Hubs secret talent

Click here to see what my husbands secret talent is. Ohhh, he’s so gonna be the resident scrapbooker. He did a great job on the page for the pre-school binder. Every week one child from the class gets to take home “Dash” the dog and write and take pictures about their weekend. It turned out really cute! Thanks Steph:)

DashAndOwen

Local Man Seen Crying in Park

Reading Mark 13, 14 this morning…I can’t imagine what Jesus was going through. He cried out to the father to ask if dying for the world could be somehow removed from Him, wow. He lay on his face in a garden weeping and asking God to remove the cup from Him.

35 And going a little farther, he fell on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him.
36 And he said, “Abba, Father, all things are possible for you. Remove this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.”

He was a great teacher, a man of miracles, the savior of the world, yet he had feelings and hurts like we do, we can relate to Him in that way. In the looming face of death and torture, He submitted to the will of God, He wiped His tears, gathered the disciples and threw Himself headlong into ultimate cruixifiction and death, this was no fairy tale. Can you picture this man, strong and leathered? He was a carpenter, He had strong hands that were probably calloused and worn. Can you picture Him as he pulls himself off the ground and wipes away His tears? That image tears at my heart.

It’s so easy to try and discount the story as unbelievable, to reduce it to nothing more than an old story passed down from Grandma. The reality is this, we have so much evidence that this story was much more than that, it was the very act of God. A God that exists in an expansive universe that created us to be His people, knowing we’d reject Him. He sent a man, perfect in every way to give His life in sacrifice for us. Is it possible that this Jesus really was the son of God and lives today in the hearts of men and women everywhere? Is it possible that this Jesus wants to communicate with you? Today? Whatever palace or pit your fractured soul exists He wants in too.
 
I am willing to believe the story and embrace it in my daily life. If God’s standard is perfection, how will we ever measure up? The bible says that man is as thilfthy rags, and we are. Think about the thoughts you have when you know no one can hear or see them, we are flawed, greatly and immeasurably. 

We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment. We all fade like a leaf, and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away. Isaiah 64:6

Here is my problem today; my savior loved us greatly, but in that moment He didn’t really want to die. He cried out and asked God if there was another way, but there was not. So my Jesus got up, brushed Himself off and walked into a destination of death, to give me life beyond the reality I know today. That is unspeakably, unfathomably, unforgettably loving…

So, today I pose this question, what are we going to do about it?

Enter title here

This is going to be UR, that’s ultra random for those not in my head. I haven’t updated in a while and I have precisely 5 min, 25 seconds before I need to wake the children. Here goes…

Mesha is home and has been for a few months, she came back three weeks after she left. We are still in the midst of the parental tight rope walk and I maintain an exercise of laying it all out before God. I can do nothing more than give control to the God of the universe. It is…what it is, many have walked the way of the wild teen before, and many will walk it again, including my own parents.  The secrets of life may be whispered but will fall on deaf ears, each man must travel the broken road before he can take the keys of life to heart.  She’s going to make it back to level ground, and I will be there at the end to help pull her up…when she asks. I have learned one thing though, there’s grace enough for all of us.

It’s raining this morning, it’s like a baptism for my soul.

It’s three minutes past time to wake the children. I have no dinner plans for my family. I have a four-hour meeting today. Stephan and I are seriously considering running a 5k on my birthday. I just heard one of the children do the wake-up whine, moms know what I mean by that. As for the 5k, we plan on training with the ‘Couch to 5k’ plan. I think it will be good for us, we’re going to make it a big deal. We have some friends that ran half marathon together, they had pictures and an awesome plaque made, I think we’ll do that too. Wouldn’t that be a gas, a big plaque for our 5k, seriously, we’d deserve one if we follow through.

Gotta go, the dude is calling. Have a blessed day.

