Hope, personified...

It's meant to be a reflective day, this final day of the year. Three hundred and sixty-five days ago we were all doing the same thing--being contemplative.
Perhaps some of us spend the day reflecting on the year that is finishing, and all we've survived. Some years are like that, aren't they? If you journal (or blog) it's fascinating to look back and view the trail of events throughout the months. In my reflection, I am always surprised to see what I survived, and how God truly walked me through things that I'm glad I didn't know we're coming. I might have run for the hills had I known in advance! But, I see His hand throughout, holding me close.

I took a look at photos on weather.com of the disasters from 2011. Wow! It was an eventful year! It made me thankful. Thankful that my family is together and safe.

I truly write from a thankful heart. Each moment of each new day, there is so much to be thankful for.

Though it is interesting to look back, I find it much more intriguing to look ahead. Though I can't see what's coming, I am full of hope--eager to see what amazing things God has in store.
I have a precious little Jack Russell named Lily who is hope, personified. Well, I'm not sure I can use the word "personified" about a dog, but you get the point.

She is so smart! If she hears me open the veggie drawer in the fridge and get out the veggie peeler, she will come running from across the house hoping that I'm peeling carrots--a messy job for me which means scraps for her. She also knows the sound of the cheese grater (another messy job), and just let me open a rotisserie chicken, or pull one out of a pot to take the meat off! How she can wait for hours with hope blooming in her little doggy heart waiting for one little possible morsel of chicken fat is beyond me. Nothing can distract her. She waits expectantly.

That is how I look forward to 2012. The outcome is unclear at this point. I don't know the events that will unfold. I do, however, believe deep in my very soul that God has amazing plans in store for me. That at the end of this year, I will see the bumps in the road that I have traveled over the year, but more importantly, I will see how I was delivered into a place of gratefulness knowing that I was taken care of. Because I always get much, much more than just a carrot peeling or a chicken scrap. I have feasted on blessings too numerous to count.

I have set some goals for the upcoming year. Not resolutions. Though I appreciate the concept of making a resolution, In the past, I have lacked the resoluteness to follow through. So I've set some goals. Things I want to learn. Ways in which I'd like to be better. To start, I have been memorizing Scripture. I leave you with a portion I've been memorizing this week. May it stir your heart with gratitude as it has mine.

Psalm 139

 1 O LORD, You have searched me and known me.
 2 You know my sitting down and my rising up;
         You understand my thought afar off.
 3 You comprehend my path and my lying down,
         And are acquainted with all my ways.
 4 For there is not a word on my tongue,
         But behold, O LORD, You know it altogether.
 5 You have hedged me behind and before,
         And laid Your hand upon me.
 6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
         It is high, I cannot attain it.
         
 7 Where can I go from Your Spirit?
         Or where can I flee from Your presence?
 8 If I ascend into heaven, You are there;
         If I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there.
 9 If I take the wings of the morning,
         And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
 10 Even there Your hand shall lead me,
         And Your right hand shall hold me.
 11 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall fall on me,”
         Even the night shall be light about me;
 12 Indeed, the darkness shall not hide from You,
         But the night shines as the day;
         The darkness and the light are both alike to You.
         
 13 For You formed my inward parts;
         You covered me in my mother’s womb.
 14 I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
         Marvelous are Your works,
         And that my soul knows very well.
 15 My frame was not hidden from You,
         When I was made in secret,
         And skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.
 16 Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed.
         And in Your book they all were written,
         The days fashioned for me,
         When as yet there were none of them.
         
 17 How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God!
         How great is the sum of them!
 18 If I should count them, they would be more in number than the sand;
         When I awake, I am still with You....
         
         
 ...23 Search me, O God, and know my heart;
         Try me, and know my anxieties;
 24 And see if there is any wicked way in me,
         And lead me in the way everlasting."

A sad day, indeed

We said "Good-bye" today to our kitty. Seventeen and a half years ago we took in our very first pet--a precious gray and white kitten. In that much time (almost half of my life!), we enjoyed a legend and his many lives--far more than nine!

