Like A Penny With a Hole In It

Have you ever started crying after accidentally stepping on a penny, while you were barefoot? No? Me either... My stress level has never been so high that I just broke out into tears at the thought of stepping on a cold, dead insect or worse, fresh toddler pee-- both of which, besides the "eww" factor, would need to be cleaned up by me. Maybe that's what a cold copper penny on a carpet feels like to warm barefeet that were fatigued, overwhelmed with life and only looking for slippers. I mean, I wouldn't know, but it sounds slightly plausible.

Of course, if that somewhat insane scenario did happen to someone, I don't think I'd judge them. It sounds like they need compassion and reprieve. And besides, they're probably judging themselves anyway (like majorly).

A penny with a hole in it. Who needs that? These days, a penny isn't even a useful form of payment for anything, let alone one with a deficiency. There's a kind of pathetic worthlessness that seems to encompass the idea of a penny with a hole. And though I'm pretty sure those exist, I completely understand their plight today.

Trying to explain to my kids:
-why they shouldn't say "damn" even though they just heard me say it when I stubbed my toe on the sofa or was splattered by hot oil while cooking dinner
-where the deceased family dog has gone (not heaven, but his actual, physical body, because apparently this is very important)
-why they can't have ice cream, candy, cookies etc. for breakfast
-how the changing of seasons happens
-why I yelled at them for what feels like the millionth time
... A Penny With a Hole in It 

Giving of my time, patience and love to:
-my husband
-my school work
-my internship
-my household duties
-my extended family
... yet feeling like it's never enough... A Penny With a Hole in It 

Overwhelmed.

Underwater.

Family vacations, milestone birthday parties, massive end of the year graduate school papers, trying to start a family business, balancing the checkbook (mostly incorrectly/inaccurately), laundry/dinner/dishes daily routine, pre-K homework, taking care of a recently diagnosed sick spouse, full-time childrearing, government programs, social welfare research, Bible reading, sibling counseling, friends forgotten for lack of time, dusty books unread for the same reason... 

Wishing for more time in the day. Or maybe just another me. Or maybe just some HELP.

Underwater. On the inside. Random bursts of tears spill out, unable to contain the magnitude. Something somewhere is wrong. Don't take it as my professional opinion (especially since I won't be a professional for another year) but as a personal opinion of myself. It's not a normal thing for me. 

Lord, I need your help. My honest plea. My heartfelt prayer. My only hope.

I can't carry all that's been going on, but I do know someone who can. I guess I forgot. I got so caught up, trying to do it on my own. I've been foolish to think I was alone. I'm not a failure, but relying on myself to do it all has led to that looming feeling. Took my eyes off of Him, focused on my situation. Worst decision ever.

He is my lifeguard in this unrelenting sea of life. I'm drowning, but I won't die. Because I've got so much love to give; my lifelong to-do list is nowhere near complete. I'll get through this moment in time. Faith.

"Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken." ~Psalm 55:22

..."Truly I tell you, if you have faith and do not doubt, not only can you do what was done to the fig tree, but also you can say to this mountain, 'Go, throw yourself into the sea,' and it will be done" ~Matthew 21:21

Wowzers

I miss writing for fun.
 
I miss my blog and being able to get my inane thoughts out in literary form. Now my writings have been trained to be educational and intellectual. The nerve of graduate school! I'm awake at 6 am writing papers about federal and agency policies and law. I know it's important. After all, I'm the one that chose to study this field of work. I'm interested in it most days, but I just feel like it's taking so much from ME. As if I wasn't already spread thin as a mom and wife, adding school to the mix just made life an extra dose of crazy. Plus, I'm a recovering perfectionist (which is probably like a recovering alcoholic in that any moment could be the moment when you revert back to your old ways) which makes everything more difficult- even those things I love.
 
Looking back at my past writings makes me sad. Where is that woman? The one who synthesized beautiful thoughts and came out with clearer purpose after doing so. Is she still in me? Sometimes I honestly don't know. I think I may have killed her... or more aptly, let her die, which would be just as bad if we were talking about an actual person, right?

 

I think life is just happening faster than I can document and I'm not ok with that. Like my boys, when did they get old enough to climb on fire trucks and big enough to get in bouncy houses without assistance. And all without even looking back for their mom. Like seriously, when did that happen?! It's the independent stage of life that all moms of infants look forward to, but it's a lot different than anticipated.

