Retreat a Bust So Far

Well, I don't think the retreat is going all that well... so far, only my sister and I have signed up. I'm hoping that's just because no one's gotten around to it.
If that's the case... GET AROUND TO IT! Please don't make the Retreat Committee do all the work at the last minute. Register: http://www.communitypca.net/ Look in the panel on the right.

Tired and Itchy

I started this post yesterday morning but ran out of time to finish...


I'm tired. Plain and simple. I wanted to sleep in today but, alas, I couldn't. I had to get up and get Ty ready for his big game. (He found out at his last practice that he's starting today - offense and defense) So I got up and fed him the big breakfast - 3 eggs w/ bacon, 2 biscuits and chocolate milk. It seems to stick with him for the 3 hours until the game.



So, I'm up. The laundy's going, the dishes are washed and put away and I'm only a little bit grumpy. My bed keeps whispering my name just loud enough for me to hear but I am steadfastly ignoring it. Maybe if it smells coffee it will shut up. Stupid vocal bed.



The kids and I spent a few days with Boo and her mom and sis at the family farm. So, so nice. So very lovely and relaxing and almost vacation-like. We walked around the pond, ate yummy food, the kids jumped on the trampoline for hours on end and we talked. Such great, edifying conversation. And then we took the kids down to the creek. I know that sounds like a quick trip, but it's not. The creek is about a mile away. But we did drive to it... in my van... through a pasture... with really tall grass... and down a hill... with a large trench in the middle of the 'road'. Good times. We laughed a lot. It was like being on a safari. At least that's what Missy said and she's actually been on a safari, so we'll take her word for it.



About the creek: this is a classic example of a creek gone bad. It's a very deceptive creek; looking all lovely and tranquil but hiding many deeply jack-up secrets. We had the good fortune to discover some of its more twisted secrets. For example: this creek is home to many small, very deep, hidden holes as well as millions of pretty rocks that are covered in invisible slime. These things conspired against our poor, defenseless children and ended up soaking them from head to toe. Did I forget to mention that this creek is spring-fed aka frickin' cold? Another Secret of the Creek that we discovered is that it is home to mutant, African, attack, jungle mosquitoes. Moquitoes so large and fieresome that they laugh at bug repellent. (I heard them) They are so big that when they bite you, it feels like a hypodermic syringe plunging into your skin. They are so ambitious that they bite you through your clothing and can even reach your scalp through your hair. So numerous that you feel like you're having a nightmare. The creek and moquitoes are in cahoots. If you want to get away from the mosquitoes, you could hide under the surface of the water but then you would die of hypothermia. So you are left with a choice: hypothermia and frostbite or west nile virus and gargantuan itchy welps. Tough choice. We just went home.



So it was a lovely week. Wish you could have been there. Well, not really cause most of you have lots of kids and that would have been too much of a good thing. But theoretically I would have loved for you to be there. I'll try to post pictures soon.

Working Out Fail

This is the very reason that I don't go to the gym. Ever.

Announcements

Calling all women:

I have 2 announcements to make.

Announcement #1 - Rebekah Ray's baby shower is THIS Sunday! We have waited six months for the opportunity to shower her with gifts and this is it. She is registered at Target and Babies-R-Us. Baby Jonathon is now 10 pounds and wearing 3-6 month clothes. They need older baby stuff, diapers, wipes and toys. No newborn stuff needed. The shower is in the YAC and starts at 2:00 this Sunday.

Announcement #2 - Women's Retreat is on the books. We're heading back to Hargis. October 10-11. Limited beds are available, only 30 beds. More space is available during the day, just not overnight. The cost will be around $40. I'll give you more info when I have it.


You may now return to your normal activities. Thanks for your attention.

2 Suggestions

1. Maggie has started blogging again. She has a new template and playlist. She'd really love a few comments. Humor me.

2. Facebook is really fun. I've found several friends from high school. One of whom is eurobiking. Very cool and yet makes me feel like an under-achiever. It's fun to get a glimpse into some one's life everyday. Try it out. I think you'll like it. I honestly didn't think I would like it, but I do. Just don't ask me what flair is.

Light Bulbs

My heart begins to pound. My self esteem takes a nose dive. A panic attack is imminent. I feel like an idiot. All because I have to buy a light bulb.

