I wasn't ready

I wasn't ready for yesterday.

It was the first beautiful day which means playing outside with neighborhood friends which meant TONS of request for outside toys which are buried behind building materials from the construction of our home this winter. So they just ran around the house over all the cement and nails and glass. Seriously.

There is a ton of small bits of debris in the yard from the construction and when you pair that with curious kids and apparently complete mental block, kids get hurt, things get broke.

Somehow yesterday, in the excitement of spring and our friends we haven't played with in months, the kids were really anxious to provide me with lots of opportunity to remind them of all the rules. ALL the rules. It was like there were magnets for doing stupid crap.

When it was dinner time and Paul and I were talking with the kids about our behavior outside and how even in our excitement, we are still Christians and should behave as such. We are still control of our selves. Because we weren't ready for this "How do we play outside and what are our rules" conversation, we just kept looking at each other like, "uh....was there something else?" It was a very moving, convincing family meeting. Five minutes later we found our kid breaking one of the rules.

(You have to understand that with the tornado last spring, everything changed here. Fences are down, houses are gone, debris was everywhere. The rules changed. The layout of their play area changed. They played different and unfortunately it meant pushing LOTS of boundaries in what is respectful and not.)

I get that in the summer we stay up a little later, but we are still in school. I also forgot that when boys play outside, they stink and they are dirty when they come inside. So in my freshly cleaned house, were three rowdy, dirty kids ready for their baths.

Oh, yea. They need to be cleaned.

Crap, I wasn't ready for this task, because now they will be even later getting to bed and not getting sleep which they so desperately need as they are still adjusting from day light savings.

I ran those kids through the bath like it was a factory for cleaning kids. Wash, rinse, lotion, PJ's, teeth.

There are dirty clothes everywhere, water everywhere, friends pounding on the door and peeking through the window still wanting to play, and my kids screaming at the top of their lungs that its time for bed.

Good grief.

Once stories were read, and prayers were said, they were all in their beds giggling and telling stories. I looked at my husband who said he was waiting for me to print our statement of completion for the bank because he just got off the phone with our contractor and the one we mailed in was blank.

Awesome.

15 minutes later, we have all of our paperwork printed, Paul is on a mission to get it signed by the other owner of the home, we can't find keys, kids are having issues with the bathroom, and monsters on the walls, (for some reason middle really hated his room last night and was plaqued all night long with nightmares. Not sure where that came from.) and my friend who has come over to hang out has now successfully washed and dried all my dishes.

It felt like constant reacting, or catching up or parenting on the fly all evening. I wasn't ready and I couldn't keep up. I was faced with making choices that I hadn't even known were questions. It was an exhausting night.

We need to figure out some boundaries for playing outside in the hood.

I need a plan.

Don't give up

We all have something that we want in life. Maybe it’s a dream, maybe it’s a lifestyle or an education, or a job, it could be a hundred different things.

In my experience, the thing that we want never seems to be easy to obtain. It takes work. It takes work to make that dream happen and it takes work to maintain it.

I have found though that when you work for it and you stand in the midst of experiencing your dream, it’s worth it. All the hours, the sacrifices, the struggles, all the work is worth it, and fuels you to keep working at it.

In my family, Paul and I both have dreams and we love pursuing them, and supporting each other in dreaming and doing what we can to make them come true. (Unavoidable life experiences happen, but when it is within your control to push forward, we do.) It takes a lot of work to make two dreamers content with life. Staying still when needed and pushing forward when able to do so. I would have said last year that it takes works to make our family happen in a healthy way. Now in our new year of dietary restrictions, school schedules, and living a dozen hours from family, it takes a LOT of work to make our life and dreams happen in a relatively healthy way.

Last year when I would prepare to be gone and speak for the weekend, I would do hours of writing prep, I would select my wardrobe, I would arrange for travel, I would pack my merchandise, I would make sure Paul had diapers, one meal already prepared, and groceries bought so he could just spend time with the kiddos. That was basically my checklist and it took me two days to make my dream come true.

I have found in our busy season that it takes me all week to prepare to leave for a weekend away. We have food items that are at certain specialty stores, so in one week it’s a stop at four different places to feed my family. On top of grocery shopping, I prepare all the meals ahead of time for my kids and then prepare snacks and small items for me to bring along so that I too can eat and not be a burden on my hosts. With adding good ole down home cooking, there is also our school schedule. We are not in activities yet, so we aren’t running around in the evenings, but school does mean packing the other kids up twice a day to take and pick up Big from school. It takes time. But it also means when I am gone, I need to arrange someone else to do the driving, and make sure there are notes to teachers, and directions for drivers, etc. The list goes on.

If we want to see our kids, that means being extra prepared so that you can prepare a little each day, play with the kids a little each day, pack a little each day, cook a little each day.

It would be a lot easier to stay home.

But staying home doesn’t make my dream come true. Doesn’t make what I believe God has gifted me with happen. Not working for it will never make my dream a reality.

It takes work to make dreams come true. It takes work to have intentional family time, to prepare devotions, to arrange your schedule to have quality time with your spouse, with your kids, and the Lord to remain healthy and balanced. It takes work when all that is said and done to say, now I push forward on making my dream happen. Now I get myself back in my kitchen to prepare food for my family so I can be gone. Now I get off the couch and workout so my body doesn’t fall apart and I feel better. After all that is said and done, now I write. Now I read. Now I paint. Now I play my instrument.

Now I make my dream happen.

After I used EVERY dish, I’m not kidding, every dish in my kitchen this past week to prepare all eight meals for the weekend for us while we were gone, I thought to myself, this is crazy. This is a lot of work. Why are doing this?

Then I watched my husband take the stage in front of 800 people. I love watching him play. He’s alive when he plays. He is at his best when he plays. He is connected to his soul more then ever when plays. I experience how different our family time is when we are away from home. The games my kids and I play together, and the fun we have because we get to come with dad once in awhile. And it’s worth it.

The work to make your dreams come true are worth it. Don’t give up. Keep pushing forward. Find the balance. Learn when to say no, but don’t give up. No one applauds the daily dirty work to make your life happen. Its what you do if you believe in your dream enough. The daily work isn’t to be praised by others, its for your own growth, your own depth of character to appreciate when the dream happens.

Don't give up.

In never giving up, most of what makes it so much work is putting God and family first. It’s making sure you still see your kids, you still laugh with your spouse, you still sit and read together at night. That you find time to snuggle and play. Those aren’t the sacrifices you make to have dreams come true. Make sure those things still happen cause you’ll never get those moments back. Fight hard to find the balance and never give up.

Side note: I know there are short cuts to not preparing every meal. We have LarBars for meals, we eat all fresh fruit and veggies for snacks, we eat scrambled eggs for dinner, or veggies and hummus. I cut my corners, but mostly we also value health, and want to make sure we never cut corners when it comes to feeding and training our kids about food.

Assumptions and Expectations

Sometimes it's like living in the dark and difficult all the time for me. I am amazed at how many assumptions and expectations I live under. They change my perspective. They limit me in my understanding and leave me with a pallet for judgements. They leave me angry, disappointed and lost. They steal joy from me.

My husband and I had a wonderful conversation last night. It was a conversation steeped in real thoughts and matters of the heart. I will confess, we don't have those conversations all the time. We often are just trying to keep life rolling without rolling over us. So this was wonderful.

It was also one of those conversations that bring up all sorts of thoughts you've been having, or questions you want to ask, but you don't. You don't ask them because your in the middle of life, dinner, routine, schedules or a disagreement, or hard conversation, or like us, we just call it a plain fight. I am notorious for starting a disagreement and eventually working in five other issues I'm having with my husband or our life that have nothing to do with what we originally were talking about.