 

I'm sure this is just a moment and I'll feel better once these dreaded 4 assignments are behind me and I'm on the beach with my family (which can't come soon enough). I'm sure I'm just going through a phase of general unrest and fatigue that my God can heal. I know I'll be all right.

 

 

 

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." -John 14:27



Forward Thinking

Fresh off of the heels of my oldest son's first ever organized sports "Draft Day", I am pumped! As I watched my little boy running, with all his might, across the gymnasium, I swelled with motherly pride. Not because he was terrific (even though he totally was), but because... he was mine.

He lined up obediently amongst the other rowdy 3 and 4 year olds, listened attentively to the coach, and performed the requested "drills". But, aside from that... he was mine. You see, sometimes, we don't appreciate our children for who they are as an independent entity, only for who they are at the moment. And let's be honest, there are moments when we just don't appreciate them at all, like the middle of the cereal aisle when they scream for the "one with the man on it!" and then increasingly louder when you reply "no".

Sadly, I sometimes forget that my kids were gifts from God. Packaged in adorable, occasionally snotty-nosed, loud, squirmy, whiny wrapping, but gifts nonetheless. He gave them to me to protect and provide for, but also to love and mainly to see Him through them.

The day-to-day struggles of non-naptimes and veggie bargaining and juice wars often consume my existence of what it's like to be a mom. But, today was different (well those few hours of soccer were anyway) and beautiful.

I watched my child be himself. I noticed how he talked to other preschoolers, high-fived random adults, and pumped his little arms to run as fast as he could. He was awesome in just being who God crafted him to be. I'd be dishonest if I said I wasn't a little proud of the fact that he could follow directions while being sociable and still manage to be one of the best behaved kids out there today because I definitely was. But, bigger than that, I was just proud to be his mom in the stands, watching him exist in his own skin.

I caught a glimpse of not only who he is now, but what kind of person he would be in a few years and I loved the sight of it. So even though I should be working right now (my deadline is in a few hours) or finishing up 2 assignments for school (due Monday), I chose to document how wonderful life is as a parent. Most days.

Never Enough

I just read a blog post that inspired me to do some critical thinking (yes, I'm a fancy grad student now, and that's all we do). It was a wonderfully insightful post, written by an incredible mother, Christian and philanthropist who I have the pleasure of knowing :-) Read "How to Measure Success of a Mother".

As I sit up in the wee hours of the morning (3:17am to be exact), hammering away at the keyboard and probing the deeps of my mind to come up with something particularly genius for my classmates and teacher to read, I also think about how much energy I will NOT have for my children when they wake up. Then I feel guilty. Then the self-motivating pep talk begins. I tell myself that I can do this because "nothing is impossible with God" (Luke 1:37). I think back to when my boys were infants (seemingly not too long ago), screaming at all hours, with no regard for the time. In those days, sleep was stolen in haphazard patches in front of the television with one hand patting a back or holding a bottle and always cradling a baby. Yet, somehow I made it to work (granted that was my computer in the next room) on time and always met my quotas.

Despite the obvious triumphs of the past, I still struggle with feeling like I'm enough. I question my dedication to my family as I heat up a Stouffer's lasagna for dinner, rather than slaving over a stove to prepare them a home-cooked meal. I debate my commitment to school as I do homework to the sounds of crying/laughing (because sometimes it's difficult to know the difference) and the NFL game playing in the background. I examine my devotion to my marriage as I choose to let the idiocy of reality television wash over me, rather than share intimate conversation with my husband. Looking around at the hurricane that is my life, I have the impression that I can be swept away at any unpredictable moment. I am clearly not enough.

But, thankfully I know who is.

I know a God who is made strong in my weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9) therefore, I'm really not that weak, am I?

We humans (especially moms) like to think that we can do it all. We undertake so many responsibilities, we strive for perfection. We fail. We can't do it all on our own. God wants us to rest in our imperfections, so that He gets the glory for our success. Unfortunately, sometimes that means we have to walk through the valley of the shadow of death first.

