The Grace Game

Ever have a "Turning Point?" You know, life is going along as usual. Perhaps there is a slight feeling of discontentment, but life is normal. You are who you've always been. And then, something happens that leaves you forever changed.

I have had a few of those moments in my lifetime. There are the big life moments: my wedding day and the birth of my first child. There are the hard times: the day my husband and his dad made the desicion to close down their business and the day I found out my dear granny had been diagnosed with an aggressive brain cancer. Then there are the times I was casually going about life as usual, and nothing really extraordinary happened but somehow God managed to gently teach me a big life lesson that forever changed me.

Today, I want to reflect on one of those business-as-usual Big Moments.

I was 21. Idealistic as ever. I had just returned from 3 months of living in inner-city Los Angeles. I interned at a missions organization and got spend a lot of time at the Dream Center (a 24-hour church that literally has a ministry for every possible way a person could be down and out). I dealt hope to the homeless, helped with youth group missions trips in Tijuana, met some amazing missionaries, reached out to teen runaways, and put on programs for children in some of the worst projects in the LA area. It was an amazing summer.

I came home from my internship ready to save the world. And don't you know, in three months time I managed to gain all the experience and wisdom necessary to be able to do this better than anyone else? HA! I took a position at my church as the administrative assistant. I am pretty sure I drove my pastors crazy, for, with all my 3 months of ministry knowledge, I could not only administrate; I could also pastor better than they could. Confession: I was and still can be a complete know-it-all. My senior pastor later confessed that he almost fired me. I don't blame him. I was difficult.

At this time there happened to be a young man who was interning at the church. I couldn't stand him. I didn't think he belonged there. I also thought I was qualified enough to be able to say whether he belonged there or not... after all I did have my 3 months of internship experience. He would constantly make trips to my desk and stare at my chest. I didn't care if he was in recovery. This was the holy house of God! How dare he call himself an intern and look at a woman's bosoms, foul sinner! (I am being intentionally dramatic.)

Anyways, on this particular day, I had had enough from this young man. I left work thoroughly frustrated. I got in my car and headed to school. The freeway greeted my bad day with some especially congested traffic. Is it just me or does it seem that somehow everyone gets the memo when you've had a bad day and decides to drive especially bad?

A woman was tail-gating me. I found this to be mildly irritating. Then, she decides to floor it into the carpool lane and cut right in front of me, forcing me to brake hard and the car behind me to almost hit me. My bad day combined with this bad driver made me want to scream out every four letter word I could think of.

When I first got my license, to keep road rage from turning my mouth into a cesspool of expletives, I made up a game I called, "The Grace Game." Every time another driver did something to upset me, I came up with a ridiculous story of why that person would have had a good reason to do that. For example, "Perhaps he took my right-of-way because he was in a great hurry. He has missed every single one of his son's baseball games this season and he really needs to make it to the last one to prevent further damaging his relationship with his family. He accidentally hit a dog on the way to the game and decided to do the right thing and pull over to see if the dog could be helped. He knocked on a couple doors to try to find the owner making him irrevocably late..." Less than a minute of my absurd story and my anger was gone.

So on this particularly frustrating day, I remembered "The Grace Game." I began making up a story for this woman. "Perhaps her mom is on her deathbed. While on the way the the hospital, her boyfriend called to tell her that her dog had died. Then he called her back to tell her that he was leaving her for another woman. She now desperately needs her mom and wants so badly to see her one last time..." I begin to chuckle at my slightly morbid ridiculousness. I begin thinking how super clever I am for inventing "The Grace Game."

Enter my life changing moment:

God gently spoke to me in the midst of my prideful revelry, and said, "Amanda, that's conditional Grace. My Grace is Unconditional."

Silence while the words sink in.

Tears, lots of them, immediately ensued.

You may think I am crazy for thinking that God talked to me. But He did. My life-changing moment may be small and normal. But I can still hear those words. They were soft and gentle. A whisper really. But they jarred that girl out of the pride she had been living in and into a small glimpse of the vastness of God's Love.

Our grace is conditional.

We want excuses. Reasons for things. Bad behavior can be fine so long as there is an explanation for it.

God's grace is unconditional.

