Wait For It!

So, I have this problem issue quirk thing I do. My eyes have a tendency to wander in books. That is, when I'm reading a novel I often "accidentally" read the bottom of the page before I've finished reading the top. And when I'm reading my Bible, my eyes seem drawn to portions which I've underlined previously - instead of staying with the plan. So, to keep myself focused on one thing at a time I usually cover the unread portion of a page with my hand.
Gets awkward when I'm laying on my back holding a book in the air, covering the right page with my right hand and trying to only reveal one line at a time on the left page with my other hand. I *might* have dropped a book, or two, on my face at such times. *ahem*

Anyway, I was experiencing this dilemma on Monday during my quiet time. I was reading 1 Samuel 10-12 and as I turned the page at verse 5 of chapter 12 I saw something underlined at the end of the chapter. And can I tell you? Even though I immediately covered up the underlined portion with my hand, in my head I was having such a hard time staying focused on what I was reading. I just wanted to know, What treasure is waiting for me at the end of this chapter? Then I'd tell myself, Stick with where you're at. Pay attention to what you're reading now.
And back and forth I went.
Until I finally made it to verse 24.

But be sure to fear the LORD and serve him faithfully with all your heart; consider what great things he has done for you.

~1 Samuel 12:24

With my curiosity satisfied and my heart inspired, I recounted the great things HE has done for me.
*HE saved me at age 18 and has been patiently growing me ever since.
*HE has given me a wonderful husband and children. And has made the hard times with them wonderful by using them for good.
*HE has provided faithfully for our needs. Even when it seemed impossible to me.
*HE has healed wounds I never thought would have been treatable.
*HE continues to show me my broken places and makes me believe HE will make them whole again.
*HE has brought peace to my anxious soul.

Ahhhh, it was so worth the wait to get to those words. And the time of reflection.
May I encourage you today to take some time to consider what great things HE has done for you?

I Have Failed

OK, so I admit, I have never been a big stickler for table manners.

I mean, I know the "rules." I know how to properly set a table, and have taught been trying to teach my kids to do the same. (They think it's ridiculous. Why does it matter? Who cares, anyway???)
But I'm not a manner-nazi.
For instance, I don't put my napkin on my lap unless I'm at a nice restaurant. Even then, half the time I only do it because I see someone else do it and I think, Oh, yeah! Table manners would be good here.
I didn't know there is such a thing as a "wet side" and "dry side" of a table. And I had no idea it is acceptable to eat asparagus spears with your fingers.
But, once my kids were past their toddler years I required them to use utensils. I get after a certain son of mine about his habit of stabbing an entire piece of meat with his fork, rather than cutting it into bite-sized pieces. And I at least roll my eyes - if not chastise the culprit - when someone belches at the table.

However, since Grandma has joined us I have felt the need to step up our manners training. I mean, Grandma always puts her napkin on her lap. She never takes a bite of food until all have been served, and I have picked up my fork. And, heaven forbid she would ever put her elbows on the table.
At times I have simply pointed out her behavior, and asked the boys if they noticed. Or if they had any idea she was demonstrating a particular manner. You know, a feeble attempt at training. Other times I have asked them to remove their elbows from the table, or reminded them to take smaller bites. (I appreciate that they enjoy my cooking. But I'd like them to savor it a little. *ahem*)

But last weekend I felt like all my attempts have been futile.

Matthew My son asked if we needed forks when he was setting the table. At that moment, he only knew we were having bean burritos - which I allow to be picked up and eaten. But we were also having corn. So I told him, "Yes," we needed forks. And he chuckled because he often eats his corn with his fingers, too. (In spite of my wishes. *ahem*) I just gave him the look and went about getting dinner on the table.
As dinner progressed, I noticed said child picking up corn kernels with his fingers and popping them into his mouth. I immediately reminded him of the fork sitting to the left of his plate (Because that's where the fork should be placed.) and he reluctantly began using it. He also began his typical diatribe about the pointlessness of manners. Including a call to not conform to society. *insert eye roll*
Moments later - while the discussion of table manners was still taking place - I asked him to use his fork and knife with his burrito, instead of ripping it apart into tiny pieces with his fingers.
His response? "But if I take bigger pieces, I won't be able to talk while I'm eating!"

I looked at Brian and mouthed, "I have failed."

I Don't Understand

This Week With Grandma

I remember when my children were young - being encouraged to "enjoy every moment" because "it goes so fast."

And there were those who consoled me upon kindergarten graduation, because my babies weren't "babies" anymore.

The elementary years required lots of hand-holding (literal and figurative) as my children learned to take steps on their own; eager to grow up, but not quite ready to go it alone yet.

In junior high hormones were starting to rage and I was reminded of the need to guide my young 'uns through more changes. Though sometimes from a distance.

High school has brought more independence and often more distance. I can see my children becoming young adults, and feel them needing me less and less. Still, there are times when they come to dear old mom and dad for help, or advice, or just to share some good news.

Even our college girl - all grown-up-like and sprouting wings - has sought us out for godly counsel, and help with heavy heart-things. Though she is making her own way in this world, getting closer and closer to leaving the nest, she's still our girl.
And I'm cool with that!

The thing is, with all the talk from folks about the urgency to "enjoy them now" - and the implied warning that a day will come when we won't be able to enjoy them anymore - I've often thought this growing-up thing was to be feared. But this week with Grandma has convinced me I'm not going to stop being a mom when my kids move out of the house.
My aunt (Grandma's daughter) returned Wednesday from a trip she had taken overseas. Every day while she's been on this trip I have listened to Grandma talk about where she was and what she was doing. (Grandma had her itinerary, and was following it closely.) I've been updated on how the trip was going each time an email arrived in Grandma's inbox from my aunt. (Yes, my almost-98-year-old grandmother has a computer and uses email.) Tuesday night/Wednesday morning Grandma was watching the clock and monitoring flight statuses, saying things like, "Sue is probably on the way to the airport," or, "She must be in the air by now." And the two of them had a lengthy phone conversation Wednesday night to catch up with each other.
Grandma is almost 98. My aunt turned 73 on Tuesday. And, clearly, Grandma has not stopped being a mom. She is still enjoying her daughter.

What I'm saying is: my kids can grow up and move out. They can live their own lives.
But as far as it is up to me? I'm going to follow my grandmother's example and keep being mom.
To 98, and beyond!

Watch It, Buddy

Last Friday, a certain son of mine and I were having a conversation about smart phones.
This child wants to upgrade to the world of smart phones, but doesn't want to pay the difference. He was making a list of all the reasons he should have this device - some of which were starting to sound reasonable to me - but then he made a fatal mistake. He said, "Besides, 95% of the people in the world have smart phones now. And the other 5% are old ladies."
I am among the 5% with a basic phone (Not sure that's the real number. My son likes to pull percentages out of the air when he's trying to make a point.) so I chuckled and said, "Watch it, buddy."
He just huffed and said, "What?!"
And I asked, "Are you calling me an old lady?"
Let's just say, his response did not win him any points with me. *wink*

Whew! That Was Fast!

So, Sunday after I dropped Elizabeth off at camp, I had a two-hour car ride alone with my thoughts.