Like my precious, fragile toddler having a seizure, blue lips and eyes rolled back, unresponsive, unconscious and me with no immediate transportation... BUT GOD steps in. He proved that no amount of CPR and parenting classes could save me in that moment. Only He could. I was not enough.

As my oldest son lashes out in frustration at his younger brother with a shove and exclaiming "I said, don't do that! You are so disobedient!" or giggles when he burps, rather than excusing himself, I sadly realize I am not enough to raise my rowdy boys into kind, mannerable men. I have to rely on God to mold them into His image, in His time (but seriously, any day now God).

The pressures of this life are difficult enough, without feeling like you're doing it all on your own. We have spouses and friends and community groups, but in those wee hours of the morning when our eyelids threaten to close and the to-do list stares menacingly at you, it is then that we truly feel alone. It is also then that we are most in-sync with God, despite that sinking feeling that rests in the pit of our stomach. In those solitary moments, those times we most want to quit and wonder why we even started, that's where God resides. He lives in those junctures of time when our failures illuminate his prowess. It is when we are truly isolated from the distractions of the world that we can see and hear Him clearly.

He never leaves us, but often we leave Him, thinking we can handle things by ourselves. We can't.

When I cry, confused and afraid, praying over my husband's heart condition, He hears me.

When me children disobey me and I harshly reprimand them, then question if I did the right thing, He comforts me.

When dishes pile up in the sink, laundry overflows from every basket in the house, homework sits undone, emails unanswered, family unfed, He breathes through me and somehow it all gets done.

I am not enough and contrary to what I think at times, I never will be. But He always is and I relax and rejoice in that.




*** This song has been on heavy rotation in my head for the past few days and it seems so appropriate to this topic, so I thought I'd share. "By Your Side" by Tenth Avenue North***

Back at It

I have been an awesome blogger lately! I've told you all about the joys of potty training my almost 2 year old, which involves lots of bodily excrement on the carpets and floors. Then there's my impending move to South Georgia (bleh, who'd wanna go further south, right?) in a few months. I've also mentioned starting school for my MSW (masters of social work) degree and how much I feel inferior to my classmates because I'm "only" a stay-at-home mom, who doesn't exactly use that first degree I have. That last one requires a post all on it's own and I promise it's coming, though I can neither confirm nor deny if that will come sooner rather than later. I've surely also mentioned my hubby's health scares...

Wait, I haven't? I haven't blogged about ANY of that? The words are so vivid in my head. I remember coming up with cute, catchy phrases and everything... But then again, I also remember staring at a blank computer screen and saying "tomorrow" before going to bed or becoming engrossed in a reality show or 3 (don't judge me).

So, what you're saying is, I've been an awful blogger? My apologies. To my few loyal readers, but mainly to myself. I enjoy writing, but I've discovered I'm a pen and paper type of girl. The computer holds so many distractions and lately I've noticed I'm an easy target for distractions of any kind.

Anyway, all of the above notwithstanding (especially that potty training stuff, yuck), life's been good this past month. With the help of God, my family has made some major decisions. And as a result, in my personal devotion/meditation time I'm currently studying FAITH. We all know what it is, but walking in it is so totally different.

One of my favorite quotes is from Martin Luther King Jr. "Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase." S-C-A-R-Y! I cannot even imagine walking down an actual flight of stairs when I can't see the whole staircase; I trip down the stairs plenty as it is now! However, I know that in life, I've done that very thing. I don't recall ever making as big a life decision as moving 200 miles away from my extremely supportive family and friends. Some might say marriage, but for me it was a very simple decision. Even having children, once faced with the option, was an easy choice. Moving, however exciting it may be, is proving to require a huge leap of faith. Sorry to be cliche, but they are tried and true phrases for a reason.

In dealing with my faith, I think about Peter walking on water with Jesus (Matthew 14:22-33). As soon as he started to question himself and his faith and his God, he began to sink. It's when we take our eyes off of Jesus, that we begin to use worldly knowledge to try to explain things. And most times, that worldly knowledge means nothing and leaves us doubting our sure thing, which is God's love and perfect timing.

I could go on and on about faith, but I'll leave you with these verses in the hopes that it will comfort those going through faith struggles with me. Press on, people!

Hebrews 11:1

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.

 

2 Corinthians 5:7

We live by faith, not by sight.

 

1 Peter 1:7

These have come so that your faith--of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire--may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.