He doesn't need an excuse, a rough childhood to understand the adult you are today... you can be downright awful and the moment you ask for God's forgiveness, favor, help, love... you have it. It doesn't make sense. It cannot be fathomed or grasped. And it's really not supposed to be: see, there's this thing called Faith. Faith fills the gap between God Ways and our understanding.

I felt especially awful at that moment sitting in practically idle, rush-hour traffic. I had no excuses for my lack of forgiveness. I had no reason to be the prideful, judgmental, know-it-all I had become. I could somehow reach out and love the down-and-out, drug-addict on the streets who chose his addiction over his family, house, and job because I could see the rough life and the addiction as an excuse to live in depravity. But somehow, I couldn't extend love and grace to my pastors and that intern because they should know better. Right?

I should know better.

Most of the time, I do know better.

I am so thankful for the unconditional grace God gives this girl. If you read my last post, Eat My Words, you know pride is an ongoing struggle for me. The moment I think I have conquered it and have learned some great lesson in humility is the moment I find some other aspect of pride ruling some other aspect of my life.

In light of my last post, I need to remember to not form opinions of or make excuses for others. I am not God, and my version of grace and love doesn't even come close to measuring up to His. What is this great need inside me to play God? To decide who deserves what they get and who doesn't?

Unconditional.

Hmmm... What would it look like to live without conditions? I want to find out... And in the meantime, I am just appreciative of the fact that God loves me without them.

Eat My Words

Sometimes, I judge.

As of late, I feel as though someone has gone through the buffet line of every careless word of judgement I have ever spoken, picked a few choice ones to pile up on the plate, and now I get to eat my words.

Ever had that kind of moment? You are casually going about your business and catch yourself doing something you at one time judged others for doing? Or maybe someone says something about you that you once said about someone else? Or maybe you've caught yourself doing something that you once said "I will never...," like from your younger days before you had kids when you thought you could parent better than your mom. Right now, it feels like God is tapping me on my shoulder and gently reminding me of times past. I don't consider myself judgmental, more like idealistic or maybe even opinionated. But no matter how I choose to color it, I still judge. The past 6 months or so has contained a plateful of reminders of this shortcoming of mine.

A few months back, a girl I knew made a remark about a woman who had her 4ish year old peeing into the bushes outside of a shopping store. Her comment was something along the lines of "Seriously?! Why would anyone do that? That's unbelievable. I will never..." As a mother who has survived potty training and has a busy daughter who waits to the absolute last possible second to head to the bathroom to relieve herself, I know that sometimes allowing your child to urinate outside the store is simply a matter of survival. It's not ideal. It's not what anyone dreams of when they think of motherhood. But sometimes, on the rare occasion, motherhood simply requires some pretty "interesting" and often embarrassing duties from us. I did not say anything to my friend, for some things are better learned on one's own. God is a great and gentle teacher anyways.

We are all guilty of such things, though I suppose I shouldn't speak for you; I am guilty of such things. Lack of experience causes me to look at the choices other people make and question them. And I suppose if I am to be very honest, sometimes I am just downright rotten. A little piece of me that still struggles to know her value wants to compare myself to others so I can feel a little better. But that's an entirely different conversation for a different day,

I am learning that people and life are a sum of choices we make. Different situations challenge what is most important to us, and we make our decisions accordingly.

Being a stay-at-home mom has been something that I place great value on. But its a choice that has come at a high price. Circumstances have demanded that my husband and I make some really tough decisions to keep me at home, decisions that I know not everyone would make. We've had to look at two things we value greatly and decide which one is more valuable. It's kind of like the woman at the store who has to choose between the value of public decency and the value of not allowing her child to pee in his/her pants. I am sure it's not that public decency has no value. I am sure it is a value she wants to instill in her child. But she made a choice, and the value of dry pants won. Perhaps not everyone in that situation would do what she did. Perhaps there could have been other options besides the bushes outside. How can she be judged though, for I haven't lived her life, and I am clueless about her values?