This was our cat who was declawed as a kitten and then decided he wanted to live outside as well as in. Our cat who terrorized neighborhood dogs ten times his size.
He climbed trees and ladders and played on rooftops. He hunted daily and brought us those yucky, dead animal treasures--all with no claws.

(This picture was taken just a few months ago as, at age 17, he waited for hours to catch some little creature. Eventually, he fell asleep on duty.)

When we moved across town, he moved with us and then came up missing. After about three days we found him on the front porch of our old house, surely wondering where his family had gone. How a cat found his way several miles back "home" is a bit of a mystery. We retrieved him and then it seemed he understood and stayed put to learn his new neighborhood.

He took naps in the middle of the road.
He got into fights with raccoons, opossums, squirrels, dogs, and other cats. From his battle wounds we got to see his insides several times--science class, right? We pulled at least a dozen ticks of our little feline.

He survived the acquisition of three more cats and two dogs to our family, and upon every new pet's arrival, he would just look at us like, "Really? We're doing this again?!"
He chased my kids when they were toddlers, and bit their little bottoms, and then snuggled with them on the couch.
He learned how to open round, metal doorknobs out of sheer determination, and even unlock doors when desperate enough.

He was truly the stuff kitty legends are made of, and we loved him dearly.

Loving a pet brings an awful lot of joy. And it brings tough days like today. Days that make you wonder about the worth of inviting love and the inevitable pain it brings in.
Life is like that, isn't it? The deeper we love, the greater the risk, reward, and then unfortunately, sometimes the pain. Makes you wonder about the guy who stated that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
And then you don't.

At the end of the day, Rajah's Christmas ornament got hung at the top of the tree, and after some reminiscing and some tears, a couple of parents are wondering when we got old enough to handle the tough stuff like this.
And life goes on.
And we keep it all in perspective because, though this wasn't our favorite day, we are healthy and have more pets to love, and a whole family as well.

And, as strange as it sounds, it reminds me of a certain rhythm that life has. And that God is in control and knows and sees and cares--even about the little things that matter more than a little to our hearts.

And what a beautiful thing it is when hurting hearts are drawn together.

Spoiled rotten

Amidst all the hurry and scurry and buying and wrapping and baking and planning and parties and noise that is Christmas, there are some things running around in my brain. Maybe it's because I'm not doing much of these things this year, rather watching it all happen around me. 
As I have already shared in a blog about Christmas, we pare it wayyyy down around here. In fact, the only Christmas presents given this year are one per family member given via Secret Santa. With a small dollar limit, we all have had to get creative and thoughtful to buy for one person in this house. I can hardly wait to see who has who and what everyone came up with.

As a family, we were talking about the perception children have of their family's financial status. When our kids were little, money was often tight, but we did our very best to never let them know that. In fact, recently one of ours said they thought we were rich because of how many toys were in the toy room! 
The other day, Justin said that once, as a little boy, he had eaten stuffed crust pizza and heard it was more expensive than regular pizza so in order to never ask too much--though it was his favorite--he never asked for it again. We never knew this, and how much he loved it, so we never bought stuffed crust until recently, and now he eats it like he may never have it again. ;o)

I remember feeling guilty as a child because I needed a winter coat. I had heard my mom approach my dad with this need, and I can vividly picture the whole scene as my dad struggled with how to tell my mom he didn't really have the money for that. As a result, I tried very hard not to need too much.

We also talked the other day as a family about kids we have observed who get anything and everything they want.

Spoiled: to do harm to the character, nature, or attitude of by oversolicitude, overindulgence, or excessive praise.
Rotten: made weak or unsound by rot

Eventually, given all we want, we become rotten, and it has the potential to ruin us.