In my experience, this is the worst, most irresponsible and immature way to discuss problems you are having. Generally you stay on task on the issue at hand. If there are other issues, bring them up once the first is resolved. I also like to try to bring up items to discuss when we aren't upset with one another. I have found that we listen to each other better, and then it truly isn't a fight, but a real conversation.

Back on track. Last night we were talking about the new habit that we are forming with the kiddo's. It's called Feed your body, feed your soul. I'll write about that tomorrow. But we started to discuss it. I of course am looking at it as a way of teaching or modeling to our children what it means to bring the word of God into your daily life. Paul supports and agrees with that, but casually made the comment of forcing it, like a religion, that the kids want to rebel against.

This innocent comment of course brings up both of our histories and responses to the faith. Paul and I were both brought up in the faith, going to church on Sunday, confirmation, volunteering, youth group, Captive Free, prayer before supper, Christian music, you name it. However, I tried very hard for a couple years to find my own way. To reject or disengage with religion, while still trying to look the part just in case I needed to fall back on it. It was a confusing and a hard time for me. Christ and God's love for me didn't become really something that I started to understand till after High School. My husband on the other hand embraced it easily and lived up to the name Christian. Being good and honorable seems much easier for him, almost automatic. (Still to this day, right choices are easier for him. I still struggle and have to fight to do the right thing.)

So here we are two different people, coming from what seems like similar backgrounds responding very differently to grace and trying to raise children to love and embrace God. We started talking about how I live out my faith (emotionally, publicly, vocally, almost demanding). Then there is how Paul lives out his faith (quietly, internally, intellectually, automatically). I'm still not sure all these words are totally right, because this is what our conversation was based around.

I have for the last few years looked and watched Paul's faith and found him at fault. Found him lacking. I can say that now because I have confessed that to him and to the Lord and have been forgiven. I have judged his process and his rhythms and it is very unfair. I have projected my assumptions of what active faith looks like (meaning it should look a lot like mine) and because it doesn't, I have found him lacking. I was so convicted of this last night, not even realizing that that's exactly what I had done. I wanted him to say certain things to the kids to encourage their faith, and he didn't say it so I was disappointed. He wouldn't do prayer time the way I would, so I was frustrated. The list could go on, but for the sake of saving a little of my integrity, I'll stop.

We discussed internal faith vs quiet faith. Vocal vs external. And we discussed a lot about assumptions. We discussed how when faith can be just automatic than others don't understand your motivation of why you do what you do. We discussed the importance of still vocalizing our reasons behind the madness.

And then we discussed a lot about modeling behavior. That blog will come in the next week.

I assumed a lot of wrong things about my husbands faith and the way he interacts with the kids, his reasons for his behavior and the way he lived out his faith. He also assumed things about my faith and the reasons behind why I do what I do and the way I interact with the kids.

I knew expectations could be the hammer to destroy a foundation in a relationship, but what I got blindsided by was assumptions. Assuming you know what you don't.

The only way to get through assuming is to ask questions and have conversations.

They may be hard, but completely worth it. And most likely, you tackle the first one, it will reveal many more.

Intentional

This is the slogan in our house this year. We want to live under this banner and see how it changes our lives.

On New Years Eve Paul and I like to go through our calendar and review the year. We relive memories and share our hearts and thoughts on the things that happened. Then we look at the new calendar and make plans. We set goals that feel slightly achievable and that won't make us feel like crap if we don't meet them. We see what we did that we want to change and what we want to keep.

Paul and I noticed only one thing from this past year.

It was CRAZY!!!

Last winter at this time we were dealing with a baby and a child whose body was being poisoned and he didn't know how to live with it, all the while trying to homeschool and research schools for the next year. We were having multiple daily meltdowns, me specifically, and calling mom and crying at least twice a day, me again. I try to tell people what a mess I am, but so many don't seem to believe me. Just spend more than three days with me, and you'll discover all my hidden faults and weaknesses.

After months of chaotic crazy yelling, fighting, pushing, timeouts, spankings, stress, guilt, apologies, forgiveness and crying, crying, and more crying along with guilt, we got Big tested and discovered our life changer, Leaky gut and food sensitivities. So we changed our diet, then a tornado hit our house and our lives haven't been the same since. We had Big tested a couple more times since the initial blood test and we have then discovered more food sensitivities, chemical in balance and inability to naturally detox.

With the way life was happening, Paul and I keep talking about being intentional. Call it planning, proactive, big picture living, whatever. We call it intentional. We have made plans and ideas and schedules to help us live intentionally.

When we are intentional our lives thrive and relationships deepen. When Paul and I are intentional about our time together, planning for our family, spiritual preparation and execution, we experience real peace. We experience a richness in our lives that comes from setting time aside to prepare for life.

On New Year’s eve, Paul and I made lots of lists. We made schedules and dreams and plans. Our goal is not to fail, nor to feel guilty when things aren’t accomplished, but instead, we want a road map so we know where we are going. We are exhausted of being exhausted and making it up as we go along and always, always being 10 steps behind. We have been living in survival mode for more than a year and its time to start slowing down and digging in to make the most of our lives.

For instance, Paul and I picked one life project to accomplish each month. January was tax and file organization. It’s Feb. 1 and my files are 40% organized and I haven’t touched my tax stuff. But I did organize the kids toys, which is Feb. project. So, I won’t have guilt, I am on a road to success and I promise to have patience with myself.

I will share some of the other fun intentional things that Paul and I have planned in my next few posts, so stay tuned. But in the mean time, I hope you will have time to be patient with yourself as you find ways to be intentional in the way you do life. Find peace, and joy and happiness and faith in the preparation.

True honesty in humlity

I try hard to be honest, to not mislead or misrepresent myself .

I would compulsively lie in High School. I watched it damage my relationship with my parents, friends, co workers, and teammates. I hurt people and scarred myself for life. For years it took an active choice on my part not to lie.

To lie all the time, you have to be constantly aware of the stories you are telling people. It takes up all your brain power and energy to keep all your stories straight. Lying is exhausting. And in the process, you loose yourself.

I hated living like that.

That is why honesty is so important to me now. I don't like to hide things and most of the time I will say what is on my mind. I also never want to appear as something other than what I really am. (I hate the idea that some could look at my facebook photos and think my little family has it all together. Shocker: WE DON'T!!! We are a mess, truly.) I want to be real and transparent. I want people to know they can believe the words that come out of my mouth. I want to be honest. I want to live in truth.

But I am terrible at being honest to myself or about myself.

I have found that as honest as I can be with others, I deeply struggle with being honest with myself about myself. Even more specifically, if being honest paints me in a good light, I really struggle with that.

I was reading the Momastery blog the other day. It is a great sight and was wonderful getting to know the woman behind the blog. As I was reading her story, I was struck that she could say great things about herself when describing herself to us, the reader.

When I found that odd, I realized that if someone asked me to describe myself, I'm not sure how many good qualities I could list. What I would say is, "I am a mess. I'm too lazy to get up early and get dressed most days, I am addicted to TV, I am controlling, I am a secret eater, I don't manage time well, I am an overachiever, I loose good people and friendships in life, I'm too harsh on my kids, I am unbalanced, I'm too hard on myself, I am a perfectionist, I procrastinate, I am forgetful, I don't know contentment, I am a binge spender, I don't do life well, I don't trust God very well, I am a control freak, I live in fear, I don't know AGAPE love. I am a mess."