Check this out…

This a new group from Cross Movement, they have a fresh new sound, a funky vibe, ot makes you want to nod your head, and get your Jesus on…

Insert Cliche here

The best one I have heard lately is, “They really just don’t get it.” I am referring to teenagers, young adults, generation now.  The cliche can apply to lots of things but what I am referring to is complacency, let’s talk Facebook…

I have a teenager, I know lot’s of teens, neighbors, friends, relatives etc. and the one thing they all have in common is facebook. It will be interesting to see how this social networking things plays out, but in the mean time, here’s my issue. Many young people have thousands of friends, and believe it or not some of their friends are the newly tech informed grandma, grandpa, aunts, uncles, neighbors, etc. Many people like  to post song lyrics they identify with as their status. Now, there is a big difference between Lil’ Wayne and Jim Croce, or Lady GaGa and Karen Carpenter. So, young people, if you wouldn’t go up to your grandma/grandpa/aunt/uncle/or neighbor and say, “I wanna take a ride on your disco stick,” then why would it make sense to post it on facebook when grandma and grandpa have a vested interest in their newfound techy pastime and their grandteens life.  I won’t even reduce myself to writing Lil’ Wayne lyrics here, I just don’t understand the utter and complete lack of respect, I don’t understand the lack of concern for image.

I realize that it’s an awesome thing when you are grandparent and you friend request that special grandchild or younger person you know, and you realize they have approved your request and viola, you’re in the club…then the status’ start rolling in. I am NOT a grandparent, but I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve sat and shook my head after reading the status’ of young people I know. I mean, have you no shame? Why not just remove the older people on your friends list? I hate to say this, but I have to wonder, do they just. not. care.

If the issue is utter lack of concern for the opinions of elders in their lives, we are in for a harsh reality, and one that I am not completely ready to embrace. If the youth of this society don’t care about respect and saving face now, what will we be in for twenty years from now, and what will their children be like?

I really hate to sound like a total prude, but frankly, it’s kind of starting to disgust me. I want to tell generation NOW that it DOES make a difference what people think of you. That people WILL form judgements based on things you post on facebook, that the pictures you publish matter. I want to tell them that they should be concerned with appearances and that desiring to be a good person, even on facebook, it a good thing.

If facebook is the new communication tool, and you just want to be young and wild and communicate in a raw and comedic sense, for heaven’s sake, don’t confirm anyone that you couldn’t tell in person the things you post on facebook.

It’s 4 in the morning, I’m done.

The Path

I stumble down the path that leads me to my dreams, it’s green and shaded and flowers grace it’s well worn trails.

From time to time I complain about the path not having the luxuries I’ve seen on others. I long for it to be more comfortable, easier. My feet are cool in the moist green, lush earth.

Soon I feel the heat of the sun begin to bear down on my head, the once shaded path is no longer guarded by looming trees. The earth slowly gives way to rock and dirt and the soft green becomes a shadow on the journey I took in my youth.

I begin to walk a fine line between faith and disillusionment. I am steady at first but soon feel the need to make a choice. The journey is hard and I grow tired, longing for the old path I took for granted.

Balancing the walk I lose my balance and can no longer walk the line, I must chose. I throw myself into belief and the unknown swallows me. I clammor and cling to the edge the hope and faith afford. My hands are tired, my nails are sore, my heart is hopeful, but that is all. I wait here each moment for Him to rescue me from myself. And each time He gently tells me to let go and feel the sure footing of the cool earth just beneath my feet.

I let go of all I was holding so afraid of the unknown, only to find He was there all along, making level paths for my feet.

Games with Butterflies

Children laughing, playing, riding bikes and finding likes.
No cares or concerns as they play games with butterflies.

Children travel the agless path of life and become we who think like metaphors.

Marriages are made and crumble, babies are born, people live and lie and love…
Death it stings the innocent and evil, people grow old and fade.

Cancer kills us, shot guns fire, cars dance and mangle on busy city streets taking the life that you loved.

Interviews made and jobs acquired, successful men and women wake early to change the world.
A woman and her children stand in a food stamp line, her children cry and scream, she can’t take this life anymore.

