Sorry to Hear That. Sorta.

Lessons From the Edge

You gotta follow the rules.

I'm a "rule follower" by nature. Following the rules is not new to me.
But I don't like people telling me what to say/write. So when I am TOLD what to say, well, that little rebellious nature in me rears its head. And I want to NOT say what I've been TOLD to say.

OK, background information complete.
You probably know (if you've been reading here with some consistency...) that Edgewood has just come under new ownership. And with new ownership comes new rules. Which one can find if they read their new Employee Handbook.
Who reads that stuff, anyway?
I do. I'm a rule follower, you know!
So, as I was perusing my new Employee Handbook my attention was peeked when I came to the section about social media - which includes any blogs we may happen to write. Apparently, anytime I mention or discuss matters pertaining to my work at Edgewood (gah! I need to get used to calling it Vista Springs Edgewood...) I now need to include a disclaimer at the end of my entry, freeing Vista Springs from any ties to my words or opinions. Because I am so controversial in what I say here. *wink*

So, I'm buckling under the pressure. I'm going to say what I've been TOLD to say. Even though I don't want to. Because I'm a rule follower, remember? And in case the new boss-man (or anyone else up the chain) reads one of these Lessons, well, I don't want to get fired for insubordination.

You gotta follow the rules.

Disclaimer: The ideas and opinions expressed in this post are my own, and may not necessarily reflect those of Vista Springs Living Centers.

Gone Adventuring

We had house-guests last weekend.
Elizabeth's boyfriend, Nick (aka Beau), and their friend, Emma, came for a visit. And they had a full weekend. Raking leaves, watching movies, dinner out with friends, Sunday school, youth group...and somehow at the end of it, they were looking for more. Elizabeth asked me if they could go on an adventure. She said they wanted to go somewhere she'd never been in Okemos, and "have an adventure".
I knew they just wanted to be together and have fun - exploring the land - so I said, "Ok."
With that, they looked at some area maps and headed out the door.

An hour, or so, later Nick and Michaela (Elizabeth's BFF - who joined in most of the weekend's festivities) came into the house laughing. They wanted me to come outside to see what they'd gotten. Nick grabbed the camera and - honestly? - for a moment I was afraid of what I might find when I stepped out the door.
Did he really need to capture my reaction on film?

Turns out I didn't need to be afraid. The thing they'd gotten was an old toboggan.
And the way they got it was by playing the Bigger or Better Game. They started off with a penny and traded themselves up to a great-big wooden toboggan. They had a blast doing it, as they made good memories. And now we have a new sled for when the snow falls.

Love my adventurers!

HE Sees

She had nothing to say about it. No choice in the matter. She simply had to do as she was told.
Pushed into a man's arms and bed, she wound up pregnant and mistreated.
And she ran.
She ran into the dessert where she could be alone. No matter. No one would notice, anyway, would they? She was an insignificant slave girl. Unloved and unseen. Who would care if she left her miserable existence?

Do you recognize this story? It is the circumstance in which Hagar found herself in Genesis 16. But the story doesn't end with the same despair with which it began.
On the contrary, Hagar had an encounter with the angel of the LORD and found a hope she'd never before imagined. The angel told her to go back to her mistress and promised he would increase her descendants. Then he told Hagar that she was pregnant (Although she already knew...) and gave her details about her son's life.
Imagine with me what that must have been like for Hagar. This girl who had been treated like a piece of property - who probably felt unnoticed and forgotten - had just been spoken to by the angel of the LORD. He told her things no one else could possibly know about her. How could he know these things?
Unless, unless...
He actually saw her!
Genesis 16:13 says,

She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: “You are the God who sees me,” for she said, “I have now seen the One who sees me.”

And that's where the hope entered her life. Suddenly she was NOT unnoticed. She was seen.
The God who created the world saw her!

I am so encouraged by Hagar's story, and the implication for my life. God sees me, too. Every moment of every day. Even when I am feeling alone and unnoticed, HE sees.
Are you in need of this encouragement today, my friend? Do you feel like nobody sees you, or understands the things through which you're going? May you find hope in El Roi. The God who sees!
And if there is any way I can pray for you and your circumstance, please let me know.

Love to you!

Laundry Lessons

One of the things Brian has done to lighten my load since I've been working at Edgewood is this:
He gathers the laundry, sorts the loads, and puts them through the washer and dryer. He had a fairly short learning curve, and only has questions occasionally now. But the other night, Brian hit me with a question which still makes me laugh.

He held up a blue t-shirt and said, "So, I've got this shirt and the tag says, 'Wash separately.' How do I do that?"
Me: Seriously?
Brian: Yeah.
Me: You wash it without anything else.

Honest.

That was our conversation.

And Brian looked at me like I was the most brilliant person on the planet. I love it when I can impress him that easily.
Then I went on to explain the most probable reason for those instructions - to prevent the color from bleeding onto lighter clothing. And I told him to just throw his shirt in with the dark load.
"Are you sure it'll be OK?" he asked.
"Yeah. I'm sure."
Since I am apparently so brilliant when it comes to laundering, he took my word for it.
I love that man!
**************************************************************************************
And I am so glad he can answer my silly questions about car care and plumbing and appliances and the like.
We're good for each other. *wink*

I've Got Issues

Lessons From the Edge

We all need a little help from our friends.

We made fall door banners this week. I saw the idea in a magazine and thought it looked fun. And certainly it would be easy enough for the men and women at Edgewood to make. I would do all the grunt work - the measuring and tracing and cutting. All they'd need to do is choose their pieces and glue them to the banner. What could be easier than that???
In spite of how simple I thought I'd made the task, there were some who had troubles. One, in particular, just couldn't figure out how to apply the glue, where to put the leaves, etc. She was struggling. (But she has such a sweet personality, she never did get upset about her difficulty.)