I see this list and I agree with everything I wrote. You may not or you may excuse some of the things I wrote, but the bottom line is I believe these things about myself. The sad realization is there isn't one good thing on here. It isn't even on my radar to think of something positive about myself, and if I do then it just feels wrong. Saying that feels even worse. Knowing our positive qualities and acknowledging the good in us is a healthy self-esteem.

What's funny is if I was going to list some of my better qualities, I couldn't do it in a concrete way. Sometimes I am thoughtful. I can be patient. I am loyal to friends who live close. I am fun to be with short term.

It's tough and frustrating to know that I have a much unhealthier self awareness than I realize. I thought I was pretty confident and self aware, but I didn't realize that I don't have a very high opinion of myself. I don't say that to beg or illicit compliments, I just wonder if this is true for others.

I wonder if our effort to be humble, we depreciate our value.
In our effort to think of others as better than ourselves, we emotionally sabotage ourselves.

My weakness and shortcomings are apart of me. But that doesn't mean that God doesn't work good in me also. By not acknowledging the strengths, I am discounting the progress God has made in my life. The things he has done through me. The characteristics I want to pass along to my children.

We all possess good and bad. Strength and weakness.

Why is so hard to stand strong in our strengths? By admitting to my strengths does that mean I am then conceited? I think too much of myself? I am now better than others?

I think that is only true if we separate our strengths from our weakness. If we look only to our weakness, then we have an healthy low self-esteem. If we look only to our strengths than we have an unhealthy high self-esteem. When we can see the good, the bad, the ugly, the grace, the strength, the weakness, and Christ in the middle of it all, we are humble. We are humble because we realize for all the weakness, he is there. For all our strength, he is the source.

I wasn't expecting to read Momastery and have this reaction. Clearly I have some work to do in my prayer time this week. I need a healthier self-awareness.

I heard someone say one time it isn't self-esteem, its God-esteem.

I like that.

I have a dream

Thank you Martin Luther King Jr.

Thank you for a being a voice for so many.

Thank you for having a vision and a dream.

Thank you for giving others a vision and a dream.

Thank you for standing up.

Thank you for your faith.

Thank you for acting out in faith.

Thank you for dedicating your life for others to live.

Thank you for being an inspiration.


But I hope that we can live up to your dream. I hope the everyday people of this world can live in your dream and fight for your dream and be a voice for that dream.

I hope that everyday people don't just leave it up to you. Or Bono. Or the Jolie/Pitts. Or President Carter. Or President Clinton. Or missionaries. Or pastors. Or gang leaders. (Yes I believe they are trying to fight for a dream, just in the wrong way, the only way they know how.) Or celebrities. Or government officials. Or NGO's. Or non-profits. Or your neighbor.

I have found that often times I leave the responsibility to make the world a better place or live differently to inspire others, or to truly make a difference up to others. I leave it up to the people who have the money to do it. The time to do it. The education to do it. The desire to give their lives to the cause. I mostly leave it up to others because even though I want things to be better, I don’t know where to start, or I honestly am just too lazy to do it, clinging to all my tried and true excuses.

I believe that what Rev. King was trying to do was empower the average person to live differently. To live outside of their prejudice. To turn away from hate and embrace love. To hold their tongue when only destructive words were going to come out. To pray to the almighty God for strength to change their dark hearts and hard habits. To live in big life changing moments in our ordinary days.

But that takes active participation on our part. We have to engage in being the difference. We have to do our part.

A speaker I heard once said, “The need is the call.” What this meant to me was that all throughout our day we are presented with needs. There are people in our everyday lives who desperately need us to intervene. God needs us to intervene, to be apart of bringing love into this place. Where the prayer says, “Thy kingdom come…” we are able to bring small glimpses, diving moments of the holy into this place. To be apart of the dream.

So I challenge myself…Where in my life can I bring divine moments into ordinary life? Where can I serve my family? Where can I heal my neighbors? What can I do to love a stranger? A co-worker? A kid? The elderly? My enemy. The person I don’t notice?

I want to live in the dream.

I want the dream in my heart.

I want to be an inspiration for others to live the dream.

I want to teach my kids to be the dream.

I wonder

It's funny, I have a thousand things in my head that I want to say, but I'm never really sure what to share with you. I don't know why you read the blog, I don't know what things about our life that mean the most to you.

When so much time goes by, because life is what it is, and I choose my family and cooking over you, I am left with dozens and dozens of things to share from the last few weeks, but I don't know where to start.

I am not a food blog.

I am not a crafting blog.

I am not a parenting blog.

I am not a devotional blog.

I am not a ministry blog.

I am not a political blog.

I am not a reduce, reuse, recycle blog.

I am not a GF blog.


I don't know what I am.


I guess currently, I am having an identity crisis and don't know where to start with you the reader.

Christmas, New Years, traveling, meltdowns, spiritual awakenings, food revelations, recipes, crafts, life, frustrations, speaking at youth events, revelations all have happened in the last couple weeks, but I don't know which piece of this puzzle I call my life that you are interested in.

Most of the time, in true confession, lately, I think I don't really even understand the point of my blog. What is so unique about what happens in my life that is worth mentioning to others? My life feels very normal and similar to so many I know, so why would you want to read about it?

Alright, I feel like putting that out there at least allows me the freedom to just start anywhere.

Unless you can tell me, why do you read my blog?

One of my deepest struggles

You haven't heard from me because the only thing consuming my time is reading the Hunger Games. I don't know what the purpose of the book is. If it was purely a book for pleasure or did the author have a reason for what she wrote about. Did it have to do with how you can't help whom you love, or does it have to do about social justice, government involvement, or moving a generation of younger readers to desire to fight for their own future. I don't know and I haven't spent anytime searching out interviews, because my own reaction is still hard enough to sift through.

If you haven't read the Hunger games, I don't know if I would give anything away really, but you may want to stop reading.

There is an onslaught of emotions in this book and it has stirred up long time feelings in me. I had just come to peace with my life. I had just resolved to be thankful and grateful for this time with my kids when they are young. That although I have a desire to do more, travel and participate in eliminating discrimination, war and hunger with the lack of schools, this is where I need to be right now. My children are only young once and they need our training to be prepared. I could finally accept that raising my children to be aware of these things and to give them a heart for all people is a gift in that fight as well. That in a few short years they will have their own lives to live and my influence and direction only lasts for so long.

As I look at this previous paragraph it makes me chuckle in sarcasm as I think how in the world have I done anything to communicate my heart for less war and selfishness and destruction on our planet. But then I realize it is at the source of why I become unhappy. Because my hidden desire to participate in the fight for the goodness of man is always put away on the back shelf loosing its place in my life to prepare meals, clean up after meals, shop for food for the meals, do laundry, picking up toys, cleaning up spills and trying to raise my kids and see my husband. It makes me feel like a fake saying I care about these things at all because I see no proof of it in my daily life. That statement alone brings me to tears. I feel like a sell out. I feel like a fake. I feel overwhelmed. I wonder where there is time to care about these things when my current life feels overwhelming. Food and the effects of food have overtaken my existence and has left me empty in my desire to help others.

This trilogy brought the injustice of the poor and the downright need to fight against the system slamming into the forefront of my thoughts and my heart. Thoughts I used to have and fights I wanted to fight before that are now covered in dust. It has unsettled me and left me wondering and questioning how I can go forward and which step I take to start participating again in the fight against injustice.

It then becomes my indecision that cripples me from doing anything. I become the thing I speak against and I almost don't know how to fix that. I speak all over the country encouraging students and adults alike to be not be overwhelmed with the whole of the world and its needs, but take it one step at a time, one need at a time, and in that we bring more love into our world truly allowing it to change the hearts of others. Taking my own advice of one small good deed, one need at a time seems small and trite, though I know with my whole soul it is not, I can not fend off the taunting little voice inside me that says I was made to do more.