 

1 Corinthians 2:5

so that your faith might not rest on men's wisdom, but on God's power.

 

Luke 17:6

He replied, "If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it will obey you.

Crying Over Spilled Lemonade

  So, we know we shouldn't cry over spilled milk, but what about expensive and delicious lemonade? People who live in the South understand how we cherish our Chick-fil-a; they didn't invent the chicken, just the chicken sandwich. And it is the simplest, yummiest fast food chicken sandwich EVER. But, aside from that, they're also know for their "fresh squeezed" lemonade. I use quotes because, although there are fresh bits of lemon in the cup and each lemonade trip yields a different sour/sweet ratio, like homemade lemonade would, it's fast food, so it can't truly be trusted. Anyway, their lemonade, like their peanut oil fried chicken is awesome. I've often gone there just to get the delicious drink. If you live in the south and have never been... really, are you insane?! And if you live in a state that the franchise has yet to migrate to... I'm sorry and keep hope alive.

  Since I was out today, enjoying (or rather not enjoying at all) the Atlanta heatwave, I decided to indulge myself in the scrumptuous though empty caloric beverage. I took a few satisfying sips in the car, but told myself to wait until I was home to fully enjoy it. Once home, my oldest son was instructed to take his shoes off, as I took off the shoes of my younger child. What happens next is still blurry. I vaguely remember hearing him say he had to potty. Then I remember hearing my drink crash to the floor and feeling the cold sticky liquid splash on my legs. It was as if the room stood still for a few seconds as my brain processed the enormity of the situation. My sons looked at me, waiting for what they knew was coming. Somebody was getting in trouble and they both knew it.

  I took a deep breath in, to try to calm myself, but when I exhaled "Oh MY GoSH! LOOK WHAT YOU DID! YOU HAVE TO BE MORE CAREFUL! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU JUST SPILLED MY DRINK!" is what came out instead of the serenity we'd all been hoping for. Partly due to exhaustion (it was mid afternoon and he hadn't had his rest time yet) and the heat of the day and partly due to his full bladder that had been put on hold, my 3 year old started to cry. Instead of being the empathetic mother I'm sure I thought I would be before I had children, I became angry. I thought "how dare he cry, when he hasn't lost anything?! It's MY drink on the ground! MY money wasted!"

  After changing wet clothes and wiping up a huge mess, I got to thinking about the situation. I had been so wrong. I felt so bad for the way I'd treated my child over something so insignificant. After all, he is a child. They make mistakes, they spill things, they mess up. He hadn't spilled my drink on purpose; it had been an accident. Then I thought about God and what He must think of the way I handled the situation. Now, I felt really awful. Not only was I not the kind of parent that He wanted to be in that instant, I wasn't the kind of parent that he modeled all the time for me.

  When I mess up (and it's obvious that that's quite often), He doesn't yell at me or reprimand me. Sure there are natural consequences to some of my actions, but He doesn't just let his wrath reign. He is patient and kind and loving and peaceful. He understands mistakes and only asks that we acknowledge them, ask for forgiveness and repent. He would never freak out over spilled lemonade. Truth be told, I've spilled my share of God's amazing drinks and yet here I sit, typing, still as blessed as ever.

  I suddenly feel the need to pray.

  "Father, forgive me. Help me to display the love and forgiveness that you represent and bestow on me everyday. Help me to remember who You are and what You would have me to do in every one of life's sticky situations. Please help my son to forgive me for my anger. Thank you for blessing me beyond what I ask for and for not giving me what I deserve. Thank you in advance for molding me into the woman and mother You want me to be. In Jesus' name, Amen."

Waterpark-ing

Sometimes it's hard to believe that I don't have babies any more. In my mind, they're still so fragile and needy, but in reality, they have been on this planet long enough to have learned some things. They can even say "been there, done that" for a number of things. And today we added to that list.

While it's nostalgic to look at their baby pics, it's exciting to look to the future and all the things we'll be able to do.

We went to a water park! Yes, my little boys are old enough to venture to a water park. I'm still shocked at the realization. It wasn't a full blown amusement park or anything; more like a recreation center with small wading pools and fountains and water slides. And it was awesome.