Have you watched the newest version of Willy Wonka lately? Next time you do, observe the different faces of the spoiled rotten. There is the over-indulged child whose weight reflects his need to stuff his face with all the junk he can fit in, and his mommy loves to watch him eat it all. There is the picture-perfect wealthy girl who demands from her Daddy, "I want it now!", and he gives it to her. It goes on and on...

"A happy childhood has spoiled many a promising life."--Robertson Davies

I've been guilty of buying my kids things to try to show them love. Haven't we all at some point? But, isnt the real trick to balance that desire for them to HAVE with teaching them to appreciate what they've been given? 
From an early age, we have taught our three to work for what they have. They all found ways to earn money and they save their money and buy their own cars and pay for their own gas and cell phones. 
Since this is not exactly typical, there have been times where we felt like really mean parents as our kids have had older cars than their friends and tracfones instead of iPhones. It's really not easy telling your kids, "no," is it? But, now, I have to say, the pay-off is bigger than I can imagine as I have hard-working, responsible kids who appreciate the things they have earned and know how to save money.
At times, I'm sure our kids felt like we were unfair, but now, they thank us for teaching them that money doesn't, in fact, grow on trees. I am quite sure that there was never a moment where our kids felt less loved than the other kids because we didn't hand them everything. They have always known that we just don't show love that way.

Do we, as parents, equate how much we give our children with how much we love them? Do they judge our love for them by how much they have? 

Is my standard for how loved I am directly related to what I think I deserve from someone? Who, then, determines what the standard is?
If I don't get the things I want, am I not very loved, after all?

Okay, now flip all this and think about how you and I behave with God.
He gives and gives and gives...ad infinitum...
We take and take and take...ad nauseum...and want more and ask for more and think we deserve more. And the minute things don't go the way we think they should, we figure we must not be loved that much after all.  Because what kind of God would say "no" to those He says He loves? What kind of Father would teach His children through discipline instead of spoiling them rotten with all the things they are sure are the best for them?
How many of us are the girl demanding from her Daddy, "I want it now!"?
How quickly we make God's love conditional and return ours to Him based on conditions!

I heard a song the other day. It really got me thinking. Some of those things we are sure we want and that we pray for may not be the best that God has for us. After all, His view of our little lives may just include a bit more perspective. As much as I think I want or need something, it may not be the very best for me. 

What if I'm so busy living for right now that I miss the whole, big picture? 

The truth is, most times I do feel spoiled by my God. He has truly been so good to me. Anything I have that is good has come from His hand. But, now, I rethink the word spoiled. That is not what I want to be. Basking in His grace and washed in His love. Grateful for His favor. Yup, that's more like it.
And when the metaphorical rain falls, He has a plan for me--much greater than what I can see. His promises are enough for me to hold on to.

Please, take five minutes and listen to this song. As a gift to me, please listen to this song, and tell me what you think.

Why Am I Here, Anyway?

“Spread the love of God through your life but only use words when necessary.” ― Mother Teresa

I got a tough phone call yesterday. It was from my cousin and she was calling to tell me that her mom, and also my favorite aunt, is quite ill. The doctors have said that she is full of cancer. I hate diagnoses. They don't leave much room for hope, do they? Unless, of course, you realize that just because it's said doesn't make it so. There always has to be room for God to do His thing no matter what any man says.

Anyway, this shook me up a bit. Here's why.
To say that my family was dysfunctional may just be the understatement of the year. On both my mother's and my father's side, there are a couple dozen messes. So much so that there were never family get-togethers to speak of, no one spent holidays together, or if they did, my immediate family was not involved.
Most on my mother's side do not speak to each other and haven't for as long as I can remember--that family is completely splintered. In short, if I had lived in Tennessee once upon a time, I may have been named Hatfield or McCoy.
My dad had four brothers. Put them together and they looked like they were mafia brothers.

(My dad (Ralph), Uncle Marv, Uncle Harry, Uncle Stan around 1981)

Simply the funniest people you'd ever meet. I loved them all dearly. Get those four together and the hysterical belly laughter could soften the hardest of hearts. Except my mother apparently. It never quite got said, but there is a reason that my dad began to be very isolated from the group, and I'm quite sure it had to do with her. We stopped having family Christmases with my dad's side when I was probably three. And the times the brothers were together were few and far between from there.