Maybe it’s a dream or a wish, but I always connect to or want to be the person in the story who was turned into a leader. Who could rally hundreds and thousands of people to the fight against the one who causes the injustice. Or to be the person who could sacrifice everything to stand out and make a difference. I don’t know that I really am that person, but I want to be. I dream I could be. Maybe. Even saying that feels pompous and arrogant, but if I could have a dream, I would want to be the person who inspires others and advocates and fight for a real change that makes the world better for all who live in it.

Some would say it is a question of identity, but I know who I am. It becomes far less about who you are, but it does beg the question, what do I do with who I am? The question plagued Katniss, “What do I do?” How do I respond to all the selfish acts that are destroying people’s lives? Do you sit by or do you act in the rebellion and fight for what is right? How do I help against the systems that destroy people? Systems that keep the poor poor. Take small children and turn them into solders. Take young girls and sell them for sex. Allow women who speak out of turn to be burned as a lesson. Allow poisons to be put in our food and turn us all into cancer patients killing us off slowly. Systems where the rich get richer off the poor mans labor. Where people will lie, steal kill and destroy innocents than to admit they are wrong.

I heard a song yesterday and I just kept singing this one line over and over while I let the tears fall, “Is love alive. Is love alive. Is love. Alive.” Yes I believe that in small ways it is, but what I wept over was truly wondering if love was alive in the government, within the leaders of not only the country but the world. Those making the choices that directly affect us, living under their systems. I believe that answer is no.

My mind has not just been unsettled; it has been at war with itself. My thoughts are consumed around that question, “What do I do?” The hard thing about living in our time of technology is that we are all very well aware of the injustices going on around the world. No you won’t see it on your TV which is overwhelmed with reality television, which is another system I would love to fight, but its there, online, in magazines, and on certain news stations. We can’t claim ignorance anymore.

Can we just sit by or can we do something.

And what is that something.

And can we really pull it off.

I loved the hunger games, but I don’t know what to do with the effects it’s had on me.

DISCLAIMER*** If you know me than you know that I am a big believer in seeing a need and meeting a need and watching how that makes a difference. I support all sorts of local organizations that are feeding the poor, giving clothes to the homeless and counseling and basic needs to VETS, orphans, and single families as well as sick and mistreated people. I support and believe in what meeting people’s immediate needs means to them and to the system. What I want is a bigger fight. I want to see policies change. I want to see government make choices made that are right for people, not for themselves. Not just our country, but each country in his own right. I am coming from a place of being worn down by brokenness. The effects of sin and how it steals life from us has seemed overwhelming as of late.

The telling truth of our ups and downs

Two weeks ago I shared with you some words that God had given to me in my prayer and journal time. I was thankful to see where my weakness was and where sin stilled remained that I didn’t see before. It may sound strange, but I felt so stagnant in my faith that even this was movement. I was finally reaching, searching, wanting, asking for more. Revealing these things allowed me to lay down more of my stuff and see into my bad habits and coping methods to stress and chaos.

This last year has been a tough one for me. Only now am I able to start dissecting all of it. All lot of wisdom can come from hindsight. After my incredible weekend a few weeks ago, I felt revived, and humbled at the moments God gave me. I came home and had an onslaught of tasks, cranky kids, schedules to be managed, commitments to be met, bills to be paid, contractors coming and not coming to work, a new boiler getting put in, and more weekend retreats to prepare for. I didn’t share all that I had experienced with my family because coming home felt like getting down to business.

In this I watched as I let my soul become the stomping grounds to a major spiritual war. Godly things were revealed to me. I could see and hear and understand and was willing to make these small changes in my life because I knew that they would be good for me. I was ready to trust God in the deeper places of my heart and relationships.

When we are poised for spiritual growth, when we are taking risks in our lives and hearts to trust God to be enough for us and we say yes to him, I do believe we need to be aware of the enemy who is striving for our soul. These moments of growth, these moments in our lives, relationships, and ministry where godly things are happening, set the stage for the enemy to attack. Satan does not want growth. The father of lies does not want truth in our ears and hearts. He has no hold on us when we trust the Father, and so he will fight to keep us locked in.

I allowed that to happen to myself for the couple weeks after my incredible weekend. I didn’t see it then, but I see it for what is was now.

This weekend surpassed my weekend previously. I am aware now though of what lies ahead of me when returning home, and instead of turning into my old bad habits of coping with life, I will choose as much as possible to pray, to fight, and to read scripture to pour into my heart the wisdom of God.

It’s hard to do that in the daily grind of life, so if you could, please offer a prayer for me and all those that were at the district gathering in Indy this weekend. My greatest desire is that those high school students would find the courage to fight off temptation and grab hold of all that God has for them.

Things I love...

* Having family come and visit and deepening relationships
* Beautiful days full of sunshine, sunglasses, scarves, and flip flops
* Sharing experiences with my kids that involve pumpkins, racing, and picnics
* Shrimp stir fry
* Bonfires
* Someone doing my dishes
* Someone making my coffee
* Someone making me a drink
* Dates with my husband
* New adventures on my date
* Family snuggle time
* Watching my kids carve their first pumpkins
* Eating pumpkin seeds for the first time of the season
* Time with my Aunt Carol and Aunt Barb, two women who I grew up admiring and loving and watching them love my kids and my kids fall in love with them.
* Middles obsession with collections and small puppies
* Baking with my kids
* Finding recipes that work with our diet so we don't have to sacrifice tradition
* Sleep
* The warmth and smell of fresh clean sheets
* Watching my middle son's love of homeless people, experiencing his choice to introduce himself and find out who they are
* Special time with middle grocery shopping
* Holding hands with my husband
* Giggling with my kids
* Reading stories with my kids
* Praying with my kids
* Conversations with big when he is not under the influence
* Big's tender heart and compassion
* Little's silly dances
* Little's five dimples

This weekend, I was reminded of why I love my Aunt's so much.
This weekend, I fell in love with my kids a little bit more.
This weekend, my heart opened for my husband even more.

It was a good weekend, filled with so many things I love.

(One thing I don't love? Teething. Colds. Buggers. Poop. Crying. There was a lot of that this weekend too.)

Fullfillment

I haven't been out speaking in about six months.

It's been a long time, and I have been able to tell. However, God knew exactly what my life would become and I believe it was intentional. There was no space in my life, my head, or my heart to be a leader to others. To inspire others. To even put normal clothes for others. It wasn't my time.

This past weekend I got to go away to MO to a camp and retreat I have spoken at before. I fly into KC and then drive for three hours down to camp. This not only provided an opportunity to do what I love, but to also reconnect, refresh, and unwind my soul.

I decided to only bring my bible, Thomas Merton's, "No man is an Island" and "The Shack" as reading material. I was hoping, planning, and expecting to get some good time talking and listening and reconnecting with God. My daily life provides a whirlwind of activity and constant cry's out to God, but this was going to be long winded and dedicated time. I was excited and nervous, as I always am when I try to listen as God speaks. He usually has love to pour on me, but I haven't ever come away from time listening to God where I haven't seen some place in my life that could change for the better.

This is what I learned this weekend.

I have noticed how often I pray for wisdom. I pray for myself, my Paul and I as parents and I especially pray it over my children. I want them to be wise in their choices and living. As I was reading scripture in my cabin, I realized while praying over what I was reading that as much as I ask God for wisdom, I am not searching his word for it. When I read scripture most often it is for praise or encouragement or just to read anything to get his word in my heart. I don't intentionally seek it and search it for wisdom. It seems kind of elementary, but God revealed to me that he wants to speak wisdom into my heart and into my parenting, but I need to be reading and searching for his wisdom.