Have you ever stood and just looked at the light bulb aisle? It's completely out of control. Indoor floodlights, outdoor floodlights, indoor spotlights, outdoor spotlights, halogen, fluorescent, 60 watt, 40 watt, 25 watt, 75 watt, 100 watt, soft white, 13 watt that takes the place of a 60 watt, medium base, small base, and on and on and on. And what if you need those funny shaped bulbs for your dining room? What if you have a dimmer switch for that fixture? What if...?

It's enough to make me crazy. Last time I bought bulbs, I took three different burned out bulbs with me. Otherwise I end up with the wrong kind. Just look in my kitchen. We have recessed lights (what my Dad calls 'can lights'). They require a great big bulb. But the one I bought was gigantic. I don't care. I put it in anyway. So what if it sticks out of the ceiling?

Heather made fun of me for the fact that I only had three working bulbs in my six bulb dining room fixture. It's just because I'm terrified of the bulb aisle. I will literally divert my eyes from it as I walk past.

I will help my nephew with Chemistry. I will speak at women's events in front of a hundred people. I will go shoe shopping with my husband. I will get a root canal with no laughing gas. I will organize the feeding of 700 people. But buy light bulbs? No thank you.

Last time, like I said, I had the three burned out bulbs. I held them aloft and had my kids find the match. It was very educational. Like a field trip or something.

Maybe it's the sheer volume of sensory input on that aisle. Maybe it's a latent phobia of illumination options. Maybe it's that I'm just not smart enough to buy light bulbs. So the conclusion that we come to is...

How many Sharps does it take to change a light bulb?

Six. 1 to hold it up in the air, 4 to locate a new one and then 1 more to put it in.

There are obsessions that are completely unwarranted, like peanut butter and bologna sandwiches. Or CSI Miami. If you see someone obsessed with things like that, then you pretty much write them off with a 'bless their heart'.

But there are certain obsessions or loves that are reasonable. I would say that Act of Congress is reasonable. I just got home from Workplay and MAN, what a concert! Amazing. They sold out the venue. I knew they would, that's why I bought my tickets like 3 weeks ago.

I invited a friend of mine to come to the concert. We hadn't seen each other in a long time and we had a blast. I watched her as she enjoyed the concert and realized that it's not just my love for Adam and Jessica that color my love for AOC. They are really just brilliant. Melissa said afterwards that it was the most fun she's ever had at a concert. She laughed and cried and was awed.

As I reveled in the laughter and beauty, I couldn't help but praise God. For his beauty that inspires these artists and for his grace that enables me to enjoy it. For his gift to my family of friendship with Adam and Jessica. For his glory that was displayed tonight. He is good. He is the author of all good things.

So my "obsession" with my new CD (actually I bought 4), is just me trying to suck all the glory out of something beautiful. I will not apologize. And I ask you to join me...

Dial Up

Well, here's a first... I'm blogging on my laptop. And I'm doing it at Chris' grandmother's house. I've never had internet at her house before. Dial-up can be useful sometimes. It's still slow.

I met my Dad in Birmingham tonight and got our school books back. Hurray! Now it's back to 'regular' school work tomorrow. A sigh of relief from me and collective groans from the children.

Well, I think I'll put the kids to bed and kiss my husband good night before he leaves for work. Good night!

Answers to Random Questions

"I have no idea. Ask your brother."

"When you're old enough to pay the bill."

"Because they damage you psychologically."

"No. I don't have a million dollars."

"It is never okay to eat like a dog."

"i-n-c-o-m-p-r-e-h-e-n-s-i-b-l-e"

"Yes."

Random Questions

"Do you have to have Jedi blood in order to be a Jedi?"

"When can I have a cell phone?"

"Why can't I play games with blood in them?"

"Can I have a million dollars to put in my pocket?"

"Is it okay to eat like a dog as long as we're not in a resturant?"

"How do you spell 'incomprehensible'?"

"Can I have a mohawk?"


All questions that I have been asked in the very recent past.

I told you that I wasn't dead. I guess I have to prove it.

I've started several posts in the past few weeks but halfway through they just seemed stupid so I deleted them. I've been very unsettled in my mind lately. Lots of things swirling around in there. Among them: football, church planting, evangelism, homeschool snobbery, Latin, death, condemnation, scheduling, needs, prayer, pain, writing, computers. Too much. No way to post coherently.

I thought I would hate being at the football field 4 nights a week but was surprised to learn that it's enjoyable. I don't get cellphone service, so it's like being on vacation when I'm there. Plus, Ty's a good player. That's always nice.

