me+and+Allegra+-+67.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9-yM3M1feANXKF2EANFDVZM_mM9Cs9PoIaa0WFEKGrfloLf6R_Ch8si-xrqerny4CK6dE9KDi_d3l5hE3qCIBTY71ya0odxotkNgpPv48kLK43yhjh88nuZWUz4_fX6T-47hCcassTEA/s1600/Me+and+Allegra+-+67.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a><span class="s1">A brush of wind pulled from my back as I was prayed over to be made new. I felt Jesus then. Jesus became <i>mine</i>, not my mother's, not the church’s, but <i>mine</i>. On December 21, 2004, I wasn’t <b>just</b> a Christian by title, I knew I was God’s daughter. That night I understood Jesus is REAL. He is safe, forgiving, ever-present, the one who works all my brokenness for His good. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">This Christmas, I am taking a moment to hold closely what Karen invited me into ten years ago and celebrate His perfect love for my constant imperfection.</span></div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-15662498851725573582014-12-03T14:33:00.000-08:002014-12-03T14:33:59.857-08:00O Come O Come Emmanuel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFioNx6yBjAyLB_csQ8w3uqFmib2QWKdLPoSgz4Av8FlJV_VjqmTpdpsZ58jkTdWT3whWz-zM92M-qszJnx8ixMiXdkxJdR9IzDY_CNTvVeITKOJICX6jen8M8iaUIpAKHd22IsL-h7Vo/s1600/BLOG1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFioNx6yBjAyLB_csQ8w3uqFmib2QWKdLPoSgz4Av8FlJV_VjqmTpdpsZ58jkTdWT3whWz-zM92M-qszJnx8ixMiXdkxJdR9IzDY_CNTvVeITKOJICX6jen8M8iaUIpAKHd22IsL-h7Vo/s1600/BLOG1.jpg" height="640" width="425" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I'm wondering where Christmas is, because it doesn't quite feel like it's <i>here.</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
It <i>should</i> be here, as <b>in my heart</b>, nestling in and rooting itself within me, but I'm detached, feeling it slip by, aching for a way to hold on.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigmq1Dp9JhDFGVdFxiFxkRLd9Avqz4ak0eZGs3vXJB_T4aHLbh0xlyhp4tpVIou3EQUjrzsMe4oHJ3D2gd3gRJwtWO9VMFTd3pF8HOOq3LwxDRgQz2TSH_6jpun9Sm55STTfOwhOxJ-_A/s1600/BLOG2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigmq1Dp9JhDFGVdFxiFxkRLd9Avqz4ak0eZGs3vXJB_T4aHLbh0xlyhp4tpVIou3EQUjrzsMe4oHJ3D2gd3gRJwtWO9VMFTd3pF8HOOq3LwxDRgQz2TSH_6jpun9Sm55STTfOwhOxJ-_A/s1600/BLOG2.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The ornaments aren't hung, and I kind of like it like this.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Simple.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The outside brought in.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The rearranging of furniture to make it fit.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Now...<i>if only</i> I could rearrange my mind and my soul to make it fit inside my heart.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Simple.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The glory of Jesus' birth brought in.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV-h72hNmO6QuOE3Zn1dKxghDVzWDDpTYxpITBKlhQRjoCJmxzhh3tXfLI6RXB8ddp-B0oaIKKGZVAQUf4ei66kJl42aoJ7om8Gm-VBFU5A-ccGJWINfo0G-tV1BFUZY3GbrJy8Su2PS8/s1600/BLOG3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV-h72hNmO6QuOE3Zn1dKxghDVzWDDpTYxpITBKlhQRjoCJmxzhh3tXfLI6RXB8ddp-B0oaIKKGZVAQUf4ei66kJl42aoJ7om8Gm-VBFU5A-ccGJWINfo0G-tV1BFUZY3GbrJy8Su2PS8/s1600/BLOG3.jpg" height="640" width="425" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I am going through the motions.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Staring at boxes nestled away 11 months of the year and the part of me that was eager to open them two weeks ago is tired now.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I'm tired of the "<i>clean up your toys</i>" battle.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
It makes me feel like I'm failing at nurturing gratitude & is robbing me of the joy I find in giving.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
It makes me feel like Christmas decorations are just <i>another mess</i>.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVfESAN0t7HiNg9FCZ4zrRbpnnv5RacwO_KvZntIyxmbi-SsiA2hwP7j3JiQ0c408V-rv4bnAjYHT6vNgs1qxggqbVtbF9eDcBgI2rjA_dWP9n2SxR-u8lConS7HzVbJ48gyd-s3aKPNc/s1600/BLOG4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVfESAN0t7HiNg9FCZ4zrRbpnnv5RacwO_KvZntIyxmbi-SsiA2hwP7j3JiQ0c408V-rv4bnAjYHT6vNgs1qxggqbVtbF9eDcBgI2rjA_dWP9n2SxR-u8lConS7HzVbJ48gyd-s3aKPNc/s1600/BLOG4.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I want to embrace my Savior's birth.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I want to remember the Christmas I lost our second baby but gained a sliver of perspective on JUST what Mary gave.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
She gave <i>her son</i>.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>HER baby boy</i>.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Born in a barn, far from home, fulfilling promise for mankind.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
For ME!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHEW45ODZp0c03sxXWfygiZODA3xOh6YS_W0k73tBeQcgtcg-ggBbl6G_ayRxHj-A9LEgvQkTXj2omDwyrPpX0pRLLcrPmKoiBeVufa6ySpLxjQjcXUuRkJKApjsOHIwJ4B1gnLwA9_E0/s1600/BLOG5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHEW45ODZp0c03sxXWfygiZODA3xOh6YS_W0k73tBeQcgtcg-ggBbl6G_ayRxHj-A9LEgvQkTXj2omDwyrPpX0pRLLcrPmKoiBeVufa6ySpLxjQjcXUuRkJKApjsOHIwJ4B1gnLwA9_E0/s1600/BLOG5.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I will come to the table and meet with Him.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Over and over each day</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Laying down my heart churning with both gratitude & burden.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I'll let Him in to change the spirit of Christmas from adorned home to adored life.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
And I will praise.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
