Some Updates before Christmas

First,

Since most of my family, save but maybe those down under, has gotten my Christmas cards, here are our family pictures:
 The men are a wee bit serious...
 And the girls are a wee bit silly...
Very appropriate!


Second,
I got my ear warmers for Kerrington's Christmas completed! This makes me happy. My friend is headed out tonight to give homeless the gift of warmth... praying they feel the warmth not only from the keep-you-warm items like gloves, hats and scarfs, but also in their hearts by the love of all who donated and/or are spending their time tonight handing gifts out. A big "thank you" and "good job" to all the real warmth-givers everywhere!

Some pictures:

 The purple rose seemed special and pretty, so I gave this one to my friend. She needs one too! :)
 I put 2 buttons on these ones so that they could be adjustable.
Can you guess my favorite? The giant yellow double bow! I have been in love with it since I first saw it on deliacreates. Didn't think yellow could work with my white skin tone, but I think it does. Score! I feel like you can help but smile when you see this (if from nothing else, then from the sheer audacity it takes to wear a giant yellow bow atop one's head). I like making people smile.
Guess who has her fingers crossed for enough time to make one for herself for Christmas? Hey, I need a Christmas gift too! Ha!

Third,
My son is officially a sitter.
Isn't my son a looker?! I so LOVE my little man. By the way, "I am the walrus. CooCooKaChoo" That caricature of a walrus on his one piece makes me sing that song every time. Your welcome for getting that one stuck in your head. Ha!

Lastly,
And hopefully most obviously,
It's almost Christmas! Yay! I will see you after the holiday.
Wishing you a seriously wonderful Christmas!
Amanda

Making Christmas "Monumental"

Read a couple chapters from Exodus through Deuteronomy in the Bible (or the Torah) and keep a look out for the words like monument, memorial, sign and the like and you may notice that God has a whole lot to say to the Israelites about doing things for a sign or as a memorial. Maybe you aren't to keen on the Bible or at least not what many consider to be the driest passages in the Bible, but I think there is a principle to be learned here. So track with me for a moment.

If you read this passage of Scripture, in addition to words synonymous with memorial, you will also find that the Israelites complain A LOT. God does something major for them like miraculously part the Red Sea and obliterate their enemy and two chapters later they are complaining to the same God. To their credit, while they may sound like major complainers, those two chapters contains the span of 30 days. Not long, but having had terrible bouts of morning sickness, it can definitely take me less than 30 days to get over the miracle of conception and the wonder and awe of holding life in my belly to the point where I loathe pregnancy, my husband, and all the putrid smells that surround me (I exaggerate, but I do definitely begin to complain after 30 days straight of puking.). I suppose I imagine this to be somewhat equivalent to life in the wilderness with limited resources and with the same people day in and day out. However, it seems that in most circumstances the better I remember the blessings and the overcoming of past obstacles, the easier time I have getting through my present circumstances and the easier time I have holding on to Joy. Complaining, in addition to making you terrible company to be around, sucks the life and Joy right out of you.

I think God knew how difficult it would be to not complain when He numerous times tells the Israelites to make monuments, turn a day into a celebration and do things as a sign or for a memorial. He knew they would want to complain. He knew they would need to remember. 

My Christmas tree has become my Monument. When I first got married, I wanted a Christmas tradition that was all my family's own. I decided that every year we would pick out one ornament as a family. It's really a simple tradition, but I love it. Every year, we set out to find THE ornament that best says what the year has been about. Sometimes it's a day trip, sometimes it's just during a mall trip, and sometimes it's found on a family vacation. While the finding is fun, my favorite part is pulling out the ornaments from past years and remembering and sharing with my daughter what each ornament is from. Each ornament has a story. Each ornament is a monument of what God has done for us.

Our first Christmas together, we found our ornament on our honeymoon. It reminds me of the beginning, the first, and my love for my husband. I remember the memories my husband and I made on our honeymoon.