(This is me and my Uncle Harry at one of the last Christmases our family spent with my dad's side)

So, needless to say, some of my almost sheer panic when I first began attending the GIANT gatherings that my husband's families held, may have been just because I had never experienced such a thing. To be surrounded by people who actually liked each other and so very many of them completely overwhelmed this girl!

Then, in the more recent past, add to the mix the fact that no one from either side really knew much at all of what I lived with in regards to my parents and the circumstances in which they died--well, let's just say most of my parents' families had no clue what to do with me, and several want nothing to do with me.
Except a certain few that I can count on one hand. And, boy, did they do their best to love me. My Aunt Doris and Uncle Harry began calling me and coming to visit me and making a sincere effort in my childrens' lives. Aunt Doris staunchly defended me when it was necessary and her family showed their support as well. She would kiss me square on the mouth and tell me how much she had always loved me and say, "Honey, none of us will ever know what you went through, but I always knew something wasn't right." As an adult, I got to know an aunt that I never even knew I had.

She was one of the "gap-fillers" God has given me here and there just to show me what real love feels like.

A word has been on my mind lately.
PURPOSE--Noun: The reason for which something is done or created, or for which something exists.
I was thinking about this word today as I prayed for my aunt and her family, and I realized something. I did not get the privilege to know my aunt or uncle, or any of my cousins, for that matter, very well when I was little. I don't know what she accomplished or may be known for. I know she makes great baked beans and grilled cheese (she told me a couple of her secrets for their yumminess), but beyond that, all I know is how she makes me feel. She simply loves me. I have a feeling that if I asked her daughters and grandkids, they might say the very same thing. In her own special way, she just took care of everyone around her. She found purpose in taking an orphaned niece under her wing. When she gets to heaven, I know she will grasp how priceless that was to me.

Some times we know exactly what our purpose is. After I wrote this post about purpose, I spent time with a friend who is absolutely giddy because she knows that she knows exactly where God has placed her for such a time as this. I had to come back and write that in because there are times when purpose is very evident and exciting.
But, more often than not, I see people wrestle with knowing their purpose.
Think of a man age 50 and beyond who may not know where in the world he is supposed to lead and you will see exactly what I mean. I watched my dad slide downhill as soon as he thought he lost his value. I've seen it many, many times.
Listen to the cry of the heart of a stay-at-home momma who wonders if wiping bottoms and washing dishes is all she is good for.
The examples are truly endless. We all wrestle at some point or another with where we fit in. And if we know God has plans for us, many times we are desperately searching for meaning and purpose.
There is a big lie being sold to a starving market. It comes in a million shiny packages and whatever it looks like to one person, whatever bar they have set for themselves and labeled "SUCCESS" makes everything else look shabby and worthless.
This bar may be wealth, or accomplishment. It can come in the form of items or achievements. But whatever "it" is, it says that anything less is a failure.

What if success doesn't look like a house or car or even a successful ministry? What if success cannot be defined by net worth or gained in any collegiate course?
What if it's a simple as this: that at the end of the day, everyone you came into contact with felt loved?

“Everytime you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.”

We can run in circles our whole lives trying to look successful and find our grand purpose. Or we can follow in the footsteps of One Who spent His entire life pouring out love on everyone around Him--deserving or not.
He gave us each a certain area of effectiveness. The Bible calls them talents. The story is a good one and it is found in Matthew 25:14-30. Around here, we talk about this often. What are my "talents"? I don't mean this literally, as in how am I talented, rather, what has God given me that I am responsible to take care of? How do I serve well with what I have been given so that I am found worthy of more?
More chances to love and to serve, not to acquire. More chances to honor the Giver of all good gifts by treating well the gifts I've been given.

“Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.”