A significant amount of that time involved thoughts (which I believe were prompted by the Holy Spirit) regarding my character. In my mind I was reviewing some of my behaviors and motives, the things that make me tick, and trying to understand the underlying drive behind it all. It was just me, my thoughts, and God in the van - so I got real honest.
*read that: the Holy Spirit got all up in my business busy convicting*
In the deepest part of me, I just want to be a reflection of Jesus. I want to live a life pleasing to God, which brings Him glory and furthers His kingdom. But, alone there with my thoughts and the Holy Spirit, I realized that I am too often motivated by what people say or think about me. I admitted to myself - and confessed to God - my bent toward people-pleasing, and seeking the praises of man.
And it hurt.
The awareness of my sin - of falling short of God's standard - actually hurt my heart because it had me so conflicted. I mean, I really, really want to honor God. I do! But in my moment of honesty I had to admit that those nice things I hear people say about me really feel good. They motivate me to keep doing good things. So I'll hear more nice things about myself. And I'll feel good again.
For my glory.
And when I saw my sin so clearly, I was anguished. I began thinking about the sermon I'd just heard and realized I was living out the main point which had been presented. That is, the reality that there is a battle taking place in every believer. A battle between what our spirit desires and what our flesh will do.
Before I knew what was happening, I found myself asking God to change my heart. In fact, I believe my exact words were, LORD, please re-make my heart to be like Yours. Yes, break it and re-make it.
I paused for a moment to take in what I'd just requested.
Did I really want God to break my heart?
I decided to trust God to do what was best and returned to my prayer, believing God would do a good thing in His time.

*Fast forward about twenty minutes, to my arrival home.*

When I entered the house I was greeted with cold words - which burned. The words sent me into a tailspin of self-doubt and condemnation, even as I tried to reason them away by telling myself the speaker of the words surely didn't intend to wound me. I felt like I was slipping into an uncontrollable crying spell, and I did NOT want to go there. I begged God to help me, to give me strength, to calm my heart - to do all the things I could not do on my own. I was a mess and despite all my deep-breathing attempts, I could not contain myself.
For the next hour I drifted between my bedroom and the kitchen - preparing dinner amid crying spells, wads of tissue, and prayers of desperation.
And it became blatantly clear to me that God was answering the cry of my heart. Because I was broken.
B-R-O-K-E-N. Broken.
I found myself in a place where I was completely out of control, anxiously hoping for relief, knowing it wouldn't come as a result of anything I could do. I was - in that very moment - convicted of the fact that I cannot do anything apart from HIM. And as I fell further and further into despair, HE tenderly caught me and gave me a new place to stand.

In retrospect, I understand that the cold words which greeted me Sunday evening were part of a misunderstanding and lack of communication. A simple request and some follow-up conversation would likely have prevented the entire scene. But I believe God allowed it all to happen so I would be taken to that place of brokenness - where HE could speak Truth to my soul, and shape my heart. That is, after all, what I asked Him to do.
I just didn't anticipate such a quick response!
*wink*

Looks Like Her Dream is Coming True

I took Elizabeth to Cran-Hill Ranch on Sunday.

She's going to be a camp counselor there this summer and has two weeks of orientation before the first group of campers arrive. I was a counselor at Cran-Hill in 1991 and 1992, and am so stinkin' excited for my daughter. For the fun she'll have, the lives she'll touch, and the ways she is going to experience God.
It is going to be a summer like none she has ever had before. And I am thrilled for her.
I really am.
But I'm also a little sad.
See, for the past nine years I have taken Elizabeth to Cran-Hill - for a week of summer camp. And, always, at the end of the week I have picked her up and listened to story after story of the adventures she had at the Ranch. But Sunday when we checked in at the office I said to Mal (the camp director), "I'm giving her to you for a whole summer this time. Take good care of her."
Then we hugged and I prayed for her and we said our good-byes. And I got in the van to come home. Excited for the summer ahead of her, but saddened by the reality that she won't be home again until August 17. And will be going back to college on the 24th.
Elizabeth already has plans to spend next summer studying in another state, and the following summer she hopes to do an internship somewhere else. If all goes as planned, she'll be graduated and "on her own" the summer after that. Who knows if we'll even have the pleasure of her company for a total of four weeks in the next two summers, like we are this year?

All through her growing up years, Elizabeth spoke of a desire to have wings. She always thought it would be so wonderful to be able to fly wherever she wanted to go. If only she could grow a pair of wings.
The strange thing is, when I looked at Elizabeth walking away as I left camp on Sunday, I think I saw wings sprouting from her back.

Don't Forget to Remember

This Week with Grandma

Don't suppress your feelings just because someone else doesn't like them.

Share what's on your mind, even if it isn't popular.

Look out for the underdog. You might be the only one caring for them.

Give love. Even when you aren't loved back.

These are the things I learned from Grandma this week.
We sat for a long while at the table after lunch and Grandma poured out her heart. She talked about life and family, good memories and hard ones, joys and regrets. Occasionally she would say something like, "Maybe I'm talking too much," but I think we both know that wasn't true.
What a gift it was for me to be able to re-live some of those moments with her, to see into her heart, and to learn from her experiences. And I think it was good for Grandma, too, to be able to visit those memories once again.
I know the reality of our lives is that we're often too busy to spend an hour or more at the table. But what a beautiful thing it is to sit and talk. Better yet, to just sit and listen.
I wonder...
What would happen if we chose to set aside other things so we had time to sit with each other?

Need Help?

So, one of my children had a, uh, fender bender recently. No one was hurt, and no damage came to the vehicles. But there was a ticket issued.
Which had an associated fine.
Which has been paid.
We thought the situation was over. Until a notice came in the mail stating the correct amount for the fine, including a little line labeled, "balance due." The child has seen the notice - he's the one who opened it - and, yet, it sits on the kitchen counter waiting to be paid.
More than once I have asked the aforementioned child when he is going to take care of the aforementioned fine. Each time the child has made a non-committal response about taking care of it sometime. And each time, I have thought about how easy it would be for me to just do it - but known that to do so would not be doing the child any favors. He needs to take responsibility. I know that!
I had to help him with the initial fine because it required a cashier's check and he didn't know how to obtain one. So, we went to the bank together and got it. The thing is, I would be happy to help him get whatever he needs to have for the balance, but he hasn't asked.
And I'm not just going to do it for him.
If he wants my help, he needs to ask me for it.

Well, the other day I was looking at the notice sitting on the kitchen counter and pondering my child's inactivity - when I realized God was drawing me a picture of how our relationship sometimes plays out.
*I serve a God who can do anything. Any.Thing!
*I serve a God who knows what is best for me, who knows everything I need, and who can make it happen.
*I serve a God who knows how incapable I am to handle most of what life gives me.
*I serve a God who would gladly help me with it all.
I imagine He sits in heaven looking at me, and saying something like, Karen, when are you going to have that talk? Have you decided how you're going to handle that circumstance? That other situation still needs your attention. Have you figured out what you're going to do yet? You haven't forgotten, have you, that I am here and would love to help you with each of these things? I'm right here! All you need to do is ask.
It's silly, really. I can get so overwhelmed by the things I need to do, all the duties vying for my attention, that I just want to quit. Like a certain child of mine, sometimes I become inactive because I don't know what to do. And all that time God is watching me, waiting for me to ask for help.
If I would only ask - He would be there in a heartbeat to show me the way.

If I would only ask.

Is there something with which you could be asking God to help you?

More Than Words

When Moses finished reciting all these words to all Israel, he said to them, “Take to heart all the words I have solemnly declared to you this day, so that you may command your children to obey carefully all the words of this law. They are not just idle words for you—they are your life. By them you will live long in the land you are crossing the Jordan to possess.”

Deuteronomy 32:45-47

They are not just idle words for you—they are your life.

They are your life.

Is the Holy Spirit speaking as loudly to you through those words as He is to me?
I read this statement in Deuteronomy a week ago and it has been staying with me every day since.
And because I have been reading this journey Moses took with the Israelites since the end of March, I have become well acquainted with his passion for the Word of God. I have seen him doing (almost) everything "just as the LORD commanded," (There was that one moment when he hit the rock, which ruined his track record... Yet the consequences even made Moses' passion for obedience increase.) and I have found myself rooting him on, willing the Israelites to just trust and obey.
God had been so clear: If His people would follow His commands and obey His word, He would prosper them in the land He was giving them to possess.
It wasn't rocket science.
Obey God, and life would go well.