I have grown more and more uncomfortable talking about homeschooling. No matter what I say I'm judged by someone or else I hurt their feelings. I hate it. If I say that I feel I can give my children a better education than Odenville City Schools, then the homeschoolers applaud and public schoolers hate me and get defensive. If I say that, on the other hand, I'm not afraid of sending my kids to public school, then I've alienated homeschoolers and, for many, dissed their very reason for homeschooling. Now we must take into account the fact that I am using massive generalizations that do not apply to all people of either segment. So I don't want to talk about it. I don't feel like either way is the "right" way. Now... that's all I have to say about that. Period.

I have had needs that God has graciously met. I needed a vacuum cleaner. God provided one for me through the Nolds. I needed a laptop. God provided that too. And for free. He also provided a new desktop. I am grateful. Chris and I have recently seen church signs that tell us why God blessed us. 1."If you put God on display He will perform." and 2."If praises go up, blessing come down." These signs tell me that I must be doing something right. I'm praising and putting God on display. Only... that is stupid and heretical. I haven't done anything to ever deserve God's grace to me. And yet he blesses. Amazing. He is worthy of all the praise I could ever give and so much more. I am inadequate to express my inadequacies. I am loved. I am no longer an orphan. I don't have to flatter my Father, I just tell him the truth of how beautiful he is. His blessings to me bring him glory.

My grandfather if dying. It makes me more sad than I can express. It also drags back all the feelings of loss that my mother's death brought. I want to run from this emotional storm but know that I must run into the very heart of it. I know that God is there and holds my heart in his hand and still I run. I run from tears and the ripping of my heart. I run from a sadness that makes me nauseous. I run from my brokenness. I want God to rescue me from this need to run. He tells me to embrace this pain, feel it. Cry. I know that I must. I know that I will. And I dread it.

That, my friends, is a very brief synopsis of my thoughts. I've left much out. TMI.

I am not dead. More info to come.

My New Obsession

In one of her comments, Missy alluded to the fact that I can be slightly obsessive. At first I disagreed with her just on principle. But then of course, my finely tuned honesty reflex kicked in and I had to admit that, yes, sometimes I can be a little bit obsessive.

I have been obsessed with Sean Watkins' music, Colin Firth, IMDB message boards, various and sundry books, Derek Webb (not as much as Chris, mind you), Jane Eyre (book and movie) and now I am just the tiniest bit obsessed with Act of Congress. (www.myspace.com/actofcongress)

AOC's music grabs me by the hand, forces me into a chair and slaps a smile on my face. I am powerless against the repeat button. My kids listen for a while and then move on to other things. And it's just the Myspace page right now. The CD hasn't even been released yet. But I do have my tickets for the CD release concert purchased and in a safe place. Just a little worried that they'll sell out. I had a nightmare last night that I forgot the concert. Forgot! I woke up reassuring myself that all was well... September 5th is still a ways away yet.

I hope I'm not a freak. It's just that it's the exact style and lyrics that suit my tastes. Sorry Adam... don't be afraid of me. I will calm down sometime after the 500th time that I listen to the CD. And then I'll start the annoying process of begging for a new fix. On second thought, maybe you should move very far away from me.


I... must... listen... again...

Mamma Mia!

Amber, Missy, Heather, Ginger and I went to see Mamma Mia. It was way past bedtime. We had left behind all responsibilities. And we were watching a fun movie in a theater that was practically empty. (My apologies to the 3 other women in the theater. I know we were obnoxious. Thank you for not calling security on us.)

Downside first... it's a musical. With actors who cannot sing all that well. With a very strange plot. And with lots of Abba songs.

Upside... it's a musical. (Very fun to make fun of) With actors who cannot sing all that well. (also very fun to make fun of) With a strange plot. And Abba songs that beg to be sung along to. Colin Firth was in this movie... big plus. And I saw it with funny friends.

Ginger makes me laugh. She's so dry. And so delightfully sarcastic. And she laughs easily about very stale Butterfinger candies.
Missy has great comments that throw us all into fits of laughter and send us on glorious tangents.
Heather hates musicals. And she is also sarcastic... need I say more?
Amber laughs with abandon. Which gives everyone else the go ahead to act like idiots.

We left with tears on our cheeks and aches in our heads. We acted like 12 year old girls, no offense to 12 year old girls. I needed it so much. I needed the silliness, the abandon, the camaraderie, the friendship. I am thankful.

I took a 2 hour nap today. That never happens. And I've laughed out loud again at the memories made last night. It is good to not have to be the Mommy for a while.

Stupid Stupid Stupid

I hate when I cannot seem to do anything right. Tonight I flipped a cooked pizza into the bottom of my freshly cleaned oven. I threw things across the kitchen and screamed. As you can figure out, I was very frustrated and angry with myself. I hate when I screw up.



I hate when I say stupid things. I hate when I procrastinate. I hate when I just completely forget things. I hate when I make things harder for myself. I hate that I worry about things that I have absolutely no control over. I hate that I'm sitting here complaining like a baby.

Football and the Mortification of the Flesh

For those of you who love competitive sports go ahead and do something else. I am absolutely sure that you will not be able to identify with this post....

Ty started football last night. He walked onto the field knowing not one person. But he didn't care, he was there to play football. He listened hard, worked hard and showed his stuff. He ran fast, faster than anyone else almost. He made one friend, but he doesn't know his name. He had fun.

I can't understand it. Standing around waiting to be evaluated. Not knowing anyone. Afraid of making a mistake. I'm sick just thinking of it. Ginger's with me... right, friend? Yuck.

Some people like competing. Some don't. That's just the way it is. I finally left the ball park. Strangely, I'm not afraid of him getting hurt. He probably will, it'll heal. It's the competition. Or rather, the fear of failure...

Hmmm. Fear of rejection. Fear of failure. Maybe that's the root of my nervousness about the Springville Church. My pride is a living, breathing monster. Hiding in the shadows of my existence, whispering in my ear, breathing down my neck. Much of the time, I'm not even aware of it's presence.

All that I can do is repent and let God banish my pride. Repentance and faith are my only weapons. And they are hard to wield against my self. I want to pretend it's not there. I want to justify it's existence. I want to save myself. But I must put it to death. I must mortify it. I must stand in my freedom and not back down.

That is where my boldness comes from... not my skill at making friends or my compulsion to talk to everyone. Boldness comes from the gospel. Boldness comes from not trying to accomplish things on my own. Not taking ownership of God's work. Knowing that in Christ there is no rejection, failure and condemnation.

Why can't I remember that?

Catch Up

Kim and Amber pointed out that they can tell when I get busy. Blogging is the first thing to go. But it's not just writing blogs, it's reading blogs also. I haven't read much lately. That's just the way it is.

New things going on in my life:

1. Gardening. I've learned a lot about how to weed, how to keep pests away but now I'm trying to figure out how to know when things are ready to be picked... hmmm.

2. Composting. A little complicated to begin with but not so hard once you have a system. And it doesn't stink... unless you put Ramen noodles in there. Note to self.

3. Recycling. Like composting, it's hard to get started but not very hard to maintain. We've gone from 3 large black garbages a week to 1 small white bag a week. Recycling for me is really just a form of protest against the evil that is Veolia. I hate them. Tired of dealing with them. Done.

4. Maggie and Gracie having seperate rooms. Lovely. Really cuts down on the fighting. And we've gotten rid of ridiculous amounts of crappy junk. Very tidy right now.

5. Canning. Today Kim, Amber and I put up 6 recipes of blueberry jam. That means about 30 jars. Lots 'o jam. "And it's so tasty too." (that's a Lucy quote, btw. Think vitameatavegamin.)

6. Football. Ty starts football practice in a week. Goodbye previous life. Hello ballfield. Anita pointed out that I've gotten away with it for a long time. Oh well.

7. Springville Church. We start our meetings the first Sunday of August. I'm a little conflicted.

8. Goats. We're thinking of buying a goat or two. We have a kudzu problem that we're looking to get rid of. Goats are one way of doing it. And they're not expensive.

That's all I can think of right now. I have spiritual struggles and new things that I'm learning but that's a blog for another day. Tootles.

Napkin Usage

What does a person's napkin say about them? I have no idea really but it's fun to pretend like I do.


The Twister - the napkin holder is unsure of themselves, nervous and afraid of saying something wrong or embarrassing. The Twister will hold the napkin until the last possible moment, refusing to give it up, as it provides much needed security.

The Wadder - this napkin holder is too consumed with their thoughts to give any consideration to the state of their napkin. The Wadder is highly engaged in interesting and challenging conversation, eating only while someone else has the floor.