What if my purpose is just to pour out love? What if everyone God put into my life felt loved by me, and every day I listened carefully for the whisper of my Creator to put me in the path of someone who just needed to know what love felt like--wherever that should take me?

What if I was made just for that? It worked pretty well for Jesus, didn't it?
It's so simple, but is it enough? If my name was never up in lights for being the most and best of anything, did I fulfill my purpose? Was I a success?

I hope I get to tell my Aunt Doris what a success I think she has been. How she had a hand in shaping one, very grateful heart.

“Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin.”

If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing. If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.--1 Corinthians 13:1-3

“I am not sure exactly what heaven will be like, but I know that when we die and it comes time for God to judge us, He will not ask, 'How many good things have you done in your life?' rather He will ask, 'How much love did you put into what you did?”

“What can you do to promote world peace? Go home and love your family.”


*All quotes by Mother Teresa

Christmas Strangely Simplified

Ahhh...what a nice Friday morning. I wake up in my snuggly bed after a great night of sleep following a lovely Thanksgiving. My husband is home and doesn't have to work today. I open my iPad and check my mail and eventually my Facebook page to see most of my friends have been up all night getting deals on presents.
There is talk of folks getting trampled and stabbed on their way to buy a TV or a toy. Now that stores open on Thanksgiving Day people actually say that they get less time with their family eating turkey, but the good news is they will be able to provide better presents on Christmas.

I don't get it.

I just don't, but again, this is where I'm weird.
I do understand that there is such a thing as the thrill of the hunt. After all, I've been a coupon queen for well over four years. I know all about saving a buck. I even understand the fun of a tradition of going to do something out of the ordinary with girlfriends or family members and shopping like crazy, though sleep has always won out for this girl.

Maybe I've never done it because in the past money was always tight in our house since birthday season directly precedes Black Friday.

This year, I find myself really delving in to the "why's" of the way our family celebrates Christmas. It's certainly not the first year we have broken tradition with the way we do things. It's certainly not the only way our family does things differently. But this year we have had some questions asked. People are trying to figure us out. Ha! Good luck!

Here's why. When the kids were little, we did "the thing". For the holidays we tried to run from one family celebration to the other. We spent money we didn't really have to make sure that everyone we loved got a gift. Santa came--boy, did he--and we had a blast enjoying that. I loved the look on my kids' faces Christmas morning as they viewed the mountain of presents more than any thing in the whole world. We spent money we didn't really have to make sure they had the Christmas I dreamed of.
As they got older, and frankly, Christmas got trickier due to family situations, some of the joy faded. Not only did their presents become pricier as we started shopping at Apple.com instead of Toys r Us, but it seemed that the previous Christmas and all the gifts that were so important that year had gotten lost somewhere in their memory and mattered much less than they cost. This is not to say my kids aren't grateful. They are the most grateful, thoughtful givers and receivers, but maybe "stuff" just doesn't stand out in their minds that much.

Also, our love of travel grew exponentially...
So...somewhere along the way, we ditched the whole thing, kit and caboodle, and celebrated Christmas elsewhere without gifts and without a ham. In fact, our Christmases have included seashells, and plane rides, and coastlines from California to Florida. We've gone from turkey to tacos and ham to Hibachi.

And somewhere in there we've slowed down the pace and found Christmas in a whole new way.

Lately, Addie has been asked at work about her family. It seems we are intriguing. They can't decide what category to put us in. They hear about our kids who stay out of trouble. They hear that we homeschool. They know we aren't actively involved in a specific church at the moment. They hear we don't do Christmas.
There's a lot of "weirdness" that we don't even publicize. Things that make us different. And, quite honestly, things people don't really want to know. I'm not trying to be mysterious, but our decisions isolate us enough already. I certainly don't need to spell them out further. As God allows, I'm sure things will come out as I continue to write.