So as I tagged along with Moses and the Israelites, I was on board with his call that they obey God's word. Fully.
I echoed his charge to them, They are not just idle words for you—they are your life. After all, I had read about and seen the consequences of following (or not!) God's word, and along the way I became convinced of the necessity of knowing it and living it out.
I simply could not agree more with what Moses said.
They are not just idle words for you—they are your life.
But then the Holy Spirit nudged me to ask, "Karen, are you living as if those words are really true?"

Are you???

She Still Makes Me Smile

I've been doing quite a bit of observing over the past three weeks. Noticing the ways my girl is growing and maturing and becoming a beautiful woman of God. And I have just six days left to do it. (She's leaving Sunday for her summer job. Camp counselor. She's going to be so great in the LORD's hands!)
Anyway, with all this watching I've been doing, I have also been doing some remembering. That is, I have reminisced about some of the adorable things she did in her younger days. And I knew that I had blogged about one of them. So, as I prepare to say good-bye to my girl again, I am digging in my archives to share this fun story with you. This story which happened just over eight years ago.

Ever since she could talk, Elizabeth has expressed kindness and compassion with her words. In a journal I'm keeping for her, I often note the sweet things she says and does. Like the time I was feeling low and when I went to bed there was a note on my pillow which she'd written. She told me she loved me, God loved me, and she hoped I was feeling better soon. Elizabeth is such a sweetheart!
When it comes to her brothers, however, she can take on a very different attitude. She doesn't like them to get into her stuff. I understand that desire, and support her in it. It has become her standard, though, that they aren't even allowed to set foot in her room uninvited. I understand that desire, too, and agree the boys shouldn't go into her room when she isn't in there. But sometimes she goes a little overboard. Even when she is in her room, Elizabeth will get totally bent out of shape if one of her brothers enters without her invitation. It is because of Elizabeth's rantings and ravings about her brothers' need to stay out of her room that I got a BIG laugh Saturday, and determined I know her future career.

We were getting ready for Elizabeth's birthday party. She had invited several girlfriends over for the afternoon and we were busy putting up decorations, cutting out pictures, blowing up balloons, and sorting out prizes. Elizabeth was sure she had some stuffed animals in her toybox in her bedroom that would add nicely to the decorations, but we were both quite engrossed in our current duties and were a bit pressed for time.
Previously, we had tried to solicit help from the boys, but since they weren't going to be participating in the party they weren't particularly interested in helping with preparations.
Understandable.
So as I was standing there cutting up pieces of paper, I almost lost a finger when I started laughing at the exchange that took place between my kids. Elizabeth put on her sweetest face. The look itself almost said, "You're the luckiest little boy in the world for what I'm about to offer you!" She then said, "Matthew, how would you like to go rummaging through my room?" He immediately stopped what he was doing (I don't remember what it was. He was probably getting ready to pop a balloon or something.) and looked at her. Just as quickly, Joshua popped out from around the corner and said, "I will!" With that, Elizabeth sent the boys up to her room on a hunt for the animals she was sure were hiding there somewhere.

I stood there marveling at Elizabeth's skill to get these boys to do what she wanted them to do - something they had previously made clear they did not want to do. She didn't ask them again to "help get ready for the party". She gave them permission to rummage through her room. By putting a slightly different spin on the activity, Elizabeth got the boys to help. Besides that, she made it fun for them!
Within minutes they had returned with the animals in question.

I'm telling you, that girl ought to be in sales. I didn't ask her how she thought about her approach, and I don't know how long she'd been working on it. But she came up with it, and it worked.

That's my girl! *smile*

Happy Memorial Day!

This Week with Grandma

Some days are easier than others. Know what I mean?
This week has seen quite a few of those "others" for Grandma. A nasal infection seems to be the culprit - as it interferes with her sleeping ability, and the antibiotic she's taking to clear it up was giving her stomach problems. The combination of those two things left her feeling kinda rotten.
Not a good time.
Grandma's trouble, coupled with my own issues this week, have made for a cloudy atmosphere around my house. But as we sat down for lunch yesterday she held her hand out toward me (Because that's what she always does.), and I took her hand in mine and we bowed our heads to pray. As I always do, I thought about the things for which I could give thanks. I thanked God for Grandma's physical improvement, for her massage therapist who was going to be coming that afternoon, and for...
And for God's faithfulness.
Because His faithfulness is so good, and so complete, and so, well, faithful.

As I prayed those words I noticed a smile spreading across my face, which seemed to also be making its way to my heart. And I remembered part of the lesson from last week's Sunday school class - that it is impossible for us to have both a thankful and discouraged attitude at the same time. I remembered it, and I was proof of it. Because sitting there thanking God and meditating on His faithfulness had completely changed my heart.
Which made me even more thankful.
And put me on an upward spiral.
That's the beautiful thing about God and His faithfulness. When you start thinking about it - thanking God for it - your circumstances become far less important. You remember the ways in which God has carried you through previous trials, He assures you He's still the same today, and you find yourself confident that He's going to see you through whatever it is that's in your face at the moment.

And just like that, the "other" days become less frightening.
Because God is good.
All the time!

Getting Ready to Fight

Prayer has long been an important part of my life.
But even in the past several months, God is calling me deeper and deeper into it.
He is convincing me more of our need to call on HIM and trust in HIM for all things.
Annnnnd, smack dab in the middle of this passion HE is growing in me, here comes War Room. I had the opportunity to see a pre-release screening of this movie a couple of weeks ago and was immediately excited about it. Since seeing the movie I have been more aware of my own prayers, and more confident that God will show HIS power through them.
There was a man who stood at the end of the movie (in the theater where I saw the screening) and shouted, "Who will join me in this battle?" I think everyone stood in response to his (HIS!) call and I am eager to go forward in this movement.

Here's a look at the heart of War Room. Please take a minute to see what has gotten me so enthused.

There has been a call to pray for War Room this coming Friday, May 22. I am full of expectant hope for what God will do in our country and world through the movement which will be started by this movie. And I am going to be praying Friday. Would love for you to join me. You may find specific details here.
See you on the battlefield!

When Angels Come Knocking

Oh, the beauty of God and His gracious ways.

I was struggling fiercely on Sunday with depressive thoughts.
As in, I can't remember the last time I have felt so rotten. I kept "hearing" everything as an attack on who I am. Fighting off the lies with the Truth was physically exhausting me. In my head I knew this was a battle which has already been won. I knew I have the Holy Spirit on my side, and He will empower me with everything I need to overcome these conflicts.
Still, I was feeling low.
And going lower.
Couldn't wait until it was time to go to bed and start on a new day.
But Monday morning I woke up ready to go back to bed. Soooo tired. Monday never waits for me, though, so I got up and began my day. I was thankful for a fresh start, trusting in God's mercies which are new every morning, and hopeful it would be a better day. Yet, the cloud from Sunday seemed to still be hanging over my head.
Until...

An angel came knocking.
I was sitting at the table avoiding the laundry which needed folding catching up on Facebook (Yeah. That's it!) when there was a knock at my door. And in walked a friend. Her sweet spirit lit up the entire room when she entered. (It's a big "open" room. That's how bright her presence was. *smile*) She was just stopping by quick to bring me a couple things she had for me, and before she left she said, "Prayer?" I looked in her kind eyes, and I knew her offer was real. So I told her about Sunday. She put her hands on my shoulders and took me to the Throne where she asked my Father to lift me up.
And I realized He already was. God had been lifting me up from the moment my friend walked through my door. He knew what I needed, and He made it happen.

Before they call I will answer; while they are still speaking I will hear.

Isaiah 65:24

Oh, the beauty of God and His gracious ways!

When God Speaks Through Your Own Words

This past weekend I spoke for a women's retreat.
Since I didn't have time to record a video devotion before the retreat, I decided to have a friend capture a moment from one of my sessions to post for you. At this point, we were talking about Exodus 6:6-9, when God was speaking very encouraging words to the Israelites but they were so distressed with their circumstance that they couldn't hear Him. And I shared a story about a time recently when God used an interaction with my dog to remind me that sometimes I act the very same way.
BTW, one of the women in attendance lives in my neighborhood. She is the one to whom I was talking about Mindy.