The Multi-Folder - the Multi-Folder is a deeply thoughtful person who, though having much to contribute, rarely enters into the conversation, feeling that they are out of their element. They use their napkin to arrange and order their thoughts, possibly even to gather their courage to speak. The Folder likes order and control.

The Shredder - the shredder is an exaggeration of the Twister. The Shredder is sometimes accused of having a guilty conscience or of being OC. The Shredder is deeply fearful in social situations. Shredding is sometimes accompanied by tearful whimpering.

The Ignorer - the most hated of all, this non-napkin user tends to smack and wipe their mouth on their shirt or the tablecloth. The Ignorer also tends to interrupt conversations and talks with food in their mouth. Most children fall into this category.

The Single Folder - the most balanced of all napkin users, the Folder, while using their napkin appropriately, also engages in conversation, free from social awkwardness or controlling tendencies. The most enjoyable person at the table to sit beside.

I hope you've enjoyed this purely fanciful waste of time. I know I did.

A big THANK YOU to my favorite blog stalker for telling me about Jack Johnson. I like. I added some songs to my playlist!

I'm A Great Cook

Right now I have 4 boys at my house. The girls are spending the night away. I have Ty, Brody, Griff and Michael. My house is sooooo quiet. So quiet. I'm lovin' it.

They are going on and on about how good supper is, what a good cook I am and how well I can cook in general. Ahhh... affirmation. I feel bad for you poor, sad people who cannot be like me.

And just in case you want to be a super-duper good cook like me, I'll give you the recipe that is, even now, getting rave reviews. It's a little complicated. Some of you may not be capable of greatness like I am. Don't be discouraged. I'm sure you have other strengths.

Here it is:
3 cups cooked rice
2 cans chili
1 can corn, undrained
Heat it up.

Man, I'm exhausted.

Why?

Why did I leave a rotisserie chicken in the car overnight?
Why do people have to move away?
Why does my head hurt?
Why does a simple knee surgery bring so much pain?

Ahhh, the whys of life. The 'what is going on?' And even the 'how is this good?' I ask the questions. I even hope for answers.

I would like to quote my friend Betty Smartt Carter from her book Home is Always the Place You Just Left
"Actually, "Why?" may be the most devout question any human being can ask, because of what it implies about God.... if I ask, "Why is the universe here?" or even "Why do I get canker sores after eating strawberries?" I show that I hope for order in this mess. I want to know whether God tramps through nothingness for a reason, and whether all this junk, this frenzied mud I wade through from one second to the next, is maybe a trail that leads somewhere. To ask why shows that I have expectations, and expectations are the beginning of faith -however small, however many times crushed and reborn."

I love that quote. It explains so much to me. Even if I never find out the answer, it's good to ask the question.

After my mother died, I had people (that I did not know) tell me that I shouldn't ask God why, I should just trust Him. Sounds good on the surface maybe. But what does it say about God? It says to me that He might get angry or annoyed at being questioned. Which means that He's insecure and uncaring. Which means that He is not God. God wants to be known by us. He wants us to seek Him out. And He's big enough to handle the tough questions... He can take it. He knows if we're angry with Him... so is it better to ignore and avoid Him or verbalize what we're already feeling?

I've asked God "Why?" many times. Sometimes in anger. Sometimes in confusion. Sometimes in wonder. But every time, He has answered me with Himself. I still don't know the answers to many of the questions but I know God more. And that has always been enough.

Busy Week

Let me see... what have I done this week? Camped at the lake for 2 nights, worked in the yard and the garden, washed 5,ooo loads of laundry, spent the day in Jasper helping my Granny, spent the 4th at American Village and cleaned my house. Not bad, all in all.

Camping was fun and relaxing. We slept well - not too hot, not too cold. We ate well - hot dogs and roasted marshmallows. We played well - swimming, football, reading. Ahhh. Nice. And no sunburns. Hurrah! Of course, I had to wash pillowcases, sleeping bags, blankets and clothes when we got home. Ugh.

The practice garden, as we affectionately call it, is looking pretty good. No more bug problems, not many weeds, no animals eating anything. Of course, we've only gotten 2 tomatoes and 2 cucumbers out of it. *sigh* That's why it's a practice garden. We have no idea what we're doing.

Jasper was fun but exhausting. There was much work to be done. We got most of it finished but not all. The old barn is gone... well, bulldozed but not gone. It has to be cleaned up and hauled to the dump. Can you say, "Musty, mildewy, rotten, snakey, waspish mess?" In addition to that we helped Dad with his papers... Any type of mail or paperwork is my Dad's kryptonite. He is helpless against the onslaught. Bless his heart.