An artist paints to remember herself and forsakes the life that the others claimed.

No one remembers her name.

And children play games with butterflies.

Fly Free

We’ve all heard it before, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade!” Can’t you just hear some loud, older woman saying that?  I say CRAB FREAKING APPLES! Who made up such a ridiculous statement? Maybe it was Pollyanna or someone who likes to play pretend. I have found that the statement is pretty much impossible and if you try, you’ll eventually be drowned in your own sea of lemon flavored denial, that’s a river I don’t want to swim in.

Life, it is what it is. It’s a blessing, and it’s life. If you’ve had the opportunity to walk through most of it unscathed by personal pain here’s my advice, go out and buy a five point restraint. I quote the little Asian sidekick from the movie, Indiana Jones Temple of Doom, “Hang on Dr.Jones, we going for a ride!” It’s never going to be all fluff and stuff, and when things start to get good, pray harder. To put it simply, our household has been a mess . We have a teenager…and all that that implies.

My last post was about embracing the mustard seed. My teenager is going through LIFE right now, she’s riding it like a well versed white water rapids guide, except she is only prepared with a blow up raft from our garage and a make shift paddle. Many of her choices have been completely against our wishes, we’ve done the angry, sad, concerned parent thing. There’s been tears and laughter, mostly tears. I found a necklace that my Grandmother used to wear in her old jewelry box. It’s a small glass type bubble about the size of your pinky nail, and inside it is a tiny little mustard seed. I’ve been wearing it.

I’ve handled my daughters current situation in several different ways: grace, dignity, composure, hysterics, unbelief, hopelessness, anger, and prayer, to name a few. I have realized that living out your faith or embracing the mustard seed is much more difficult than I presumed. All my human mind and heart wants in order to conquer the situation is a little bit of tasty control, and HE pulled that right out of my hands. I’m ok with that…this morning. It’s been a long twenty-four hours. You would not have wanted to drive by and see me having a hysterical fit in the price chopper parking lot yesterday afternoon. I was like Lieutenant Dan in Forrest Gump, but I’m a suburban mom so the grocery store parking lot was a fitting place to make my peace with God. Instead of shrimping boat I used a grocery cart, what a great image. In reality it was just me and my mini-van but still, there was a battle fought. In that moment of undignified toddler style appeal for God to bring my daughter home I heard Him ask me something, Is she more important to your life than me?

I am growing. In this cold winter season my heart longs for His warmth and I am laying down my parenting battle tools at His feet. I am going to trust Him to take care of her. She’s growing her own wings and one day I want to watch her fly free. She needs our love and support because she’s in for a ride of her own. I’ll pray for her safety, for her future, and I’ll entrust her to Him.

Embracing the mustard seed

My life lately has been a series of opportunities to let God shine. I feel as if I am continually given the chance, like many, to embrace the mustard seed and live by faith. Not a faith that trusts God in the superficial, but in all of the things we as humans try to control in the day to day. Here in America, we don’t have to trust God for our next meal. I understand there are some that do but in general we live in a land of plenty. We don’t have to trust Him for clothing to wear and medicine for our sick children. Here, the idea of trusting God in the mundane, at least for me, is more of a challenge. I have lots of resources. I have friends, money, ideas, plans, abilities etc., that enable me to work things out. I use twitter AND facebook for goodness sake! Very seldom do I really, truly, wait on God and believe in my heart that He will take care of the intimate details of my life and longings of my heart.

This morning I not only embrace the mustard seed, I grind it up and sprinkle in my eyes. That sounds harsh, I know. But the faith I am attempting to summon is causing me to let all of my guards down. My eyes are swollen, I spent most of last night crying. We have some drama in our family right now. Nothing that thousands of other families haven’t gone through, but it’s still very, very tough. Last night I tried to control the situation, and when that didn’t work I cried. I thought of all the things I could do to help relieve the pain, none of them sounded very enticing. This morning I am persuaded that HE is faithful.