May you have a wonderful, Jesus-FULL day!

This Week with Grandma

OK. So, I am convinced the worst combination of personality traits for any given task is to have a recovering perfectionist doing a job for a doesn't-realize-she-is-a-perfectionist. (When the recovering perfectionist is fully aware of the other individual's - uh - condition.) Especially when the task in question is one which simply cannot be completed to a perfectionist's standard.

And there you have the background information necessary to understand the exasperation welling up within my when I say:
This week, I faced the greatest challenge I have ev.er. faced while ironing a pair of pants.
As in, I was ready to cut apart and re-sew the stupid challenging pants.
See, Grandma was going out to spend the day with my dad and my aunt. She was so excited about it. Started thinking about what she would wear DAYS in advance. (That's where I came in.) Grandma wanted to wear a particular pair of pants, which needed to be ironed. And she asked me to do it.
I'll be the first to admit, I don't do much ironing. But I'm not afraid of it. And I was happy to help my grandmother in this way. You need to understand, however, that she is very particular. She always looks sharp when she dresses to go out, and I knew she would be expecting a top-notch job from her "laundress."
I fully intended to give her that high quality result.
So, there I am, lining up the seams in the leg of her pants. I pressed the back side of the leg. Got the crease just where I thought she would like it, being careful to keep the seam on the inside in line with the seam on the outside. But when I started pressing the front side of the leg something went terribly wrong. The crease wouldn't line up both above and below the knee if I kept the seams in line. It was like there was extra fabric in places it shouldn't be, and I'm all, C'mon! Ironing these pants shouldn't be this hard.
I began a personal debate inside my head. One side telling me to relax, let go of my perfectionist tendencies, and iron the crease in a crooked manner. Since that's the way the material seemed to want to go, anyway. The other side retorting, Oh, no. That'll never do. As a memory came to me of Grandma sitting in a chair, examining the crease going down the front of her pant.

And so the battles continued.

The one between myself and me - arguing about letting go of perfectionist ideals while realizing Grandma's standards were that high.
And the one between me, the iron, and the stupid challenging pants.
In the end, I did the best I could.
It wasn't "perfect."
However, Grandma didn't care. Or didn't notice. Or was too polite say anything. Anyway, she had a great time with her children. And that's what really mattered.

But I'm telling you, for the love of mental stability, never send a recovering perfectionist to do a job for someone who has a history of expecting perfection.
It might just send her off the deep end. *wink*

HE Knows

Several years ago I memorized Psalm 139, and God continues to speak to me through those words. Yesterday HE had me remembering verse 2.

You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.

~Psalm 139:2

*Honest moment*
I love what I'm doing now. Staying home, taking care of Grandma and my family. But sometimes I get tired. Sometimes life's demands get big, and not all things go as planned. Disappointments happen, feelings get bruised, pride tries to rear its ugly head, and I get to top it all off with an achy back.
Yeah. I reached that point yesterday.
Er, Tuesday.
So yesterday I was trying to operate with a smile in place, and a cheery disposition. But it was so fake. I just wasn't experiencing inside what I was trying to portray outside. And I felt like a hypocrite.
That is, until God brought Psalm 139:2 to my mind and I remembered that HE perceives my thoughts from afar. I thought, You know how I'm really feeling, don't You, God. I can't be fake to You, because You know my thoughts.
By Gods' grace, I was alone in that moment and was able to just let down my guard and be real. I was comforted by the knowledge that HE sees me, and HE knows me.
It felt so good to know that I was known. God reminded me that HE knows it all.
And HE still cherishes me.

I'd love to say that after our moment together, I went on with the rest of my day happy as a lark. But I didn't. And that was really OK with me. Because, instead, I went on with the rest of my day confident that HE knows me. HE can handle my stressful days and overwhelmed feelings. And because of who HE is, I'm going to be just fine.

Thank You, God, for knowing and loving even me.

If you've been having days like mine, I pray these words will be an encouragement to you, too.

HE is Still at Work

Do you ever get the wrong idea about yourself and God?

Like, when He's using you in a particular situation, do you ever get the wrong idea that the work might not continue if you aren't there anymore?

As if HE needs you? (Instead of the other way around...)

I'd like to say I have never been there. But, uh, that would be a lie.
The truth is, I've been there more times than I care to remember.
The truth is, I was there just a few months ago.
And the Truth is, God is still at work.

You may remember stories I have shared here about a very special man from Edgewood whom I referred to as "B." This man stole my heart and I simply loved working with him - watching out for his needs, encouraging him to push his capabilities, and sharing our love for God. Honestly, when I resigned from my role at Edgewood part of me felt like I was abandoning him.
I mean, he was so special to me and we were making such progress. How could I possibly leave him now? What would come of the strides he had made in his recovery? (Do you see how I was thinking too highly of myself? *ahem*)

Well, last Friday I had the delightful opportunity to see B again, at Edgewood. And I'm telling you, my faith in God's faithfulness was bolstered like never before. The office administrator and the life engagement team told me all about the things they were doing with him, and the improvements he's been making. I observed their excitement and listened as they shared stories of what they're doing with B. And I thought, God, You're still at work here. You're continuing to do the good things in B which You started when I was here. It's YOU. Always YOU. I'm thankful for the part I got to play, and I am thankful that You are still at work. You are faithful, God!

My heart is peaceful, knowing God is good. I know HE will not abandon those who love Him, and those He loves. I know HE will continue the good works He has begun. I know HE has a perfect plan, and will bring it to completion. And I know all these things depend on HIM. Not me.
LORD, Your works are wonderful. I know that full well! Thank You for what You're doing in B - and all over the world. When You call me to participate, please help me remember that You are the One working. And my job is simply to trust and obey.

Her Prayers

Elizabeth is home!

Granted, in less than three weeks she'll be leaving for the summer. (She's going to be a camp counselor.) But, for now she's home. And it makes my heart so happy.

Wanna know what makes my heart even happier?

Her prayers!

The other night Brian asked her to say the prayer before dinner. And my heart was completely blessed when I heard the passion in her voice as she prayed for our little Compassion boy. I could sense her love and thankfulness for God, as well as her faith that He can do all things, just by the way she spoke. Now, I am fully aware that God is not concerned with whether our prayers are "eloquent," and He is not impressed by flowery words. But that isn't what I'm talking about regarding Elizabeth. It isn't our job to judge a person's prayer. I mean only to say hearing my daughter pray was evidence to me of how her faith has grown, as well as her relationship with her Father.
You have to understand, this is a girl who used to refuse to pray out loud. She was that timid. But now it seems prayer comes very naturally for her. I think because she's doing it regularly.
And that makes my heart so happy.
Another happy moment came when I was asking about Elizabeth's skin condition. (She has an eczema-type itchy problem.) She said it really hadn't been bothering her much lately. But even when it did flare up, she didn't mind. Because she has begun using the itching as a prayer cue for her friend. And I thought, You've started using prayer cues??? *BIG smile*

If you've been around me for much time, it is likely for you to have a strong sense that I love praying. I love fellowship with God - knowing He is present and listening and active and able to handle what concerns me. I love that He wants me to have this communion with Him! And to see Him cultivating the same thing in my girl? Well, I don't think there is any greater delight for this momma's heart.

Got Questions?

This Week with Grandma

She made me feel like a kid again.

A precious, cherished, watched-over little kid.