We DO believe Christmas is worth celebrating. It's a beautiful holiday in its simplest meaning. Perhaps, like so many other things, it's gotten a bit out of hand. Maybe, just maybe, it's turned into a "thing we do" without even thinking about it. But, maybe I'm all wrong. I am constantly in a place of questioning. Or maybe just looking underneath things.

That is what happened to our family. We began to look deeper. And as He so often does, God showed us gently, one thing at a time, that just because everybody's doing something, it may not be the right thing for us.

I am NOT criticizing presents at Christmas. Just like I'm not here to criticize where anyone else sends their kids to school or anything else anyone does. In one way, I love presents at Christmas and wish I was giving and getting a whole bunch of them! I hesitate to share what we do because people tend to get defensive as if I'm saying our way is right and yours is wrong. It couldn't be farther from the truth.
Our journey is our journey and yours is yours, and I pray a lot that God will help me continue to mind my own business. I'm a huge fan of that concept.

I'm just sharing a bit of this path I've been on. It's meant to be reflective.

Just like this Christmas will be. Wherever my family finds itself this year--maybe it will be drinking egg nog and opening some great gifts with family. Maybe it will be at a Sonic eating Chili Cheese Tots in Kentucky. I really don't know.

What I do know is that there is more to the story. Just like with our family. We might present ourselves as pretty odd. Ask us anything. We are more than happy to share how we got here.
But I guarantee there is more to the story than how it appears.

This Christmas, consider looking deeper. Under the layers of wrapping paper, pretty lights, and carols, there's a really profound Truth. It's about a baby--but not just an ordinary baby. It was the birth of Grace. It was the beginning of freedom from the system that made every one else run around like chickens with their heads cut off looking for peace. He's right there waiting for you with open arms.

Once you know that Truth, it will set you free--PRICELESS!

Food for thought

Momma-isms Part Two

I knew this would happen. I knew I would post Momma-isms and then come up with more as time went on. I just say way too many things around here to sum them up as quickly as I did.
Now, if I wrote a post about the crappy things I said, you'd all quit reading, but since there are a few good things here and there, I'd rather draw your attention, and that of my family, to those. That way, it's written down for all to see and the crappy things I've said are deniable. :o)

Well, I do have to say, in my own defense, I don't think anyone who lives here would ever say that I insult or intentionally hurt someone's feelings. I believe much too strongly in the power of words. I might, however, be accused of nagging reminding people too often of things that need to get done or correcting suggesting better ways to do things.

So, back to the things I'd like for them to remember.

1. You're responsible for you.
That's it.

You don't need to fix anyone else,

worry about what they are up to,

or be concerned about their words.

At the end of the day, between you and God, all that you are responsible for is the way you behaved, treated others, and spoke. Despite what others said or did. No matter how much you think you're justified in noticing and/or commenting on their behavior.

You're only responsible for you.
Adults may need this reminder hourly. It would help us remember not to judge, wouldn't it? I also say that you never know what someone else is going through until you've walked in their shoes. I say that from experience after having been judged for decisions I made knowing people could never have understood the road I had traveled.
We base our judgments on how our view has been flavored by our own circumstance. Every single person is doing the same thing. No one sees this world through the same colored glasses.

And, we can't save anyone. This one is tough. We may think we have every answer, but in the end, no one needs our opinion unless they've asked for it. No one needs our answers unless they are ready to hear them. As far as saving goes, isn't God big enough to draw folks to Him without our interference? His job, and He's awesome at it, is to prepare hearts to be ready to hear what He has to say. Our job is to be available and listening for a chance to share our story. Not to have the answers and cram them down someone's throat. Most likely they will be thrown right back into our face.
And, that counts for our spouse (and don't we just know EVERYTHING they need to fix!), our children, and those out there who just don't have it all together the way we do (insert sarcasm here).

Love speaks much louder than opinion.
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And, frankly, I have enough to do to keep track of myself and my own behavior. I don't even have time to worry about yours!
I'm just going to live out the love I've been shown and let that speak instead of feeling the need to go around sharing my opinion.
Except, of course, this blog which is entirely my opinion, but you choose whether or not you want to see it so that doesn't count.