This year's ornament celebrates the biggest event of 2011, the birth our son. We call him Jedi sometimes so Yoda seemed very appropriate. "When 900 years old you reach, look as good, you will not." --Yoda
Everytime I see this ornament I can't help but burst into song "There can be miracles, when you believe... Who knows what miracles you can achieve..." Not the biggest fan of Mariah Carey so this ornament drives me slightly crazy (actually to be more accurate it drives my husband a little crazy, don't know of many men that want Mariah stuck in their head), but it so says what our 2010 was all about. We had wanted a second child so badly but knew we couldn't afford it, nor had much room for it in our tiny studio apartment. God got onto me for not trusting Him with my life, my husband and I prayed and felt like God wanted us to try even though we had no idea how we would afford another child, and a month after the "plus" sign appeared on the stick, my husband got a great job flung onto his lap out of the blue and a month after that the perfect apartment became available. We trusted God not knowing what the future would hold and God did a miracle for us. I think keeping this in mind is what kept me full of joy during the second pregnancy as the toilet and I became close companions for the second time.

I think its so easy to get caught up in life happening: juice stains in carpet, birthday parties, meal planning, and the debate of how to best discipline your child to name a few. I think it's important for our kids and for our own sanity to pause and reflect every now and again. I know I want my kids to know me and who I am day in and day out and the Joy and Love that I attempt to carry with me at all times (or at least most of the time), but I also want them to get that the art of gratitude isn't a just a daily desicion it is also found in the monuments I make... the ways that I set time and items aside for God and His Glory. I have a much easier time keeping keeping Joy and Gratefulness a way of life when I pause every now and again and reflect on the many things I have to be grateful for.

I love that Christmas falls so close to the New Year. For me, it ends up being a season of reflection and gratitude. I love looking back and remembering just as much as I love looking forward to the next year. Perhaps you haven't experienced God like I have, but this girl knows with every fiber of her being that God has been good to her and with much or with less in good times or bad I will be Joyful. I will make monuments of the obstacles I and my family has overcome, the blessings we have received, and pray God gives me a tree with 55 ornaments and great grand kids to tell of God's goodness throughout my life.

Wishing you a MONUMENTAL Christmas!

Kerrington's Christmas

I have a friend. She is one of those people that are instantly disarming. You don't want to put on airs, you don't want to fake it, you can just be yourself. I love people like that. I love my friend!

My friend and me at a women's conference
She is a Champion. Last year I received an email from her. It made me cry. I don't have the email anymore, and she wasn't able to resend it to me. But, I do have her permission to convey the overall message of her email in my own words. (By the way, to avoid confusion, I am writing in my own voice.)

On September 11, 2003, my friend experienced the worst day of her life. She lost her precious baby, Kerrington, only a couple of days old. My friend had and has always wondered what birthdays and Christmases would be like if Kerrington were here. I am sure that more than anything her heart cries out to spend a Christmas with her Kerrington, to experience the warmth, wonder, and love a child brings to this holiday.

Instead of spending her Christmas just missing and just wondering, last year she decided to do something. She realized that, while she may be missing the warmth and love of her daughter, there are those living on the streets who have absolutely no warmth and no love for Christmas. In honor of her daughter, she started "Kerrington's Christmas." Last year, and again this year, she collects blankets, hats, and gloves and then heads out to give them to the homeless.

I don't know if this moves you, but it surely pulls at my heart strings. I love that even though Kerrington's life was short, she gets to make an impact, she gets to love others. I know her momma is missing her love and her touch, but how inspiring is it that my friend is making a way for Kerrington and herself to love and touch the lives of the broken and the down-and-out!? I am proud of you, friend, and inspired by your strength!

In the midst of falling in love with some very fashionable ear warmers and discovering how easy and inexpensive they are to make, I decided to make some for Kerrington's Christmas. I plan on making a batch and then going back and embellishing as many as I have time for. Practical thinking: the homeless need warmth more than fashion. This girl's thinking: How fun would it be to pour love into each piece and let some homeless women feel beautiful and more current than their salvation-army finds?! (By the way, I am not knocking the Salvation Army! They are awesome!) I know after spending time with the homeless that, yes, they need food, shelter and clothing, but they also somehow missed the message of hope that they too are beautiful through the lens of Christ's love.