My 19 month old gave me a glimpse into his future as a teenager and boy was it scary! He was absolutely fearless. Once he adjusted to the cold water and the bigger kids splashing him by accident, he played for hours. Most times he didn't even know where I was in relation to him. He was lost in the atmosphere and loving it. He climbed up the stairs, where he was pelted with shower-like water sprays and even attempted to go down a slide, which was entirely out of the question as far as I was concerned. I had to wrestle him down from the slide area several times, which was met by much kicking and screaming. When he would fall down into the 1 inch of water, he would emerge shaken, but ecstatic--- a true thrill seeker. He made many acquaintances with elementary school aged kids who were amazed by his bravery (foolishness) and wanted to talk to "the baby". He walked around the park like he owned the place, complete with his hands on his hips and pointing at random people and things. He gawked and frowned at the rowdy teenagers on the huge water slides, all the while seeming to try to figure out how he could get into the 5 foot deep pool with them. I  immediately made a mental note to get him into swim lessons ASAP.

Among conquering all things water, he also enjoyed/devoured his first corndog (I figured I could let them indulge in a new junk food to go with a new experience) and cried when it was done; a slight sign that he may still be a baby after all.

My 3 year old was more timid and immensely unappreciative of the aforementioned splashers. He screamed and promptly ran out of the water. I quickly had flashbacks to his trip to Centennial Olympic Park last summer, where he refused (in the form of shrieking and crying) to go near the sprinkling water even though he had been talking about and looking forward to it it for weeks. I was disappointed and wondered how I would be able to keep an eye on the newly discovered fish out of water and the cat refusing to get into the water. Soon my fears were eased as the courage of the 19 month old prompted the 3 year old to find his own inner strength. They began to play together, running and splashing and warming my heart. At home, I am always in the role of the referee because they are rarely ever playing nicely together, as both are in the stages of "mine". At the aquatic center, it was the complete opposite. I basked in the love and care they displayed for each other, holding hands and sharing giggles, not knowing when I would see this side of them again. I was grateful for the blessing of their brotherhood, both for them and myself.

I clearly enjoyed the cold water in the 90+ degree weather, getting more wet then I had intended (a trip to the hair salon is now desperately needed), but it was all worth it. Not only did I get a rare look at the intricate pieces of the personalities of my little ones, I also got a bite of junk food :-) I am already planning my next trip there and praying for God to show me the same grace, so that it can be another memorable outing. Oh, and I hope I actually get non-blurry, smiling simultaneously photos too... too much to ask? Maybe, but   So, here's to hoping God sees the value in helping me fill my scrapbook!

A Mustard Seed

Many Christians are familiar with the verse that says "If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it will obey you." -Luke 17:6. We understand the general sentiment of having just enough belief to be able to make a connection with God, who can make things happen for us. We get and appreciate the concept of giving a little to get a lot. Who wouldn't?

I don't exactly know what a mustard seed looks like, but as an experienced gardener (for all of 3 months now), I do know what a typical seed looks like and let me tell you, it's tiny. As I was planting my veggie garden, I actually mixed seeds by accident (yes, that's how experienced I am) because they were so small I couldn't hold onto them and they just fell into the soil. Imagine a fleck of dandruff on your shirt (not that you have any, but I'm sure you've seen people who do), it's just that small. Sometimes, I just can't fathom why God doesn't demand more of us. He only asks us to have the faith of a mustard seed! Then says that that infinitesimal amount of faith can give us the power to move metaphorical trees. That's some crazy, loving grace right there.

But, most aren't so familiar with a related verse I came across yesterday (and when I say "most" I'm totally just talking about myself). Matthew 13:32 reads, "Though it is the smallest of all your seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and perch in its branches." He's referring to the mustard seed again in this verse. However, now we learn something new about it. Since the connection has already been made between our faith and a mustard seed, I can't help but apply the new knowledge to the old scenario. If mustard seed faith can move trees, what can mustard tree faith do?!

Maybe Jesus wasn't so crazy in accepting mustard seed faith from his believers. He, being the omniscient God that He is, knew that even something as seemingly insignificant as a seed could flower into something useful, incredible, meaningful. The mustard seed becomes shelter for birds, whereas the other seeds don't. While we don't know what those other seeds became, we know they weren't as great as what became of the mustard seed. That could be paralleled in a couple of ways.