Lesson learned. God was kind as he showed me my missing piece to this puzzle.

The second thing was how often I pray for myself or my issues. This came about in two parts. First, that it would be good to pray not only for myself and my family but for all of those who I love and even those I don't know. I need to be pulled out of my own little life and remember so many others who need to be lifted up in prayer.

The other piece of this is that I often struggle alone, talk to God alone and pray alone over my issues. This leaves out my partner and best friend. After I have struggled with an issue and God has helped point me to an answer, that is when I inform my husband. He usually gets taken off guard and it's hard for him to catch up. I want to remember and need to include in my struggles. But more than that, I want to invite him in the prayer process with me. When we pray, it is most often just for our children and daily strength. I want to pray over things that God is doing in my heart, open our conversation to see what he is doing in our marriage, and if one of us is being led in a specific way, that God would keep us united in that process.

I can't just assume that what God has told me, he has told my husband, unless we are talking and praying together.

Two fundamental foundational practices, but I had forgotten. Time away this weekend, provided the opportunity to reconnect with the basics, and fall in love with the Lord all over again. I mean this in a way of spending quality time with someone, not just frantic, crazed, cry out for help kind of way, even though that is still good, it's not the same.

God has a way of providing what we need to keep taking the next step. One step at a time.

We create our own busy

A few years ago, I was very conscious of people, myself included, always replying to the question, "How are you?" with "Good, but busy."

It was incredible how often that was the response. Busy, busy, busy, busy. We are just so much busier than we used to be. Everyone has so many activities, we are just so busy.

I really hate it. I don't like that phrase, but mostly I don't like how I started to blame busy as if it came into my house and stole time from me. I started treating it like it controlled me and not the other way around.

I didn't like that I was so busy. I didn't like that spur of the moment BBQ with friends could happen the day the idea popped into someones mind. We just had to schedule a BBQ with my husband's band three months out because we were all so busy!

Busy is stealing our lives. Even good busy. Good programs, church programs, school programs, community programs, self serving programs, serving programs, you name it and we just bombarded with options in how to spend our time, except we are a culture that doesn't know how to say no.

My family is no exception. We are busy, except our busy is traveling. We leave a lot. But when me and the kids are home, I try so hard to not be busy. Not that there aren't days where crazy busy happens.

A couple years ago my husband called me out on the fact that I was running our kids out every day to stuff and we weren't creating a space where they could just be. Learn to be bored, learn to think for themselves, create their own games, etc. He knew it was because I had more issues that I didn't want to deal with, and staying busy allowed me to not face my demons. But he was right. And since then, though we fail quite a bit, when we are home, we stay home. We hang out here, create here, fight here, do life here. They are learning chores, and how to manage relationships with each other.

We really like not being so busy anymore. I still need to call my mom and ask her if I should do certain events or what not, and she is my voice of reason, reminding me to slow down.

Until this week, and my old life of crazy busy was here.

This week starting on Sunday, we had our church welcome days, a trip up to a friends cabin, middle started school three times a week this week, I volunteered at big's school one morning, or tried to, we hosted two get together's, I worked one night, had a friend's goodbye dinner, and band practice, and we had a friend's wedding rehearsal and wedding. However amongst all of this is our new life calling of eating almost all raw and nutritional food. So I have to prepare the food we will eat at the wedding, because we can't eat there, make homemade ketchup, cookies, muffins for lunch, eggs and oatmeal every morning for breakfast, and your normal grocery shopping, bank run, laundry, clean the house work. And what's great, is this was the week they started work on our house.

I write that and it feels gross to me. To have commitments every night of the week and some nights, my husband had commitments when I did.

I don't like doing life this way. My life is then consumed with check lists, preparation, clean up, driving, and all of our conversations in the house are how to prepare and get ready for the next thing.

This is not me complaining, because I did this to myself. I didn't get my Bible Study written, so I NEEDED to do it before the deadline. I hosted two parties in a week where we had a wedding. I didn't put anything on my calendar and then said yes to everything.

Everything this week are good things. And some you have to do, but most of it, I could have planned better to say, we only want one commitment a week. We have little kids and we want play time. Down time. Life time.

Some people like being busy. That is fine, because that is how they thrive.

I like living at a slower pace. I have time to pay attention to life, and to my children, and my husband and to my other relationships. Cause this week, I haven't had any time to do the things I love. Bible study, calling friends, bike riding, getting down on the floor and playing with my kids.

When you are busy, your life becomes consumed with getting prepared for the next thing instead of enjoying the moment you are in.

Here's to making better choices and living in the moment you've been given.

I want to choose better next time.

A bit of crazy

It's funny, the last few weeks, even months have been about preparing Big for school. When the day finally came and he left the house, I walked back in to two peaceful kids playing quietly. They played that way for over an hour.

On more than one occasion I stood in the middle of my living room and thought, what do I do with myself? I started to realize that I will have time. Not a ton of time still with two children at home, but more time than I am used to, and I had no idea what to do with myself.

My mind was filled with random thoughts and questions and emotions and fears and excitement. If you called me at any point, my answer was different every time I answered the phone. I have no idea how to do life right now.

Last week was the first time I felt like I could really breathe. Not just for a few moments maybe, but for a whole day. I started to feel like I could do life again.

Now the rules of the game have changed again and I don't know what I'm doing anymore.

We have a strict morning and night time routine. I have lunches I need to prepare and uniforms that have to be clean. A whole new ball game indeed.

Today I felt incomplete without Big.
I was excited to have two kids which is much easier to manage.
I didn't know what to do.
I was hoping Big was good and happy and behaving.
I was sad about having such little time during each day with him.
I thought to myself, I could actually get stuff done!!!
I wandered aimlessly around.
I cried over the fact that my son has started the process he will be in till he leaves my house.
I cried scared that all my fears for his choices will drive him away.
I snuggled and giggled and tickled my daughter who belly laughed the whole time.
I watched a cartoon with middle.
I took my two little ones out to lunch.
I missed my son who has been with me almost every day of life.
Today felt like breaking up with someone.
I was reminded that my children are a HUGE part of my life, but NOT my life.
I remembered that it is the goal of every parent to raise children who will leave the house and develop their own life.
I remembered that as parents you give your best to your children so they can make their own choices and mistakes and find love and grace and forgiveness in you and the Lord.
I was scared that my example of being a Christian won't be enough for Big to choose God in comparison to what else is out there.
I was scared for all the things that will hurt my son.
I was excited for all the fun things my son will discover.
I prayed and hoped for amazing friends.
I desire wisdom and fear doubt.
I was happy.
I was sad.
I was lonely.
I was lost.
I was free.
I was confused.

I'm tired of feeling all these things. I wish being a parent was easier, or my ability to really let go of my issues was complete. I've let them go before and felt peace. But I have found that if I don't continue to lay down my fears, they will come back and control me again.

Step by step, day by day, God will be enough and we will figure this out.

Now time for bed so I can do it all over again, but maybe a little less wandering around my house. My kids might start getting worried.

Choices

My husband and I have had lots of choices laid before us lately. At least it feels like more than normal. It's interesting to watch how we make choices and got me thinking about how others make choices.

Here's one choice I have struggled with, been at war with, and has been all consuming for about two years.

Homeschooling vs. traditional school.

Here's what I need you to know. I am not looking for your opinion, guidance, or thoughts on which one is better or which one we should do. I do not need the pros and cons for each side. I don't need to know which one you favor. In truth, it has nothing to do with what you think, the research you have, or how strongly you feel one way or the other. I believe with my whole my heart it has everything to do with how faithful my husband and I are to listening and trusting God with what is right for our family.