2. I can't hear you when you whine.
Haha! That one is still funny to me. I can distinctly remember when my kids were going through that whiny stage that happens somewhere between the ages of four and seven. They would say something to me 497 times in that horrible voice that only a tired, cranky, somewhat desperate child that age has until I finally learned to say, "I can't hear you when you whine. When you decide to be calm and talk to me in a normal voice and ask me nicely, I will listen." Then, I set my jaw, bit my tongue almost off, and ignored them until they could take a deep breath and calm down and present me with something worth my time.
It really worked.
And, it makes me wonder how many times God may be saying, in a much better way than I ever could, "Alison, I just can't hear you when you whine. If you would change your tone and take a deep breath and remember Who I Am, I would love to listen to you. I love you and what you need matters to me, but the way your presenting it is wearing you, and quite frankly Me out."
Yes, I know all too well that I can't wear God out. Thank goodness, or He would have had enough of me a LONG time ago. It was for the sake of the point, and I just made it to myself.

3. Friendship starts here first.
Coming from a family in which no one got along--ever--it was my goal to live in a family in which loving each other was priority number two (right after loving God). I learned quickly in this new family we were creating, that a successful relationship needs time and attention and an awful lot of tenderness.

When priorities fall outside the lines of a family, the family relationships suffer. Period.

When my kids would fight and squabble, I would remind them that their sibling is their best friend for the rest of their life. If we can't succeed at that then we won't spend time on friendships outside until we figure it out. Sleep-overs and playdates got cancelled until we learned how to get along at home.

It still holds true, despite the fact that my kids are much more grown. The relationships they have built with each other still feel like a phenomenon to me every time I see how closely intertwined they are. It's a beautiful thing. They are-well, we all are-very closely knit in this home; and because we made that a priority, relationships have been forged that will stand strong.
I'm amazed at what God has made out of so little.

4. Greedy or grateful?
I thought of this yesterday as I felt sorry for myself about a certain situation in which things didn't exactly go my way. I may have thrown what we call in this house a "baby fit." Or, I may not have. I'll never tell the details, that's for sure. But, I did have a little talk with myself, and those words came to mind.
When my kids demanded that extra thing, and were very sure they should get their way, I would simply say, "Are you being greedy or grateful?"
That stings, doesn't it? We want what we want when we want it. We really aren't very accustomed to waiting, or heaven forbid, being told "No."
Let me just encourage you with this. Look around you. We are blessed. We don't go hungry. We are healthy and well-provided for. Complaining at all makes us sound greedy. And, I just wrote all of that for my very own self.

5. People will always let you down.
I know this sounds so negative, but it's really about expectations. Often, we put expectations on people that aren't fair to them and they are based on our own need. Then, we get upset because they didn't meet that expectation, and we hold it against them. I still do it--often. I think it might be human nature. But it really sets us up to fail, and to be let down.
No one could ever possibly live up to someone else's expectations.
We need to work hard enough just to be authentic; to love the way we love, to behave the way we behave and to let that be good enough. Ultimately, though that means we will let people down. There is really only One true constant in this world. Only One Who never changes and is always enough. It would be wise of us to remember that.

I have some amazing friends and extended family. I'm excited to hear some of your wisdom. Please comment here, and share some of your Momma-isms.

Baby, it's cold!

Winter began its journey to my neighborhood today.

I'm not a fan.

As I type, the frigid wind is howling outside my window. The temperature has dropped twenty degrees in just a few hours. Snow is predicted. Thousands of folks are without power tonight. We, Michiganders, are bracing ourselves for what is predicted to be one heck of an onslaught--for the next, oh, five ridiculous months or so.