If you want to see the couple of ear warmers I have made thus far, click here. If you want to help Kerrington's Christmas by way of monetary donation or by way of blankets, ear warmers, hats or gloves, please contact me via email and I will send you the information.

Wishing us opportunities to Love during this season! xoxo

Looking Back: Wedding Day!

Sometimes you look at your wedding album and it feels like it happened just yesterday.

Sometimes you look at your wedding album and it feels like an entire lifetime ago. Today, it feels like my wedding didn't happen in my lifetime. Michael has changed jobs 11 times in less than 4 years (Only 2 of those times was it by choice... and he has never been fired. Perhaps, this economy has been a bit rough on us, but then it seems like it's been rough on a lot of people...). We have moved 4 times in less than 4 years. We had a miscarriage. We have brought 2 children into the world.  We've vacationed a few times. A whole lot of set-backs and triumphs... life seems full of them, and some seasons of life seem to hold more than others.

Since this weekend we celebrate 6 years of marriage, I want my wedding day to feel like it was just yesterday.

And so...

I pull out the pictures. I look back.

Michael and I had known each other for 5 years prior to dating. We were friends. Not close ones. Just friends. We went to church together and served in the youth group together. He was one of my brother's closest friends. I was the girl who broke his friend's heart. It's not that we didn't like each other, we just didn't think of each other.

Then...

He asked me out for a burger.

I didn't even get the burger with him. But that proposition changed everything. Michael was now at the forefront of my life. It's a story for another time (a good one too... I think it makes the story of Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe pale by comparison... but then I might be a little biased. It is my love story after all).

So here's the very short version: We dated for a month. We were engaged for 3 months. We fell in love, hard and fast. Perhaps the short span of courtship time just convinced you of my craziness, but I haven't regretted it for a single moment. Sometimes you just know.

We knew.

Enter November 13, 2005. It was a Sunday. We chose Sunday because, well, when you are planning a wedding in 3 months on a tight budget, you take what you can get. The sun was shining, the air was brisk. Maybe it's cliche, but it really was a beautiful fall day.
I remember putting the dress on and the tears my mom cried. Good thing she bought the super-duper water-proof mascara. My mom cried a lot. I love you mom!

My husband bought his groomsmen air soft guns for gifts. Not very traditional, or sentimental for that matter. But I don't think most guys care about all that.

I remember the anticipation, stepping out onto the first day of the rest of my life, knowing my life would never be the same. (In fact, there was so much "anticipation"... I literally showed up to the rehearsal the night before puking... like really, got out of the car, and, as Mike came out to greet me, I retched into the bush in front of the church. I had a large group of women and girls praying fervently for my nervous tummy. What if I showed up to the wedding in the same fashion?! It was not funny at the time, but looking back, it's hilarious! I would be the girl who gets sick! Fortunately, on the day of the wedding the prayers worked, and, while I was not 100 percent, I did not puke on the preacher's shoes.)

We chose the song "She Walked In" by Detour 180 to walk down the aisle to. Alternative Rock song by a barely known Aussie band; totally suits Michael and I. "And here I am waiting I'm waiting for you With arms outstretched. And here I am longing I'm longing for you For you" Cue big dramatic rock pick up and then the fall, and as I begin to make my way down the aisle only the singer can be heard: "She walked in and made me smile Talked a bit then stayed for a while. Beautiful vessel, who is full in you? Come fill me." Kinda perfect if you ask me.

I remember the look of devotion and excitement in my husbands eyes. I didn't know what "the better or worse" would look like that I was committing to, but I knew this man would love and cherish me through it. I remember wiping a tear from his face and the entire room seemed to let out a sigh: "Awe!"