Please don't think this blog is a rant about my judgmental friend. I wouldn't even say she's judgmental, and I also wouldn't be able to say that she's not judgmental; I really don't know either way. I have absolutely similarly judged. For example, and this may show my suburban, small-town upbringing, as a 20ish year old I had this thing about apartments. I looked at apartments, thought it looked lame to live amongst a parking lot with strangers so close by, and thought to myself, "I will never." I didn't want to rush out of my parents' house as a young woman and end up in an apartment. I am not quite sure what my thing was, guess it was just idealistic youth, but I totally thought people who lived in apartments were lame. I now live in an apartment. It's not a big deal. It's a desicion that I made because, well, I've grown up since then and because it's one of the choices we've had to make to keep me at home. Sure, if I could have my cake and eat it too, I would stay at home AND have a house with a backyard. But both isn't an option. So we made a desicion about which one we valued more. We choose me at home. (And by the way, this is NOT me saying everyone should make this desicion in a similar situation. I do not think that. I am only saying what desicion we made for us.)

Even though I am fine with our apartment choice, I will never forget sitting at dinner surrounded by friends and having one person, who happened to be planning for her wedding and her life with her significant other, say, "Yeah, I just don't think I could live in an apartment. There's just something about them." It hurt. I suddenly felt like I was less than. Not good enough. Coach class at a table of executive class people. Apartment class sitting amongst house-with-a-groomed-backyard class people. I thought of the fact that not only did I live in an apartment, but I had also moved back in with my parents for 2 years and after that lived above my church in a tiny studio apartment before moving into our current apartment. They were my husband's and my choices as much as we would like to play the victim-of-a-bad-economy card. And what did all that say about me? Is there "just something about me?" I know I am a little sensitive, but it hurt my feelings. She didn't say it with that intent, she was just communicating her future plans with her future husband ignorant of my living situation. And as I was getting upset, I realized it bothered me so much because I WAS THAT GIRL. I ignorantly judged apartment living and now I was being judged by my same system of measurement. Ouch!

I am sure this is a familiar passage from the Bible: "Do not judge so that you will not be judged. For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you" (Matthew 7:1-2). In light of what I have been thinking on, I think I understand it a little better. I guess I always skimmed over the "standard of measure" part. I looked at the whole passage and thought "Ok. Don't judge. Got it. Next passage..." Standard of measure refers to weight. It's like going to the grocery store and pulling out a bunch of tomatoes and placing them on the scale. Do you measure in ounces and pounds or in grams and kilograms? I think God is essentially saying that if you pick people up, put them on the scale of your values and determine their worth; by that same scale and by those same values, you yourself will be measured and your worth determined. You yourself will get to eat your words.

The Bible promises God sees us as valuable, a treasure, it speaks of Him seeking after us, pursuing us like a man seeks after the woman he desires above all others. But when we bust out our scale of values and begin to place people on them, Matthew 7:1,2, implies that God now must look at something he sees as valuable, priceless, and wonderful in his perfect eyes and look at us through our imperfect lenses and place us on our imperfect scale. I am thinking I definitely like the way God's sees me better. I am thinking I definitely need to ditch my scale!  

Part of my struggle has been learning to live knowing that I am being judged by others. I find it incredibly hard to know that someone is standing with their nose upturned at me, even though I know I made the best decision for me and my family. Shame. Judgment. Uck! I am finding it incredibly hard to live under that burden, but I haven't quite figured out how to live without caring. Try as I might I DO care what other people think. I know; it's pride, and I need to care more about what God thinks of me. Can I just say, at least for me, "THIS IS HARD!" I know I have come a long ways. Learning to like myself is part of it. Learning to make the desicions that I can live with helps. But its hard. I haven't quite figured out how to further navigate my way out from under the weight of people's judgment. I am learning, but I have a ways to go.

The bright side to eating my buffet plate of careless words is that I am learning compassion. I might have considered myself compassionate before, but I am also learning compassion is something that one can always get better at. My depth of understanding is increasing because my life experience is increasing. I can better understand others. And I can better understand that I don't need to understand others. I am learning because I absolutely hate eating my words, to not just keep my opinions to myself, but to stop forming them all together. I think that is a better form of compassion anyways.

While I may not not be much of one for resolutions, I do love how the new year draws that line on the track for me and lets me run in the direction I choose so that when the next year draws close I can look back and see how far I have come. So new year, I am going to try to keep my mouth shut more often, form fewer opinions about others, and focus my attention on how God sees me instead of others.

"Truly he taught us to love one another; His law is love and His gospel is peace."
-from "O Holy Night"

I think these lyrics pretty much sum it up for me. God gives us perfect love and perfect peace. And He calls us to live that way with others.

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. =]