Yesterday, the kids and I drove down to Montevallo and spent the day at American Village. Holy cow, that was great! We watched a sword swallower/flame eater. Amazing and terribly disgusting. I was nauseous for an hour. Gag. We went to some other things, ate some good food and cotton candy and then settled down on the Green to watch some fireworks. There are no words that I could possibly speak that would explain just how awesome the fireworks were. Seriously. Amazing. We were hoarse when it was over, we screamed and cheered that much. All other fireworks displays pale in comparison. That, all by itself, was worth the hour long drive down. I wish you all could have seen it. There were rockets I'd never seen before. Sparkling waterfalls that lingered for 20 seconds or more. Enormous blooms that made us fall backwards on the blanket, they were that close. I'll stop now. You should've been there.

So today, I clean my house and rest up for Camp Cornerstone next week. See you then.

Granny's Office

I find it slightly disturbing that my grandmother has a home office set up in her bathroom around her toilet. Within easy reach is a telephone, a wall calendar, a clock, a dictionary, a concordance and a Bible. There are various and sundry magazines, a book of home remedies and an oscillating fan. Hmmm. How much time is really spent in there? Do her feet not go to sleep? How many times have I called her when she was in her "office"? What does she really get done in there, besides the obvious? It disturbing really. And that's all I have to say about that.

Whining and Ungratefulness

Is there a connection? I think there must be.

Today, Chris and I decided to go camping with the kids. But in order to do that there are things around the house that need to be done. The grass needs to be cut, the house cleaned, laundry finished, etc. The kids don't really whine anymore about their daily chores. (Thanks for the chore chart idea, Jenny.) But if you tell them to do something else, like... picking up their own stupid toys out of the yard, well apparently that's just unreasonable. They were created to play, right? To be served hand and foot by their maid, oops, Mother, right? Grrrrr.

At the start of things, they flopped and slumped and whined and dragged their feet. My gracious response? "Waaa-waaa-waaa. Boohoo. Hate it for ya. You are part of this family. Good, bad and difficult. What is our motto?"

*eye rolls* "Do the right thing at the right time whether you want to or not." *sigh*

Suppressing the urge to strangle my offspring, I respond with "Obedience with a bad attitude is the same as disobedience."

They got my meaning... if they follow the letter of the law and do their chores with these attitudes, we won't go anywhere. I don't care how clean the house is. Ingrates.

And then somewhere along the way I begin to think about my own heart. Dang. Self-righteousness has a definite appeal to it. I don't whine out loud that much anymore but my heart flops and slumps and drags, fighting the will of God. I'm not grateful for more work. I'm much more inclined to sit on my rump. Does this mean that I'm ungrateful for the blessings of God? That I don't want to serve Him but be served by Him? I think the answer has to be "Yes."

So where does that leave me? My children are sinners just like their momma. Yuck.

First Catechism:
Q. 42: Who can change a sinner's heart?
A. The Holy Spirit alone.

Q. 63: How can you get the help of the Holy Spirit?
A. God has told us to pray for the Holy Spirit's help.

What am I teaching my children? Am I teaching them the power of the gospel? Or am I teaching them to try harder-do better? Hmmm. What do I depend on: the gospel or myself? Who do I serve: myself or Christ?

I added some songs to my playlist. They're down at the bottom. B52s, Stray Cats, etc. The kids love dancing to it. I do too. Fun times. Hope you enjoy it too. I put it at the bottom because they're not songs that I want to listen to every day. But they are fun. I dare you to give it a listen and not dance or at least tap your toes.

I am very sunburned on my legs. And a little on my face. I don't like it.

The Trip

I enjoyed the trip immensely. I think that I really needed to go. I saw God work in our kids. There was very minimal conflict, just your ordinary stuff. There were, of course, your different groups but they mixed pretty well. Brian's teaching was convicting and thought provoking. All in all, I was challenged, entertained (Palmer and Jordan were there, after all), affirmed, convicted and allowed by the Father to deepen relationships with the kids. I am thankful.

Things I want from you:
1. Please pray for our youth. Pray that they would realize that God is real, not a concept. Pray that God would give them a deepening love for Him and that they would grow in the knowledge of Him.
2. Tell the kids individually that you're praying for them. They need to hear it.
3. Don't expect the worst from them. Expect God to grow them. Expect maturity from them.