     1. The most obvious way is our faith. Our faith can grow just like that seed. Even if at first we falter in our belief, question God and his will and maybe even turn away from Him, if we hold on to a small amount of faith and persevere, we can come out on top. Our faith in God can grow from our experiences with Him. Just like an actual seed, the RAIN of financial difficulties, relational problems and emotional well being mixed with the SUNSHINE of love, contentment and laughter can grow us into awesome trees too. Maybe our tree provides encouragement for our children, hope for our friends and family or love for people who we don't even know. Every tree provides something unique, yet needed. Whatever the case, our minute amount of faith in a God that is greater than all circumstances can develop into a faith that can harness some of that greatness for ourselves.
     2. A less obvious way is as a person. Sometimes we see other people's seeds and assume what their plant will look like or vice versa. For instance, we assume a beautiful woman (seed) will have no problem finding a suitable spouse and bearing equally beautiful children (tree). Sometimes, we see people in church, maybe singing on the choir or teaching Sunday school (tree) and we assume they've got it all together. We may get down on ourselves, believing they had a better seed than we did or wondering why our plant isn't flowering like theirs. But truthfully, we have no clue. Sure they sing in the choir, but maybe God wants you to lead the choir. Maybe they teach Sunday school, but the tree God has planned for you will be running the whole Sunday school department.
     I say all of that to say that we should all be concerned with taking care of our own seed. Making sure that we're utilizing our God-given abilities (seed) the best way we can. We don't know if we're made to be a flowering bush, a fruitful plant, or a sheltering tree, but we'll never find out if we don't tend to our seed. Even if we don't seem as fast or as smart or as talented as others around us, that doesn't mean that we won't be something spectacularly necessary to someone.

God has a plan for all of us. His will for us isn't always easy to understand (okay, let's be honest, it hardly ever is) but it's always for our best. He asks that we trust Him, in the measurement of a mustard seed, and see what happens next. Are you up for the task?

I'm off to go water my garden :-)

Get Thee Behind!

Doesn't the devil ever take a break?!

I think he doesn't. I mean his "kingdom" depends on how much unrest and strife he can bring to the world.

My husband and I were baptized together on Sunday. This was a big deal for us and our family. It meant a lot to us as believers in God. We were dipped in a pool of average, non-magical water, but came up as new creations of the Lord. It's probably a strange ritual to unbelievers, because although it has been blessed by a man of God, our awesome partor, it's still just regular water. The feeling can't be put into words to accurately describe the transformation, but it's real.

The devil must know it's real too and he doesn't like it. His desire is that "your thoughts will be led astray from a sincere and pure devotion to Christ." -2 Corinthians 11:3. And what could be more of an outward testament to that devotion to God than baptism? Right now, the devil is really mad at my household and he's coming after us.

Several small arguments have erupted in my house since Sunday (and yes today is only Tuesday), as well as a few trips down memory lane in the form of ex's crossing our paths. The devil is working overtime, with the hope of his paycheck being in the form of our downfall.

Despite these things, I feel strong, because I know that ultimately he will be defeated by my God. My God doesn't like when the devil messes with his children (like any awesome parent) and He will always have the last word.

So, in the meantime, I have to remember that victory is mine and "no weapon formed against me shall prosper" -Isaiah 54:7. The daily walk of striving to be Christ-like is filled with little traps of the world trying to seduce me to "have fun" and let loose; take a walk on the wild side. Then the wild side becomes the dark side, the devil's house. It's like a scary movie where the windows and doors are unable to be unlocked from inside; you're trapped (insert horror movie music and shuddering here).

Being kind to people and serving in church ministries and spending time with my family are my idea of fun. Being a Christian doesn't mean I'm boring or uptight, it means I have my priorities in order. It also doesn't mean that I don't make mistakes, argue with my husband, resist to forgive others, become jealous or angry, but it does mean that I'm human.

"...despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us" ~Romans 8:37.

So , I leave you with this last verse and hope that you too will fight against those things that threaten to separate you from God.

"Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints." ~Ephesians 6:11-18

Scary Thought

What if God treated us the way we treat other people? I mean, we all know the "golden rule" of do unto others as we would have them do unto us, but what if instead of them doing unto us, God did?