Really, when it's January here, and we have carved our car out of some ridiculous ice-encrusted snowbank to drive through winds that blow the blinding snow into such a frenzy that we cannot see our hand in front of our face let alone use that hand to attempt to wipe the snot-cicle dangling from our nose so that we can fetch some variety of food that doesn't need to be cooked in case the ice has frozen the power lines--AGAIN--while we huddle together in the house with mittens and hats and oh-so-sexy thermal underwear under layers of blankets and ten pairs of socks...

...all we've really got is that high-five to the other surviving Michigander, and the ability to brag to each other about how gosh-darn hearty Michiganders are.



I'm so excited.
(Insert sarcasm here.)




I wanna be a baby snowbird, and fly away to warmer climes where vitamin D is given in a daily dose of sunshine, and people high five each other for outsmarting the system and escaping the ridiculous north. The place where you chuckle at the old guys in their stocking caps and scarves when the temp dips to a nippy 55 degrees.

I find myself feeling that way, too, lately when it comes to the kind of emotional struggle that whips my metaphorical hair back and forth (sorry for the badly used song lyric, but it makes sense as I write.) I sometimes just wanna run away--as if it's really possible to escape.

I was reading a fictional--yet accurate enough to also be somewhat nonfictional--account of the life of John Bunyan. No relation to the big guy with the ax and a big blue ox. Rather, the one who wrote Pilgrim's Progress. Fascinating story. One of those books that taught me more in story form than all of my years of history put together.
It also appealed to my sense of anti-establishment...ism (pretty sure that's a new word), as it dealt with the religion of the day and its polluted grasp on lives.
Before you hate, please read some of my other posts regarding the difference between religion and faith. Faith is what makes my heart beat. Religion isn't even for the birds.

Anyway, the woman in this story was wondering how so many things could go wrong in her life when she had dedicated herself fully to serving and living the very best life for God that she knew how. She kept claiming the verse about all things working together for good for her, yet stuff happened. The winds kept blowing her nice orderly world around like they probably are my garbage can at this very moment.
She was challenged by a friend who asked her if the only blessings in her life were the good things. Wait. What? Like, let's consider for one second that the bad things that have happened to us could be--BLESSINGS?
Well, this is how she explained it. She said, "Hardships are the Lord's greatest blessing to the believer. Without them we would love the Lord only for what He does for us. Our troubles teach us to love Him for Who He is."*

That's it--in a hard-to-look-at-nutshell. Troubles either turn us into blamers looking every which way to blame, and become bitter, and excuse bad behavior; or they bring us to our knees where we seek out our only true source of love.
Take our kids for instance. No matter how old or young they may be, if they get caught with their hand in the proverbial cookie jar, what's the first response? Blame. Excuses. Hiding from the ensuing trouble.
What if, instead of those options, our difficult, mouthy, teenager with every answer fell weeping and genuinely remorseful at our feet and pleaded with us to hold them and make it all better? Wouldn't we melt? Isn't that where they should be? Safe with the one who loves them unconditionally, and has the power to comfort and help heal their broken heart?

When my world got rocked, I fell down. And the only face I saw was the only One Who could hold me close enough to heal my heart. He's not some
"man upstairs" waiting to hand out consequences to His badly behaved children. He's not a genie in a bottle passing out blessings to the best little brown-nosers in the class.

He is the love of our lives--waiting for us to catch on to that.

That's what I learned. I wouldn't trade that for anything. No one, ever, in this whole wide world can take that from me. That love is right there waiting on the other side of all the blame and excuses.

It's like finding a tropical paradise, complete with a lazy river, in the middle of your living room on January 15th in Michigan. Priceless.

So, what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose? If God didn't hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending his own Son, is there anything else he wouldn't gladly and freely do for us? And who would dare tangle with God by messing with one of God's chosen? Who would dare even to point a finger? The One who died for us—who was raised to life for us!—is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us. Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ's love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins listed in Scripture...
...None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us. I'm absolutely convinced that nothing—nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable—absolutely nothing can get between us and God's love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.
Romans 8:31-40


Excerpt from The Preacher's Wife by Jody Hedlund
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad