Happy New Year

Well, the party was fun! We only had 63 instead of 66. Skye was sick and Eric and Pat stayed home with her. So, pretty much everyone we expected to come came. We had hoped the Boykins would be able to come but no such luck. Everyone missed them.

We had plenty of food. A party without food is unacceptable. We never ran out of anything. Afterward, Terri and I agreed that we must be getting better at party planning. We were all thankful for the beautiful weather. Evan built a wonderful bonfire. Thank you Evan and David. The kids played outside and got along well. The adults mingled and talked and ate and drank.

A lot of people dressed up from their favorite time period. I was a hippie, Kim was a fifties housewife, Terri was '80's, Boo was 70's. But the winners were Jon Carter, who was a 70's Bible salesman, and Melissa Epperson who was totally 80's. Here's a picture. I hate the quality of these pictures but Kim forgot her digital camera and I had no film for my camera. So once again I was stuck using my phone. I really wish the picture was better.


Jon's wife Betty was a very close second to Missy. Betty had on a red wig and black and leopard print dress from the 60's. I can't tell everyone's costume but believe me, they were all good.



Speaking of Betty's wig. Here's Laura wearing it. (Once again, bad picture quality. Sorry.) Laura was crackin me up. You should have seen Steve in it! He was hysterical.

We listened to music too. Dean Martin, Stevie Nicks, The Black Crowes, The Eagles, The Beatles, a 70's compilation and the Pretty in Pink soundtrack. We tried to cover as many eras as possible. Oh and don't forget the BeeGee's, but that was after most people had already left.

There was lots of dancing and silliness. My new friends Connie and Boo got to meet my best friend Amber. And come to find out they knew a lot of the same people. Cool. There were more people that I would have liked to invite but my house is just not big enough.

I hope all who came had fun. I know I sure did.

This is Molly. She is my slightly retarded, hippo dog. Amber called her a slug. She is sooo loving though. She loves to be petted and talked to. She smiles too. She also lays around the yard looking just like Snoopy: on her back, head bent back, ears flopped out. Funny, goofy dog! 

It's Out Of Control

Okay. Here's the deal. Last year Kim and I threw a New Year's Eve Party. We invited ten families. Three people showed up. Not three families - three people! Needless to say, we were sorely disappointed.

So this year, we invited twenty families and sent out the invitations a week early to increase our chances. Long story made short, we have twenty-two families coming. Yes, you read correctly. We have more people coming than we invited. How? Word of mouth. Head count? 37 adults and 29 children. Thank goodness I have a 5,000 square foot home. Oh, wait! I don't!!!

Truly, I am not upset. A little freaked out maybe. A little afraid that people aren't going to enjoy themselves. But ya know? Now that I think about it... it's wonderful. We have had people call to say, "I knew you wouldn't mind, so I invited the ---." And other people call and ask if they could come. Wow! I love that. I love that people feel comfortable enough to do that. Because I really don't mind.

I love when people come over. My house is not perfect or even clean, but it is a home. "It looks lived in.", my best friend Amber says. Not too many years ago that would have made me feel insecure and inadequate. I took comments like that as a veiled insult. Today, it feels like what it is - a testament to the grace of God. I used to think that my house, my kids, my abilities - in other words, the things I did- were what brought glory to God. Now I realize that it's the Holy Spirit in me that brings glory to God. God doesn't care about my couch or my kitchen sink. He wants my heart. My motivations. It's hard to explain.

So now I say... Bring it on!!! Come on over. Roast marshmallows over the bonfire, listen to the music, eat lots of food, talk and laugh. I am priviledged that you can do all those things at my home. All 66 of you.

Random Thoughts Concerning Food

Today, I have just picked a topic out of the air. Now I will note all of my brilliant thoughts on the subject. Hang on tight, this could get messy.

1. Starbucks' Caramel Macchiato (can't spell it correctly) is my favorite coffee-type drink of all time.

2. Homemade tacos are so much better than anything you can buy. Why bother with Taco Bell?

3. Frozen green beans are ALWAYS nasty. No matter how you cook them.

4. Chris has eaten fish eyeballs in the jungles of Peru, but he will not eat mushrooms. Under any circumstances.

5. Terri's spagetti sauce and homemade icing are to die for. Not together of course. That would be nasty.

6. I don't understand people who have the desire to cook something that takes longer than thirty minutes to prepare. After 30 minutes, it's just not worth the effort.

7. I also don't understand people who pay $100 for a meal. It's just going to come out the other in end in a few hours.

8. It seems wrong somehow to cook Hamburger Helper in a $200 Calphalon pan.

9. If there is ever a shortage of concrete, we could just use day old grits. They harden to about the same degree.

10. French food. One question... Why? bleck!

11. As anyone who knows me personally can attest, I cannot eat meat off the bone. It makes me gag. I think it stems from a deeply disturbing event from my childhood. My Great Grandfather took me into the yard with him when he chopped a chicken's head off. It ran around for several minutes with blood spurting out of it's neck. I've never eaten chicken on the bone since.

12. As a senior in high school, I was required to read The Jungle by Upton Sinclair. I've not eaten sausage since.

13. I have a really bad habit of buying bananas and forgetting about them. They stay on top of the refrigerator until they're black and shriveled. Kim says that I mummify them. My Dad-in-law came over one day and asked "How long until you think they're finally ripe?" HaHa Very funny.

14. I go a little crazy when planning the food for a party. I end up with way too much. A web site that I read said that for a small gathering, you should serve 2 salty and 2 sweet. Huh? What is that? In my opinion, 4 or maybe even 5 of each. Is that overboard you think?

So there. Completely unimportant and unrelated information. This is probably the most useless post I've ever written. (G, no comments. I can hear them swirlin' around.)

A Word About Pastor G

I have a confession to make. Steve Morgan (aka Pastor G) makes me laugh so hard. I know he's reading this but I have to admit it. He is one of the funniest people I know. Sometimes he's mean and cruel. Often he has a weird smell about him... okay not really, I made the smell thing up. But he can be mean only in a really funny way.

He has done studies on delegation and still has no earthly idea what it means. He procrastinates, which drives the people around him nuts. He is slightly compulsive and a little high-strung. But overall, he's a trip. He preaches some really great sermons. Even Chris can stay awake for them. ;o) He does have his "preacher voice" though. I think he thinks it makes him sound smarter.

He married way out of his league, to Laura. And strangely, she thinks he's all that and a bag of chips. Oh well, to each his own.

But seriously, I remember when he never even came to church and now he's our assistant (or is it associate?) pastor. Amazing what the love of Christ can do. He's really smart. A great conversationalist. And a good friend. Steve, I'll say it once and never again, I'm glad you're on staff.

And if you'd ever write your first post, I'll honor you with a link on my page.

Which reminds me.... Leslie, Laura, Amber, Kim and Terri - you have one week to post or I remove your link. Ahhhh, I love power!

Clarity

Have you ever had to go somewhere, into a situation, that made you so uncomfortable that you went a little crazy? Some of you really confident people, like my husband, will have no idea what I'm talking about. Read on and learn.

Sometime in the recent past (that's all the info you need), I was required to go into just such a situation. In retrospect, it wasn't nearly as bad as I had imagined it would be. I have a very healthy imagination. But, anyway, like I was saying, I was required to go be with people that make me really uncomfortable. They say they like me but when I'm with them, they ignore me completely. And if they're not ignoring me, they're making comments that... well, we won't go there. Suffice it to say, whenever I'm around them I feel like a dorky idiot that has nothing to say that's worth listening to. I don't like feeling that way. Which is why I avoid these people.

So what have we learned so far? I'm insecure, cowardly and avoid confrontation like the plague.

The day of this intended meeting I was a basketcase. I will try to explain it more coherently. When I am with my friends, I am completely myself. I laugh, tell jokes, interact, listen fairly well, and hopefully make people comfortable. I don't mind talking to strangers. My Mother used to say I could talk to a stump if I could get it to stand still. I am usually relaxed. But put me in this particular situation and I lose myself completely. I know that I am expected to be a certain person but I'm not that person anymore. I feel like a square peg being forced into a round hole. And because I want to please people, I try really hard to be who they want me to be. So, in short, my natural instinct tells me to change who I am to please someone else. But the strong inner self tells me to forget them and their opinions and just be me.

Problem one, my inner self is a very relational person. I can't interact with people who ignore me. Problem two, I want all people to like me. I want to change myself into someone they'll like. Problem three, it can't be done. I spent the day feeling like a prisoner of war in my own body. I was "conflicted". I was making myself crazy trying to figure out how to be me and not care what others think.

My sweet, beautiful husband put it all in perspective for me. He said "Just remember, God says you're beautiful and so do I. And that's all that really counts."

That completely changed the whole situation. I realized that I was so wrapped up in me that I had forgotten Christ. I had lost all spiritual perspective. It was all about me. It was all about how they make me feel and how should I respond and how I didn't want to be hurt. I had to ask myself the big, real questions. Who am I? The daughter of the Most High. What am I? completely loved, completely forgiven and completely righteous. What else matters? Nothing.