And I was filled with joy.

Not at her struggle, mind you. I was filled with joy because I had the opportunity to witness friendship in action. While SH struggled with her craft, SY patiently and lovingly guided her through it. I kept hearing statements like, "Try this," "Hold it this way," "That looks nice," and "I'll help you with that."
SH has memory issues which affect her ability to do most things other people consider "easy".
So I watched with delight as SY helped her with the simplest of tasks. Without judgement, condemnation, or belittlement. SY just saw the need, and she helped. And SH accepted SY's assistance graciously. It was beautiful to see the two of them working together.

Your mind might not be foggy like SH's, but I be it's true you need some help today.
*Has life got you bogged down by "too many things to do"?
*Maybe you're fighting a cold (or messed up your knee!) and you need someone to step in and give you a hand?
*Or, is it that nagging heart-ache just looking for a shoulder to cry on?
Whatever your need is today, when you see a friend offering assistance please accept it without shame or embarrassment. It's OK to need, and it's OK to receive.

We all need a little help from our friends.

Mom, You Need to See This

My hubby came across this video and showed it to me.

I'm so glad he did!
Because most of us are hyper-critical of ourselves and I think this video has some hope to offer.

Soak it in, dear friend. Soak it in!

Visit NBCNews.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Another Favorite Song

I have so many favorite songs! I can't help it. God uses music to speak to me and touch my heart - and there are just so many that reach me tenderly. *peaceful sigh*
Most of my favorites come from Kathy Troccoli, but occasionally God sneaks one in from another artist. Like this one. I heard it for the first time last month when Brian and I were at the marriage retreat (click on the link if you want info about the retreat coming in March) and I still delight in the lyrics every time I listen.

Enjoy!

I've Come a Long Way

Last Friday Elizabeth had a bunch of girlfriends over for an Ice Cream Party.
We introduced her to Jersey Muds this summer when we were vacation and she wanted to share the freezing-cold-sugary-goodness with her friends. So they went to the store, bought all the ingredients and came home to assemble the amazing confection.
The girls watched with eager anticipation as Elizabeth concocted the Muds.

And all of them squealed with delight as they dug in. :)

And this is where things get amazing.
One of Elizabeth's guests had to work Friday at 5:00, meaning - she wouldn't be able to join the rest of the girls for a yummy dessert of Jersey Muds. And Elizabeth, as full of compassion as she is, couldn't bear for that to happen. So she asked me, "Mom, can I have my ice cream party before dinner?" *insert puppy-dog eyes*
Now, you need to understand. I am a stickler for not eating snacks before dinner. I don't want my kids ruining their appetites so they are unable to eat the good food I prepare for them. And filling up on sugar? *gah!* I didn't even allow Elizabeth to ingest refined sugar until after her first birthday. I was so uptight about that.

So, as I considered Elizabeth's request, and realized it would mean the girls probably wouldn't eat much dinner - because they were so full of sugar! - my first inclination was to say, "Uh, NO."

But I thought about my response before I verbalized it (Proof you can teach an old dog new tricks!) and I concluded ruining one's appetite for dinner with Jersey Muds one time truly would not be the end of the world. In fact, allowing for such reckless behavior *wink* might just be fun. For the girls, and for me. It might communicate to my daughter and her friends that they don't need to go somewhere else - or hide from me - when they want to do silly teenage things. Perhaps they would even become more assured that I am a safe person to whom they can come when they don't feel like any other adults are listening or understanding. Yeah. Maybe Jesus could even use Jersey Muds to help me draw closer to these girls.
So I said, "Yes." Yes to Jersey Muds before dinner - so all the girls could participate, and I could be a part of their good, clean (albeit too sugary) fun.
And I realized, I've come a long way!

Grace For You

Lessons From the Edge

We have to ask.

Tuesday my grandma didn't come to the dining room for lunch. So I went to her apartment to check on her.
She just wasn't feeling well. Needed to stay in bed and rest. We talked for a bit and then I had to leave. Grandma gave me her keys and asked me to check her mail later that afternoon. "Sure thing," I said, then kissed her and went on to my next thing.
A couple hours later, I was in the van rushing to get an errand done before going home. And I realized I'd forgotten to check Grandma's mail. Which is when I also realized I'd taken her keys off my wrist and didn't know where I'd put them. Doh!
I convinced myself to relax about it. I was going back to Edgewood in an hour, so I planned to find the keys and check/deliver her mail on my next trip. *Whew!*
The problem is, the next trip was super busy. (Meet & greet session with the new owner and residents/family members.) And when it was over I was in a rush to get home so I could join my family for dinner. When I was laying exhausted in bed that night, I realized once more I'd forgotten to check Grandma's mail look for Grandma's keys so I could check her mail. For just a second, I actually contemplated getting up and going into Edgewood to look around. My sleepy mind quickly nixed that idea.
So Wednesday morning I looked and I looked. Scoured the atrium. Searched the office. Looked around two other offices where someone might possibly have place "found" keys.
But I saw nothing.
So I looked some more. And still found no keys.
I walked upstairs to my grandma's apartment and sat down on the side of her bed. She asked, "Do you have my mail?" And I told her about losing temporarily misplacing her keys. But I assured her I would find them again. As soon as I got the newsletter started printing, I would get back to searching for the keys. "No need to worry, Grandma. God knows where they are!"
And I was off again, this time to get the newsletter going.

As I walked out of her apartment back to the activity room I prayed, God, I know you know where those keys are. You see them right now. Would you please lead me to them? And I trusted HE would.
I gathered a few pages for the newsletter from my desk then headed for the office. The remaining pages were somewhere in my boss's office so I went in there to find them. I looked over one desk, then another, until I found what I needed. I picked up the pages and as I turned to leave I spotted a set of keys on the other side of the desk. A double-take told me they were my grandma's keys, and I snatched them up for a closer look and a final determination.
Yep. They were hers!
God led me right to them while I was looking for my newsletter pages. *smile*

The thing is, I had already looked in this office for the keys. In fact, I thought I'd looked quite thoroughly. So, why, I wondered, didn't I find them the first time?
Well, the first time I hadn't prayed about it. I hadn't asked God for help. Really. That is the only difference I can make of the two situations. The keys were sitting on her desk as plain as day. Somehow, I just didn't see them the first time.
God used that "insignificant" moment to remind me of a valuable Truth. A lesson for me in every day. I am needy. HE sees. HE knows. And HE will help me. But I'll miss Him if I try to take care of things on my own.

We have to ask.

Beauty and the Beau: Halloween Edition

Elizabeth's BFF (Michaela) had a birthday party last weekend. And since her birthday is so close to Halloween, she decided to have a combination birthday/Halloween party. They had tons of fun planning, decorating, and making treats.
Since Nick is part of Elizabeth's life, Michaela invited him to the party, too. Since it was a Halloween party, they had to dress up. And since Elizabeth is still a little girl at heart, she decided they would dress up as a prince and princess. *grin*

Aren't they adorable?

The funniest part of the whole thing was that Elizabeth wanted Nick to wear some make-up. She thinks that's what princes do. And Nick, as gracious as he is, went kicking and screaming allowed her to put eyeliner and foundation on his face.
He came stomping up the stairs and declared, "If this doesn't prove to her I love her, I don't know what will!"
And there you have it. The way to know prince charming loves his princess: He wears make-up for her. (I love the sparkles by her eyes!)

And they lived happily ever after.

When Preposterous Becomes Profound

So, last week I told you I would post about a great conversation Brian and I had on our way home from the marriage conference. Well, here it is!

We were talking about wounds and memories and started on this thing where one of us would name a time or situation and the other had to share a corresponding memory.
Brian said, "Middle school." And I responded with a memory from computer class.
I was sitting in my chair doing something on the computer and my two best friends were standing behind me playing with my hair. (I used to have long hair.) One of them pulled it up onto the top of my head and then screamed, "Oh my gosh! You have such a hairy neck!"
So began my hatred of my neck and my fear of wearing pony-tails and braids. I actually shaved the back of my neck for the next several years.
Brian and I went on from that memory to talk about the hatred of my arms I've had since elementary school. They're hairy, too. And I grew up with the frequent experience of kids reacting to the hair on my arms in a way similar to how my best friends reacted to the hair on my neck. "Your arms are so hairy!"
"Wow, you have more hair on your arms than a guy!"
"How did you get such hairy arms?"
And on, and on.
Sometimes I thought about sarcastic come-backs with which I could reply. Like, "Oh, really? Wow, I've had these arms all my life, and I've never noticed that hair before. Thanks for pointing it out to me!" But even the best-delivered come-back did nothing to heal my breaking heart. I felt out-cast and ashamed, and wanted to hide my arms in any way I could.
I hated the mockery.
And I hated my hairy arms.
In fact, it was in elementary school when I decided my wedding gown would have long sleeves. Yes, some twelve years later I was married in AUGUST - in long sleeves.

So when Brian looked at me and said, "God picked those arms specially for you, because He loves you so much," I thought, That is the most preposterous thing I've ever heard. I thought for a moment then confided in Brian my belief that I would never be able to say I like my arms. I'd simply spent too much time hating them. I couldn't imagine ever feeling otherwise.
But Brian wasn't giving up. He kept insisting that God had given me these arms out of His great love. And after a while I sensed His Spirit moving in my heart.
Like He was asking me, Karen, do you really believe what you say you believe? When you say I can take bad circumstances and work good out of them, do you really believe it? When you profess that I am sovereign and good at all times, do you mean it? Do you?
Then is it possible I chose those arms specially for you, because I love you so much?
I couldn't argue.
I told Brian he was right. God did choose these arms specially for me! And as I prayed to surrender my hatred for these arms, God replaced my contempt with joy. I'm looking at my hairy arms now, and I am remembering God's faithfulness and power to redeem bad situations. I am reminded of His goodness. And I am actually anticipating the next time someone says to me, "Wow! You have really hairy arms." I'm going to respond with, "Yeah. I know. Isn't God great?!"

Dear Elizabeth

I sat down a couple nights ago and wrote to Elizabeth.

Actually, I've been writing to her for over 18 years now.
Sometimes weeks or months pass between entries, but I started a journal for her when I learned I was pregnant and it has become one of my joys.
Initially, I thought when she was a teenager I would write things like,

We had such and such conflict and this is what I did, and this is why. Hoping now that you're older you'll understand. ((hugs))

But I have found quite a different sort of thing happening.
*Sometimes I write about a struggle I've had and shared how God has been faithful.
*Other times I re-tell a conversation Elizabeth and I shared about an issue she's facing, and I try to speak more words of encouragement.
*Most recently I wrote out a prayer for her.

More and more, I am being filled with joy at the thought of God using these things I'm writing to speak Truth to Elizabeth and encourage her heart. Maybe even some day down the road when I am not here anymore.
I wonder, Will she read this one when she's struggling with motherhood? Will it give her hope to know I felt the same way? Will she be able to glimpse God's goodness through my words?

Even as I sit here and write these words, thinking and praying about how God might use them to bless my daughter, I am amazed and humbled by His gracious work in my life. I remember well the days of despair I faced years ago. I recall when I yelled, more often than I spoke. I think of wanting to resign my role as mother because I didn't think I could do it anymore. When "Surviving Motherhood" seemed like an oxymoron to me.
But God has used my darkest days and hardest moments to shape me. HE is transforming me into the woman HE created me to be. And I know - if God can do that work in me, surely He can use my feeble words to bless my daughter. Now, and in the years to come.
Yes, LORD, please make it so!

It Isn't About Our Performance

Lessons From the Edge

God is not surprised. By anything.

The boss-man (that is, the owner of Edgewood) joined us for our department meeting Monday morning. He doesn't usually sit in on those meetings, and I was surprised to see him there.
But God wasn't.
He came to the meeting because he had news to tell us. "I'm selling Edgewood," he said with a peaceful sort of sadness about him. I was surprised to hear his announcement.
But God wasn't.

As the meeting continued, the boss-man explained his reasons and did everything he could to assure us Edgewood will continue to be the excellent place it is today. As I listened, God began assuring me HE was not surprised by any of the morning's revelations. And I started feeling peaceful about it, too.
The question entered my mind about whether the new owner was going to bring in an new activities director. But the boss-man said there are no plans for personnel changes. He did say we're all going to "officially" be fired, and re-hired. (Will it go on my permanent record that I've been fired? That makes me feel like such a rebel. *wink*)
For a while I wondered what was going to happen to our Bible study. Would the new owner say I couldn't do that with the residents anymore? But I have since learned enough about him to believe we will be allowed to continue.
I still have a question about whether or not the new owner will be agreeable to me taking time off for speaking events. When I was hired, I was upfront about my speaking ministry and told them I would need to take time off a couple times a month for it. And the boss-man was OK with it.
But I wonder, What if the new owner isn't?
'Cuz that'll be a deal-breaker for me.
Yet, I remain confident God won't be surprised and so I am choosing to have peace about the uncertainties, too.

Next week I'll meet the new boss-man, and the sale will be finalized. Maybe everything will carry on as it has been for the past three years. Or, maybe it won't. I don't know. But God does, and so I wait. Without worry. Because...

God is not surprised. By anything.

Wounds Happen

While Brian and I were at the marriage conference last weekend, we heard a lot about wounds. The hurtful things which happened to people in their lifetime (often/mostly as children) which have stayed with them into adulthood. And which have been a source of pain and often the root of sin. Both men and women (husbands and wives) shed tears as they shared about the lies they have believed because of their wounds - and how believing those lies led to various sins, which in turn wounded their spouse.
For a time, I stopped being "wife" as I sat and listened. I became "protective mother" and could only think about how desperately I want to keep my children from being wounded. As I witnessed the pain these people had endured - as I recalled my own wounds - all of my energy was focused on the notion that, somehow, I had to find a way to protect my babies.

During the drive home, Brian and I talked more about wounds (I'll post a great story about our conversation next week...) and I told him how I had felt about wanting to protect our kids. Brian understood my desire, but we agreed it will never happen. Our children have already been wounded. WE have wounded them, though that was never our intent. And they will continue to receive wounds as long as they live in this broken world.
Wounds happen.
The realization was enough to make me feel hopeless and helpless.

But then God used Brian to show me the hope. He said, "We can't protect our children from the wounds, but we can train them to defeat the lies."
Ahhhh. Truth.
And hope!

We sat with the kids Monday night and told them about our weekend. We shared some of the stories of our own wounds, and I told them about my desire to keep them from all wounding.
Then Brian went on to explain the reality that wounds happen, and the hope we have in defeating the lies.
We talked about knowing the Truth so we are able to recognize lies when they come. We talked about the battle we have with the enemy of our souls. And we encouraged our children to be alert. Oh, how I pray the Truth will be deeply planted in their hearts and protect them from the lies of the enemy.

Because wounds happen.
But Jesus heals. And with His Truth, we can defeat the lies.

I Dreamed a Dream

Brian and I spent last weekend at a marriage retreat in northern Michigan.

It was amazing.
If you live in Michigan and you're married, you really need to go. I believe they're having another retreat in March. Check out this website for details/contact information.
And don't wait long because space is limited.
You're welcome.

So, back to this past weekend. We spent some time thinking about/remembering the dreams we had when we were kids, regarding marriage and relationships. And over the course of two days, good time alone with God, and several conversations with my husband I realized just how much I dreamed of being pursued. Cherished. Wanted. Delighted in. But I was only able to "dream" about that as a teen. Because my real-life relationships (as opposed to those in my dream world) were all sabotaged by my stupid decisions. *Read that: When I gave in and became sexually active, I believed my boyfriends only wanted me for that reason.
And since I wanted to be wanted for me, I always broke up with them.
But I kept on dreaming that someone would cherish me.

As the weekend progressed, God unveiled another problem with my dream. That is, I feared people wouldn't love me if they knew about the unacceptable things I'd done. It surprised me to recall how many times I'd lied - even as a little girl about things like wetting the bed - because I didn't want people to know the truth. I didn't want to appear less desirable.
I wanted to be wanted.
And I began to understand my desire today to do things "perfectly" had grown from my belief that I could not/would not be cherished if I didn't do everything right.
Then Jesus stepped in and reminded me of the Truth:

HE knows everything about me.
Every.single.thing.
The good, the bad, AND the ugly.
And HE cherishes me.

Jesus knows all my imperfections. He saw me every night when I wet my bed. He knows about each time I gave myself to one of those guys. Jesus saw me each time I lost my temper and yelled at my children. He is completely aware of everything about which I feel shame.
And still, HE cherishes me. HE delights in me. Jesus loves me!