That is what I will do. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-40HKoGRT2MDPDVqwcDyvKq1Vp294KzS97Gv5OTXZf4Yfn_BWdi_GccM9DnHEVNmS6LNWUEAYccmCcx2z-EUeTAE8YYZup4AIzRU1cRjQO3Lhmi3J_BbjgO3asQ8R_ixXEVdQPXtOipA/s1600/BLOG6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-40HKoGRT2MDPDVqwcDyvKq1Vp294KzS97Gv5OTXZf4Yfn_BWdi_GccM9DnHEVNmS6LNWUEAYccmCcx2z-EUeTAE8YYZup4AIzRU1cRjQO3Lhmi3J_BbjgO3asQ8R_ixXEVdQPXtOipA/s1600/BLOG6.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://rosiethomas.bandcamp.com/track/o-come-o-come-emmanuel">O Come O Come Emmanuel</a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-35021823926920903302014-10-19T10:07:00.002-07:002014-10-20T11:00:21.198-07:00The Gift of ExperienceChristmas is coming.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ITzsHmjVJaelzEoaM97IkgdTgWpoqmIYuIR068wDxR-oI6JvohSKXqJdVBtFqGRyNIC35I2roOT6SQsCgnKmEibrx53P2ep-NF7ObT_24QwakXba0DVZoxRYE0VTG3qdNC7tkQEk4Uc/s1600/Christmas+Dinner03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ITzsHmjVJaelzEoaM97IkgdTgWpoqmIYuIR068wDxR-oI6JvohSKXqJdVBtFqGRyNIC35I2roOT6SQsCgnKmEibrx53P2ep-NF7ObT_24QwakXba0DVZoxRYE0VTG3qdNC7tkQEk4Uc/s1600/Christmas+Dinner03.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
I love this season for the magic it brings. Twinkling lights, <a href="http://rosiethomas.bandcamp.com/track/o-come-o-come-emmanuel">Rosie Thomas Christmas music</a>, the smell of a fresh turkish fur, chilly weather, decorations, & the spirit of intention; that's what I see in the still small anticipatory moments. I fear however, like every month, the time ushers past me too quickly and I'm caught up in the navigation of daily life with the added holiday agenda.<br />
<br />
Already I am dreaming of Christmas morning and seeing the faces of some of those I love opening up presents. I have spent possibly <i>too much time</i> considering just what to wrap up for them before purchasing. Then there's the worry that my children will MISS the reason of the season: Jesus. That <b>I</b> will miss JESUS in the season!<br />
<br />
Yesterday, in an epic toy explosion we call KK, we had the chance to examine every single toy we own strewn out around the living room. Wide eyed, my husband and I stared at each other: this is NOT what we want!<br />
<br />
I shared, "<i>Sweetie, I really WANT to ask people NOT to get our children toys for Christmas,"</i> and he acquiesced.<br />
<br />
Now before you think I'm a horrible mother trying to strip the magic of Santa's delivery or rob grandparents of their ability to love long distance, it's NOT that I want to rob my children, it's quite the opposite, I want to GIVE to my children. I am not against the idea of gifting (after all, it's MY very own love language. I LOVE gift giving). What I want though for my children is the gift of <i><b>experience</b></i>.<br />
<br />
I know, Skylanders are an experience (a technologically odd one but an experience none the less), blocks expand the mind, remote helicopters are fun (for dad), & nerf guns are fabulous but they all lose their magic. Each toy that was so highly coveted soon becomes a thing of the past and only remembered if in generations to come they are resurrected again, like Ninja Turtles or Strawberry Shortcake. What takes longer to dissipate, what builds bonds, what grows relationships is the gift of <b><i>experience</i></b>.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZHwO8rn6IsYBrH9Hi_DTEuOUJ44VBsF72G1yL7Azz8w1JFQs48Tde52zo3hLzXQkWk4rbtEhGsRHVbdTI6ZBH-i_Tix-GDsvjXwhANxHScbmXe0DUhMtOeWcZix21kluoeUpkpojCcZ0/s1600/Bowling+Girls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZHwO8rn6IsYBrH9Hi_DTEuOUJ44VBsF72G1yL7Azz8w1JFQs48Tde52zo3hLzXQkWk4rbtEhGsRHVbdTI6ZBH-i_Tix-GDsvjXwhANxHScbmXe0DUhMtOeWcZix21kluoeUpkpojCcZ0/s1600/Bowling+Girls.jpg" /></a>From my childhood, what I cherish most now is the gift my grandma gave of The Candy Cane Tree. Before she arrived at our house, she'd hang a barren tree with dozens of candy canes. All three of us would line up at the end of the street and at the word GO would race down and strip the tree of it's new peppermint leaves and see who won the "<i>who got the most!</i>" contest. I remember all of the clothes we would get and between cousins our eyes would meet and silently say, "<i>I can't wait to return this with you on our after-Christmas shopping trip!"</i> I LOVE the annual gift my Aunt and Uncle gave us of family bowling WITH team shirts. And of course, there is always the gift of Christmas Dinner at the castle. Gifts of love, time, & laughter that just STICK in my heart like cinnamon roll frosting on my fingers.<br />
<br />
I don't want my children to relive my experience and the magic it brought me. I want them to have their own. I want them to be sown into with opportunity: college support, swimming lessons, a chance to go to the movie theater, an art class, a pottery painting hour, a date for a shake at Sonic, a trip to Dutch Brothers for a hot chocolate. Some of these experiences are less than $5 and give the gift of living life outside of our own financial ability to provide or sustain.<br />
<br />
The humbling part is that I realize in writing this that my wish to dictate what is given to my children is selfish. I want to orchestrate the love that is sent to them, given to them, doted upon them to fit within my parenting dreams.<br />
<br />
In this moment, I stare at the sea of legos, the ninja turtle figurines, and the endless supply of hot wheels and wonder, <i>is this not relational experience too between brothers?</i> Perhaps I am off base. The heart of this rant, however, is my acknowledgement that time is invaluable and what an amazing opportunity to gift others in our lives with small gifts to encourage relationship. At the very epicenter of my heart is the desire to spend less time frustrated at the chaos of cleaning & more time GIVING LIFE to my family in the art of making memories.<br />
<br />
{Looking for ideas on how to give non-toy gifts?? Check out <a href="http://nourishingminimalism.com/2014/07/18-non-toy-gifts-for-children.html">this post</a>!}a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-41185707675664688732014-10-07T19:33:00.001-07:002014-10-07T21:35:06.883-07:00Recovering from Recovery<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">We have come through to the other side of Kheler's post surgical recovery! </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">We made it! </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">It wasn't like we expected, yet we didn't actually <i>know</i> what to expect.</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">It was <i><u>hard</u></i>. </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">You know how doctors give you those "<i>there's a 10% chance x, y, & z could happen"</i> statistics and you think, "Well, THOSE are great odds!"? </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">Well, they ARE good odds, but we weren't the 90%, we were the 10%. </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">I circled my emotional drain multiple times a day. </span></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">Each morning I started my day on my 1/8' of the bed with the verbal proclamation, "<i>I can't do this!