Our ceremony was simple. We aren't too into traditions; and, since we both have trouble sitting through anything remotely verging on boring, we just exchanged rings and vows; had someone play a beautiful song they wrote for us; and, since prayer and God are a huge part of our life, we had our spiritual mentors pray over us and our marriage. Then we kissed. It had been 3 months since we kissed. It was important to us to save ourselves for our wedding night and since we had such a strong, um, chemistry together, we realized we wouldn't make it to the wedding night if we didn't hold off on the kissing. So when I say we kissed... we KISSED. :)
I love this picture. You can see the eagerness of my husband to seize his bride, the hesitation of a bride who knows she's in a room full of relatives, friends and fellow church-goers who are all watching, and you can see our pastor who knew we had waited to kiss, laughing in the background.

Someone should have cued Etta James bellowing out "At Last My Love Has Come Along."

"And now I have the pleasure of  presenting to you for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Michael ______" 

When we got outside the church, this is the site that awaited us. Can you tell my brother was in charge of the decorating our getaway car and that the Christmas decorations had just been stocked at the DollarTree? We can!

And now the whirlwind of congratulations, family reunion, pictures, and trying to head to the reception. I love how my baby brother is tight-rope walking on the planter box ledge in the midst of all this. Young boys are so enthralled by their big sisters' wedding days... HA!

Us with both our immediate families.
Can you tell which family goes with me and with Mike? :)

Me with my girls.
I love these girls! They were all positive troopers from my burnt orange fabric choice (I still love that color) to the terrible seamstress we ended up with. By the way, I strongly recommend going with a seamstress and buying fabric from a local flea market (dresses were a mere $35 a piece this way!)... but I even more strongly recommend that you make sure your seamstress comes with recommendations first!

Mike and the guys.
Oh, boys! White socks?! My husband would have been sporting the white socks too, had our pastor not came to the rescue... not Mike's rescue, he didn't care... MY rescue. Ha!

We were and still are so in love.

The reception was beautiful. My pastor's wife saved our small budget decorations with her creativity. I love that woman! Our theme was: "Fall in Love." Cheesy, perhaps, but cheesy definitely suits us. (And yep, those are real leaves! Thank you bridesmaid who collected them for us.)


The cake cutting. I still love the classic elegance of that cake. I just wish I could remember what it tasted like... (Confession: I don't even remember what flavors I picked out) That day goes by way too fast!
 

First Dance: "Fools Rush In" by Elvis Presley. Classic and very appropriate for our love story.

Father-Daughter and Mother-Son Dance. We combined them, and it was hysterical. My dad and I did a nice fox trot. My daddy can dance! Mike and his mom did something that resembled swing... yep, to the same song. If you know both of our families, you know how appropriate this is.

Let the dancing commence!

What fun to look back! Okay, now it feels a little more like yesterday. And along with the birth of our children and the day I asked Christ into my heart... this day is among the BEST.

Now to remember the first night... Don't worry I will not remember the details here. All you get is: It was worth the wait! ;)

 Happy Anniversary Michael! If I could do it all over again knowing what 6 years into the future would hold, I wouldn't change a thing (well, maybe the seamstress... ha!) I would marry you again in a heartbeat.

Rejoicing and Complaining

This morning I had an "Ah-Ha!" moment. I love those moments. I thought I would share this one.

I decided to read my Bible while feeding my son this morning. I am in Philippians 3. I would love to be all high and mighty and just say Philippians so you might think I read a couple chapters at a time. But I am committed to being real here. I read just one; sometimes half of one; sometimes none. I often read while I breastfeed because I have to sit (or at least it's a really good idea to sit, ha!). God gets my first feeding of the day. Sometimes, when I am up extra early He gets me reading His Words without a kid attached to me.

Anyways, sorry for that aside, I just felt the need to make sure you knew the person you are reading. I may be many things; but I am definitely going to be REAL. So here's the "Ah-Ha" moment:

"Whatever happens, my dear brothers and sisters, rejoice in the Lord. I never get tired of telling you these things, and I do it to safeguard your faith." Philippians 3:1

As I read this, I am not going to lie, I suffered from what I am going to call "eye-glaze syndrome." My eyes glaze over sometimes when I read. My brain wanders; my eyes scan the words, but I forget to actually read them. So this morning I missed the first sentence, but then I got to "I do it to safeguard your faith" and I realize I have no idea what it is Paul, the author, does to safeguard the Philippians faith. So I went back and re-read it, and this time make it a point to actually read the words. "Rejoice in the Lord." Paul tells the church at Philippi that rejoicing in the Lord safeguards their faith.