That is where my confidence lies. That is where my sense of self comes from. I am beautiful because God says I am. No one elses opinion of me has any value. And armed with that reality, I experienced a moment of clarity. I walked into the situation with love and peace. I had fun. I saw them with the eyes of Christ. I felt bad for them when I saw their striving for acceptance based on possesions. I spoke with confidence and hopefully, without defensiveness.

When I left, my head didn't hurt. I never felt like crying. And I was humbled by how completely and utterly I had forgotten the Cross. One of my favorite verses of Scripture is in 2 Timothy 2:13. It says " If we are faithless, he will remain faithful, for he cannot disown himself." He was faithful to me when I had forgotten him. He loves me with a love I cannot even imagine. He doesn't grow disgusted with my strivings. He meets me in that place and whispers my name. And when I finally hear him, my spirit grows quiet and relaxed in the presence of such love. Oh for more moments of clarity like that.

Too Much Food!

Aahhh!!!! I had lost five pounds and I think I gained every pound back today. Ugh. I feel sick. I did great at breakfast. Only a very small amount and healthy stuff at that. But lunch... it was an ugly sight. They had corn casserole, green bean casserole, hashbrown casserole, dressing, brownies, yams... I ate way too much. I tore into it like a monkey on a cupcake. Now I have to repent and walk two miles tomorrow. Why do I do that? I mean, I feel gross and disgusting. I mean, do I even have self-control?

Merry Christmas

MERRY CHRISTMAS !!!!

Music

What is it about music that is so involving? Music has the ability to reach the very deepest parts of who I am. If the music is sad, I 'm depressed for days. If it is happy, I smile for days. If it is uplifting, I worship for days. Music can make me cry and laugh and feel.

I hate to cry. I fight it as hard as I can. Not knowingly, but somewhere inside me, I fight it. Sort of like throwing up. I try to think about anything else. I'll watch a movie, read a book, play on the computer, etc. Since I know this about myself, I am very careful. I make myself feel my deepest feelings. I make myself dwell on them and think them through. And if I need to cry, I put on sad music. Works everytime. Why?

And there are certain songs that make me feel like a teenager again. "Walkin' On Sunshine" is one of them. There's a Stevie Nicks song that does it too. What's the name..... I can't remember. "Maybe I'm just thinkin that the rooms are all on fire......" that one. I hear them and I want to dance and sing at the top of my lungs. Why?

But my favorite is our music in church. When I hear Stokes, Connie and Adam sing and play - it does something to me. I literally feel my spirit lifted up. It's like my insides are struggling to get out and fly away to heaven. In those moments, I feel God. I'm not saying that a relationship with God is all about feeling, cause it's not. I know that he is with me all the time, but when I am worshiping, my spirit jumps and sings to him. I feel connected to him. He is there. I remember a verse that says, "He inhabits the praises of his people." (found it... Ps. 22:3 KJV) He is the only thing worthy of praise. He is our praise. Okay, bear with me a second.

I think that God created music to connect directly to our spirits. It was created as a means to worship him. And we were created to glorify God. So in those moments, I am doing and being exactly who I was created to be. And the only good I have in me is because of Him. Because of my union with Christ. So, when I hear Stokes, Connie and Adam worshiping God, my spirit and the Holy Spirit living within me have intimate communion as together we worship the Father. And in those moments, I have a glimpse... a taste of heaven. A brief flash of God's beauty. No wonder my soul wells up within me.

Oh, I love him. He is so cool and so much deeper than I could ever imagine. And even if I could imagine it, no words would ever adequately express it. That's what the spirit is for, to worship without words. To be still and know he is God.

I wonder if Connie, Stokes, Adam, Amber and Jawan and the rest even know how their gifts affect the people around them. God has truly priviledged them with the ability to lead others to himself. Hmmm.... Neat.... Amazing..... Inadequate words. I know.

Come See The Violence Inherent In The System

Yesterday, the kids and I went to Kim's for the day. Kim and I were inside, looking at the grocery store sale papers. The kids were outside, playing football, basketball, sword fighting, and playing Star Wars. It was a good and perfect day.

And then the tranquility was shattered.

Ellas came running in screaming "Gracie knocked Ty's teeth out! He's bleeding!"

My hope was a busted lip. I didn't panic cause we have blood fairly frequently at our home, between Ellas' clumsiness and Ty's nosebleeds. I dropped my sale paper and ran for the yard. And there was Ty, bleeding profusely from the mouth and holding part of a tooth. "Please let it be a baby tooth!" I prayed. Nope.

Gracie had smacked Ty in the mouth with a plastic pirate sword and broke his two bottom, permanent teeth in half, horizontally. Plus, she busted his lip pretty bad. I loaded Ty up and took off for Dr. Koplon's. Once there, Ty had to undergo root canals on both his broken teeth. He has temporary fillings in right now. But we go back Monday for something more permanent.

Gracie is deeply sorrowful and Ty is deeply sore. Pray for both of them. Poor kids.

My sweet little boy. I went in to wake him from his nap and found him like this. Such a sweet pose.  

Who Wants A King?

These are several thoughts that I know are connected. I'm still trying to figure out how. So this is more me puzzling things out. Not making a statement of sure belief.

What is a king? What does he do? What is his purpose? Why did the Israelites beg for one?

A king is a 'sovereign', one who rules over a people. A king, a good king, makes laws, resolves conflicts, extends justice, protects and defends his people, provides for his people, leads his people into battle, and demands respect and submission.

When he leaves the castle, runners go before him calling out, "Here comes the King. Bow before the King." Why? So that people can come stare? No. So that no one will be caught unaware. For to ignore the King would be a punishable offence. And it was a priviledge to serve him and give him honor.

Why do people want a king? I guess for one, it feels safe. The other nations judge you by how strong your leader is. Plus, we tend to be headless chickens. We need someone to unite us and give us purpose. We all have different ideas and need a king to make the big decisions. We want someone to be in charge of us. *side note- just like our kids want to know boundaries, so do we.*

We don't elect kings either. It is a monarchy - not a democracy. Some people may not like him or respect him or even acknowledge him as king - but that doesn't change the fact that he is the king. The king rules over all his people, even the ones who disregard him. And those same people benefit from his wisdom. If he makes a treaty with a neighboring country, all of his people reap the positive results. Loyal or disloyal.

So why does scripture call the baby Jesus the king? Did the shepherds and wise men come to a baby shower? Did they come just to see an exceptional infant? The answer is a resounding NO!

Christ was born as King. He was in the beginning. By his very essence were all things created. They were created by him and for him. He was king over all creation from the beginning of time. And when he came, he came on a royal mission. It was not to teach tolerance or moral law. He came to fulfill the very law that he created. To satisfy in himself the justice that he required.

Did he ask permission? Does a king ever need the permission of his people to act? To say that he needs our permission is to say that he is not sovereign. Who wants a weak king? Not me.

How does this change my view of Christmas? Or, better yet, does it change my views at all?

Well, for Chris and I, it does change things a bit. He's not just a baby with a vision. Or a nebulous heavenly party. Gifts take on a new meaning. They aren't things we do for each other to make us happy. They are the means that our King uses to meet our needs. He will provide for his people. Receiving a gift is a worshipful experience. Giving a gift is to be used as a vessel to meet someone else's need.

To see Christ as King is different from his being Messiah or provider or Savior. As King, he embodies all of those attributes and more. If I see him as King, then I am awed and ready to worship when I revel in his love for me. It is so much bigger than I'd ever thought before.

Well, I could go on and on. But I won't. Today anyway. I have lots of other disconnected pieces to pull in before I feel like this is a cohesive thought. I hope you aren't too confused. And I hope that it caused something to jump in your spirit as you read. That's what happened to me when Chris first told me. Think about it.

Gracie

Some of you know my daughter Gracie. She is 5 years old, has blonde curly hair and big blue eyes. She is the prettiest child I've ever seen. She has little rosebud lips and a sprinkle of freckles across her nose. She was born pretty. She really was.

She started talking very early. By the time she was 14 months she could communicate really well. And that's when the trouble started. At first, it was a little squirmish here and there but before long, it became an all out assault. Then a war. She was the most strong-willed child I have ever seen. Once she made up her mind about something and sunk her teeth in it she was like a badger. (To get a badger to turn loose once it gets a hold on something you have to break it's jaw.) And everything was a fight. Breakfast, sippy cups, naps, potty training,books- you name it.

But the worst of it was bedtime. She would not just stay in the bed. Ask my Dad, he lived here for some of it. For two years straight, she got three spankings a night to get her to give up and stay in bed. I would cry, she would cry, Maggie would cry. We had a mantra: Me- "Gracie, what are you doing?" Gracie- " Fighting you." Me- "Who's going to win?" Gracie- "You are." Me- "And what's going to happen to you?" Gracie- "I'm gonna get a spankin." Me- "Then quit fighting me. I don't want to give you a swat." Three times every night, for three years. She fought me. Made Maggie and Ty miserable. Pestered the snot out of Brody. And I would pray every night and day that God would help me be kind and calm and that Gracie would learn that I was the boss and that Mommy always wins.

It was a long 3 years. One day, about nine months ago, she was throwing a fit and we replayed the mantra listed above. And she took a deep breath, looked at me and said "OK." And that was the end. Later she said, "Mommy, I gave up." It finally clicked that I was in charge. And she has been a different child since.

The only problem is that people got used to her being "the hard one." She had burned her bridges, so to speak. Her brother and sister avoided her. No one ever invited her to spend the night. She didn't get the affection she longed for. In a way, she had done it to herself. But she was 3. And now, she is acutely aware of every time someone says go away or you're so annoying. She came to me the other day in tears and said, "Mommy, I don't mean to annoy people." My heart broke for her.

She is my special girl. We have a bond that goes deep. You see, Gracie is me. I was just like her at that age. And I remember being told those same things or "Please, can't you just be quiet for five minutes?" or being ignored because I talked so much.

I talked to Bren about this problem tonight. And if you'll look at his blog, you'll see that he took extra time with her tonight. The other kids wouldn't let her play so Bren went and got her and let her pick out car pictures for his blog. He talked to her and gave her advice. They colored pictures. She talked about him all the way home. She told her Daddy about him. She prayed for him. You see, he showed love to her. He saw her, not as the bratty 3 year old she used to be, but as the bright 5 year old she has become.

Sometimes, I think we let people get stuck in our minds as being who they were ten years ago or two years ago. We don't let them grow and change. We think we know them but really we know who they used to be. Thank goodness I'm not who I was ten years ago. Are you?

It's an amazing thing to take a fresh look at someone you take for granted. You never know who you'll discover.

NARNIA !!!!!

Chris and I took all the kids to see The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe today. Words cannot express how much I loved this movie. The best way I can describe it is to say : It is as powerful as The Lord of The Rings and as moving as The Passion Of The Christ to me. I cried and laughed and cheered. The symbolism moved me. To know that Christ sees me the way Aslan saw Edmund and to see the power and love ..... breathtaking.

It was getting to experience a story that I've known most of my life. My Mom read some of the Chronicles of Narnia to Kim and I when we were little. Kim and I were in different bedrooms. So, Mother would sit in the hallway between our rooms and read it out loud. I remember being able to see it all happening in my mind. And the movie absolutely did the book justice.

I'm sure that they could have done a few things here and there differently. But overall it was perfect. Some may disagree, which is fine. But to me, it was magnificent!

Merry "Christmas"?

There is a big controversy brewing about Christmas. I saw a self-described atheist on the news last week talking about how "the pagans are taking back their holiday and if the Christians don't like it, they need to get over it!" Meaning that Christmas will now be only about Santa and giving and good feelings. No Jesus, no wise men, nothing.

So basically, we offend people with our "religious" talk and we should be quiet. Apparently, they can tolerate many things except our freedom of speech and religion. So what do we do? Try not to offend anyone? Try to be extra offensive?

In cases like these, I find it hard to hear God's voice. I want to tell these people to SHUT UP! That we, as believers, have had enough of their bullying and they need to get ready for a fight. But on the other hand, "We wrestle not against flesh and blood..." I feel a measure of compassion for the ones who cringe at the name of Christ.

All I know to do, is worship Christ as best I can and love as He has loved me. What will that look like? I'm not sure, but I am sure that He'll show me one situation at a time. My focus should never be the atheists and bullies of the world. It should always be on Christ, the one who seeks out the atheists and pagans for his own.

Sweet Memories

Today has been anticlimactic. But not in a bad way. We have spent weeks getting ready for the party last night. It went really well. Lots of people came and ate and laughed and talked. Chris shared the Gospel. I'm not sure how it was received, but that's not important. God will draw them.

So, today I'm running the dishwasher, paying bills and sitting around in my pj's. The kids wanted to watch old home videos. So, we watched the video of Brody's birth and the benefit concert we had after Dad's wreck. We watched old birthday parties and the family reunion of Bill's family. I love video cameras. It makes the past seem so close.

I saw my Mom hold Brody for the first time. And, to my knowledge, that's the only picture I have of her holding him. It was sweet and excrutiating at the same time. I cried pretty hard. I hadn't seen that one before. Dad was the one in the delivery room filming. Chris got to deliver Brody and we got the sweet prayer that Dr. Mac prayed afterward. It was wonderful to see all that again.

And almost as bittersweet was the benefit. I got to hear my friends Amber and Jawan sing again. It was sorta sad to me. I mean, these are the friends that I used to hear sing almost every week. Once, I came home and Amber was in my house practicing for her recital because Frank was asleep at home. It was pretty cool. Amber was always singing or humming. And my joke with Jawan is that her voice is what my voice sounds like in my head. For some reason when it leaves my mouth, it loses something. I miss my friends. They live in different states now. But I still love them and they love me. I hope.

So, today was a lazy day. Watching videos and eating leftovers from the party. Seeing how little my kids were when Brody was born. Lovely day.

Quick Thought About Theraflu

The new Theraflu commercials irritate me. In one, a guy (who looks like a troll) gets on a bus. And where does he sit? Next to the youngest person on the bus! HE HAS THE FLU! Sure Theraflu might get rid of your symptoms (and you no longer looklike a troll) but YOU STILL HAVE THE FLU!

In the other commercial, the guy drinks his medicine and then leaves his infected coffee cup right next to the coffee pot! HEELLLOOOO?!?!?! You have the flu, go home and quit infecting everyone around you!

Good grief.

Girl Trip

WARNING* Amber and Angela, read at your own risk.

Well, I'm back from my trip. (Obviously) And boy was it fun! Kim, Terri and I went down to Destin on Wednesday morning. We had to stop a few times for Terri the Tiny Tank Carden but we still made it in 5 hours. It was sunny and warm and beautiful the whole time we were there.

A friend of Chris' from work let us stay in her condo for practically nothing. It was really nice. Two bedroom, two bath, full kitchen, DVD player and cable. We had all the plans of going out to eat, staying out late, etc. But I must admit - we are old. We went out to eat at a place we thought would be great. Ended up - not so much. I ordered a frozen Irish coffee which tasted like hair spray with whipped cream on top. By the second sip, my tongue was numb. Needless to say, that drink was not finished. Yuck! How can people like whiskey? And the food was decent, but I don't pay that much money for "decent". My french onion soup had funny looking cheese. It was honeycombed - very uncool.

After eating, we went to Krispie Kreme and succeeded in completely confusing the foreign speaking cashier. We were retarded. If we wanted to, Kim and I could be really effective short-change artists. While we were there, we were ogled by an unwashed, smelly man. Lovely.

And then, we really partied. We went to Target and bought nail polish and coffee. WHOO! We are wild. We confused the Starbucks cashier too.

The next day we slept late and shopped at the outlet mall. Man, we got some really good deals. I'm serious. Nice backpacks for $1, sweaters for $3, cd's for $7. Lots o' stuff! I love getting good deals. Gap pricing was disappointing though. The book store was sooo great. Lots of stuff for school.

Terri and I walked down to the beach. It was weird standing there in sweatshirts and still being cold. We had climbed a wooden fence to save ourselves a really long walk to the access. Which was fine. But on the way back, Oh my Goodness, I climbed it just fine. But Terri's shirt hung on something and she started falling. It was like time stood still. I could hear her nails clawing the wood trying to stop herself. But it was to no avail. She fell flat on her butt. I was standing there, honestly thinking that she wasn't going to actually hit the ground. Three times, it looked like she was about to right herself. I was such a bad friend. I could not quit laughing. Terri was laughing too. I think that's why she kept losing her balance.

We came back and watched The Village by M. Night Shamaylan. Love that movie! If you haven't seen it, you should. No cursing. No ugly scenes. It's suspenseful and .... just cool! Anyway, we watched movies and laughed and read books and laughed and discussed books and laughed and ate and laughed. You get the idea.

You know, it doesn't really matter what we do, we always have fun. It was restful and encouraging. And during that brief time, it sort of hit me. There are a lot of women who don't have the friendships that I do. Many don't see the need for it. Many don't think they have the time for it. Others are just plain scared of it.

But having my "Sister Chics" is priceless to me. They love me no matter what and I them. Just tonight they came up and helped me clean to get ready for a party. They love my kids and participate in my life. They e-mail me or IM me and offer bits of their heart that soothe my spirit. They call just to complain. They listen when I call to complain and somehow we always end up remembering God's providence. And then we laugh.

I wish all of you reading this could come on our next girl trip. You'd have a great time, I know it.

Nice or Love

Chris and I were having a conversation this morning about niceness. I always thought that to show love to someone meant being nice to them. That if I wanted to show the love of Christ that it meant to make that person feel good. It's sounds silly when I put it that way, but in the moment, that's what feels right.

But as I learn about the love of God, I am confronted with the fact that He is not "nice". His love is fierce and jealous. His love drags me to Himself, sometimes kicking and screaming. His love is confrontational and "in your face". He sent His only Son to His death, out of His love for me. Does that sound nice?

So why do I think that I always need to be nice and not hurt anyone's feelings? I'm sure I could find something or someone to blame it on, but the truth of the matter is, if comfort is my god, then I impose that internal law on others. If I see my sister in Christ headed down a path of sin and pain, should I be nice and support her in that choice? Or should I tell her that she is messing up? Which is love : to cheer someone on as they walk out in front of a bus? Or to tackle them and drag them out of harm's way? If it was me walking out into the road, I would want someone to tackle me. Sure I might get bruised and scraped, but I'd be alive. And if that person I love rejects me because of it, do I quit loving them? Does God quit loving me? God's grace gives me the ability to put the pain in perspective.

The difficulty comes in when I consider my own sin. Who am I to point out someone else's sin? Answer: a fellow sinner saved by God's grace. In that place, I come in love not condemnation. I come wanting to listen and enter into that person's life. If that person is just annoying and I want them to stop it, I don't want to enter into their life. And that shows me that I don't love them, I love me. But when I long to share their pain and push them back into the arms of God, that is love. "Nice" doesn't even figure into the equation.

Thoughts of My Home

Today, the kids and I got the house cleaned up and started decorating for Christmas. We put up the tree and strung the lights. We set out other small decorations. And for the first time in recent history, I was able to set up my Christmas village. My cousin Dustin had given me several new 'residences' a few years ago. Today was the first time they were taken out of the box. I have a small buffet type piece of furniture in my living room now. And Ty, Grace, and Brody helped me set them all up. They put out the buildings and then played with all the small things. They love the benches, street signs, people and skating rink. I got some really cute video.

I was able to purge my laundry room. Things there are now organized and any old, unuseful stuff is g-o-n-e. Woo-hoo! It looks really great to me. Now, I want to do the same thing to my pantry. But one thing at a time.

Right now, the kids are each playing quietly. Ty and Grace are playing with the mini-horse stable that Maggie got for Christmas last year. Brody's playing with his train set. Maggie is with Poppy.

Chris is at work. I'm so ready for him to come home I feel like crying. He's been gone for 2 1/2 days. His presence completely changes the dynamics in our home. I feel more peaceful for one thing. The kids love talking to him and asking him questions. When he's gone, he's never far from our thoughts and conversation.

I've never heard anyone talk about the mystery of 'one flesh' that Scripture talks about. But I think about it a lot. It's a beautiful thing the way Chris and I complete each other. It's a constant give and take. I remember when we first got married, I never wanted to be away from him. A friend told me to 'just wait until you've been married a few years'. That bothered me. Should a husband and wife ever want to be apart? Before, it was sort of an insecure thing. Now, it's just that we work so well together. It's a bone deep completion. Is that corny? It's true. We just like being together. He cracks me up. He's funny and smart and pretty. And he thinks that I'm funny and smart and beautiful. I miss him when he's gone. And we've been married almost 11 1/2 years. Seems like 2 or 3, except for the fact that we have 4 kids. We've been through so much together, I'm glad God gave me Chris. God always gives us what we need. And He knew before I did that I needed someone strong-willed and tenderhearted.

He'll be home in hopefully about 4 hours. Lord, protect my husband. Bring him safely home to me.

I am thankful. Not just because everything is going really well right now, (because they're not) but because God has blessed me. His blessings may not always be in the form I would choose, but that doesn't mean they're not blessings. And right now, in this moment, I am thankful.

This is Ty and Ellas shopping the day after Thanksgiving. They were plotting how to spend their $6.00. As you can tell, they are best friends. I think they're precious. But if they ask, tell them I said "Cool" not "precious". 

Jeremiah 17:9

I am learning that everything is not always as it seems.

For instance, my heart doctor informed me that sometimes people mistake dehydration for hunger. He said that many people walk around in a state of unrecognized thirst, and once you get rehydrated, you feel thirsty. Experts say that many times, depression is a sign of repressed anger. So anger makes you feel sad. A Bible study I'm in says that our dissatisfaction with ourselves and our circumstances is really displaced or unrecognized hunger for God.

I discovered a new one last Sunday. Our music during worship is awesome. I mean really, really amazing. And last Sunday, Stokes, our music leader, sang a duet with a friend of his. I sat there listening and worshipping and before I knew it, I wanted to hug Stokes and Adam and thank them. But very quickly, I realized that I had gone from worshipping God to praising the servant. Why is that? What I was really feeling was thankfulness and praise towards God but my response was all wrong. I wanted to give the glory to Stokes. And Stokes didn't want it. He was too busy praising God.

Why do we do that? I don't know. But it shows me that I don't know myself as well as I like to think. Only God truly knows my heart. Only God can change it. Only God can expose my heart to me. And when He does, I learn something new about myself.

Bull Or Buffalo?

Today, being Sunday, was a day of rest. Maggie was playing at a friend's house. Chris and Brody were asleep. I walked into the living room where Gracie and Ty were watching a rodeo, actually bull riding, on the television.

Wanting to make conversation, I asked, "What are ya'll watching?"

To which Gracie replied, "We're watching the Buffalo Races."

You may not think that's cute, but it cracked me up!

Death

As I write this, my heart aches for so many people. My friend Toni has just lost her Mother. The next day, Toni lost her daughter-in-law, my friend, Jessica. Jessica died of cancer, leaving behind two daughters. As I was getting ready to go to her funeral, I found out that my dear friend, Laura Kessler's little brother was in a car accident. Last account I had, he was taken off life support. They don't expect him to make it. He is 16. I used to babysit him. While I was at the funeral, I stood next to my friend and mentor, Maja. Maja's daughter, Rachael, died a few years ago. I used to babysit her too. I think of Rachael all the time. I keep a picture of her on my refrigerator.

Why does God create us with the capacity for profound love? Why does he connect us to other people? Make us need other people? Death is inevitable, I know, but it's also very, very personal.

Nothing else has ever caused me to feel as though I am literally coming apart at the seams. When my best friend, Lori, died and also when my Mom died, it actually felt like my heart was being squeezed in two. How is it that His love for me includes loss? Profound loss. Heart-wrenching loss.

I don't know. I'm not Him. But I do know that God knows how we feel. It broke His heart when His Son died. It tore Him apart, literally. The Father turned His back on the Son. Why? Because He loved me. And by doing that He conquered death. Death has no more power over us.

And it's weird, because I hate and fear the death of loved ones. But I long for death every day. I want to be with Him in Heaven. I'm not suicidal; but I recognize that death is a release from this pain and longing. I know that if I died, God would take care of my family. I trust Him with my own death, but it's much harder to trust Him with death of others.

My Mom and friends are much better off. But I miss them. And Laura will miss Clete. Toni will miss her mother. Kayla will miss Jessica. There are no quick answers. No trite phrases that will ease the pain. And to try to think of one is closing my heart off so that I won't feel their pain. Life is messy. And God calls us to cry with each other and hurt with each other and laugh with each other. And pray for each other. The whole time remembering that He is the one who has given us the ability to do all those things. Our earthly relationships are but a reflection of the intimate connection we have with God. And when we need comfort or faith or peace - He gives us Himself. And that really is enough.

I hope that doesn't sound flippant. I don't mean for it to. But I choose to believe that. That choosing is the very definition of faith. And He'll give me faith when I have none.

The times when I know that I was experiencing God are the times I screamed out in pain, wanting to know WHY? Betty Carter says in her book that why is one of the most devout questions that we could ask because it shows a belief that there is a God who is in charge. And whenever I ask a question of Him... He will answer. He promised that He would. And He's big enough to take my anger or pain or fear. He's bigger than my anger and pain and fear. He is God and He is good. Plus, as I've said over and over again (because it amazes me) He loves me. I know that He does.

These are pictures from Ty's Military Birthday Party. They're a little hard to see. Sorry. The top one is my Dad wearing Brody's helmet. The middle one was taken while they were on their "mission" in the woods. The bottom one is them learning how to salute properly. Many thanks to Brendan for being our C.O./Drill Instructor. And also to Scott who taught me the lingo and consequently kept me from sounding more like a doofus than usual.  

Picture Pages

Do any of you remember that show, Picture Pages? I only remember bits and pieces. But today was picture day for me. I finally went to Sam's and came home with 5 envelopes of pictures.

So today, on my blog, is Picture Page Day. I hope you like them.

This is Maggie and Ty with their instructor, Mr.Crawford. They love him. He's very patient and doesn't let them get away with being lazy. 

Maggie and Ty, The Equestrians. Maggie's riding a pony named Trigger. Ty's riding Spirit. They are learning to "boss" the most stubborn horses. This means controlling the movement and speed. 

Here are Gracie and Brody watching Maggie and Ty at horse lessons. They love watching the horses, dogs, and goats.  

Brody with his first and only true buddy. Caleb moved away but Brody still remembers him. These two boys love to play. Sometimes in the toilet, sometimes in the dog food, but always together. 

My Father, The Social Butterfly

My Dad is a social butterfly. I've never seen anything like it. He loves people. He loves talking to them, watching them, and helping them. His favorite song is "People Need The Lord". And he truly believes that every person has more to them than meets the eye. I'll give you case in point.

I've already told you about our activities of last Thursday. When I parked his truck in the lot on 3rd Avenue, the only person either of us knew was each other. That was soon to change. I'll say "we" met people, but that's not really the case. "He" met people and introduced me to them.

We walked the few blocks to the club, where we met the hostess, I can't remember her name. But she's only been at that job for a short time and likes it. We then met Loren, our waitress. She just graduated from college with a degree in Music. She broke up with her long time boyfriend a couple of months ago and is "okay with it", she has a beautiful singing voice, and her family is from Ohio. She had an audition yesterday that she was very hopeful about. The BBQ ribs are her favorite dish.

Next, I was introduced to Calvin. Calvin is the "bathroom guy" at the club. You know... he passes out cologne and sells cigars... that kind of thing. Calvin is divorced from his first wife and used to live in Bessemer, Alabama. Calvin has been to (or lived in) Gate City, Downtown Birmingham, Eastwood and many other localles that are familiar to me. He has worked in clubs in Memphis?, Birmingham, and Atlanta. He loves cigars.

After that we left the club and walked around. We met a man named Pops. He was the bouncer at Coyote Ugly. He was standing out on the sidewalk by himself. He loves his job, used to do drugs, has been clean for a long time, and is not married. Other things were discussed but I was window shopping at the time. *He had my favorite quote of the night: I used to do acid. Now I do antacid.*

So at the end of a relatively short period of time, friends were made. People smiled and I think a couple even heard the name of Christ(and not as a curse word). We walked all the way to the end of the block, visiting and having a great time. When it was time to go, this is how it went:

"Mike, take it easy. Good luck tomorrow." (from Pops)
"Mike, take care of yourself. I hope everything goes alright." (from Calvin)
"Mike, I'll be thinkin of you. Come back and let us know how it went." (from anonymous homeless guy)
"Thank you Mike. Take care." (from Loren)

We started out that evening together with different agendas. I wanted to eat good food and relax. My Dad wanted to eat good food and minister to someone. He recognizes that people all have private pain and need the Lord. And he is always willing to take the time to get to know the nameless, faceless people of the world. I love that about him. Some people might find the fact that he talks to everyone annoying. I find it convicting.

Got The Blues

No, I'm not depressed. What I mean is I understand the Blues.

Thursday, as some may have gathered from my previous post, Dad and I went to B.B. King's Blues Club in Nashville. In the late afternoon during the week, it's very easy to get a table. We ate cheese fondue, bbq shrimp, ribs, and fries. AMAZING! It was so good. We finished eating around 5:45 and spent the next 2 hours walking around Nashville. (that's another post entirely)

At about 7:26, we found ourselves back at the entrance to the Blue's Club. Now, the music didn't start until 8:30 and we were already tired. Plus, we had to be at the hospital at 7am. We stood outside for about 2 minutes and debated whether or not we were staying. The bouncer (a very large, scary looking man who was very nice actually) informed us that we had 2 minutes to be inside before they started charging a cover charge. So, in we went. I mean, now it was free entertainment.

We sat at a table, drinking decaf coffee, for an hour while the place filled up. There were some interesting looking folks. I'm serious. One girl, I swear to you, had hair like Princess Leah from Star Wars. Another girl had some shiny knee-high black boots, covered in weird buckles and the whole sole was about three inches thick. Dad and I were having a ball staring shamelessly. I mean, these people looked in the mirror before they left home and felt that this was the best they could do. Wow. I won't even start on the dancers. Suffice it to say - Gross!

Finally the band was done setting up and ready to play. There was a drummer, an organist, a bass guitarist, a lead guitarist, a saxaphonist, a trumpet player, and 2 singers. The singers were a heavy-set, bald, white man and a skinny, pretty, black girl. I was not all that impressed. Until they started playing.

I have heard blues on the radio and even in movies. And as you know, I don't like repetitive noise. I was just hoping it wouldn't be annoying. But then the music started and I was captivated. There is something very alive about Blues. The musicians were having such a great time, laughing and "riffing". Before I knew it, I was tapping my fingers and smiling. It was great. Dad was enjoying himself and so was I. For a few moments, all the worry faded and I relaxed.

In a song, Chris Rice wrote about heaven, "I join in and I drink the music, holiness is the air I'm breathing." So, if that's true, blues would be a hot toddy. Warm and relaxing and invigorating.

Chris and his Mini-Me (aka Brody) at the Fall Festival. Brody went as his Daddy. We made his scrubs out of one of Chris' old sets. Cute, huh?  

So Much To Blog, So Little Time

Well, I'm back by popular demand. (If you can call 2 people "popular demand")

Dad's surgery went well. Dr.Lee was pleased. We were hoping it would only take a couple of hours but it took almost 4! I was 3 minutes away from a freak attack. But all was well.

While I was away, I learned some things. I'll put them in a list.

1. My Dad is hysterical when he's heavily medicated. Truly, truly funny to watch.

2. Vanderbilt Hospital is the blueprint for hell. I got soooo lost looking for "Medical Center North", which must NOT be confused with the North Tower of the Medical Center, or the North Plaza. Come to find out, it's hidden in the corner behind trees and huge buildings. And the sign for it's on the front, but the doors are on the side! AHHH!!!!

3. Some people are born without a sense of humor. It's a genetic defect. Their mommas should've drunk more orange juice while pregnant.

4. Some of the world's nicest people are disguised as scary, smelly people.

5. A blue's club is really dull at 4:15 on a Thursday afternoon. Now 9:00... that's a different story.

6. My Dad's new truck handles VERY differently from my mini-van. Don't ask.

7. University of Kentucky football fans are very loud at 11:45 at night. In the hotel room next to mine anyways.

8. Life can be very lonely when you're in a strange city all alone.

9. Bouncers are people too.

10. I'm more like my Granny than any one else. Only not as industrious. But at least I don't scare easy.

11. Being mistaken for your Dad's wife is really gross! No offense to Dad or Rhonda.

12.My sister and I would never survive if one of us moved away. Not even a chance.

13. Coming home to screams and cheers and hugs and kisses is awesome!


Well, that's all for tonight. I'll post more tomorrow. If you're lucky.

An Excerpt From My Life

Hello, Friends. Today is the day for a disjointed, somewhat rambling post.

Today is a beautiful, warm, sunny day in Alabama. The kids have played outside for a while. But right now, I am torturing them. Yes, you guessed it... they're taking a test on the structure of the Earth and volcanoes. And it's 3 pages long! Ain't I a stinker?

Chris and I cleaned out our shed. We found the "Ladybug Graveyard". Apparently, ladybugs come to my shed to die. Sort of like the elephant graveyard in the old Tarzan movies. But once we cleared away the ladybug carcasses, we got rid of so much junk! And in the process, we found a bucket of old tennis balls. Our foster-dog, Gabriel, is in heaven. He and all 4 kids played "Gabriel, drop the ball!" until he finally crawled under the porch to get some rest. All 4 kids were covered in dog slobber. Gross!!!!

Chris is having fun too. He's outside building Ty's Christmas present. Power tools and wood. Oh Yeah!

I've been running around all day trying to get things ready for my departure. I have to leave in the morning to take my Dad to Vanderbilt for his umpteenth surgery due to the wreck in 2003. This time, he's getting an entire elbow replacement. Please pray for him and his doctor, Dr. Lee. I'm trying not to worry or be afraid. But I am. I love my Daddy very much. Pray for me as I have to be up there alone and away from Chris and the kids. Pray for Kim as she'll have all my kids until Saturday.

My house is ready for me to be gone. Kim came up yesterday and helped me get rid of stuff. I got tired of fighting my girls to keep their room clean. So I took away everything. All that was left were the toys on their beds and the furniture. Then, if they could remember it and specifically name it, they could have it back. I gave away 4 Hefty bags of stuff. Now their room is clean!

My closets are empty. My dishes are washed. My laundry is done. My children are packed. I'm almost packed. I guess I'm about ready. I won't be posting again until Sunday or Monday. Talk to you guys soon. Bye!

To Breathe Or Not To Breathe

Sometimes life is hard. Not tragic, just hard. And it can change from day to day. Today was a hard day.

Let me clarify. Because we haven't sold the trailer and have no one to rent it, money is tight. The closer to the Holidays is gets, the tighter it is. Now, I don't mean that we can't pay our bills. We can. Our budget just has no room for breathing. And it's hard to go for long stretches of time without breathing. Ya know?

That wears me down like nothing else can. I hate money. I hate having it and not having it. I hate that I must think of it almost every day. I hate checkbooks and debit cards. I hate having to tell my kids "No" all the time. Of course, I hate it worse that they ask for stuff all the time. *Today, Ty informed me that he now collects old cell phones and old keys. AAHHH!!!* But most of all, I hate the effect of money on me.

I sense in myself the desire to be comfortable. I want to beg God to make life easy. I want to figure out a way to earn money. I want to ,spiritually speaking, be wearing elastic-waist pants that are comfy and easy to breathe in. But in my present state, it's like I'm wearing pants that button and are one size too small. Every time I try to breathe, I am reminded to trust God. The tight spots and trials are the very things that push me to trust. (James 1:2-4) Every time I think about putting on my spiritual moo-moo of self-sufficiency, I long to be made beautiful. I want to trust God more than I want to be comfortable. I want to, like it says in 1Peter 3:4, have the beauty of a quiet and gentle spirit that waits for my Redeemer to come. How much more wonderful it is to let my Bridegroom come in and care for me.

Is He big enough? Strong enough? Sovereign enough? Intimate enough? Will He take care of us? If the Bible is true.... yes, to all of the above. Is there joy in the "tight pants" of my faith? Absolutely! Whatever it takes to remind me of Him. And money will not always be tight. But something else will crop up. And I will have to choose to trust Him with it.

The beauty of Heaven, to me, is knowing that I'll be able to feel His breath on my face and sigh with contentment, knowing that there are no tight pants in Heaven! All is perfected.

My Child the Taco

I was having a discussion with some friends the other day about how my kids respond to discipline. As a child, I was a "wailer". I would start shrieking and wailing the minute my Mother said anything about a spanking. She was always afraid the neighbors would call the cops and she hadn't even touched me yet. My kids are no different but they do have different strategies.

Maggie is the human taco. She folds her body completely in half backwards. With her arms flailing behind her and alternating from foot to foot. Her head is bent back and her body is twisting the entire time. And all this is before I'm even ready to give her a pop. She makes it much harder on herself. Same as with the rest of her life.

Ty closes in on himself. He stops talking. He clenches his cheeks and stoically takes it. He just wants to get it over with. Same as the rest of his life.

Gracie does what I call "the stiff arm". She's like I was as a kid. The weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth starts way ahead of time. She stiffens her elbows, gets red in the face and screams. She will fight me to the bitter end. Same as the rest of her life.

Brody is a little undefined still. He's only had to get a few spankings. But when he does something he knows is wrong. He'll put both hands on his rear and start sidestepping away from me, repeating the mantra "No Momma No Momma No Momma No" He wants to dissuade me from my present course. Pretty much the same as the rest of his life.

Makes me wonder? What do I do to avoid discipline? I justify, argue, berate, and avoid. Pretty much.... all of my kids combined.

Amber, if you thought they looked like a Gap ad before..... This was made last year at the beach. I must admit, I've got some good lookin kids.  

Baal

If you're like I was, you think that Baal is a particular type of false god. But according to Tim Keller, senior pastor of Redeemer Pres, a baal is a generic term. It was used to refer to the numerous idols of gods and godesses of the Canaanites that dotted the land at the time of the Old Testament. I looked it up - he's right. Keller goes on to say that anything can become a Baal for us.

I have come to realize more and more over the past few years just how true that is. It's not the "bad" things that I idolize. It's the "good" things. It's cleanliness, motherhood, matrimony, homeschooling, etc. Usually, it's the things that I think make me more pleasing to God. I can avoid, with relative ease, the drunken orgies and murder. But idols are those things that we think about more than God. They are those things that, if I lost them, would devastate me. The things that weigh down my heart before Him.

We've been talking in Wednesday night class about how repentance has always seemed to be asking forgiveness and then trying harder. Isn't that what sanctification is? God saved me. Now I have to dig in and try really hard to change myself. NOPE! That's using the flesh to conquer the flesh. Doesn't work.

What I am realizing more and more is that when I am consumed with... whatever, I have lost my spiritual focus. When I try hard to sanctify myself, I'm saying that God is either not big enough to do it for me or He doesn't care enough to be that involved. Neither of which is true. He is both big enough to handle it and intimately passionate about me to want to. It's tricky. How do I relax and trust Him to make me holy and not sit around doing nothing all day? I'm not sure of the answer to that question. All I know is that it's a day by day, moment by moment turning my heart to remember His love.

Life would be much simpler if my only idol was a porcelain unicorn that I could smash with a hammer.

God's Active Mercy

Occasionally, things will happen in my life that surprise me. My life is fairly predictable, so this is unusual. I don't like it when the little surprises are "Hey, I forgot to pay the power bill!" Those are bad surprises.

It is always a great surprise to me when my children say something profound. And most of the time, if I ask them where they learned it, their answer will more than likely be - from Mrs. Morgan or Mrs. Toni told me or Mrs. Rita said. Makes me very, very thankful that we have the best church in the world. But I also have feelings of being ineffective or unheard.

And then God sends me a sign. A note of encouragement. For instance, on the way home the other night, Gracie asked Maggie to sing a Girl Scout song. It's a version of If You're Happy and You Know It. Only it has verses that go something like, "If you think Boy Scouts are great clap your hands" to which the girls respond by not clapping and singing instead, "Oops, I missed." It has several verses. Maggie proceeded to tell Gracie that she didn't think they should sing that song anymore because she (Maggie) had been thinking and the song is disrespectful to boys. She said that she'd thought it over and the song implied that boys were stupid and not as good as girls. I felt a surge of joy. Not just over her decision but because she thought! Maggie sat and contemplated the song and it's value. She thought. It was a good moment.

So maybe I'm not beating my head against a wall as much as I think I am. And even if I am, God still commands that I not give up. But press on, keeping my eyes on Christ the whole way. And stop thinking that the results are up to me. God is working in my little ones. I can never begin to do what He has promised He will do, is doing. God's active mercy soothes my spirit and calms my heart. All my past sins are past. His mercies are new every morning. To me and my kids. Thank God for that!

Brendan's blogging!

I am so proud. Brendan has set up his own blog site! For those of you who don't know, Bren is my nephew. I jokingly call him my 'first child'. I used to keep him a lot. Poor Kim, I tried to take over. Check out his blog. It's good! http://www.thelifeofbrendan.blogspot.com

Laughter

I love to laugh. I love romantic comedies, comedic books, I Love Lucy, jokes of the day, irony, satire, and wit. I love one-liners and 'zingers'. I love what I call internally-visual comedy. It's the kind that makes you picture the absurd situations the characters are in. Patrick McMannus is a comedic writer who is a master of this, just ask Angela. He makes me lose my breath laughing.

British comedy cracks me up. Mr. Bean especially. Barry lent us his Mr. Bean dvds after my surgery but I couldn't watch them because it hurt to laugh that hard. Monty Python: The Holy Grail is a favorite. It's the only movie I can think of that, if you ask someone if they've seen it, their answer is to quote their favorite lines. Which is usually half the movie. My personal favorite is "Help! Help! I'm being repressed! Come see the violence inherent in the system!" That makes me giggle even now.

My family loves to laugh. As a little girl, I remember trying to fall asleep in my bed at my Nanny and PawPaw's but failing because my family would be laughing SO loudly! I grew up around it. But Kim has what is called "inappropriate laughter". She really does. It's funny to me. If she's really nervous or intensely sad, she just starts laughing. It's quite bizarre when it happens. But it usually brings about a relief to the tension in the room. Like Dolly Parton says in Steel Magnolias, "Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion." That, by the way, is my favorite movie quote.

Stop a minute and think about laughter. We all know that it feels great, and I'm sure we've even heard the verses in Proverbs about it. But if you really think about it, it's kind of mystical. If someone is feeling out of place, it can make them relax and feel included. It also produces a chemical reaction in our bodies. Endorphines are released. Science has proven that people who laugh a lot are basically healthier. Laughter improves heart health, lowers blood sugar and blood pressure, improves the immune system, lowers stress, makes bones heal faster, etc. I find all that amazing. Why did God make us that way?

Everything that God has created points us to Him. Laughter is no different. When I laugh, it's because I'm enjoying something. And if I recognize that all good things come from God, that He is not impassive but very active in my life, then in that moment, I'm enjoying Him. I am acknowledging His presence and love for me, and it releases me to savor Him. That's what Jon Piper calls 'Christian Hedonism'. Glorifying God by enjoying Him forever.

Patrick

Some of you know Chris' brother, Patrick. Others of you may not. I need to preface this blog by saying that I didn't get Patrick's permission to talk about him. So I might delete it if it makes him very uncomfortable. That said...

Chris has one brother, five years younger. His name is Patrick. He is almost the direct physical opposite of Chris. Chris is relatively short, Patrick is really tall. Chris is broad shouldered and muscular, Patrick is more on the lanky side. Chris is beautifully bald, Patrick has thick, dark hair. But they both have blue eyes. Chris looks like their Dad, Patrick looks like their Mom. Chris is very practical with a bent towards engineering, Patrick is very hip, with a trend towards design. They are like all good things wrapped into two people.

Some people are born with a natural charisma- Patrick is one of these people. He has a pretty face and a sharp mind. But most of all, I think, is that he has a generous, loving spirit. He listens well and is very, very funny. Very witty. He sings and knows all the latest trends. He has a cd out. Ckeck it out at www.patrickwilliamsharp.com

To my children, he is the closest thing to Santa Claus that they'll ever know. He flies on airplanes every week, for heaven's sake. That's very cool to a kid. He has lots of neat toys. Like an ipod, laptop, and camera phone. Plus, the last time he visited, he brought Silly String! And when he's here for a long visit, each kid gets a date with him that usually includes a trip to Target. He plays in the floor with them and listens to what they have to say. What more could you ask for as a kid?

But the thing that I've observed over the years is the way he's grown up in Christ. He went from being someone that I admired to being someone I respect. For me, that says a lot. There is something tangible about a man who loves God. It eminates from him in waves. If a man says he loves Christ but really doesn't, you can tell. But if a man adores Christ, he doesn't even have to say anything, you can just tell. Patrick has a strength and peace about him now. It above all else makes him beautiful.

Chris' dad is a wonderful model for his boys. He loves the Lord in a strong, steady way. And he loves their mother fiercely. He has more love in him than almost any other person I've ever known. Except his sons. There is a familial bond there that amazes me. It's not the kind that makes them call each other every day. It's stronger than that, all that's not necessary. They know that they love each other. And I am a part of that now. I am their daughter. Margaret calls me their "daughter-in-love". (I won't talk about Margaret now, she's a completely separate post.)

I see my husband and brother-in-law and father-in-law and I am humbled. They each love the Lord in their own way that leads me to trust even more. They make the people around them more beautiful. That's the way God designed it to be.

I look at my sons with joyful anticipation.

This is what Patrick's CD cover looks like.

Roller Coaster

Why is it that when everything in our lives is going well, that we expect something to go wrong? Maybe it's because something always does go wrong. What I mean by that is, life is a roller coaster. With ups and downs and curves. So we do cycle in and out of the good and the bad. The problem with me is that when the good times are here, I'm not enjoying them full force because I'm not relaxing...

The other problem I have is second guessing myself. Like this blog. I am loving writing these posts, whether anyone reads them or not. This is the way I really think. (scary huh?)I don't sit at the computer trying to come up with something that sounds good. (obviously) I have to share my sin and insecurities or else I'd have nothing else to write about. I know that God is with me in all that I do. And it's through my contemplations that I listen for Him.

But I struggle with the fine line between pleasure and pride. If God gives me something to do that I'm good at, it is worship to be thankful and enjoy it. I mean, that's what the first question of the Westminster Shorter Catechism is all about.

Q.What is the chief end of man?
A. To glorify God and enjoy Him forever.

I think that if I'm only enjoying the circumstances that I'm in at the moment, then I'm bound to be disappointed. Because like I said before, things change and cycle. But God is constant. He is in all that surrounds me. The things that I view as tragic, He knows to be good. And I can trust Him. And when His 'good' is an enjoyable kind of good, then I need to realx and enjoy it. And at the same time enjoy Him.

Aren't we sweet?! This is Kim and I when we lived in the trailer in Jasper in 1975. It looks like a pic of Ellas and Brody.

This is my Mom in 1981. It's funny how most of my concrete memories are from when she looked like this.

Momma

Tonight, I miss my Mother. I miss her very much.

I can see so many things in my mind. Her eyes weren't a boring, old hazel. They were green with streaks of gold in them. I know this because when I was little and she'd hold me in her lap, I would stare really hard at them. They were exotic looking. Her hands were small. Her fingers were long and slender with fingernails shaped just like mine. Maggie's are a lot like them. But her skin was very white with freckles. I can see the way she formed her mouth when she talked. Her top lip was smaller than mine. My lips are like my Dad's.

I was in a store the other day and I smelled her. Smell is a powerful thing. In that moment, when I closed my eyes, I could hear her heart beating under my ear. Just like when I was a little girl and I would lay in her lap at night while she watched MASH. I would lay there with my eyes closed and let the smell of her powder and perfume surround me. And I can hear her humming while she played with my hair. She had a very pretty voice, kind of low. And she would hum and then stop and breathe in really deeply through her nose so she could hum longer. I loved that. I have a cassette tape of her singing. I can't listen to it though, it makes my heart hurt.

A part of me is gone from this Earth. It is a part of me that my children will never know. I have little mannerisms like her that only my Dad and sister can recognize. I have to teach Brody to say "Bubbe" by pointing to a picture. He has no idea who she is. There will be events in my childhood that will always be fuzzy because I have no Mother to clarify them. No Mother to tell me whose house we used to go to that had a giant dalmation, things like that.

Why did she have to die? Why did she have to leave me years before she died? I know some will spout trite phrases at my pain, but it's not enough. It will never be enough. I knew that she was going to die. That there was no way around it. I knew things would never get better, couldn't get better. But I still loved her, missed her. I think now I'm passed the grieving over what she was at the end, what she lived in. But I will always miss my Momma. I will always long for her to be there.

The only comfort I have is that God is sovereign. God is good. And God loves me. God loves my Momma. I cling to that more tightly than I ever have to anything else. He never left her. And only he knows my heart and my pain. He weeps with me as I weep now.

And in the voice of a Chris Rice song, 'And with her final heartbeat, she kissed this world good-bye and went in peace and danced on Glory's side'. And now she sits in His lap and hears His heartbeat. And she knows that I love her. And that I always have. Always will.

More Opinions

Tonight is the night for the continuation of 'My Opinions'. But it's actually just random thoughts. I'll keep it short 'cause I'm really tired.

I have a confession. I broke down and went to Wal-Mart. Three of my kids had colds and I needed the generic versions of Motrin, yellow Triaminic, and purple Triaminic. Now, .. I don't want to shock you too badly, but ... they didn't have any of them! I know, I shouldn't have been surprised but I was. Am I stupid or gullible or what? They had only the name brands (which I could have gotten at Food World). Why do I even try?

I've come to the conclusion that some people may never like me. I truly don't understand what's not to like but... Only kidding of course. I understand why some people don't like me. The really amazing thing is that some people do like me.

I am now officially the head of Women's Ministry at my church. Which is bizarre for many reasons. One, the Session approved my name. Two, can I possibly be old enough to do something like that?(I know I am but it doesn't feel like it) Three, I just know that I'm going to mess something up in a big way. Four, why don't people know that?

I dream about weird stuff. Like Taco Bell being inside an office building which was actually my house.

I talk way too much.

I don't understand people who like animals so much that they let them lick their mouth. That's just nasty.

I made 2 cakes tonight. They're for a baby shower tomorrow. I'm sure people will say how cute they are. But take my word for it, they are strugglin'.

I hate to shave my legs. I do it, but it's under duress.

My husband is the closest thing to perfect on this planet. I still get awestruck to think that Chris Sharp loves me. That is unbelievable. And I know when he reads this, he'll say something along the lines of "She's so goofy." But that's just cause he's embarrassed. Deep down, he knows he's cool.

My sister puts up with so much crap from me. And she doesn't seem to mind it. That's probably because she's the most generous and loyal person I've ever known. And since she doesn't read my blogs, it's safe to say that.

My Aunt Denise told me a few years ago that she always hated when we called her "Neesee". I was devastated. Not really, but it was strange. I always said it with such deep affection and it always annoyed her. Who knew?

I should be asleep now. It's gonna be a long day tomorrow.

This is my friend Kim's baby, Felix. He was in the pirate picture I posted the other day. Look at this hair! Isn't it great? 

My Pal Werhner

Today was the day of our big field trip. Kim and I both decided that since neither of us had bags of money lying around the house, this year we were going to really make our field trips count. So, that meant no Children's theater, no American Village, no trips that don't tie in with the theme of our studies.

Well, tomorrow is the end of a 9 week unit study on the Solar System. Maggie, Ty and Gracie each have a three-ring binder full of 'space stuff'. Maggie and Ty's are much thicker than Gracie's. They have studied : the Sun, stars, Mercury, Venus, Earth, the Moon, Mars and its moons, the Asteroid Belt, Jupiter and its moons, Saturn and its moons, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto and its moon, comets, meteors, Ptolemy, Aristotle, Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, Newton, Jules Vern, Werhner von Braun, rockets, the International Space Station, and all things NASA. That is A LOT of stuff!

There have been lots of worksheets, science experiments, books, videos, and discussions. I felt like they had enjoyed it but I wasn't very confident of how much information had actually sunk in. That is, until today. We got about a mile away from the Space Center and pandemonium broke out in the van.

Loud choruses of "Look! It's a rocket." "It's a Redstone rocket!" "It's the Saturn 5!" They were so stinkin' excited! I was amazed. Then we pulled into the parking lot and they spotted the Space Shuttle and another round of hysterics let loose. Now I was getting excited. Kim was too.

Do you know where my kids remembered the most information? In the section on Werhner von Braun. Don't get me wrong, they remembered a bunch of other things, but that section on von Braun really brought things to life for them. They were fascinated by his pictures, his models, his desk, even his pencils on his desk. It was like they knew him or something. Ty, for one, seems to admire him. I think it has something to do with von Braun blowing up a toy wagon when he was 16 trying to build a rocket or maybe the fact that he "stole" a train in order to save his research team during World War 2. That's cool stuff to an 8 year old boy. Makes me a little nervous though.

I watched my kids run through that museum, laughing, talking and remembering what I had taught them. It was very gratifying. For Gracie to want to buy postcards of the planets because she remembered them was great. Maggie got animated when she saw a parachute. She thinks it's cool that the Orbiter and Solid Rocket Boosters use them to slow down.

I'm telling you, it was a sight to behold. And it made me think... I spend so much of my time worrying about my kids. I worry over their education, their imagination, their socialization, etc, etc, ad naseum. But I did the best I could and God blessed it. He took my efforts, done out of love for Him and my kids, and made it fruitful. It wasn't me. It was Him.

He knew when He rescued Werhner von Braun from the Nazis that, one day, a little boy named Ty would be amazed by it. God knew when He gave these scientists and engineers the ability to envision a way into space that 2 little girls would see the bigness of God through that.

He has my name and my children's names on His heart and has since before the foundations of the Earth. He is interested in all the things that happen in their lives. Because it's through the daily things that we really see God's face. I've always thought that I would see God more through miracles but didn't Jesus say "Blessed are those who haven't seen[miracles] and yet believe." I think that's in John 20:29.

Does that means we know God better and more deeply through the little things? Is that why He tells us in Deuteronomy 11 to teach them to our children when we are going out and coming in, when we lie down and when we get up, when we are sitting at home and when we are walking down the road? I don't think those verses mean we are to be spouting theology and catechism questions all the time, but showing our kids that God is present in all of those instances. I mean, these are random thoughts and I might be wrong, but lots of people saw Jesus' miracles but the ones who really, really knew Him were the ones who ate with Him, walked with Him, went to the bathroom with Him, and did all of the mundane, ordinary things of life with Him. That's where we tend to live and He meets us where we are. I think that until I realize that God is big enough to fill up my world, I won't ever be able to completely trust Him with it.

"In all your ways ackowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight." Proverbs 3:6

all- adj.- the whole of. noun- everything
acknowledge - verb - admit as true

My kids and Ellas "with" Werhner von Braun at the US Space and Rocket Center In Huntsville. It's not the best picture but I forgot my camera and had to take the picture with my phone.  

What Is Wrong With My Children?

That is what I was asking myself a few nights ago.

Chris and I have new friends. They're names are Evan and Leigh. They are a very fun, sweet, newly married couple.They don't have kids yet but they do have a beautiful house to which they have done a lot of renovations. And when I say a lot, I mean every room of the house. It's amazing.

Enter: the Sharps. *scary music in the background* Dum. Dum. Dum.

In one night, my children lit the candles on the enclosed back porch and then dripped the wax on the floor, the couch, and the coffee table. Oh yes, they did. Then, Gracie said the green beans that Leigh had made were "nasty." And you know Gracie, there is no such thing as quiet. After that, Maggie and Ty went into the office, turned the radio to a rap station, and cranked up the volume. Brody tried to feed their cat (who still has stitches from surgery) very small Kinex pieces. (Kinex are sort of like Legos) Ty and Gracie started playing chase... in the house. Then Maggie left her cake unattended and Brody got cake and icing everywhere. It seems like there was something else but since I don't want to cry, I'm not going to try very hard to remember.

After the cake incident, I was officially stressed out. I told Chris that it was time to GO! I could feel my face was very red and I was trying not to cry. I was really embarrassed and on top of that, I was ashamed of being embarrassed. While Chris was dealing with the kids, I was cleaning things up. I looked up and Evan was looking straight at me. I swear, he's so much like Chris it's bizarre. I pretended not to notice because I didn't have it together enough to make a pithy comment. (The pithy comment is crucial to showing that you've got it all together.) But I heard Evan whisper something to Leigh and in about 5 seconds, she was in the kitchen offering me the biggest dose of grace I've seen in a long time.

Faced with such grace, I had 2 choices. I could blow it off. Lie like a dog and say, "Oh no, I'm fine. Really. Nothing's wrong. I'm just so sorry about your stuff." OR I could 'fess up to my pride and receive what she was offering. In the face of that, I realized that an apology wasn't even neccessary. She offered forgiveness before I could even try to apologize or better yet, attempt penance. I could tell that her forgiveness and acceptance was genuine and complete. All I had to do was relax and accept it. Sounds familiar doesn't it?

Lord help her, cause I'm sure we'll go back. Only this time with leashes.

This is an old picture. Ty was about three. You can see the foundation of our house above the front tire. This is Barry's motorcycle. I mentioned it in my last blog. Cool, huh? 

Staying True

How does one keep from getting gobbled up by life? I mean, we all have our own existence, but it seems that it's so easy to be consumed by it. My life is set up around being a wife and mother. My friend, Laura, is a wife and physician's assistant in an inner-city ER. My friend Barry's life is set up to work (a lot) and take care of his parents and sister. And the list goes on.

How is it that responsibilities flood over us and take over our whole being? Yes, I am a mother and wife. And I love it. But I am so much more than just my responsibilities. I love to laugh at stupid jokes and ironies. I love the feel of the wind on my skin in the Spring. I love to write and read and walk through the woods. I am the sum of all my parts not just a few.

I am more than an organizer and cook and teacher. I didn't realize that fact had slipped away a bit until about a year ago. Our friend Barry took me for a ride on his motorcycle. I hadn't ridden in a long, long time. When you're on a bike, you can't talk on the phone or plan a menu. If you're the passenger, all that is possible is to hang on and experience. You can't really have a deep conversation, just snatches of it. I sat on that bike and remembered a part of myself that I'd grown apart from. I am an 'experiencer'. I feel things in a weird kind of way. I notice things. The smells, the sounds, the light on the trees, the feeling of it all.

It was that ride that changed the way I view things. I am the same person I was fifteen years ago. The only difference is that I have more life experience and many more responsibilities. But at heart, I'm still the girl that loves knee-high moccosins and Led Zepplin. I still miss my friend Lori who died all those years ago. I am weird. I am goofy and fun and annoying and emotional and talkative. I am not defined by my job or my sin or my hobbies. I am, quite simply, myself.

God created my personality and sense of humor. He created my sensitivity and all the words swirling in my head. He wants me to think and feel. He thinks I'm funny. He wants me to laugh. He wants me to be true to myself. Because when I am really true to myself, I'm remembering Him. I am saying that the person He created is beautiful. And I want to be her. It's an act of thankfulness to be me.

My Stupid Mouth

Have any of you ever said something that you regret later? Come on... 'fess up. You know you have. Something like.... you look across the room and comment on how much that guy coming in looks just like a hobbit and the woman next to you says.."That's my husband." That sort of thing.

Shockingly, I do that a lot. I got mad at Gracie the other day as we were getting out of the van at Food World because she had not obeyed me and put her shoes on before we got there. My comment? "No, Gracie. You cannot go barefoot. We are NOT rednecks. We do not go into stores without our shoes!" Guess who was sitting in the next parking spot, with their windows down? A car load of rednecks. Yes. I am totally serious.

In instances like that, of which there are several, I try to quickly forget it. I try to convince myself that it was an honest mistake. Or I am pounded into the floor by the voice of my Mother in my head quoting from the book of James about controlling my tongue. Which in turn, makes me resolve to try harder to do better.

But guess what? What the comment about rednecks shows, is a deep and abiding arrogance. It shows me that appearance means too much to me. It shows me that there is more sin in my life than I can imagine. It goes way deeper than surface stuff. I have a standard that must be upheld. I taught it to my kids that night, and the people in the car beside me. How is that "full of grace"? How does that show the love of Christ to anyone? It doesn't. And that deep pride is what I need to repent of, not just the hurtful comment.

Yes, I should think before I speak. Yes, I should control my tongue. But more importantly, I should remember that Christ came and sought out the "rednecks". He ate with them and was their champion. He rescued them and blessed their children. He died for them. He sought out the undesirable ones. I for one, don't want to be viewed as undesirable. I want to be self-sufficient and liked. It is humbling and occassionally offensive to know that I am a 'loser'. But I am. And thank God for it. It's a beautiful thing to know that I'm not worthy and He knows that and wants me anyway. What does Matthew 5:3 say? Isn't it something like, Blessed are the rednecks, the ones who have nothing to offer, the poor?

I have nothing to offer other than my good works, which are like dirty tampons to Him. I'm sorry if that grosses you out or seems shocking but that's what he calls our good works in Isaiah 64:6. That's what 'filthy rags' are. My arrogance is a slap in the face to the Love of Christ. It says that I am better than my Savior. I want to have something of value to offer Him. But I don't. And that is what the very definition of Grace is. John 15:16 says "You did not choose me, but I chose you." From the foundation of the world, He knew my name. And who knows, maybe even now He's calling one of the people in that car at Food World.

This is one of my favorite wedding pictures. It always makes me laugh. It's so silly and fun. Just like us, I like to think.