It was so sweet. *smile*

Tuesday night, Brian and I went to Grand Rapids to see a pre-release screening of the movie, War Room. You will definitely be reading more about that movie here in the coming weeks and months. It was UH-mazing. So good. Probably the best movie I have ever seen. Mark your calendar for August 28, because you're going to want to go see it.
So, anyway, we went to Grand Rapids.
Before we left, I told Grandma I thought we'd be home about 10:00. Movie started at 7, I figured we'd be on our way home by 9. So, I thought I was safe in saying we'd be home "around" 10.
Well, the movie and evaluation time afterwards took a little longer than I'd anticipated. And then we saw friends as we were walking out, so we stopped to talk with them for a bit. Annnnnd, it was more like 10:45 until we got home.
When we pulled into the driveway I could see Grandma's light was still on, so I decided to check in on her before I went to bed. And when I walked into her room, there was a look of uneasiness in her eyes. She said, "Did you have trouble on the way home?" I responded we had not. Then she said, "And you're just getting home now?" (When she asked that question, I realized we were getting home significantly later than I'd estimated for her.) I started to explain the delay when I thought I could see tears welling up in her eyes. So I sat down on her bed and hugged her, saying I was sorry for being late. She said, "It's OK. As long as you're safe. These are tears of joy."
And we just sat there for a minute with our foreheads resting on each other.
I imagined my grandmother looking at the clock for the previous 45 minutes, wondering when I would get home, worrying that something had gone wrong. Now, when I was a teenager and my MOM did something like that, it absolutely annoyed me. But to know my grandmother was thinking about me all that time, just waiting for me to arrive safely home - well, it blessed my heart. Not that I want to make her worry about me, but there was something very sweet about knowing she cares so much.

(Next time I'll call if we're running late. Guess I didn't learn that lesson when I was a teen. *ahem*)

A Letter to My Younger (Mom) Self

I received an email from a young mother this week, asking me to respond to a few questions. One of them was, "What advice would you give yourself during your children's early years, knowing what you now know?" And as I responded to that question (Besides getting an itch to write another book!) I had a yearning to go back and do it all over again.

If only I could...

But since I can't, I decided to write a letter to my younger (mom) self - in the hopes that someone will read and benefit from it while they're still in the trenches of having really young ones.

Dear Karen,
First of all, congratulations! If you are reading this letter, it must mean you managed to find a few minutes to get away in the quiet. I know these moments are hard to come by, but you did it. Way to go!
Now, let's make the most of this time, because you will surely be called back into action soon.
To begin, let me just remove some stress. You need not believe all those well-intentioned ladies who look at you with patronizing eyes and tell you there will come a time when "you'll miss these days." I know you feel guilty when you hear those remarks.
Let it go.
You aren't going to miss these days.
Oh! You will miss many, many of the moments. But you won't miss the entire day. So don't stress when someone says that to you. Just breathe deeply, ask God to give you strength for the day, and try to memorize the sweet moments.
While you're thinking about letting things go, may I suggest you rid yourself of that unreasonable expectation you have of being a "perfect" mother? It can't be done. Honey, you know nothing in life is perfect. So quit expecting that your new role as "Mommy" should change the course of history.
You aren't perfect. You never will be perfect. And that's OK.
By the way, none of the other moms around you are perfect, either. Truthfully, they're all struggling in one way or another. You don't need to go through your trials alone. Open up. Share with the other moms you know. You'll be amazed how much better you feel when you realize you aren't alone.
Being a mom is tough stuff. I know you know that. And, really, it's OK that you get tired; that you don't know what to do in every situation; that sometimes you want to run away. It's OK, Karen. Please let go of the guilty feelings you have when those moments come. God knows you want to be the best you can be. He knows you fail sometimes. You need not feel guilty about living through tough stuff. Let it go. You'll feel so much better.
And it will be better for your kids, too.
You need to know there will be challenges with your boys when it comes to potty-training. But, do not worry. They'll figure it out. Eventually. Actually, they're going to laugh one day about the fact that you used to give them M&Ms when they were learning to use the potty. And you'll laugh with them.
But forget about trying to get them to do their chores by rewarding them with M&Ms.
It won't work.
Oh, and Matthew will stop wetting the bed eventually, too. You're going to think the day will never come. But it will. Trust me. Just don't expect it to come before age 10. *ahem*
In short, my dear, you will do well to trust God more - and worry less. A lot less. God is faithful. Always has been and always will be. You're going to grow a lot in your relationship with Him as you go through the different phases and challenges of motherhood. It's going to hurt. Sometimes you'll wonder if He's still watching you. Be assured, He is.
Just keep holding onto Him. Keep trusting Him to do what He knows is necessary. And always - let Him fight for you!

I Can't Hold My Tongue Any Longer

OK, so I don't typically deal with hot topics or controversial issues here at Surviving Motherhood. That simply is not the purpose of this blog.
HOWEVER, with all the recent talk about gay marriage I have come across several "Jesus hung out with sinners" statements which I feel are complete misrepresentations of who He was and what He did. And I cannot sit by and say nothing. I just can't be passive on this one.

Please read my words as a plea to honor Jesus and understand His actions - not as an attack on the homosexual community.

I have read statements from people who were arguing in defense of gay marriage by pointing out that Jesus was a friend of sinners. Some commenters supposed that Jesus would attend the weddings of the gay folks with whom He was hanging out. And bake the cake. And take the pictures. I didn't read any suggestions that He would also be the "Best Man," but that was the path down which these comments seemed to be going.
I am not about to deny that Jesus was a friend of sinners. I am so thankful He is - because He reached out to me when I was lost in my sin. And I am not sure I can predict whether or not He would attend a gay wedding. What I am sure of, though, is that Jesus would not celebrate sin, or encourage people to carry on in it. And that's what really burdened me about the comments I was reading. People seemed to be equating Jesus' fellowship with sinners with His condoning of the sin.
Jesus hung out with sinners, yes.
But He did not celebrate their sin.
Rather, He called them to turn from it.
Consider, for example, Zacchaeus the tax collector. You can read his story here. Jesus was going to go to his house, and the people who knew Zacchaeus were shocked. Why would Jesus be the guest of a "sinner?" But Jesus wasn't going over to Zach's house to help him plan ways to steal more money from the people. In fact, something about just being in the presence of Jesus caused Zacchaeus to repent of his sin and promise to make things right. Jesus followed up Zach's proclamation by stating that He had come to seek and save the lost.
And save.
He didn't come to seek and further expel the lost.
He came to save them. (Us!)
What about the woman caught in adultery? Jesus came to her rescue. He got her accusers to leave her alone by telling them that the one who was without sin could cast the first stone at her. But once they had all left, Jesus didn't say to her, "OK. As you were!"
He told her to leave her life of sin.
And so it was with the Samaritan woman at the well, and the sinful woman who anointed Jesus. Jesus did not shun these women, as many of the "righteous" people around Him did. He forgave them, and He called them to follow Him. But He did not celebrate their sin and encourage them to keep living it.

Jesus was a friend of sinners.
BUT, Jesus did not promote sin.
Let us not get the two ideas mixed up.

Indirect Communication 101

Me: I had a crazy dream last night.
*Insert/imagine dream summary here.*
Hubby: Sounds stressful. Did it make you feel like you needed to curl up in all the blankets?
(Emphasis placed on "all.")
Me: It was. *pause* Oh. Did I steal your blankets?
Hubby: Just looked at me. Didn't need to say anything.
Me: Oops. Sorry.

It's how we roll.