So, for me that would be like Him ignoring my biggest, most incredible prayer requests the way I ignore my kids constant requests for snacks before dinner or juice before bed. I don't think I could deal with that. Scratch that, I KNOW I couldn't deal with that.

I need the hope of a prayer being heard and answered. I need to be able to lean on the promise of "seek and you shall find" (Matthew 7:7). I need to be able to rest on the truth of "peace that surpasses all understanding" (Philippians 4:7).

But what if, because of the way I treat my kids on those really rough days (or okay, just because I'm tired), He decided to do the same to me? What if my actions towards other people directly influenced His actions towards me? What if those promises and proclamations made in the Bible were stripped from me because of my lackluster and sometimes downright mean behavior?

Can you imagine if He gave us what we deserved whenever we did something less than nice? So, instead of the 3 minute time-outs that are commonplace at my house, there could be sudden 27 (insert your age here) minute thunderstorm during which you're locked outside of your house with fresh salon hair and no spare key. And that would be for a "minor" offense, like not tipping your waitress and instead leaving her a note with all of the reasons why she didn't get a tip (I know someone who really does that). We are talking about the God of the universe here, so the possibilities are endless.

This is where I thank God for his grace, mercy and love. This is where I ask Him for forgiveness for my selfishness, impatience and intolerance. This is where I kiss my kids and promise myself to treat them better, even when they don't "deserve" it.

This is also where I make a mental note to always keep an umbrella with me :-)

"So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you..." ~Matthew 7:12

"Whatever you do, work at it wholeheartedly as though you were doing it for the Lord and not merely for people." ~Colossians 2:23

I Got A Feeling

For Lent, my family gave up secular music. It was really difficult for my husband, who has never been a fan of Christian music, contemporary or otherwise. For me, it was easier because I've always liked several different genres of music. The hardest part was my son requesting some of his favorites like "Moves Like Jagger" by Maroon 5 or Adele's "Someone Like You". He protested the music fast so passionately, I thought I would cave in just to have him stop whining for his favorites. It actually hurt my heart to hear him say "no, not that one" or "I don't like it" about the contemporary Christian songs I was starting to like. I felt like I'd done him a disjustice by not exposing him to enough Godly music (besides the songs we sang at home). Because of his extreme low tolerance for our new music of choice, I was actually even more determined to make it through the 40 days, hoping to change his mind and heart.


Through the fast, I grew to love new artists I'd never heard of, like Brandon Heath (my favorite is "Your Love") and rekindled my love for those I already knew, like rockstar TobyMac. Even with my newfound appreciation for positive, uplifting music, it was difficult to get my favorite secular tunes out of my head and even those that weren't my favorite, but I found myself singing anyway. It was around week 4 when I would hear myself humming a song from 104.7 The Fish (the station which suggested the music challenge) and actually turn it on to listen for specific songs I'd begun to really enjoy. My 3 year old was still not a happy camper about the challenge, but he was more receptive to the songs.


By the end of the music challenge, I no longer had a craving for the newest Beyonce song, although I did hum it when I heard it. When my husband came home from work, the usual profane and sex laden lyrics he use to spew were replaced by Kirk Franklin and holy hip hop artist Canton Jones. He even went so far as to change his ringtone and download Christian songs onto both of our phones for anytime listening! I am truly amazed and awed by this small, yet massive transformation in him. I feel the positive music has seeped into our thirsty souls and stirred up something in us. Now, weeks past the end of Lent, we're still listening primarily to Christian music and loving it.


And my opinionated little one? He recognizes the music change and even knows which songs are "mommy's song". He is much more open-minded towards the music and has even been spotted bobbing his head and humming along to the spiritual music.


Surrounding ourselves with lyrics that uplifted God, reminded us of his grace, love and hope, and encouraged us to press on has really made a difference in our home. It feels so good to have positive words floating through my head, rather than those of heartbroken or angry lovers. Of course, I'm still a fan of lots of neo soul musicians, like Maxwell (my wedding song is courtesy of him) and some pop artists too (hence the Black Eyed Peas post title), but my enjoyment of Christian music has been increased tremendously. Variety is the spice of life, right? Secular music isn't extinct for our family, but if we can serve God in as small a way as listening to different music and delight in it, we are willing to try.