It's interesting for me to even be writing about this because I used to have very strong feelings against homeschooling. I am sorry if this statement offends you, but that is where I was at. I thought it was terrible that so many Christian families were pulling their kids out of the schools. The place where we need to be more than ever. I thought it went against God's call for us to live out our faith where we are. To be a light to the lost, etc.

Then two summers ago, I was speaking at a youth camp and when I was out for my morning run I was praying and all of a sudden I felt something very strongly towards homeschooling and started to think about it is a viable option for my kids. To say I was stunned and confused is an understatement. I had no idea what to do with what I was feeling, and the feelings wouldn't go away. Later that week I decided to call my mom. I usually do that if I need to process something and talking to God felt very confusing since I had no idea how to process what I was hearing and feeling.

So the war in my mind, body and soul started. I was terrified of homeschooling and so I kept it my little secret for some time. I couldn't dare say it out loud because then I might actually have to do something with it. I fought it. I prayed about it. I read about it. I cried over it. I obsessed over it. I cried some more about it.

God was changing my heart. My very stubborn, hard, judgmental heart. I had previously judged homeschooling very harshly, and now God was breaking my attitude. He was calling me to obedience to search his truth. He was calling me to let down my walls and see something beautiful. He was calling me to open my heart to see that there is more than one right way to raise your children. God was freeing me of judgment.

I think freedom from judgment is one of the most beautiful gifts to ever be received. It allows us to see people, issues, and life outside of our own preconceived ideas and opinions. It allows for more grace and compassion towards our fellow man kind instead of their misdeeds against the institution we believe in.

Here's one problem with me. I have many, many issues, but for the sake of this already long blog, we will stick to this one main issue. I am the first to admit that I am a person who loves to do what she wants. I want to eat so I will. I want to do this, so I will. I don't want to work out, so I won't.

I live on my will. But my will changes all the time. And my will is based on my feelings.

You should hear my prayers, most of the time I cry out to God to hear his voice above my own, and usually it is where doubt plaques me. I start to doubt if I am doing what I am doing because its what I want, or because I know it is what God wants.

Another thing you should know about me is that when I am pregnant, I am emotionally stunted. It kind of has turned into a joke with those who are close to me. It is also how I knew I was pregnant this last time. My husband was sharing something with me that constituted at least a little bit of feeling from me, and I had nothing. I could care less. He saw my blank expression and at the same time, we both knew. I was pregnant. I live this way for nine months, struggling to stir up any kind of emotion, and then for about a year after the baby is born, I can't stop crying over the littlest of things.

My daughter is now 18months old, and so that means for the last two years of this war within myself, I have been emotionally stunted and emotionally unstable. Most of the time, I just have had no idea how to gauge who I am or what is real or not real inside of me.

So I finally had the courage to tell my husband, who I knew was not a big fan of homeschooling, what I was wrestling with. We talked about it and decided that I should home school the boys for a year and research schools in Mpls to know what our options were. I wanted to check into schools because much like homeschooling before, I was casting lots of judgments on a program and a system I didn't know anything about. I hadn't stepped inside an elementary school since I went to one, and yet, was acting like the devil himself had taken charge of them.

So I went and researched dozens of schools and visited half a dozen. We applied at three just to see what happened and to really get an idea of what our options really were.

About this time is when Big was off the charts crazy angry and I was crying all day every day, calling my mom three times a day begging for help. Desperately seeking prayers and answers and guidance. I was drowning under the pressure of three highly active, determined, passionate, stubborn children. We had no rhythm to our daily lives. I take that back, survival was our goal and what drove all of our decisions. I would strive for some sort of schedule, but discipline, guidance and correction would overtake all else.

It was a rough year. The roughest since my mild depression after my second was born and it was my first year as a stay home mom wrestling with my identity and who I was now that I wasn't working.

I felt lost. I felt like the worse version of myself. I was letting everyone around me down with communication and expectations I had of myself. I didn't know to live very well. And here I wasn't just struggling; I was deeply affected with this decision of homeschooling vs. traditional schooling for my family.

If you spend any significant time with me, you will soon realize that I don't really debate. I don't argue, and I don't take a stand on many issues. Most often, right or wrong, I can see and understand both sides of the issue. If you are going to argue a point, I get it and can agree with you. But often, I can see the other side and understand the reasoning, especially if it is an issue not of right or wrong, but of difference.

Schooling in my opinion is an issue of difference. I do believe with my whole heart that God blesses homeschooling and traditional schooling. I believe it is a matter of what is right for each individual family.

My issue is that I deeply see the benefits of homeschooling and traditional school.

What I love about homeschooling is the slower pace to life. More time with my kiddos to have hands on life experience and "field trips". To continue to guard and protect their hearts. To teach them what they need to know all in the context of God as provider, protector and King. To protect their innocence as long as possible. To move them past so much of the social struggles and instill a deeper maturity. To allow them to be kids longer, play more, and learn at their own pace. I know there is more, my list is long, but right now, the words escape me.

What I love about traditional schooling is allowing my son to grow into himself outside of me and his siblings. To learn things I can't teach him; to learn authority from others and follow more structure. To struggle with the way others do life and then come home and allow us to help him make choices and walk through those issues with him. It allows him the ability to make a choice about his faith on his own. It allows me a bit of time to spend with his siblings and get to know them more intimately. Again, there is more to my list, but not in my head.

There are also cons, but not necessary to discuss right now. I also bring a big set of fears into both issues. Can I be enough to my kids if I'm all they have? What if my child discovers another set of rules, faith, way of living inside school and chooses that instead? Do I want us to live a life that is filled with "busy"? Just because it’s what everyone says you should do, do you do it? What if we've made the wrong choice?

Through the course of the last couple months I have been settled into sending our son to Chinese Immersion School. This is an incredible opportunity for him to learn about the world. To study language and have a mind for language which is a huge gift considering how large his world will be with internet and the global job market. It will aid him in loving, understanding others and keeping judgment on the differences between people at bay. This is a rare gift.

Then I started to struggle with home school again. The first time I deeply prayed over it, I realized I wanted to home school because I thought I could control my children's salvation. I thought I could guarantee they would be saved and they would want a relationship with me and be different than all the teenagers I speak with at youth events.

My desire to home school was solely based on fear and a non-existent trust in God.

Now my desire to home school was for all the benefits that home school offered. This was very different. But I wasn't just looking at traditional schooling vs. homeschooling; I was looking at a rare wonderful opportunity of an immersion school for my son.

It was great option 1 vs. great option2. The need to decide was heavy on my heart. Killing my concentration, and consuming my thoughts. What should I do?

I was terrified to pray about it afraid that God would tell me to home school. If he told me to home school, could I do it? I would be divided against my husband on the issue and that was not tempting to me. What if I failed? What if I heard wrong? What if I took an amazing gift of Chinese immersion away from my son and it was the wrong choice?

So I stepped slowly into praying about it. I tiptoed in. Scared and being honest with God about where I was at, but confident He had an answer for me. Then, I slowly heard, this is your choice right now. For right now, it’s your choice. What do you want to do?

Then I got upset and a little ticked off. How dare He! If he told me to home school or go to immersion school than at least I had him to blame for my choice. I needed a scapegoat, and he wasn't giving me one.

If it was my choice, and the pro and con list was equal on both sides, how does one decide?

How do you make choices in your life? How do you choose between two really good things? How do you know what the right answer is?