For the record: I am really not a fan of indirect communication. Therefore, when I want to complain about his snoring, I come right out and say it. *wink*

Here We (Don't) Go, Again

This Week with Grandma

I have experienced lots of wonderful things while my grandmother has been living with us.
Reliving good memories (and making new ones!), hearing new stories, seeing faith in action, and being stretched (in good ways) - just to name a few.
This week I was able to see another wonderful thing. That is, the picture of a beautiful friend doing a simple thing, which made a big impact.
My grandmother has a friend - who is young enough to be her daughter. Over the years I have heard her name mentioned many times, and I've known she is special to my grandma. Because she is so kind. This dear woman makes sure that Grandma receives mail (And not just of the electronic type. She sends cards and notes regularly via snail mail, too.) and phone calls. She keeps in touch and helps keep my grandmother's spirits lifted.
Two weeks ago when they were talking, Grandma mentioned to her friend that she'd just finished reading a book and was confused about a couple things. Said she couldn't wait to talk with someone else who has read it, so she could resolve the questions in her mind.
So, Saturday this friend called for Grandma, and guess what? She had just read the book, and was ready to talk with Grandma all about it. They were on the phone for quite some time and as soon as she hung up, Grandma told me all about how sweet this friend of hers is. "She got that book and read it, just so she could talk about it with me!"
I've heard her repeat the story several times this week. She's told my aunt, the aide who comes to give her a shower, her nurse, and anyone else who will listen. That simple act - reading a book so a conversation could be had - meant so much to my grandmother. I think it made her feel loved. Like she mattered - and what she was thinking about mattered. Someone went out of their way to do something for her (simple as it was) and I don't think she'll ever forget it.

Makes me wonder how many opportunities we have to do "simple things" which would make a big impact. And how many times we walk right past them.

Let's keep our eyes open, shall we?

MacBeth, a la Josh and Will

In the mood for a little Shakespeare?

My son recently had a school assignment which involved creating his own rendition of MacBeth. While neither Josh, nor his friend, was very excited about the assignment they sure had fun pulling it off. And I'm thinking once again that something in the film production industry might be in my son's future.

Roll it!


P.S. The item burning a the end was the script Will and Josh had written. A celebration of sorts to be finished with the assignment.

There is No Power in Prayer

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

It was my junior year in college (Or senior year, maybe. What's twelve months between friends?) and I was at a weekend conference about prayer when the speaker took to the mic and proclaimed, "There is no power in prayer."
And I'm all, Excuse me? Who are you, and what are you saying? Have you hijacked this conference to bring us some heretical teaching? Quick! Someone get the Theology Police!!!
But before anyone had a chance to start throwing things at the platform, and now that he had our attention (BTW,as a speaker, I really admire his clever introduction.) he made his point.
The power exists in and flows from GOD.
And prayer is our vehicle to access that power.
Admittedly, I don't remember the specifics of his teaching that weekend (*ahem* It was 23 or 24 years ago.) but I have never forgotten that statement. And as my faith and prayer-life have grown, so has my confidence that the power is in my All-knowing, All-seeing, All-loving, Completely-able GOD.
I think it is because of this confidence in what God can do, that so I love praying.

The thing is, I am not very eloquent with my words. Sometimes I forget that a person has asked me to pray for a particular thing. (Until God graciously reminds me with a prayer cue.) And occasionally I get discouraged because of my inadequacies. That is, I begin to feel like I'm letting someone down because my prayers aren't good enough.
Which is usually just about the time God's Spirit swoops in to save the day, by reminding me there is no power in my prayers. The power exists in and flows from GOD.
*It isn't up to me to say the right thing at the right time.
*I don't need to come up with the perfect suggestion for how God is to resolve a particular issue.
(I remind myself of this fact when I start listing ideas for Him. *ahem*)
*AND, I get no credit for the good things which occur in this world as a result of my prayers.

Please know, I am NOT saying prayer is ineffective, or insignificant, or a waste of our time. If anything sounding like that ever appears on this blog, please alert the authorities - because either I have gone crazy and need to be hospitalized, or someone has kidnapped me and taken over my blog.
What I am saying is the power is God's and all the glory goes to Him. God sees each of us in our individual circumstances, even while He sees the whole world and knows what is happening everywhere. In His perfect knowledge, God sees what is needed in each situation and, in His unhindered ability, God works out His plan.
And for some reason, in the midst of all He does, God makes Himself available to us - so we can talk to Him, and pour our hearts out to Him, and lay our concerns at His feet. Then we get to watch in wonder as God infuses His power into a circumstance and brings good from bad, replaces despair with hope, frees the captive, and breathes life into dead places.
Not because of our carefully crafted petitions, but because He cares.
So, let us not think of ourselves - the pray-ers - as remarkable, or worthy of thanks and praise. Rather, let us give our adoration to the One who moves, who answers, who is the Power and Source of all good things.
With that heart attitude I pray, and I look forward to seeing how God will act on behalf of Saeed, Julie's parents, Bo, Stacy's friend, Jennifer's friend, Chera, Angela, Edie, Elizabeth, Nick, Ryzen, the Shephard family, the Reeds, Kaira, Kim and Glenn, Amy, the country of Nepal, the city of Baltimore, Kimberly, my grandmother, and this broken world which needs Him so desperately.

The need is great, but HE is greater.

Ouch!

My tongue hurts.

I overheard a conversation between Josh and Brian last weekend.
They were discussing car payments.
That is, Brian was reminding Josh that it had just been payday and he was expecting Josh to make a payment on his Jeep. Which led to a I-thought-we-were-on-a-monthly-payment-plan versus you-said-you-wanted-to-make-payments-each-payday dialogue.
Which is totally true. Brian originally said he wanted Josh to make payments monthly (less accounting work that way) but for some reason Josh thought it would be better/easier/something to make smaller payments with each pay check.
So, anyway, I'm listening to them going back and forth on the topic. And Josh finally made the deciding statement. Payments will be made monthly because, "Since I have to go to the ATM to get the cash out to pay you, it's just more convenient to only do it once a month."

There I am in the other room, hearing my son say things which show evidence that he is coming to value time management. Things which make me think he might be beginning to understand why I won't drop everything and run when he wants me to go to the store and get something 'just because'. Things which reinforce my belief that my son is becoming a mother.
And I'm about to yell, "See? That's what I've been trying to say all these years. Every time you have wanted me to go do this, or go get that, when I was just out getting the other thing - or was planning to get it the next day - and you threw a fit because you wanted it NOW. And you couldn't understand why I was saying no, and you thought I was just being mean, and you got really mad at me. But now you're getting it. Now you're seeing things like I do. Sometimes it's just more convenient to get things done in one trip. See? I told you so!"
But I knew it wouldn't be helpful to let that little rant come out of my mouth. So I bit my tongue.
And now it hurts.
*wink*

This Week with Grandma

...has been a little rough.

My dear grandmother just hasn't been feeling well. She said to me Thursday morning, when I asked how she was feeling, "I'm tired of saying I don't feel well." And she is tired.
*Tired of feeling yucky.
*Tired of her aching legs.
*Tired of not being able to hear well.
*Tired of her hearing aids not working all the time. (Or is it her ears? Not sure. Will be getting her hearing re-checked when the weather warms up.)
*Tired of not sleeping restfully.
Just plain tired.

So today, rather than sharing a cute anecdote about life with Grandma, I'm going to ask you to pray for her. Will you ask God to bring peace and joy to her heart, even as you ask Him to bring her physical relief?
Thanks, dear friends. I appreciate it more than you realize.

"Empty" is the New "Still Some Left"

We've all heard that brown is the new black, and 40 is the new 30, but did you also know empty is the new still some left?
At least it is according to my boys.
*ahem*

Sunday night I was presented with an urgent request to go to the store and buy more shampoo. The boys' bottle was empty, you see. And since the last person to get a bottle of shampoo from the closet in the hallway didn't write on the grocery list that we needed more shampoo, there was no back-up supply. (The grocery list which, by the way, I keep on the refrigerator so it is easily accessible for everyone in the family; which my family members know I use every.single.week. to plan my grocery run; and upon which I have repeatedly instructed my dear family members to write the names of items which need to be replaced - so we're I'm never in the position of making emergency runs to the store. ***cue:end of rant)
Fortunately (for them), I had another reason to go to the store Sunday night and now - since I had TWO reasons to go - I went.
In a perfect world, that would be the end of the story.

I don't live in a perfect world.