Every idea I can come up with to help solve this issue just feels wrong. The other day I wrote about peace that passes understanding, I am asking Him for that today, and tomorrow, and the next. I have to trust Him, it is the only way. I approach this day with a quiet confidence that,  “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” Philippians 1:6 I am also comforted by this,”Behold, I lay in Zion a stumbling stone and rock of offense, And whoever believes on Him will not be put to shame.” Romans 9:33.

Believing Christ, depending on Christ, embracing the mustard seed.

Honda Hospice

Drive it till it dies. What exactly does that mean? Does it mean that one day you will be driving down the road in a seemingly well running auto that is completely paid for, but old and not real pretty, when suddenly a dashboard light will come on that you’ve never seen before? Like a, pull over now or there is going to be trouble sort of light. Well, our Honda made a much less dramatic exit. It was like an old horse that rode very well a few years ago, had some miles left in him, did the job, but we never pushed him too hard. Although lately, it was like pulling Grandpa up off the couch and asking him for a piggy back ride around the house. Not only did he moan and groan the whole time, but very often shook and made scary noises on the trip.

It was time, and we knew it, because Christian Bros. automotive told us so. Very seldom do you encounter a mechanic that will give it to you honestly, so I never really expect the whole truth. What I mean is, there’s always an air filter, a knick knack or paddy whack that needs to be changed. But yesterday, when the mechanic was going over the list of things they found wrong with the car, his voice sort of sounded empty and hopeless, kind of how I felt about the situation. Radiator, hoses, fan, shocks, struts, tires, timing belt…not to mention the oxygen sensor and the almost entirely cracked windshield. He delivered the message with poise and grace but I could tell it wasn’t good. When he told us how much it would be just to fix the very impending issues I almost gagged. Yes, our commuter car, our Dave Ramsey ride, our  hooptie had had it, and unless we wanted to be driving down the road when the mystery light came on, we needed to move.

Nothing beats hanging with the kids in a car dealership playroom for 5 hours. Man, I’m here to tell ya, that place is like heaven and hell. Heaven for the kids, hell for the adults watching them. The television didn’t even work, I’m not sure if that made it better or worse but the manager didn’t even know how to work it, I think it was just for decoration. Thankfully, my kids connected with another couples children, two little girls ages five and seven. Their parents had dumped them in there and left to try and haggle the “no haggle” prices at Carmax, I don’t think they saw the sign that said they needed to be accompanied by adults. They were sweet kids though, I kind of felt like a pre-school teacher, I took them on a filed trip to the water area, we divy’d up a bag of m&m’s, I threatened time out for the ever increasing decibel levels. By the end of the night they were all sweaty and tired and looked as if they’d had the time of their lives. Funny how when you’re a kid, you go to places like that and meet other kids, you play and have a great time, and as you age you remember this place and this night as some nostalgic piece of childhood gold.  Seriously, they could have been at Chuck E. Cheese for all the laughter and fun they had. Next time you wanna take the kids somewhere fun and your on a budget, try your local car dealership, I’m serious, free water and $0.75 for a bag of m&m’s…they’re still sleeping this morning!  I wouldn’t be surprised if they asked if they could go back and play at Carmax sometime.

When their playmates had to leave, their parents looked none to happy, and just like that they were gone. It was fine though because we had to sign papers so we let the kids come outside and take a final look at the car with us. Back inside signing papers, Emerie and Owen sat on the floor of the cubicle with rolly pollys they had acquired from the mulch outside. The night ended on a high note with Owen wailing, tears running down his cheeks because Emerie’s rolly polly had died from so much manipulated rolling and unrolling, and she cunningly switched them so he had the dead one. Look sister, he’s no fool. He knew the markings, he caught on very quickly that this bug not only acted different, it looked different as well. She’s a beast.

Long story short, Daddy let me drive the new/used Ford Fusion home, just David Crowder & I. I am not living in fear of the near death dashboard light any more.