Know what else?
None of the things which have brought me shame are news to Brian. He knows about all of them, too. And as we processed these memories together this weekend, my husband reminded me again that he cherishes me. He delights in me. He loves me.
And the sex? Well, yeah. He loves that, too! *wink*

Living my dream,

Mother/Son Bonding

My aspiring angler (For those of you who don't know, a real fisherman is known as an "angler".) has been wanting to catch salmon for such a long time. And two weekends ago, he did it! He spent several hours at the creek near our church and caught himself a few nice salmon. (Gave one away to another angler who just wanted to get one and go...)
The two he kept were full of eggs.
Josh was thrilled. Because now he could make real fishing bait for next year's salmon runs. (Apparently, salmon like to eat salmon eggs - so they make great bait. I'm trying to get over the cannibalistic image that produces in my mind. *ewww*) So, with a bowl FULL of salmon eggs, Josh did his research and we bought the necessary items to create next year's bait. (Unscented Borax, and red tulle - in case you're wondering.)
When Josh had the eggs prepared he sat down to wrap and tie individual packages, which he is certain will land him some amazing catches on future fishing expeditions. But after a short while, he realized the process was a lot more tedious than originally anticipated.
And he was looking for help.

So, I did what any other clueless-to-the-task mother would have done.
I sat down to help.
And during my brief orientation to spawn-sac-tying I learned that I needed to reach into the bag of eggs with my bare hands and retrieve 5-7 eggs. Step two was to place the eggs on the tulle, gather the corners together to form a sac and carefully twist it closed. Then I had to wrap a piece of thread around the top of the sac and wind it around tightly 8 or 9 times. All the while taking caution not to squeeze too tightly, lest I pop one of the eggs and get orange-ish slimy stuff all over my hand. By the way, I needed to "cut" the thread by pulling it - not with scissors - thereby assuring a tight closure on the sac.
And, by the way, sometimes breaking the thread by pulling it caused enough pressure to break an egg - and I often ended up with slimy stuff on my hands.

So, I sat at the table next to Josh tying spawn sacs for fishing bait and I wondered what benefit there was to this activity. Besides the obvious fish bait, of course.
Our conversation hardly existed of more than, "Make sure you're closing the sac tightly," "Try not to leave such long thread tags," "Can you make some smaller sacs now?" and "Shoot! I broke another egg!" It seemed to me I ought to be taking advantage of this one-on-one time to have some kind of deep talk with my son.
But just about the same moment I was having that thought, Josh said, "You know, not many moms would make these spawn sacs with their son. It's mother/son bonding time!"
And we smiled at each other.
In that moment, I realized Josh was happy simply to have me next to him - doing something he enjoyed. My presence and participation spoke love to him louder than any words I could have said. And, maybe, next year each time he goes fishing and uses one of those spawn sacs - he'll remember our evening together tying them up, and he'll smile at the recollection of how much his mom loves him.

How can you speak love with your actions today?

We Don't Need to be Afraid

Lessons From the Edge

Some words don't mean what you think they mean. Er, they didn't used to.

Or - Old people like to share their knowledge.

I was taking J to his apartment this week (He's in a wheel chair right now and needs to be escorted everywhere.) when we got into an interesting conversation. (Read that: J started talking to me about things he finds interesting. *wink*) He began asking me if I knew what a certain phrase meant. Since I had never heard it before, I had no idea of it's meaning.
J was delighted to go into a full explanation.
And then he gave me an assignment. He asked me, "Do you know what 'manufacture' means? How about 'sinister'?" Feeling confident about my vocabulary, I told J I did - in fact - know the meaning of those two words. But he challenged me with their original meanings. Did I know those??? Based upon J's amazing knowledge of the previously mentioned phrase, I figured he must know more than me, so I claimed ignorance. And that's when I received my assignment.
"Get a dictionary," he said, "and look up those words. You'll be surprised at what they originally meant."

So I did. I dusted off our dictionary at home and looked up 'manufacture' and 'sinister'.
And I found nothing of much interest. Certainly nothing which surprised me! Which is when I decided to get serious about my research.
Yeah.
That's right.
I turned to Google!
And that's where I discovered a little more knowledge about the word 'sinister'. While today it means something along the lines of 'evil' or 'threatening', it's original meaning in its Latin form is "left-handed". Apparently, in some cultures the left side (and therefore, left-handedness) was deemed negative, so if you were left-handed you were considered evil. And over time, the term meaning left-handed came to mean evil. (Thanks for the concise insight, Wikipedia!)

I couldn't find anything about 'manufacture' which seemed out of the ordinary, so I guess I'll have to ask J about that when I give him my 'sinister' report.
(Which is much different than a 'sinister report'. *wink*)
And I trust he'll give me some education, because it seems old people like to share their knowledge.

If you know the secret meaning, do tell me about it in the comments - so I can impress J the next time I talk to him!

Thank You, Mommy

Thank you, Mommy

That was the text I got back, and picturing my little girl almost-adult-daughter typing it out nearly made me cry.

I've written here often about Elizabeth and her rats, so I trust you are well aware of these pets. We've had lots of laughs with those critters, but not every story is a happy one.
Like today's episode.
Elizabeth "adopted" Nibbles about 10 months ago from a friend who just didn't want to take care of his rat anymore. And because her heart is so kind, Elizabeth loved Nibbles well.
I suppose it is also because her heart is so kind that Elizabeth began aching for Nibbles a few weeks ago when she seemed to be quite sick. Elizabeth was concerned about the noises she was making, and noticed changes in her physique and behavior. She was convinced Nibbles was dying. And suffering in the process.
Now, I may not be a rocket scientist, but one look at Nibbles led me to the same conclusion. And so we began our research on how to humanely put Nibbles out of her misery.

Every day which passed had Elizabeth a little more sad for her dear Nibbles. But finally the plans were in place and as Elizabeth was walking out the door to go to a bonfire at school she said, "You'll take care of Nibbles while I'm gone, right?"
She didn't want to be here when it happened.
So that evening, Brian and I put Nibbles to rest and when it was finished I texted Elizabeth saying, "Nibbles is no longer suffering. Her body is in a white box on the counter. Didn't know if you wanted to see her..."
A few minutes later I got the "Thank you, Mommy" response. And I wanted to drive up to the school to hug my girl.

It's weird that "killing" my daughter's pet made me feel such a close connection to her, but somehow - it did.
A rat doesn't have an eternal soul. It's just a short-haired rodent, for crying out loud! But Nibbles was so much more than that to Elizabeth and I could see her sweet heart breaking. So I did for my girl what she couldn't do - the thing she knew needed to happen, but simply didn't have the strength to do.
And as I've thought about it more I have realized that won't be the last time I do for her something she cannot do. (And, actually, it isn't the first.) Because that's what we moms do.
It might be praying for our children when they are facing trials; it might be caring for a sick baby; it might be comforting one who has just had a nightmare; it might be giving a pep talk to a nervous kid before their first oral book report; it might be calming the fears of a college freshman who's leaving home for the first time (while we try to hide our own tears); or it might be euthanizing a sick pet rat.
Whatever "it" is, each of us moms have been given a precious opportunity to care, to love, to nurture, and to encourage. May God give us the grace to recognize and embrace these moments.

Mrs. Proverbs 31, a la 2013

Last week I spoke for the MOPS group at my home church. We talked about the Proverbs 31 woman, and our battle with perfection. (And we talked about the fact that Mrs. Proverbs 31 wasn't really "perfect" after all.)
In the midst of my talk I shared the image I have conjured up in my mind of what Mrs. P31 would look like today. And there was such a positive response (read that: lots of laughter) from the ladies, I thought I'd share it with you, too.
Soooooo, I present to you a window to my insecurities *wink* via my rendition of a modern-day Proverbs 31 woman.

Enjoy!

She gets up while it is still dark and has her devotion and prayer time before she prepares a hot breakfast for her family. Every day. And she never complains of being tired.
She home schools her children, and will do so through college.
And if she doesn’t home school, she is a room mother for each of her children, she is president of the PTA, she is the den mother for her cub scout, and also leads her daughter’s after-school craft club.
She runs a successful business from her home and loves every minute of her work. She knows how to manage her time perfectly so she is able to care for her family while also providing discretionary income so they can go out and have fun adventures together.
And while they are on those fun adventures she takes lots of pictures which she diligently assembles into scrapbooks that would make any Creative Memories consultant jealous.
In fact, she is so crafty, so creative, and so skilled, everything she does makes Pinterest look like child’s play.
She has a hot and delicious meal on the table when her husband gets home from work. The house is always picked up, and she greets him at the door with a kiss - having just brushed her teeth and hair, and put on lipstick before he walked in. She supports her husband in all his ventures and is never too tired for, uh, intimacy. So he is a very happy man.
She does not struggle with things like irritability, impatience, anxiety, or depression. Her faith is so strong, not even PMS can touch her joyful spirit.
She always knows the right things to say, and has time to make meals for friends in need. She remembers birthdays and anniversaries. She regularly sends cards just to say she cares, and makes bouquets from the flowers in her garden to brighten her neighbor’s day.
And in the midst of it all, she also finds time to work out every day. Her muscles are toned and her belly is firm.
She is the delight of everyone who knows her.

Beauty and the Beau: Homecoming Edition

Oh, these two kids are so stinkin' cute! I love watching them together, and observing the special things they like doing for one another.
Like this: Nick called Elizabeth on the phone one day, had her turn on the computer, and guided her to this video.

Well, obviously she agreed!
And I had a house full of kids that night - eating dinner and getting ready for the dance.

Of course, all the kids were great. But these two were my favorite!

I'm Back!

Taking My Own Medicine

Have I mentioned before how precious my daughter is?
She loves God with her whole heart and wants to do all things to please Him. She gives her best to everything she does. And she has a hard time saying "No" to good things/opportunities to serve. I've no idea from whom she gained that tendency. *ahem!*
The thing is, when you couple all that with a young lady who strives for all A's in school, who has a big test coming up, who needs to be working on college applications, and who is trying to maintain a long-distance relationship with her Beau, you end up with a stressed out little lady.

I have often talked with Elizabeth about the need to discern which things are necessary, and which can be put off or forgotten all together. We've discussed the fact that such discernment is a valuable skill to develop in life. It can keep a person from going completely crazy!
So the other night when she was asking for input on whether she should babysit for someone for three hours Saturday (She could use the money. It would help the people who need a sitter. She loves the little girls. It was "only" three hours. BUT It would be another thing on her "to do" list. She could utilize that three hours doing homework or studying for her test or filling out college aps... And, it would really be more like 3 1/2 - 4 hours by the time she figured in travel time and preparation.) I was about to tell her what I thought would be best for her to do. But I caught myself and instead asked her a question.

"What would make you feel less stressed?"

Because I knew babysitting was one of those things which didn't fit into the "necessity" category, and I wanted to help her find the freedom to choose what would be best for her.
**********************************************************************
So, why am I telling you this story? Because I realized I needed to take my own medicine.
As I am faced with a lot of things to do (No college aps for me, thank you!) and my time is limited, I realize that taking a brief blog break will make me feel less stressed.
This blog is a good thing.
I love writing.
And I love knowing that God uses some of the things I say to encourage and inspire you!
BUT, I realize it doesn't fit into the "necessity" category, and right now it would be best for me (and my family!) if I step back for a bit.
Not sure how much time I'll need, but if God says the same, I'll be back!

Lessons From the Edge

It just takes time.

I've seen it before in various residents. For one reason or another they are not happy about moving into Edgewood, and they're convinced it will never be "home" to them. Some people almost seem to be fighting against the idea of learning to like living there.
But in nearly every case, after some time, the individuals come to love that place. And it absolutely feels like home to them.

We have another new resident at Edgewood. She moved in about three weeks ago. And I love her very much. She's my grandmother!
And earlier this week she confided in me that she "feels like a misfit".
Oh, those words broke my heart! We have so many wonderful ladies at Edgewood, and several of them have told me how much they like my grandmother. They tell me she's a lovely lady and they're so glad she's moved in. But Grandma says she feels like a misfit?

I understand. Grandma misses the ladies with whom she used to play Bridge. (We've tried unsuccessfully to get Bridge going at Edgewood.) She wants someone to play cards with her, and she wants someone to read and discuss books with her. In her three short weeks, she hasn't found those people. And she's discouraged.
But she came to the Activity Room this week to play Wheel of Fortune on the Wii with a few other residents, and she had a good time. Her birthday is coming up Monday (She's going to be 96!) and one of the women Grandma eats with in the dining room bought her a beautiful card, and she's going to have the other ladies at their table sign it for her. I know that will delight her heart!
These things, and the fact that she isn't a quitter, give me confidence it won't be long before Grandma is no longer feeling like a misfit. Soon, Edgewood will feel like home and the residents will be her second family.

It just takes time.

Is there a struggle in your life about which you need to remember this lesson?

Her Favorite Word

Elizabeth has Expository Writing this semester, and her first assignment was to write an essay about her favorite word. As soon as I read it, I knew I had to share her essay with you here.
So, go ahead and read.
And, um, I dare you not to cry!

Daddy. What a spectacular word! You can say it in whatever tone you want, and it still sounds right. You can say it in a deep, comical voice. Or you can say it in a high pitched, excited voice. You can whisper it or scream it. You can state it or sing it, bellow it or burp it. You can say it when you’re crying or when you’re laughing, and it will always sound meaningful and reassuring.

Chirp it at the dinner table, and you get a listening ear, ready and interested to hear you tell about your day. Cry it out at night when you are scared, and suddenly there are sheltering arms around you.

It is a word full of love and hope and butterfly kisses. It is tenderness and protection and friendship. It is wisdom, it is insight, and it is comforter.

It brings on memories of that night once a year, where he would take his princess out on a date, and they would dance together. It brings memories of chaotic shrieks and laughter in the middle of a game of tickle wrestle. Or that time when he taught his little girl to ride a bike. Memories of long car rides with deep conversations, and trips to the ice cream shop.

When you are sad, “daddy” is the go-to word. When you are happy, it’s all you want to say! One thing is for sure: My daddy has made a great impact in my life in order to make this word so special to me.

Dear God

Dear God,
Do you remember when Elizabeth was born, and I was getting ready to leave the hospital? And I wondered who these crazy people were who thought it was OK to send a BABY home with me? After all, what did I know about being a mother???
Do you remember the tears I cried as we struggled to figure out how to nurse?
What about the sleepless nights when I wanted to call it quits? Do you remember those?
Oh, and how about when Joshua was born? Remember the frustration I had in learning how to change his diapers? Boys are so different! It was laughable in the hospital, but it got old pretty quickly. You saw those tears, too, didn't you?
Then Matthew came along. Remember how I struggled to be a mommy to THREE children? Oh, the trouble I had keeping two occupied while I cared for the third!
Those days were really hard, LORD.
As the children grew, the challenges grew, too. Do you remember that? Do you remember how we struggled through potty training, setting boundaries, and adjusting to school and homework? Remember that day when I sat outside the kitchen door and actually questioned Your wisdom in giving me children?
I imagine you overheard me thinking about how I'm so jealous of You. You have perfect wisdom and You always know the right thing to do; the right amount of and approach to discipline. You always know how things are going to turn out, so You never second-guess the way You are shaping Your children. And You do everything with love. Perfect love. Oh, how I wish I could be a mother like you are a Father!
God, I know You remember all these things. You have been watching over me and my children all this time. And You have been faithful. Those angry outbursts from Joshua, which I thought were going to do me in? They don't happen anymore. The bickering over toys and clean-up time? You've brought us past it. Even the endless battles over bath nights are behind us. I've been a mommy for over seventeen years now, and I am so, so very thankful for Your faithfulness through it all.

But, God? I'm still struggling.

The challenges are new, and I still feel like I don't know what I'm doing. We have to chose a college for Elizabeth. Joshua's teen-age angst is too much for me most days. I desperately want to understand Matthew's heart but I don't know how to get there. My babies aren't babies anymore, God, but mothering is still hard!

You knew this would happen, didn't You? And You know how it's all going to be resolved.
Father, thank You for Your faithfulness over the past seventeen years. And thank You that I can have confidence in Your continued faithfulness for the rest of our days.

Love,

We Better Do It Next Year

As we were driving away from Cedar Campus at the end of our vacation, I had a sad realization.

Brian asked if everyone had a fun time, and if we all wanted to come back again. Of course the response was a resounding YES!
Then he asked if we should come back next summer, or the one after that. I thought for a moment and realized, We better do it next year. Because "the one after that" will be the summer after Elizabeth's first year of college. And maybe she won't be coming home for the summer. Maybe she'll be a camp counselor, or maybe she'll stay on campus for a summer job, or maybe...who knows what she'll be doing?

Once I went to college, I never moved back home to stay. All my college summers were spent away, then I graduated and got married. The summer after my senior year in high school was the last time I lived at "home", and I realized the same thing might be true of my baby girl.

So, we better take that vacation next year.