(By the way, this revelation is brought to you because of my "eye-glaze syndrome." I may have missed the simple truth I am about to share had I not needed to go back and reread it. So whatever your short-comings are; know that God can use them =])

Rejoicing in the Lord safeguards our faith. I looked up the word safeguard in the original Greek and it means to keep our faith unable to fail. So, the opposite of this statement would also be true: complaining causes our faith to fail.

Ouch!

Paul knew that if the Philippians kept complaining and kept a negative attitude, they would lose their faith. He must have been really concerned for them because he tells them 4 times in one letter to rejoice in the Lord. I think he was almost a bit obnoxious about it too: "Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice!" Philippians 4:4. Apparently the Philippians needed it pounded into their skulls.

I think I do too.

I think of the pair of my husband's chonies I pick off the bathroom floor EVERYDAY because he never remembers to put them in the laundry bin. I think of the pieces of food I pick off the floor because my daughter is not only a picky eater, but she also plays with the things she will not eat. Our house is almost fully carpeted save but the bathroom and kitchen and I gripe about that too as I clean up the food in the dining area, because I also have to scrub the mess out of the carpet. I think of long lines, stupid drivers, crowded parking lots, bad weather, bills, messes, and the crayon I left out that my daughter found and used to create her latest artwork on the wall. I think of the stairs I climb everyday with a baby in a car seat in one hand, trash from the car in the other hand, the diaper bag on my back, and the daughter in front of me that acts like she doesn't understand the simple instruction, "Go up the stairs" especially if she manages to find a lady bug or snail nearby. I begin to think of the serious complaints: the job losses, the miscarriage, and the stuff I am afraid to type because I desperately fear it happening to me and worry that you are perhaps going through it or have already gone through it and, though I may try, I just simply cannot relate.

Complaining: it's really easy to do and wealth of subject matter to do it over.

But, according to the Bible, it kills our Faith.

And, according to Limp Bizkit (whatever, they were totally cool...), you "gotta have faith."

Faith fills our deepest of hopes and the dreams we barely dare to mention with the substance to happen. Faith gives us the wings to fly over difficult circumstances. It's the navigation system in the crazy storms. It gives us a reason to live. Faith gives our lives purpose. It makes us want to be better and do more good. It is one thing that actually SHOULD define us. It keeps us from getting lost in the crowd; from getting lost behind the million things a mom needs to do, and from feeling like the K-mart blue-light special rather than a unique and special one-of-a-kind garment. Faith is precious. Faith is guaranteed to, alongside hope and love, last beyond death into eternity. Faith (I almost even hesitate to write this because I know someone may be reading this going through or having gone through something so difficult or painful) keeps us from blaming God or others for our struggles and difficulties.

You gotta have faith.

Rejoicing grows it. Complaining kills it.

I think I better remember to Rejoice.

I shall rejoice in the underwear I pick up off the floor for they are evidence that I have a man who works hard, loves me, and showers daily (can I get a "woot woot" for good hygiene here?!). I shall rejoice in the food my daughter puts on the floor for I have been blessed with two beautiful kids and food to feed them with. I will practice ignoring irritations or laughing through them. I may even choose the longest line and call a friend, pull out my phone to check my Facebook, or sing silly songs with my kids, and remember that I have money in my checking account whereby to buy the things I stand in that line for.  I will choose to think about the time I had something or someone rather than that I lost them. I will know that a miscarriage will never let me forget how precious and miraculous life really is. Instead of trying to explain the loss, I will rejoice that I got to hold for but a moment the unexplainable mystery and treasure of life. In difficulties, I will dig deep into my faith and trust that it will all work out someway, someday. I will think back on the difficult times and be thankful for the strength I acquired through them and the miracles I got to see because of them. I do not have all the answers and really no matter how much my human brain would like to make sense of things... sometimes they just don't make sense and that's okay. That's what faith is for.