For me, I wept. Every night for over a week, I went to bed early to read, journal and pray. Mostly I just wept in honest confession about all my fears, confusion, and tiredness. I confessed I was exhausted from this war. I needed an answer. I couldn't trust myself. I begged and pleaded to God to grant me peace so I could hear his voice and make a decision.

His peace did come. I did find rest. And it didn't come in the pro's and con's list. It didn't come with the knowledge of the benefits or fears for either side. It came in being faithful to listen to God and hear his voice. It came in trusting Him to be enough no matter what the decision.

I also realized that my son will not face the enemy in all the ways I fear in Kindergarten. I realized that now is probably not the time for me to make such a choice, and for now, we keep him in this amazing opportunity of immersion school. This will allow him time to grow into himself. This will allow me time to be with my other two. This will allow me time to breathe, slow down a little, and pray some more. It will allow me time to let go of some of the control I imagine I have over my children's souls and futures.

Mostly it will allow time to bring healing, answers, and hope for our choice. This choice is not for forever. We are taking it year by year, and we choose tradition school for this year. I am usually peaceful about this choice. But the first day of school brought back my fears, sadness and awareness at the weight of how big going to school is.

My son is a kindergartener at Chinese Immersion School in Minneapolis and he loves it. This is apart of his story and God will bless it. I can’t wait to see how he will teach us all, stretch us, guide us, and daily bring us into his grace and mercy. For all my control issues, I will be reminded continuously that there is only one who knows all.

But if I could pick one superhero power, it would be hindsight.

tension

I believe all we have is the result of what God has given us. He is the giver of all good things, and the one responsible for all we have. What we have been given is ours to share with those around us. What we have been blessed with, we use as a blessing to others. I believe this with my whole heart.

Then, there is the side of me that really struggles as I watch the the neighborhood kids play rough with our swing set. Take bits of it apart and damage it. I watch them come to our backyard and grab the scooter to ride it without asking. I watch them walk right through our front door without knocking and look at me and say, "I wanted to play with the skateboard." The first thing out of one of the kids mouth on our block is, "Can I have some apple slices or peanuts and raisins?"

It's just take, take, take. Then I am robbed of the blessing of giving. It starts to turn my heart cold and distant because I don't feel seen as a person. Who we are and what we posses gets taken advantage of. What's even harder is I know that this may be the only time this kid gets fruit for the day, and I want to bless him with that, but my attitude has been hard to deal with lately.

It was interesting after the tornado, everyone was taking. Wires down? Take them and get money for it. Metal, copper, fences, wood, you name it, people were coming in to take it and get what they could for it. I understand this place. You have to fight for every thing you have and if you aren't fighting for it, than you will end up without enough. It's a scrappy little world we live in here in N. Mpls. (As I assume it is the same in other places as well.)

At some point only so much can be taken from you until you grow numb to it.

Today while I was preparing dinner, I watched out my back window as this truck pulled up and a gal got out and started digging through my compost bin and garden. She started harvesting my summer squash. I'm not a big one for confrontation, especially in the ghetto, but I had hit my limit of people just taking from me. I had this overwhelming feeling of surprise that someone would be so confident to just take and harvest someone else's garden in broad daylight. Who does that? I was ticked and offended and hurt.

I walked outside.

I repeatedly said Hi as I walked up to this young gal with her mother looking on from the driver's seat. Turns out it was Rachel, a great lady I met who lives down our block. I met her after the tornado and we chatted even more on national night out at our block party. She felt really bad as I greeted them in the alley.

Here Rachel thought she was harvesting our abandoned neighbor's veggies. (which is a little weird since its directly in our yard, but whatever.) Her daughter quickly gave over the summer squash and apologized and then I felt bad for all the things I was thinking and feeling. They didn't want such great food to go to waste, so they were making sure it got used. Rachel looked at me and said, "I hope you never get to the point of needing to harvest strangers yards for food."

Compassion pulled at my heart. I want all we have to be a blessing to others. On the other hand, fruits and veggies are the primary thing my family eats. Growing our garden vegetables is our most economic way of making it work financially. We need that food. And yet, here was someone who was desperate enough to scrounge in a compost bin and garbage almost. I was humbled, and so we shared. We kept a squash, and they took a squash.

I still don't like being taken from. I would wish to give instead.

In the end, the difference is knowing someones story. They most likely function in a different set of rules and guidelines, and we have the opportunity to invite them into ours. A way of love, blessings, and giving.

Mostly I pray that God can resolve the tension in my heart to be one of trust. To trust him enough to let go, to defend when needed, and to give always.

worst mom ever!

We joke that middle is our magnet head. He seems to always incur the hurt, scrape, bruise, bloody torment. Rough is his middle name.

What's odd is that he is the only one in our family unscathed at the moment.

Three days ago, middle had an incident with little coming off a bunk bed. Little bit her tongue, and the inside and outside of her lip. There was a brief moment of potential stitches. The bleeding finally ceased and it looked like we were in clear. Two cuts instead of all the way through her lip.

Whew, we got away with that.

Then two days later while the boys were acting as secret agents and were looking for a place to hide, Big was crawling on the floor and smashed his face into the corner of the table. (Guess those table edgers are worth something.) I didn't think it was anything, then I saw the blood seep through his hands. His cry told me it was bad, but when he pulled his hands away and I could see muscle through his skin on his forehead above his eyebrow, I threw up a little in my mouth. He was screaming and we got him cleaned up, called dad, got the kids in the car, said a prayer and got two stitches. Big did amazing! No crying while they stitched him up. He breathed like we taught him to and I was one proud mama. (except for the fact that my other children were dissecting all other medical tools while I was trying to take care of big.)

So now I have a child with a scraped nose and cut lip and one with two stitches above his eye. Tonight we went to Big's family picnic to meet his teacher and other classmates. It was going great. Out on the playground I let little run far from me as she pushed our stroller exploring the area, and as she climbed to heights way past her age, but heights that she has mastered and can control. She is physically far beyond her age and thrives on adventure. Then I lost sight of Big and picked up little to go find him.

I had her in my arms, and then I felt it. I jammed my toe on a lip in the sidewalk and I was falling. I'm crying even as I write this. I watched my daughter fall/fly/or get dropped out of my arms as I fell to the ground. The image of her face breaking her fall will forever remain in my mind.

She flew right to the ground and right on her face. I couldn't breathe. I watched her climb and run and slide and she was safe. Then in my arms where she should be safest, I crushed her face. All I could think was, her nose has to be broken and her teeth missing. My daughters face just broke her fall. I scooped her up and there were cuts, scratches and bruises already forming. Her lip was fat and there was blood there. I picked her up and turned in a circle twice trying to figure out what to do. I sat on a bench and just held her and cried my eyes out.

Yes that was me on my son's first introduction to his school and all his new friends and teachers. His mom dropped his sister on the concrete and cried like a baby. All I could do was cry. The last thing any parent wants is their child hurt, and now I had done the hurting, even by accident.

Two mothers came up to me immediately and comforted me and little, getting the school nurse. They were kind and full of compassion telling me it happens to everyone. I doubt that, but their kindness eased my pain as I held her and tried to ease little's pain.

I don't want to post pictures because there is something in me that tells me that I shouldn't. Little's right side of her face has scrapes and bruises and a fat lip. There are no broken bones or missing teeth. She will heal just nicely and in a few days. Granted I shouldn't take her out in public until then though. People might be suspicious. After about an hour she was back to her more normal self that we were expecting. Big is doing amazing with his stitches and you can't even tell. My toe is fat and swollen and it hurts. Every time I feel it throb, I think, I almost broke my daughters face.

The scrapes and scars will go away, but my heart right now feels very wounded at all the pain that was in my house the last few days.