In my world, this is what happened: Monday morning I was walking through the boys' bathroom to get to the laundry room and I thought, I'll just grab the bottle of shampoo which was hijacked borrowed from my bathroom by the son who discovered his empty shampoo bottle Sunday morning. So I whipped open the shower curtain and grabbed my shampoo bottle. And as I did, I noticed something peculiar. There was another shampoo bottle on the floor which still had some shampoo in it. Granted, it wasn't much, but there was still some left.
So I took the two shampoo bottles upstairs with me and put them in my shower. Only, I stored the "still some left" bottle properly, so as to be able to utilize all the shampoo stored in said bottle.

I washed my hair for two days with the shampoo left in that "empty" bottle.

And since I noticed one of the boys had gotten a new bottle of dish washing detergent out, I went ahead and did what should be done to "empty" bottles of liquid dish detergent before they're thrown into the recycling bin.

You know, because I'm still operating in the days when we called it "still some left".

Even This

My heart is heavy as I write this post.

Because I received some very sad news about someone I love.
And I don't know what the future holds for her.
And even though it might, maybe, could possibly be resolved and work out in the end, well - it might not.
Which makes me very sad.

The thing is, I know this situation is not a surprise to God. He has known for all of eternity that it was going to happen. And I realize it may very well be part of His perfect plan. Oh, how I hope HE is at the center of this circumstance! Because I believe God can use every single situation - even the painful ones - for our good, and His glory.
But my loved one doesn't believe like I do. In fact, she doesn't think God listens, or hears, or acts on our behalf. Truthfully, I'm not sure she even believes He exists.
Which makes me very, very sad.
So I'm doing the only thing I know to do. I am falling to my knees, begging God to use even this.
I am asking the Lord of the universe to once again work good out of an awful situation. I am asking Him to bring people from darkness into the Light, to heal the wounds, to restore what has been lost and mend what has been broken. And as He does all that, I am asking Him to open the eyes of those who are lost so they may see and believe. Yes, LORD, please use even this!

Do you know someone with an "even this" circumstance?
Please join me before our Father's throne.
I know He loves the ones we love. I know He will hear us. And I know He has the power to move.

Praise the Name of the LORD!

What's for Lunch?

I've mentioned before that one of the things I am loving about being a stay-at-home-mom again is that I can do more for my family. And I really do mean it!
However, I am not sure my son got the memo.
Seems to me, he thought there needed to be some added incentive for me to do nice things.

This is how it happened:

Because there almost always seems to be a battle for left-overs between the two oldest males in this home, I decided to make a couple meals to divide up and put in the freezer. That way, a satisfactory lunch would be easily available and the battles could cease. So I made a pan of lasagna and a double-batch of bean burritos. Twenty-one lunches, right there!
I knew my son was pleased with this arrangement, and I fully intended to keep it going. But one evening he laid a story on me which pretty much clinched that I would be making more lunches. He said his friends at school were admiring his lunches. They wanted to know where he was getting them. And when he told them his mom made them for him for lunch, they all said they wished "their moms" would do the same. And in my head I'm all, Oh, that's so sweet. Of course I'll keep doing this! Especially now that I have a reputation to uphold. *wink* But what came out of my mouth was, "Are you almost out of lunches? Need me to make more? Is that what this is all about?"
It was.
So I made more.
And then at the end of last week he told me with a smile, "Guess what? Today someone asked me if my lunch was from a restaurant."
I checked the freezer and, sure enough, lunches were low. So this weekend I made a double-batch of bean burritos, and froze a couple pieces of the lasagna I made for dinner Saturday night.

Yep, good intentions get me started.
But compliments keep me going. *wink*

Who Am I?

Did you miss the rant post last week about the "God won't give you more than you can handle" (mis)statement? Here it is!

This Week with Grandma

I had a full house Tuesday evening.
My parents just got back to Michigan after spending the winter down south (Thanksgiving was the last time I saw them.), so Tuesday I had the gang over for dinner. Mom and Dad, my aunt (Dad's sister) and my big brother all came over. Of course, Grandma (Dad's mom) was already here. We put an extra leaf in the table to accommodate, and were ready for what I was hoping would be a good time.
See, my family of origin has some issues. (Who doesn't???) There are struggles in relationships. We have wounds, and experience brokenness just like everyone else. And I was very aware of the potential for tension in the air Tuesday.

But can I tell you?

We had so.much.fun!

Now, it could be the Reconsilosec I slipped into the baked beans (I jest!), but I think it's more likely we were all just sincerely happy to see each other. We caught up, and remembered when, and wondered about the future. And laughed. Lots and lots of laughter!
Grandma had to excuse herself from the table and go lay down - because she was worn out from all the laughing. And when it was time to say good-night, everyone took a turn in her bedroom and bid her farewell. The personal attention really blessed her. (I know, because I heard her telling a friend about it on the phone the next day.)
This isn't to say our family quirks and relationship wounds have all been laid aside. Sometimes I'm afraid that'll never happen.
But it is to say, I'm glad I took the risk. I'm glad we got together and took time to love and laugh. I'm glad the fear of what-might-have-been didn't win. And I look forward to doing it again.

And now I want to turn it over to you.
Has your family got "issues," too? And do those issues sometimes get in the way of getting everyone together? Take it from Grandma and me - the love of family is worth it. Go ahead and give it a try!
(And if you need a great recipe for burgers to serve everyone, let me know. Mine were a huge hit! *wink*)

I Think My Son is Becoming a Mother

OK, relax.
I am NOT talking about the kind of becoming like a certain Olympian from the 70s, whose "becoming" has been all over the news lately. (I get updates when standing in line at the grocery store. *ahem*)

What I'm talking about is this: Lately my son has been saying things - expressing frustration about certain situations - which has me thinking he gets me.
For example, he said to me a few nights ago, "It drives me crazy when people don't listen to what I say." He went on to describe a situation at work when he had to enforce some park rules, but the subjects of the enforcement didn't want to comply. Instead, they argued with my son. Tried bargaining with him. Ignored his words. But after several minutes of my son being as polite as possible and explaining the rules (while also trying to hide his frustration) they finally gave in.
As he relayed the story, I could feel his angst in the moment and I nearly bit my tongue to keep myself from saying something like, "Yeah. Now you know how I feel every time you don't listen to me."
And the next day he came home with another story. For a time, he was the only employee on duty at the park - which left him covering a lot of bases on his own. Manning the parking booth, responding to complaints, enforcing rules - he felt like he was being pulled in so many directions. How is one person supposed to handle all this??? And I'm all, Yeah. Welcome to what it's like being a mom. (In my head, of course. I didn't say that out loud. *wink*)

So, you see, I really think my son is becoming a mom. He has to enforce rules and deal with people who don't want to obey them. And he has to deal with them kindly. Sometimes he has to handle multiple responsibilities which have him running in opposite directions, and leave him feeling like he can't handle it all. His work is occasionally frustrating, and yet he loves what he does. At the end of the day he comes home worn out, full of stories (happy ones and frustrating ones), looking for food, ready for a break, and anticipating the fun he'll have the next time he clocks in. He soooooo gets me!

I love my son's job. *grin*

God Won't Give Me What???

Lately I have read several blog posts (here's one) about non-biblical statements which are believed by a lot of Christians. Statements like, "God helps those who help themselves," or, "Cleanliness is next to godliness," or, "God wants me to be happy," or - the one that really gets my goat - "God won't give you more than you can handle." *scream*
I will freely admit, those words have passed over my lips before.
Many times.
Before my misunderstanding was corrected.
And now that I understand its falsehood, that statement makes me sad every time I hear it.

Here's why:

The first reason is because it isn't a biblical statement. Rather, it is a misrepresentation of 1 Corinthians 10:13 where the thing Paul says God won't allow us to be overcome by is temptation to sin - not hardship. In fact, if you read the Bible you'll find lots of examples of times when God allowed people to face more than they could bear. Think about the Israelites at the Red Sea, Daniel in the lion's den, David and Goliath, Mary and Martha and (temporarily) dead Lazarus.
All those circumstances were too much for the individuals to handle.
BUT, they were not too much for God to handle. That's the key!
So, the Bible shows us: God does give us more than we can handle.