Assignment: Because I would love to know you better and because I think it could be fun and maybe even funny, I would LOVE for you to write in the comments "a rejoice through a complaint" statement. Men are welcome to chime in too. And... even though this entire post is pretty much a rejoicing through complaints, I will start us off. =]

Keep Pressing!

After having brought 2 children into the world and coming to terms with the “fluffier” state my body was now in, I decided I had complained enough about my weight; now it was time for action. I decided to take up running. I have always loved running. There is just nothing quite like the feeling of going somewhere with your own two feet, nothing attached to you (except for a couple extra pounds, hence the running). It's just you and nature. It's your willpower up against your bodies limitations. I hadn't ran in at least 4 years, and after bringing 2 children into the world... out of shape is a severe understatement. Not only were me and “shape” not in the same town, we probably were not even in the same hemisphere! So, with the greatest of intentions and full of weightloss hope, I started running. First day... not so bad. I got farther than I thought I would be able to, according to my car, 0.7 miles of solid jogging (you better believe I went back and checked the distance!). Second day... all right. My body was stiff, and it was much harder than day one, but I did it. Third day... somebody shoot me because I am going to die! I think I got the length of block, I am guessing 0.1 miles maybe, and my entire body gave out on me. Sore muscles, stiff joints, and stomach ready to hurl. Alright, so I realized my dream of a tight figure and becoming “Fitness Woman,” was going to be much harder to achieve than I had realized.

The process of getting back into shape and the exercise of running got me thinking. Every long distance runner knows this secret: Endorphins. The word endorphin literally means “the morphine within.” Very simply, endorphins are a chemical the body makes when it is put under a great deal of physical stress or pain; it “raises the pain threshold.”1 When you run, your body reaches a certain point when it must begin to push through soreness, stiffness, fatigue, cramping, pain... (depending on how out of shape you are this may happen 3 miles in or it may be tragically instantaneous). A wise runner knows when to stop and rest, walk a bit, or drink some water and when to keep pressing onward. As the difficulty of the run is pressed through, something amazing happens... a new found source of energy and strength wells up... the runner has wings! Endorphins!

If you don't happen to be a runner, but have brought a child into this world naturally, then you too have most likely experienced endorphins. You see, when you should have passed out from the sheer exhaustion of shoving something the size of a watermelon (also lovingly referred to as a baby) out a hole the size of a grapefruit (fully dilated to a 10) and instead of exhaustion, you felt this overwhelming sense of euphoria, excitement and wonder over the miracle of life and the triumph of overcoming to bring something so precious into this world... yep, you experienced endorphins. Gotta love those things!

Okay, so I really don't want to actually talk about endorphins, and I am no marathon runner or trainer. But, I have been through some grueling times as life seems to be famous for. Motherhood, particularly beginning when Addy turned 2, has brought and will continue to bring challenges. I just survived 9 months of potty training—and that doesn't count the time when we just had the potty chair and talked about poo-poo and pee-pee and where it should go. No, I am talking about 9 months of panties and putting her on the potty daily. I have a feeling that's a long time, maybe not, but I really don't want to compare it with any other child's experience (so kindly keep your “poo-poo wonder child” stories to yourself! Ha!) My nine month potty-training marathon taught me to be consistent, taught me that sometimes you got to take a break especially when big sister is adjusting to baby brother and so is mommy, and taught me that sometimes you just got to keep pressing even when the OxyClean is almost out because it has been used on countless accidents and some “accidents” that you could swear weren't accidents at all but rather your strong-willed child exerting her will to go in her pants. (Can I just take a moment to say “Thank you OxyClean! You kept my house smell-free and stain-free through potty training!”?!)

It seems long distance running and child-rearing have a lot in common: they both take consistency to be successful and the art of pressing through difficulty, and, yes, sometimes the occasional rest is needed. I don't know about you but part of me wants to just claim to “need” to be in a state of rest all the time. Has anyone else noticed how in disciplining your child it is really you that seems to learn to be disciplined more than your child?!

But here's the thing, the reason I brought up endorphins: When I run, I always start off with some stretches and warm ups. I try to set myself up to be successful by making sure I am hydrated and ate the right food the meal prior. And when I start my run, eventually this out of practice girl has to dig deep. I run, and the cramps begin. I feel the shin splints. My knees ache. I try to keep at the same pace; sometimes I have to slow down. Sometimes my run looks more like a putter. But I press onward to my mark. I keep going. I don't give up. I know that eventually I will be in shape, and my mile will increase to 5 miles. I know that if I keep running eventually those God-given endorphins will flood my body and give me a new found energy to finish my race.

I think parenting can be a lot like running. We as parents need to warm our kids up to the changes we want/need to make in their behavior or routine. We as parents need to set ourselves up to be successful by making sure we get sleep, proper nutrition and time to ourselves. Addy refuses to nap most days, but I still mandate that she lay in her bed for one hour. She needs the quiet time; and so do I! We as parents need to expect parenting to be rough. Making sure my kids eat right is much more difficult than just running thru the drive-thru or turning to easy mac (not that I am saying never do this, just that perhaps everyday isn't the best idea). It is hard to get Addy to eat her vegetables, but nevertheless I enforce that one bite rule and keep enforcing it no matter how big the fit. Eventually we will arrive at the vegetables that she likes. I maintain that I am Mom; Dad is Dad; vegetables ARE good for you; and if you aren't willing to try your vegetables, you can take your time-out. I keep pressing.


I have heard this promise of the Bible quoted my whole life. In fact, I remember it verbatim, because I grew up singing it in a song.

“They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They will mount up on wings like an eagle. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.” -Isaiah 40:31

When I was contemplating endorphins, this verse just seemed to continuously run through my brain. Perhaps a crazy thought here: I think God is like endorphins. We press and press through the difficulties of life; and at the exact moment that we feel we can go no further, have given all we've got, we somehow manage to keep going. We are filled with a new-found energy. God gives us wings. The thing is, though, you gotta press through first. According to Isaiah, you gotta wait. By the way, I looked up the word wait in the original Hebrew. It means to “wait, look for, hope, expect.”2


So, girlfriend...

Keep pressing.
Keep pressing through temper tantrums, poo-poo accidents, sassy talking-back, vegetables spit onto the floor...

Don't give up. Don't just live with the things you know you need work on with your child.

Be consistent. Or at least start practicing at consistency.
Take a break if necessary. Pick one or two battles at a time.
Don't be lazy. Don't become complacent. Be the kind of parent you want to be.

Know that maybe every one else has it all together, but, at the very least, you and I do not. And that's okay. Love your kids, do your best and expect that God will fill you with the strength you need. Maybe not when you want it, but definitely at some point, in His perfect timing. You can expect that!



By the way, in case you are wondering. I am two months into my running routine. My running goal is now set at an attainable 2 times a week. I am now able to run 1 mile solid and I power walk another half mile. Sometimes I struggle to get out there. I just took a 2 week break unintentionally, because, well, life happened and I got lazy. But still I putter along. I shall do this! I can do this! I press forward!

Also, in case you are wondering, in the battle of food, I have successfully gotten Addy to decide she likes carrots and I have learned that if I puree squash and put it in homemade macraroni and cheese, she has no idea it's there. Shh... don't tell her. I have yet to convince her that anything green is worth eating. But still I putter along. I shall work at having healthy kids! I can be the woman of my house! I will rule my roost! I press forward!

One of my first attempts at getting Addy to eat her carrots. Silly face didn't work, but, after faithfully enforcing the one-bite rule on carrots for 3 months, she one day turns to me and says, "They're not too bad, Mom."