</i>" and I meant it. It wasn't a hypothetical statement, it was one I believed in my core. </span></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">It turns out, we have a VERY strong willed, determined, and stubborn son. All three years of him convinced us that he <i>will</i> become a doesn't-take-dookie Navy Seal Commander. That kid had my husband and I, two people on the same team, convinced the other was an under cover spy working for the enemy. </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">We had a son who had become a popsciletarian, anti-beverage, and could be a poster child for DARE...he WOULD NOT take the drugs! I mean, bravo to him, I hope it stays that way, but in this particular season, we were practically {no, we actually were} pinning him down, blowing air up his nostrils to get him to open his mouth long enough to super-soak his throat with hydrocodone only to watch him volcanically erupt it back in our direction. Did you get winded by the ridiculous length of that sentence? It was worse in real life.</span></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">In all of it's empty, ugly, exhausting, heart breaking misery though, there was life being planted for us. </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">The only comparison I have now for what we went through and now being on the other side is that it was like depression. When you are depressed, truly, dark hole, desolate depressed, you can't even fathom what a smile feels like or remember what happiness FEELS like. People TELL you you will feel it again, but the numbness has spread too deep. </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">This was like that. I KNEW it was temporary, but I COULD NOT see the light. I could NOT get on my knees and pray...I could only beg. My prayers became like tick marks on a prison wall, "<i>Just make it stop. Make.It.Stop!</i>" I KNEW there was an ending, but I didn't see how we were going to feel normal again. And in ALL of that, I felt greedy for taking up air space with God. </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">Who was I to be praying for a fever, a bleeding throat, a child who was fighting me to get better when there are others with so much more persistent pain? </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">I found myself void of the reality that this inconsequential moment in my life MATTERED to Him.</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">But that's where He worked. </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">He climbed in the holes others were keeping Him FOR me. </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">He lived in my neighbor who lovingly shared her empathy and was my guide through this. He used her as the echo reminding me, "<i><b>You're not alone!</b></i>"</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">He breathed through my best friend who sat on the other end of the phone letting me be angry and telling me, "I'm sorry," which was exactly what I needed...just to vent.</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">He lifted me up through my girl friends as we tri-talked via group chat in facebook. When I went silent, they said, "<i>Get <u>real</u> with us!</i>"</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">He hugged me & spread His covering over me through the servants heart of a friend who put together a meal train, made treat and present deliveries and showed up at the ER the second time Kheler had to go in.</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">He stared me in the face each time I opened my door and found a balloon, stuffed animal, gift, flowers or a note from a complete stranger wishing us well.</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">My friend Carin wrote the most beautiful blog & included a bit about our walk through this recovery. She wrote, "</span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><i style="color: #333333; font-size: 16px; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">I felt like walking behind her that week with a sign pointing at her that read 'BE NICE! She hasn't slept in a week and her baby boy is really really sick. Buy her a coffee.'</i><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">" And it made me CLING to the reality that we are LOVED, we are PROVIDED for, we MATTER. It makes me want to LOVE out harder, more compassionately, more sacrificially, more intentionally than ever.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">It was dark. It is light again. We each have our seasons where we need someone behind us with a sign. Who are you holding the sign for right now? Who do you need to hold a sign for? Are you the one who needs the sign? </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 20.5919990539551px;">Know this, the sun always shines again.</span></span></div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-72412174048383728192014-09-28T11:20:00.000-07:002014-09-28T11:20:20.813-07:0050 Shades Past ExhaustedThe days have all run in together making me lose track of time, thoughts, and even peace.<br />
<div>
I have been watching my son slowly (SO slowly) try to heal from a seemingly minor, "everyone does it" surgery and I am weary. Even with hoards of love, prayer, and concern cast forth upon us, I am weary. </div>
<div>
It was the other night that I found myself battling it out with Jesus. </div>
<div>
50 shades past exhausted, I held my son in newly changed sheets sans bile, as he breathed deeply drifting into rest.</div>
<div>
"<i>Jesus, I KNOW you can heal. I KNOW you DO heal. But I can't ask you to heal this because I feel selfish. There are families dealing with cancer, death, terminal illness, and I am desperate after four long days; four long days that I know have an imminent end. HOW is this ok? HOW are children being sick ok?</i>"</div>
<div>
I grappled in perhaps the most real I have ever let myself get with Jesus. I was angry & it seemed trite. I was too tired to scoot my chair back and excuse myself from the table with Him. </div>
<div>
I processed this with two of my girl friends. One of them so astutely asked, "<i>Have you 'heard' anything placed into your heart from Him during these days?</i>" And I had. I had been reminded in love, "<b>Don't put human limits on me</b>" but I shuffled past that dealt card and kept on moaning. Angry that I couldn't take my son's pain for him, doubting my motherly instinct to proceed with the surgery, fearing that my son would be traumatized by this. I couldn't lay my thoughts down and turn the battle off. I couldn't rest in the truth in my delirium. </div>
<div>
My husband is my best friend and teammate and here we are, at opposite ends of our son, pinning him down, forcing another syringe ever so gently against his grinding teeth and fitful body thrashing, forgetting to speak to each other in love. Sheer desperation for this to be OVER we find it easier to grumble, grunt, and toss out the "<i>I wish you had's</i>". </div>
<div>
In ALL of this, I have been just crushed inside that parents deal with this over much more severe illnesses and I felt the weight of their heavy shoulders bearing down on my lungs squeezing all of my remaining breath from my soul. My body & bed have been paired magnets disabling my ability to move. </div>
<div>
"<i>Jesus, I don't understand this world and it's hurts. I KNOW you took on all sin so I could have everlasting life. I KNOW you understand human pain, hunger, thirst, need for you were once here, too. I love you, even when I am angry and fighting you with my toddler fists demanding answers. I KNOW you love me, you love my son more than I do. I KNOW. And I'm so sorry I find myself so ungracious right now. Please help me. Protect my marriage, my sons, my self from the battlefield of my own heart and mind in this moment of earthly aching. Amen.</i>"</div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-71537495349054073312014-07-27T09:34:00.001-07:002014-07-27T09:50:21.835-07:00Tricks of the Save<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Ok so saving money tricks is one of my favorite topics! I talk a lot about it lately with other women and of course with my husband as we have now celebrated the accomplishment of 8 years of HARD and focused work!</span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">8 years ago, my husband & I took financial counseling at Saddleback in Orange County when we were first married. We started our marriage with over a combined $80k in debt from from both college & business loans that we were locked in to but that we wanted to be free of to achieve our goals. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>Our family goals included</b> </span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">1. Buying a home</span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">2. Traveling</span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">3. When we had kids, that I could be a stay at home mom</span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">In the early years, my husband made about $15 and hour and I made $13. We were living on the pennies left over from car payments, student loan payments, and business credit card debt. In our first apartment, we had all hand-me-down furniture that included a lovely set of christmas colored chairs & an ornate glass dining table. We didn't have a couch or living room furniture aside from a television that didn't even have cable and an ikea coffee table. But in it's own right, it was the magic of starting off.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">So, we pursued change!</span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Between the financial tools that Saddleback gave us together & the classes Christan took with the Dave Ramsey plan, we kicked out all debt about four years ago. That makes it sound easy, but it wasn't. It included</span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">PAYING a car dealership to take back one of our cars, carpooling, doubling up credit card payments, doubling up student loan payments, knocking out debt one debt at a time until 1 year ago we were entirely debt free. It included other sacrifices like not having cable {which we still don't have}.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">If we HADN'T done this, two years ago when we BOTH lost our jobs we would have lost our home. As it was, we had no car payments and no pending debt we owed on. We had an emergency savings account we had poured into at Dave Ramsey's teaching and it "paid" for one of the hardest years of our life where we DID have to sell our home and move out of state to find work. However, today, after just celebrating a year of employment we have accomplished remaining DEBT FREE, buying a new home, and owning two new cars. It's HUGE for us. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">How do we do it now?</span></b></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">-We are on a cash only system. With each pay period I pull out our cash for things like Groceries, Gas, Clothes, Dates, Babysitting & Gifts. I have all of our cash organized in a coupon filer. When the cash is gone, we don't spend. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">-We have an amazing budgeting tool we were gifted from Saddleback that we use to help us figure out where the money goes and how much we have for the necessities as well as the fun. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">-We have a spreadsheet that shows which bills fall into which pay period so I know exactly what goes out and when it goes out by week. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Other Savings Tricks</span></b></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></b></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><u>Every morning I do 3 things</u>:</span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">1. Load coupons to my <a href="http://www.fredmeyer.com/Pages/default.aspx" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Freddy's card</a>. The coupons I load to my grocery shopping rewards card are automatically deducted at check out + they let me print my coupon/shopping list to help.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">2. Check <a href="http://couponproblog.com/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">couponpro</a> </span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<div class="gmail_default" style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">3. Check groupon & living social for family activities & restaurant deals (the reality is we WILL use them at some point and we LOVE adventure so we budget for it and pre-plan for it. My motto is <b><i>without a plan both time and money are wasted</i></b>)</span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I also....</span></b></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">1. Do a lot of online shopping in order to save! I use <a href="http://www.ebates.com/rf.do?referrerid=hzBIm9%2BDmQoN8fwTHlUJkg%3D%3D&eeid=26471" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">ebates</a> to shop because they give me quarterly cash back kick backs for just linking my shopping through them & <a href="http://www.retailmenot.com/">retailmenot</a> to always check from promo codes before I check out.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">2. Use my YELP app wherever I go! There are often check in incentives like a free drink, 10% off, etc.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">3. Use Target's Cartwheel App + the Shopkick app when I'm at Target because I save a lot</span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">4. I always plan ahead - if something is one sale and I know we use it, I buy it {clothes, gift cards through Freddys, cleaning supplies}. I keep a back stock so nothing is ever an urgent purchase.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">5. I recycle. We often have soda cans and water bottles in stock so as we drink I save them and I take them to Costco or the local grocery store to recycle. It's worth the couple dollars I get back from that for me me to put towards my groceries.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">6. I Christmas shop & Birthday shop all year long. I keep the gifts in my closet so it spreads out the financial "burden" of gifting {which I love to give gifts}</span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>In the end</b></span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Saving is a way of life for me. </span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I value it & it IS my job. </span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">My husband has asked me to track how much I save and when I save so we can truly understand the income I currently make with the hard work that goes into PLANNING, RESEARCH, & SAVING.</span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I am tremendously GRATEFUL that we have taken the lessons we learned early on seriously. There were times we felt desolate and utterly discouraged as we looked at other people and what they had. What we have experienced in the last year as a result of YEARS working to better our financial situation, however, is irreplaceable. I don't see what we don't have. I see what we DO.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We live on one income, I am home with my kids, we LIVE life & I LOVE that! It's worth all my time learning and saving.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="color: black; font-size: small;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">What are some of your tricks??</span></b></div>
</div>
</div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-75728593009687521372014-07-17T09:58:00.002-07:002014-07-17T10:06:17.086-07:00Heat, Heat, Go Away <br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I spent another evening, night, and now this morning deep in thought.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I've been chastising my self for how I was made; that I was made to love cool, calm climates & detest the heat.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I get that this must sound ridiculous, but I feel this ache in me today that I quite seriously wilt in personality & capability to function when the temperature is above 80.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My best friend loves when it's 75 degrees at a minimum.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I LOVE when it's 65 degrees at a maximum.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We have always made jokes about it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yes, I am a California girl</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
BUT</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I'm a California Coast girl which means that 75 is often breezy but mostly, the weather is cool, calm, and collected 365 days a year.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
When we moved to Oregon, I worshiped the rain.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I was vocal about my love of the grey skies and surprised to find that "the overwhelming amount of rain" was really all hype because it's not that bad.... <i><b>for ME</b></i>.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1_LrmR8cGMuTW-200EW_kHqA5YfZOKHfxvvfMJSwnPWrmrRN_Gqp8TR0XmShqQxRJerQoH8tf_tN7HF5l0HIvsiyQUQ1RBG8em0Eo9lktnxwPrXS_Yvmq8TquWfv6O1jC6Fw1li4jVW0/s1600/2014-07-16+18.24.04-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1_LrmR8cGMuTW-200EW_kHqA5YfZOKHfxvvfMJSwnPWrmrRN_Gqp8TR0XmShqQxRJerQoH8tf_tN7HF5l0HIvsiyQUQ1RBG8em0Eo9lktnxwPrXS_Yvmq8TquWfv6O1jC6Fw1li4jVW0/s1600/2014-07-16+18.24.04-2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a>Last night we went to family camp at church.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's not a spend-the-night camp, but just an evening to interact and be intentional with the kids.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
For weeks I have been anticipating this event.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Not like, "oh yay I'm so excited!" but like, "oh my gosh! I just don't know if I can <b><i>DO</i></b> this!"<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's ok if you're rolling your eyes</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I read that and I think, "Duh-RAMA!"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But here's the thing,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I know my self.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
Ever since I was young, the heat evaporates who I am.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And last night, I felt truly <i><b>ashamed</b></i> by that truth.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Internally I was telling myself how ridiculous I was & I walked away feeling like the worst mom, wife, and church member. No one said anything to make me feel that way! I just DID.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I found myself wanting to apologize for who I was that evening and explain, God just didn't make me for heat.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But is that real?<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Did God not make me for the heat?<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I don't know if I buy that.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I just know that the Allegra you get if we're in a coffee shop is ME and who I am if we're outside and I'm sweating is like meeting three-year old me (at BEST).</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So if God made us uniquely with gifts or passions for varying things like communicating, art, hiking, gardening, writing, or public speaking, could He also make us uniquely made for climates that bring out the best or worst in our human spirits?<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I'm feeling silly for feeling crummy about who I am today....</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"DRAMA!"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
;-)</div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-81380643580513648672014-07-16T11:28:00.000-07:002014-07-16T11:31:39.988-07:00high dives and puddle jumps<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This is one of those posts where I feel like it could rub people the wrong way. One that puts my heart out there to potentially be cracked, but I feel it churning and when that happens, it has to come out with all of it's truth & good intention.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My son is turning three.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's the age old tale for me of making sure everyone is included, no one is left out, and most of all my children only know love.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The tale is a twisted one with bumps and bruises from falls {high dives and puddle jumps} but it all comes down to divorce.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My parents couldn't be more opposite people, both amazing in their own right of being, but oil and vinegar always separate even IF you shake them up for a bit.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I remember when my first son was coming into the world - I worried not only about my in laws but my two sets of parents. Managing expectations and taking personal responsibility for the emotion management of others is something I can't seem to grow out of. I wear it like the five extra pounds I want to shed but can't quite commit to working off. So the burden sits there, like a noose.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Six years of grandchildren's' birthdays later, I still become achingly aware of the crevice of pain that IS my family. Not my husband's or my children's', but my past that always comes knocking. While I have learned to navigate through it, there is still a five year old girl in me who never gets used to watching her mommy & daddy hate each other.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXE5iunDbJOy_nk8cH6dmed8MiFjKdrWAUkH0yRR2K9D485kEQ_EK5QpFdtHaOsfMMMvHMedazp95z1FEqAk1QqzJ7KDGcVdB8DQJVU6PYbl0O6MJnS-l-IEwJfDwjK3SaXYjVroXVaRk/s1600/2011-12-09+16.07.03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXE5iunDbJOy_nk8cH6dmed8MiFjKdrWAUkH0yRR2K9D485kEQ_EK5QpFdtHaOsfMMMvHMedazp95z1FEqAk1QqzJ7KDGcVdB8DQJVU6PYbl0O6MJnS-l-IEwJfDwjK3SaXYjVroXVaRk/s1600/2011-12-09+16.07.03.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Most of my life, I've lived near with or near my mom.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
31 years of it actually.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
For one year, I've lived near my dad.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Growing our friendship, sharing the ins and outs of the little things vs. one week a year relational saturation.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Now my mom is the visitor, the the home field belongs to my dad.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I am the field manager.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I am acutely aware of the precautions that need to be established, the traffic signs that need to be put up to avoid any encounter pre-game.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This year, there isn't a pre-game...no party, no birth for anyone to be forced to co-mingle at the center of the field for; there's just a one sided coin toss:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
mom wins one week.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
see you in a bit, dad.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The pink elephant in the room LOOMS there.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We all pretend fifteen miles away is one thousand, that every day grandparent roles haven't switched, and a state line doesn't divide us.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I am five on the inside, thirty-two on the outside.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I am a mom who desperately wants my children to be protected from the bad relationships that DO exist in their extended family.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I am the mom who struggles to answer their questions: </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"<i>Who's your mommy & who's your Daddy, mommy?</i>"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I am the daughter who probably won't ever reconcile the pain it causes me but I will continually unload the burden on Jesus to show me how to love like a grown woman, not a hurt child.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My son is turning three.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Separate celebrations will happen because it's best for everyone involved;</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But wouldn't it be amazing IF we could all lay the burden down and BE love for that little boy in one place, at one time, all together?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It would.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-1319088612338838862014-06-16T09:21:00.001-07:002014-06-16T09:22:27.543-07:00Managing Summer<div style="text-align: center;">
I feel like Summer just SNUCK up on me & I can't quite wrap my head around all my hopes, dreams, plans & goals.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Last night I just had to sit down, write it out, and get it on paper.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My personal reality is I have an etsy store that I want & need to succeed. I'm also a mom of a 2.5 year old & 6 year old with night & day personalities {one extrovert who wants all day attention & one introvert who wants quiet time}. Of course then there's also my short resume that includes home accountant, maid, entertainment manager, personal shopper & saver, behavior & character development manager, wife, friend, short order chef, & self.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
To wrap my head around all of this succeeding, I had to lay it out not for a strict sense of following a timeline, but to have some structure and order to our every day routine.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKYuobNUaM5p305wGF1C2vZ-4d1QBR3DocxotfNxPnx-mvsthCLugcBc-WdxopteMnYj4lNf0JiEnhKCfmezOax88jjl5d6j7o5LarlmKr3X28lz2IajkTxgGjA4KqXGZ_AErt5_SDa3w/s1600/Summer+Schedule.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKYuobNUaM5p305wGF1C2vZ-4d1QBR3DocxotfNxPnx-mvsthCLugcBc-WdxopteMnYj4lNf0JiEnhKCfmezOax88jjl5d6j7o5LarlmKr3X28lz2IajkTxgGjA4KqXGZ_AErt5_SDa3w/s1600/Summer+Schedule.jpg" height="308" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
At the heart of our family mantra is COLLECT MOMENTS & MAKE MEMORIES so my husband and I really love to live actively with our kids. It includes taking pictures and things as simple as a picnic at the park or last minute pizza dinner at a playground. We love adventure, newness & exploring. I figured with limited brain space for the months ahead, I should do some advance thinking & made a short list for us on those, "<i>I can't think of what to do</i>" moments</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBKymU_p1aUVT3OFqSkUvhTXQqZheO_YK_pWbWQ6WkNQzSoQaIovxg7pDZaH3yJftrTDmRyUHU5a4pi7rZkiyUh99uod3aOc5fKqBLBbwItlbVXPfuJxhhLFU6RgOWYfa4fYOIIWt6cWo/s1600/SUMMER+FUN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBKymU_p1aUVT3OFqSkUvhTXQqZheO_YK_pWbWQ6WkNQzSoQaIovxg7pDZaH3yJftrTDmRyUHU5a4pi7rZkiyUh99uod3aOc5fKqBLBbwItlbVXPfuJxhhLFU6RgOWYfa4fYOIIWt6cWo/s1600/SUMMER+FUN.jpg" height="308" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
So, I'm starting my 1st official Summer Morning following the schedule.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The kids are playing with the legos with PBS Kids on & I'm managing my 2 hour morning work allotment with some instagram marketing, some blogging, & some order processing. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifUJ425RsL-w2QrT9rei5b2WH5_Sbj-uVlT5oeX0YcONK8r5N8bWfRn7hQWuqDTWyUQ5gs57L9SybMnRowIL5SfBhp0UQ65YFEUTu0Wz_hguZNIf3hPdeh0qlRNS1SR6CE3xwzLtuhXIk/s1600/The+Upgrade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifUJ425RsL-w2QrT9rei5b2WH5_Sbj-uVlT5oeX0YcONK8r5N8bWfRn7hQWuqDTWyUQ5gs57L9SybMnRowIL5SfBhp0UQ65YFEUTu0Wz_hguZNIf3hPdeh0qlRNS1SR6CE3xwzLtuhXIk/s1600/The+Upgrade.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
It's really easy for me to get overwhelmed.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
My brain is often a firing ground for chaotic thoughts of lists ranging from the dreams to the do's.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I am HOPING some of this can start to feel natural as I have the grateful gift of being with my boys every day this summer!</div>
<br />a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-9794378529063943332014-06-09T08:40:00.001-07:002014-06-09T08:45:49.694-07:00Conquering THANK YOU Anxiety<div style="text-align: center;">
I grew up writing THANK YOU's</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's just what we did...and what we <i>should</i> do!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
NO ONE wants to send a gift & question, "<i>did they get it?</i>"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And everyone loves mail!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So, here are a few tips to take the anxiety (& WORK) out of your THANK YOU writing!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">GET ORGANIZED</span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgku6h9Zs-vfWq19G2ArhUah0NexcWTtZZes9pvPiPXD1ypDdu_ZNMGuRaK_ruD1cAqY8VMCOV39CSdrf0XKRu3W7uidm85hhuhd6nYj7VIyvCuioTtmVIwHHq6dt_HLF58T_k9kRnH5-A/s1600/Postable.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgku6h9Zs-vfWq19G2ArhUah0NexcWTtZZes9pvPiPXD1ypDdu_ZNMGuRaK_ruD1cAqY8VMCOV39CSdrf0XKRu3W7uidm85hhuhd6nYj7VIyvCuioTtmVIwHHq6dt_HLF58T_k9kRnH5-A/s1600/Postable.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>Update your address book...without doing any work!</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: left;">Sign up for <a href="http://postable.com/">Postable.com</a> & you will get your own private link to your address book</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Post the link on FaceBook or in a mass Email then your friends and family will input their own information </li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Your address book remains private to only you! The link just allows them to get their information in your address book!</li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">GET STOCKED</span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFCJaK3HtJ-Ay-3n8-AAjxckvYBHWFo0AY35H61RuJxpp_9g1CG-tQQEgvJf5JwQFiwS2panNZ_-_DtSYQ7WJdPS4_uzAQuxLICPOgemrafKkRIEBuq8BujX64MhtZQccIZneoue_V_kI/s1600/10295135_790880450944345_8688085323905902408_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFCJaK3HtJ-Ay-3n8-AAjxckvYBHWFo0AY35H61RuJxpp_9g1CG-tQQEgvJf5JwQFiwS2panNZ_-_DtSYQ7WJdPS4_uzAQuxLICPOgemrafKkRIEBuq8BujX64MhtZQccIZneoue_V_kI/s1600/10295135_790880450944345_8688085323905902408_o.jpg" height="400" width="353" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>Pick an assortment of Cards YOU love!</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<ul>
<li>Start with a small assortment that includes 1-<a href="https://sugarpaper.com/shop/product/thank-you-flag-boxed/">THANK YOU set</a>, 1-<a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/159272894/thinking-of-you-card-10pcs?ref=shop_home_active_7">BLANK/EVERY DAY set</a>, <a href="http://www.paper-source.com/cgi-bin/paper/item/Rifle-Candles-Birthday-Cards/3902.040/569707.html">1-<u>HAPPY BIRTHDAY set</u></a></li>
<li><b>DON'T</b> get scared of the pack price! Remember, when you buy one card at a time, you're spending $3-5 for 1 card! </li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>GET SUPPLIES</b></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi17AGQUzRLPEtHMV1S_FCLlb8SjRvsLeCSX9w_DWF7JP4QC4WXpA8AGc7g9I-EGD2JIHRSz60LDWXid4xlDl4SLPRtNJYDvHrlAsa7Iq2XMLnONHzDx90LS99E70a3yxPH_lDnNzI0_5M/s1600/10363466_790473790985011_2029668549916050024_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi17AGQUzRLPEtHMV1S_FCLlb8SjRvsLeCSX9w_DWF7JP4QC4WXpA8AGc7g9I-EGD2JIHRSz60LDWXid4xlDl4SLPRtNJYDvHrlAsa7Iq2XMLnONHzDx90LS99E70a3yxPH_lDnNzI0_5M/s1600/10363466_790473790985011_2029668549916050024_o.jpg" height="287" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>Take the "work" out of your thank you writing!</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<ul>
<li>Invest in a <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/atouchoflove">Return Address Stamp</a> <span style="font-size: x-small;">{Self Inking makes it even easier!!} </span></li>
<li>Pick out Stamps from the Post Office that you actually like! <span style="font-size: x-small;">{my FAVORITE is the "Vintage Seed Packet" Collection}</span></li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">GET WRITING</span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK_oxaJAxpnCcZ7zaMOaKWLJJaqytt9Nzx760d36S1vEC7vLoyBK7sDsJfwHhleBkI9vZwePWpFRgF4UAUT1h4w38RsT1D7dtFTMawbbZF2lHmCJm6LoKcmI__x-3pugD_S6at5-BeaCg/s1600/il_570xN.358220127_cpw2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK_oxaJAxpnCcZ7zaMOaKWLJJaqytt9Nzx760d36S1vEC7vLoyBK7sDsJfwHhleBkI9vZwePWpFRgF4UAUT1h4w38RsT1D7dtFTMawbbZF2lHmCJm6LoKcmI__x-3pugD_S6at5-BeaCg/s1600/il_570xN.358220127_cpw2.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<ul>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b>Start with The Thanks</b>: "I cannot thank you enough for <i>my beautiful candle"</i></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b>Make it genuine</b>: "Once again I find myself in awe of your ability to give just the right thing...."</li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b>How will you use it</b>: "I cannot wait <i>to burn my candle</i> this summer when I'm relaxing with my books."</li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b>Talk about them</b>: "Whenever I burn <i>my candle</i>, I will think of you & how we laugh together."</li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: center;">
In Short, <b><span style="font-size: large;">YOU CAN DO THIS!</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
True appreciation doesn't have to be long or labored, it just has to be genuine!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Reference your gift & their importance to you and that's what matters!</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919676454112052567.post-63645822972626117182014-05-26T06:00:00.000-07:002014-05-26T06:00:07.139-07:00A Love Letter to My Home<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Dear "Red House"</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I have wanted to write this letter to you for a long time, but I just couldn't wrap my heart around the concept of it; the concept of <i>really</i> saying goodbye. I knew that leaving you wasn't an "<i>I'll see you again soon,</i>" but a, "<i>thank you for the time we shared</i>" and it burned my eyes and choked my throat.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I wanted to tuck a handwritten note into your eves for only you to know, but I was raw & sore with goodbyes I could barely say. I wanted you to keep a piece of truth in your foundation so that no matter where time took you, you would know, that you <b>ARE</b> loved and always will be.</div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
When I met you, you were so broken. You were abandoned and unloved, forgotten and cast aside. When I saw you, I knew, <b>I knew</b> I wanted to share my life with you. I wanted you to shape me and change me in all the ways that I would do the same for you. I wanted to love you whole as I knew you would do for me.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOWg4LqTVxpniKVGmUOxlBADcbJuMNS4xWowYKH2OyWXTLhfGOmNDO7dXwHZ8SpwxvQ2anZ1fAdh4EdfDeD7YikhzkSlQ590a_0cirz1TZrTOGquae6_ZJhrT_2qXFQOolAtIoZFb-tdg/s1600/Before:After1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOWg4LqTVxpniKVGmUOxlBADcbJuMNS4xWowYKH2OyWXTLhfGOmNDO7dXwHZ8SpwxvQ2anZ1fAdh4EdfDeD7YikhzkSlQ590a_0cirz1TZrTOGquae6_ZJhrT_2qXFQOolAtIoZFb-tdg/s1600/Before:After1.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
People might think I'm crazy for loving you so, but it's something I can't explain. You were <i>home</i>. You were the first time I had <b>hope</b> that I could plant roots. Where people saw dust and broken bones, I saw scabs that would heal & scars that would mend. You were my vision, dream home, and you became my reality.</div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Our first night with you was spent as a family of three on a mattress in your living room. We cuddled there nursing our first born through a high fever on memorial day weekend. You sheltered us then. </div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
We brought our second born home to you. You let me shape a nursery and dream a room up that I missed with my first. You answered this quiet little dream of mine that lived loudly in my soul.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
You hosted our friends and families. You stayed up with me during the sleepless nights. We gave you your white kitchen and you gave it back to us. You shared laughter, arguments, and sorrows with us. </div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>If your walls could talk....</i></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
You let Christan protect you & give me my dream with his hand made white picket fence. You kept my babies safe while they laughed and played in your yard. You entertained us on the lawn for afternoon wine picnics with the neighbors. You were our office & our nest.</div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Dreams became REAL with you, within you.</div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
So, my dear sweet "Red House" as our boy named you, I love you.</div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I will always love you.</div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
You could not have inherited a better new family to love and to love you back. You are sheltering them as you sheltered us. They are shaping you as you are shaping them. </div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
You are no longer a house, <i><b>you are a home</b></i>.</div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
With love, </div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The family who will always know you as home</div>
a.lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09527132099554443047noreply@blogger.com0