I guess the Tietjen's aren't safe anywhere right now. Please stay away from us, and when you read this, feel better about the kind of parent you are to your children. For some reason the hospital let us take ours home. Oh dear.

Rhythm and Discipline

My life is in serious need of these two things right now. We are feeling the very negative effects of vacation and lazy days of summer.

My life is lacking rhythm. I take that back, there is always rhythm to life, but I'm not a fan of how mine looks right now. It's all reactive and none of it is proactive. All I do is play catch up and I don't want to plan our days so we are busy. We've been busy this summer and I want us to just wake up, do our morning routine and then find adventure in our yard or house or whatever. I like the idea of days on end with nothing on the calendar, but it's not working for us. I need something on the calendar or I need to make a fun activity feel impromptu but have it already planned for the kids.

When I'm already tired and there's nothing on the calendar, I get lazy. Down right, look at the house and ignore it lazy. I start disengaging with my children because they pose so many demands on me and then I grow tired by the minute.

I'm tired of eating baby carrots, grapes and banana's but too tired to cook.

When my rhythm of life is out of whack, I lack discipline to do the healthy habits that make me feel alive and ready for life. Eating right, exercising, showering regularly, sleeping, reading scripture. I haven't had the discipline for any of these life building activities, but that is going to change. I can't keep going on like this. I need to be proactive in changing the rhythm of my life.

These are my goals:

Wake up every morning at 6am before the kids and three days a week go for a run. The other four days to read and journal and pray. My soul is parched and in dire need of refreshment.

Stick to a strict bedtime of 1030pm. 11pm if Paul is home.

Create a chore schedule so that I don't feel overwhelmed and can tackle just one job a day.

Create one fun puzzle or game or activity for the kids and I per day.


That's all I can commit to right now. I have grand ideas of meal planning again, coupon clipping, pre making meals and freezing them, but frankly I can't think that much still. I'm still trying to survive and hoping just these few things will help.

A toast to better rhythm and bedtime soon! Yay!

Expectations

(Here is a short little bit I wrote while in the black hills of SD.)



It never fails. I always have them even when I try really hard not to.

This is our third year attending family camp at Outlaw Ranch in SD and we love it! Paul does music for the week and we get to tag along. We try to prepare, we enjoy the ride out and do all sorts of adventures during the week.

This year has proved to be a year of unvoiced, unknown, unmet expectations.

We have three kids this year which has proved a whole different ball game. A harder one at that too.

Here is a list of all the things I wasn’t expecting that has changed our experienced here at camp:

The boys having friends here that they have seen the last three years and wanting to play with them instead of us.

Our family sitting alone at a table because of our dietary needs, having a baby and generally just being really loud messy eaters makes us unapproachable to strangers.

Having a baby that needs to nap during our family outing time.

Heading to the cabin for bed time while the rest of camp sets off to campfire. (one of my favorite things ever!)

It being 110 degrees so our family can’t go out and enjoy the hundreds of hiking trails along the way.

Wanting ice cream and not being able to have it.

Being in a cabin far from the bathroom and having children that need to use it multiple times in the middle of the night and day.

Paul and I thinking it was a family vacation but only seeing each other to pass off children or responsibility. Our famous line is, “tag you’re it”.

Paul’s grandfather passing away this morning.

Forgetting to bring pillows and sheets for Paul and I, because apparently we only think about what the kids need. Blankets and clean clothes work wonders for a pillow.

Thinking I would have tons of time to read while I stay in the cabin with children, and instead being so tired I just sleep.

Thinking that all my expectations would be met.

What I have to come to realize is that if you have expectations, they will get you every time. They will disappoint you, level you and leave you feeling empty and hurt and sad.

When we live in expectations we only see what we want to see and only expect others to live the way we demand them to. When they don’t live up to our expectations, then we are left disappointed and we can no longer see truth, only hurt.

Camp started out rough. Letting go of expectations and accepting our week for what it was and my children for who they are and not who I want them to be.

After letting go of my expectations, the week was amazing.

The Tutors

I am currently slightly addicted to the Showtime TV show, The Tutors. OK, I lie, I am REALLY addicted to it. If you get past the flesh of the show, it just gets me thinking about so many things, the primary one being the station of women.

To be given in marriage with no consent.

To be given into an affair with the blessing of your father to further your family's standing.

To watch your husband have elicit affair after affair and you can only sit by and watch because if you have an affair, there is no way to prove that the child you carry is your husbands which is critical for survival.

If you can't bear a son, you are nothing.

You are rendered useless once you have born a son. You have done your job and there is now no use for you.

You are not seen for who you are, but for what pleasure you can bring a man.

The woman has no voice, no vote, no opinion, no say.

If you were born a girl and not a boy, there was immediate disappointment. You were unwanted right from your birth.

My free American brain can not conceive these ideas, these limitations, this slavery.

I have an opinion about almost everything.

I have an avenue for my voice to be heard in multiple arena's.

I met a man and fell in love and got the joyous opportunity to marry him by choice.

My heart is saddened and heavy when I watch period pieces. It makes me so grateful, and thankful and indebted to all the men and women who fought for me to have this voice. All the time, energy, money, and lives that were sacrificed for me to have this voice.

It also makes me very aware that there are thousands of women who still live in prison.

Who have no voice.

Who have no choice.

Who have no one to listen.

Please pray for all the women and children and men who live in emotional, social, and political prisons.

OK, now I have to continue watching the next episode. I just can't help myself.

Birthday

Today was my birthday and I love my birthday. In my house growing up, you were celebrated on your day. Everyone shared Christmas and Easter, but birthday's were yours and yours alone.

Today I felt so very celebrated. My kids woke me up singing. I heard "Happy Birthday" at least 12 times today. I got 32 colored pictures, a room decorated in "fun" and a song made up just for me. I got to take a walk around the lake with friends, enjoy a delicious lunch, drinks, and treats. In the evening, I got to go out to dinner with a small group of friends where we enjoyed the view from the rooftop seating area. We closed the evening with dessert and coffee and laughs.

One of my favorite things to do on birthday's is tell the birthday person your favorite thing about them. I have often found that the people closest to you are the ones that don't hear your good opinion of them. We rarely express our deep appreciation and love and respect for those we love the most. This is what makes this little tradition so fun. My brother in law got married years ago on my birthday and my three closest girl friends pulled me outside of the reception and gave me the gift of their love and appreciation of my life. It was the best gift I ever received. To have the women I respect the most share their high opinion of me, deepened our friendship and made me desire to strive to be the person they saw in me.

If I get to celebrate a birthday with you, most likely I will demand to shower you with this gift. Last year I was in Haiti with my dad and 15 other people, and it was amazing playing this little game on the bus on our way to the work site. I saw people dig deep and get real and share their love and appreciation for my father. I witnessed him get uncomfortable and shy at the love that was being poured out on him. I watched him start to see how much he meant to all of those around him. He would never have known without us forcing ourselves to be vulnerable and share how we really feel. I now don't have to worry ever that I never got a chance to share with my dad all that he means to me.

Tonight my heart is full by how much love was poured out on me. I feel overwhelmed by God's grace in my life, by the richness and quality of people that are in my life. I wonder how I got here, and most of the time don't feel I deserve it, but I make you this promise; I do not take for granted the gift of the people in my life. I will work to honor those around me with my life. I will live to give God glory so that others may know that God can use anyone to share love and change the world.

I encourage you, when it's someones birthday, take the tradition and start loving on the people around you. Do they know what they mean to you? Do they know what value they have and the qualities that make them strong and admirable? Don't wonder, make sure they know. They will never forget that gift.