Thrive

This morning in the shower, I had an epiphany. (Is it just me, or do most "ah-ha!" moments seem to happen there?) While showering, I was able to put into one simple statement the purpose of this blog: "My Little Bit to go from JUST SURVIVING to THRIVING." This blog isn't about crafts or cooking or mommy tips, though this stuff is here; it's really about the little bit I do to Thrive. There's just nothing quite like knowing your purpose and being able to state it in one sentence. Thank you blogging for helping me find it!

A few hours after my epiphany, I was off to visit my parents. Accompanying me on the drive was Switchfoot's new album, Vice Verses. It is an AWESOME album. When the number 7 track came on, "Thrive," I felt like my mind had been read. I love it when a song can do that to you.


"I'm always close but I'm never enough
I'm always in line but I'm never in love
I get so down but I won't give up
I get slowed down but I won't give up

"Been fighting things that I can't see in
Like voices coming from the inside of me and
Like doing things I find hard to believe in
Am I myself or am I dreaming?

"I want to thrive not just survive."


I struggle with depression, laziness, and this overwhelming urge to throw the comforter over my head and go back to sleep because I worry I don't have what it takes to face the day. I worry that I'm not enough, that I don't have what it takes as a mom and wife to help my kids and husband flourish. I only have two hands and twenty four hours, and sometimes that just seems inadequate.

But I have determined in this heart of mine that I will not back down. I will not do the bare minimum. I will not just bathe my kids, brush their teeth, put whatever food into their stomach, and call it a day. I will not just tune out the things I don't care to deal with. I will not just have sex with my husband once every two weeks because I am tired and that's what psychologists say is the minimal amount needed to keep a marriage together. I will not throw myself into vices like alcohol,  television, or all the other ways a person can metaphorically throw the comforter over their head. I will not just survive.

I want to Thrive. Sure life is rough, and sometimes I haven't the slightest idea what the "right" thing to do is. Jobs fail, people suck, kids scream, bills are due every month, but I want to find the ways to Thrive. I want to make love. I want to enjoy my kids. I want to play my part in the molding and shaping of my children into the adults they were made to be. I want my cooking to taste good, and I want it to nourish my family. I want to create. I want to enjoy life. I want to triumph over difficulty. I want when God looks at me for Him to be able to say "Good job, Daughter!"

I am finding there's only a little bit of difference between surviving and thriving. It's the times of meditation, seizing the little teaching opportunities with my daughter, stopping long enough to dance with my daughter and "zerbil" on my son's tummy, waking up 2 hours before my kids do, making sure to run twice a week, planning a budget, and writing down my grocery list. It's an organized cupboard, a chat with a friend, my morning cup of coffee, a healthy treat, Saturday morning breakfast, and a project that saves me money and lets someone know they are loved.

I want to be a woman of purpose, full of love and grace. I want to thrive. I want my husband to thrive. I want my kids to thrive. And you know, I can say from experience that circumstances and checking accounts have nothing to do with thriving. I think thriving is a God-thing... my ability to thrive is directly related to my ability to depend on Him. I think thriving is a "carpe diem" kind of thing... seizing every moment and opportunity, good or bad, and searching, no matter how desperately, for the positive in it and the ways that I can teach my children (and myself) through it. I think thriving is a "making the most with what you've got" kind of thing... not looking at what you don't have, but looking at what you do have and working it into it's absolute best.

My favorite verse in the Bible is Hebrews 10:39. "We are not of those who shrink back... but of those who have faith and are saved." It's found in a letter written to arguably the most persecuted group of people, the Christian Jews. They were persecuted by the Romans and their fellow Jews. They experienced the loss of their possessions, insults from all sides, imprisonment, and sometimes torture and death. (Hmmm... and I have a hard time when my 3 year old goes number 2 in her pants...) And here they are told to not "shrink back," to not pull the comforter over their heads, to not just survive. 

So RISE UP Woman! Wake up. Pull off the comforter. Seize your day. Seize your opportunities. Do what you do to love others. Don't shrink back. Don't just survive. 

For you, woman, were made for so much more!

You were made to THRIVE!