The other reason I am so deeply saddened by this statement is because of it's implications.
If God truly won't give us more than we can handle, then our need to rely on Him has just been swept away. We could rightly say, "Don't worry 'bout me, God. I've got this all under control. You can go watch over someone else. I don't need You!"
And - just as heart-breaking - if God didn't give us more than we could handle, then whenever we faced a circumstance which knocked us over we would have to acknowledge our utter hopelessness and position as a failure. Imagine the pressure taken on by a person who believes they must be able to handle every difficulty and challenge which comes their way. One could only conclude when the burden crushed them that they simply weren't good enough, or able enough, or strong enough. After all, if GOD thought they could handle it... What a loser!

Friends, I am so glad that statement isn't True.
The TRUTH is, God gives me more than I can handle on a daily basis.
BUT He never gives me more than HE can handle.
So I surrender to Him every day. I trust God to be my strength; to lead me through His perfect plan; to fight for me (Exodus 14:14). I freely confess: I can't handle life on my own. And because of God's power and faithfulness and promises - I don't have to!

Would love to hear your thoughts on this subject.

A Surprise Visit to the Windy City

Saturday my baby girl turned 19.

How is that possible???

Well, she did.
This is the first year we weren't going to be having our usual family get-together to celebrate.
And that just didn't feel right.
How could we not be with our girl on her birthday???

Uh, the short answer is: We couldn't.

So, Brian and I took on Nick (a.k.a. "Beau") as an accomplice, and we planned a surprise visit to see Elizabeth (a.k.a. "Beauty") on her birthday weekend.
Friday morning Brian, Nick, Josh, Matthew, and I all piled in the van and road-tripped it out to Chicago. The five of us visited Shedd's Aquarium and then walked around town before going to meet Elizabeth at the train station. (Nick was already planning to visit her, so he told her to meet him in Chicago for a "surprise" adventure. She had no idea WE were the surprise!)
Along the way, we stopped by this great big silver "thing" in Millennium Park to pose for a picture.

Once at the train station, we got into position. When Elizabeth came down the stairs and hugged Nick, we all came out from hiding and hugged her.
She was so surprised. *grin*
From there we went out to dinner (Happy moment for me was when I heard Elizabeth say to Nick as we were all walking, "See that? That's my family!") and then walked over to the Briar Street Theater to see the Blue Man Group.
What a great show!

Saturday morning we joined Elizabeth and six of her friends for breakfast. (If you ever visit Wheaton, Illinois you simply must eat at the Egglectic Cafe. You're welcome.)
And then it was time to come home.

It was a fun, fun weekend.

Enough is Enough!

This Week with Grandma

Have you ever wondered how to win a person's heart, and brighten their day?

If you have, I believe I have the answer for you.
Notice something about the person which is remarkable, and pay them a compliment about that thing.

It sure worked with my grandma!

A couple of weeks ago a visiting podiatrist came to our house for Grandma. She was soaking her feet while she waited for him, and as he took her feet in his hands to dry them I heard him say, "You probably have the nicest feet I'll see all day!" (She truly does have nice feet. They're sooooo soft.)
From where I was in the other room, I could hear them talking about other things - feet, toes, skin cancer, and NCAA basketball play-offs - and I knew they were getting along well. But I didn't realize just how much Dr. Nice-guy had delighted my grandmother until I overheard countless conversations she had after he was gone. On the phone, and face-to-face, I have heard her telling people, "And then he said, 'You probably have the nicest feet I'll see all day!' He was such a good doctor."
I smile every time I hear her tell about that incident. (And she's still relaying the story to anyone who hasn't heard it yet...) Because I know it makes her happy, and because it reminds me how easy it is to bring joy to a person's day.

So, if you ever see people (And I know you do!) give this practice a try.
Look for something about which you can pay them a sincere compliment. And then do it.

I wonder how bright we can make this world by speaking nice things.

Be Still: Mom Edition

So, next week I get to help out a friend.
She leads a moms' group and had a speaker cancel at the "last minute".
Er, two weeks before the last minute.
Anyway, my friend asked if I could fill in. I had room in my schedule, and was happy to oblige.
So, next week I get to speak to this group of moms.

I spoke for the same group last year and presented Confessions of an Irritable Mother, so this time I'll be doing something different. My friend looked at the topics on my website and asked if I would speak on Be Still: God's Got This. And, since I am still fill of joy from presenting Be Still at a retreat last month I was only too happy to agree. But I will be doing it differently (as in, one 45-minute talk rather than four separate talks) and I want to focus on the needs of moms.
That said, I have a couple questions for you.
*What do you perceive as the greatest need (or needs) you have as a mom?
*How would you finish this statement? "God, when it comes to (your situation), I need You to fight for me."

Thanks for sharing your thoughts.

God and the X Box

If you've been reading here for any amount of time, you know I have often been delighted by the various ways God speaks to my heart. But, would you believe it if I told you I think sometimes HE speaks through my son's X Box?

See, the other day Matthew was playing on the X Box with his friends (on X Box Live - where they wear these headphone things and can talk to each other/see one another on the screen). Anyway, he was intent on his game and talking to his friends - on their venture to rid the world of all evil.
Meanwhile, I was sitting across the room praying for a woman who attended the retreat at which I spoke last month. The theme of the retreat was "Be Still: God's Got This", and at the end of it I asked the ladies to fill out cards so I could pray for them. The cards said, "Be Still...God's got (blank)" and the women filled in the blank with their "this", i.e. the circumstance in their life with which they were committing to trust God. So, I'm sitting there praying for this woman's concern, asking God to remind her of His faithfulness and His power to handle her circumstance. And at that moment Matthew called out to his friend on the X Box, "I got this!"
I realized Matthew was probably reassuring his friend that he was about to shoot the enemy, but somehow I was sure God meant those words for me.
To assure me He heard my prayer for this woman.
To remind me He has, indeed, got this.

Oh, how I love it when HE speaks!

Teamwork

A few weeks ago, I went into Matthew's bedroom to say "Good night" and found my son hunched over his desk, distraught, with tears in his eyes. He looked up at me and asked, "Do you know how to write a sonnet?" Seems it was an assignment from his English teacher, and he hadn't the first idea where to start. (Funny how my kids think writing a couple of books makes me knowledgeable about all kinds of writing. Matthew's question was not the first of similar queries my children have thrown at me over the years. *ahem*)
Anyway, I confessed to him that I wasn't even sure what a sonnet was (I mean, besides some kind of poem) - let alone how to write one. But I sat down with him to see if I could help.
At that point I realized Matthew knew what a sonnet was, and what he needed to do. He simply was under pressure and felt despairing. All he needed from me was moral support and an idea, or two.
So I thought for a minute, What does Matthew like? What topic would make a fun one for him to "sonnetize"? And then it came to me. The boy loves his X-Box, so why not write a sonnet about his adventures gaming?
I ran the idea past him to gain his approval, helped him establish a basic outline to cover in the "story" of the sonnet, and we were off. It was quite fun to tag-team our ideas back and forth, as we searched for words which would rhyme and thoughts which would flow. And after about half an hour of brainstorming, writing, and re-writing, this is what we created:

Though I’m not yet a man, and we aren’t at war,
I enter the battlefield every Saturday afternoon.
To this life I live, I know there must be more,
So I pursue it boldly in my living room.

As the guns start firing, and my heart beats faster,
I join with my comrades to commence an assault.
Together we know we can unleash disaster,
As we exploit our enemies’ every fault.

When I turned the corner, I was shot in the head.
My teammates got down and began firing back,
I was glad for their presence, but afraid I was dead.
Our “unleashed disaster” had gone off track.

I waited for the inevitable “respawn” screen.
Don’t worry about me, I’m just playing a video game.

I'm Back!

And here's the link to the post I don't want you to miss. :)