I'm Here Now

Today I'm at Britta's

Several years ago during my first-ever read-thru-the-Bible, I was struck by Leviticus 26 and how I could see a parallel for motherhood in it. So I wrote my own version of that chapter.
A few weeks ago I wrote about Leviticus here and a friend commented about having studied the book. Since she's also a mom I sent her a copy of my Leviticus 26 rendition for her enjoyment. Annnnd, she asked if she could re-post it on her blog. I was only too happy to oblige. *grin*

So, today I am inviting you to go visit Britta and enjoy a chuckle as you read Leviticus 26 a la Motherhood.

Beauty and the Beau: Foreshadowing

This picture was taken when Nick was asking Elizabeth to a dance.
He edited it on the computer and added the words when he visited us last month.

Be still, my heart!

How Can You Tire of a Miracle?

The rabble with them began to crave other food, and again the Israelites started wailing and said, "If only we had meat to eat! We remember the fish we ate in Egypt at no cost - also the cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions and garlic. But now we have lost our appetite; we never see anything but this manna!"

Numbers 11:4-6

We never see anything but this manna!
Does that statement cause anyone else to do a double-take?
Or am I the only one?
Back in Exodus 16, manna came on the scene for the very first time. The Israelites had been grumbling because they were hungry. They accused Moses of bringing them out of Egypt and into the desert to starve them to death. But God told Moses, "I will rain down bread from heaven for you." (Ex. 16:4) And that is just what He did. In the morning when the dew was gone, "thin flakes like frost" covered the ground. And they tasted like wafers made with honey. (Read Exodus 16 for all the details.)
And that was it! Every morning - through no effort of their own - the Israelites were provided with bread from heaven. God performed a miracle for them every.single.day. Can you even imagine what that would have been like?
*yawn*
*stretch*
Hmmmm. I wonder what's for breakfast today? Oh, look! God gave us manna again!
Every morning. Another display of God's faithfulness and power in the miracle of manna.

Yet, somehow by the time we make it to Numbers 11, they're tired of it. "We never see anything but this manna!" And I'm left thinking, What? How can you tire of a miracle???
I understand, these men and women were tired. Probably scared. All that walking through the desert likely made them a bit *ahem!* irritable. But part of me wants to grab their shoulders, look them in the eyes, and plead with them, "C'mon, folks! This is God we're talking about. This manna He's providing is a miracle. Do you hear me? A miracle! You wake up every morning and - Bam! - there it is. How could you possibly be tired of this?"
Standing on the outside looking in, I could see the wonder of what HE had done. In my heart I just wanted the Israelites to embrace the miracle, and honor God for His power and faithfulness.

Just as I came to that realization, God met me with another one: Sometimes I'm just like them!

Fellow mom, are you ready for this?
Motherhood is a miracle.
Our children are miracles.
They're gifts!
Yet, there are moments, days, weeks even - when I am so tired of motherhood. Sometimes I want to legally change my name so I no longer feel compelled to respond whenever someone wails, "Mmmoooooooommm!" There, in the midst of the trial, my view is clouded and I neglect to see my children as the miracles they are. Do you know what I'm talking about?
That's why on the day I was reading about the Israelites despising manna, I felt like God was opening my eyes. In the same way I wanted to plead with the Israelites, I believed God wanted to plead with me. Karen, I understand you get tired. I know motherhood can be scary when you can't see what's around the corner. And you get irritable when you have to go through the same thing over and over again. But I want you to remember, dear one, these children are miracles. Do you recall at their birth when you would marvel at their little toes and eye lashes, and wonder at how I could do such an amazing thing? They've grown bigger, but they're still miraculous. Darling, when you're tired of motherhood, please pause for a moment and remember the miracle.

May these words speak to your heart as they spoke to mine!

Swimming Without Suits

Some would call it *almost* skinny dipping.

Others would call it crazy.

We called it family bonding.

Last week on vacation, we hiked to Narnia. Narnia is a very cool place at Inter Varsity's Cedar Campus with great big rocks dotting the water, and a wooded area where the trees are actually growing over the rocks. It took us about 45 minutes to get there and, by the time we arrived, we were quite warm. **Read that: It was hot, and we were sweaty.
We sat down our picnic lunches and began jumping from rock to rock. (A no-no according to Cedar Campus policy, but how could we resist?) And before we knew it, Josh had thrown off his shirt, jumped into the water, and was swimming to a rock farther out in the lake. Matthew was intrigued by his brother's method of cooling off and exploring rocks, so he threw off his shirt and shorts and jumped into the water in his boxers. And Brian followed suit.
Which left Elizabeth and I sitting on a big rock contemplating how we could go swimming.

After going through various options, and looking to Brian for moral support ("It'll be family bonding," he said.), it became an issue of I-will-if-you-will.
And, we did.
Elizabeth and I threw off our shirts and shorts and jumped in the water, too.
We all swam from rock to rock, fully enjoying the adventure. At times with our teeth chattering, and at times laughing so much we forgot how cold the water was. Certainly not thinking about how hot and sweaty we were just moments before.
There came a time when Brian and I had to take turns helping a very cold and tired Matthew swim back to the mainland, and for a moment I wondered if this escapade had been such a good idea after all. But - once we were all safely back, and beginning to warm up again - I can honestly say, I was so glad we'd done it.
Even more so, I was so glad I had participated. My nature tends to be one of playing-by-the-rules and doing-what's-safe-and-comfortable. Stripping down to almost-nothing and jumping off big rocks into cold water simply isn't "normal" for me. It would be much more likely for me to caution my family about doing something so crazy, and then to sit safely on the perch of a dry rock while I watch the rest of them have fun together.
But this time, I joined in.
It was cold, almost risque, and ever-so-slightly dangerous.

And it was totally worth it for the family bonding!