Now, I know that many non-youth people read my blog but I must exclude you for just a moment. I'd like to take a minute to pay tribute to 'my girls'.

Here is a list of memories from our trip:
1. pineapple pie
2. Pumpkin!
3. peanut butter shrimp
4. the would-be Go Go dancer at the bookstore
5. Johnny Depp *sigh*
6. Hispanic stalkers
7. short shorts
8. George
9. Nilla wafers at the pool
10. chips out the van window
11. Cobi
12. The Bourne tactics
13. chip pushers
14. country music
15. Kurt Cobane's notebook
16. pictionary at midnight
17. One-eyed Abby
18. Old Greg
19. "Aww, doo-doo! I stepped raght in that wawter!"
20. Muenster cheese
21. Evan's shirt
22. "It's crackin'! I can hear it!"

This trip was awesome. I laughed soooo hard! Thank you girls for letting me be a part of it.

A brief memory of each person... Palmer with a bag on his head. Jordan wearing a cape. Heath outside late at night "getting his stuff". Justin on the bungee swing. Evan and his friend "Ryon with an O". Jeremy and his seaweed tricks. Ben's enormous splashes. Caleb's socks and flip-flops. George's need for Tylenol. Cobi and Rock Paper Scissors. Andrew and the giant crab. Blakely/Brinkley/Betty Sue. Katrina playing with Witt. Haley's awesome pictionary skills. Shareen stealing my sunglasses. Abby stealing my pillow. Becky's drawing of Stokes. Ashley's straight hair. Hannah Grace and the bookstore. Kayla's cool t-shirt. Emma's need for sleep. Stokes' uncontrollable laughter. Steven's funny responses on the walkie talkie. Boo's grocery list skills.

Now I must get off the computer and finish unpacking everyone from this trip and start packing for Mississippi. See you soon.

P.S. After yet another attempt to stay awake for Raider's of the Lost Ark, I must admit I was unsuccessful. I slept through it again.

Seaside, Books and the Search For Truth

"She walked through the bookstore in search of truth. She was cold. She was wet from the rain. She needed to use the bathroom. But all these things paled in comparison to her desperate search for truth. She couldn't shake the feeling that one of these books, one of these colorful, rich, tantalizing books, would change her life. If only she could find it."

I know the feeling. I took the girls to Seaside today. We ate ice cream and shopped and ended up in a book/music store. I walked through, as I usually do, wondering which books are the "good" books. I start out any trip to the bookstore with excitement, which fades to wonder, which fades to bewilderment. And then I rarely buy anything for fear of spending money on something I hate. Oh well. I realized today that, as much as I love to read, I always wait for someone to hand me a book or recommend one before I try it. I find that curious. Now I will think on that for a bit...

The beach is great. The trip has been wonderful. Thanks for praying for us. Please continue.

Thanks to George for the use of his laptop. I needed a blogging break.

Things I've Learned The Hard Way

1. Avoid giving your kids red Kool-aid when there's a stomach bug going around.
2. Always make a list.
3. Never force an otherwise good eater to eat a supper of chili. You might wake up at midnight with chili-vomit in your hair.
4. Always look where you are going.
5. If black diamond ski slopes scare you, don't attempt them.
6. Chose your orthopaedic surgeon wisely.
7. Always say "I love you" to the people you love before you part.
8. Never assume that an electric fence is off.
9. Never guess about how much money is in your checking account. (this leads to #9b- sign up for overdraft protection)
10. Finish everything that needs to be finished before you move into your new house, otherwise it will never get done.
11. Be very specific when dealing with children.
12. Speak up in crisis situations. If you want an autopsy done on your mother, insist. You'll never get another chance to find out what really happened.
13. Don't avoid conflict too much. It only gets worse.
14. Periodically check on the activities of your children. You just never know.
15. Don't be afraid to call Poison Control. They are very nice and helpful.
16. Study theology. Know who God is.
17. Don't ignore certain passages of Scripture. It's all important.
18. Respect your husband.
19. Floss every day.
20. Choose a dentist with flexible payment plans.
21. Pay your water bill.
22. Know how to change a tire.
23. Learn some PR skills.
24. The Post Office does not make mistakes. Or so they say.
25. Know yourself. Learn what you like. Or don't like. Stand firm in who God made you to be.
26. Don't waste your life trying to please everybody.
27. Add 10% to any building budget.
28. Keep up with warranty information.
29. Don't allow your kids to eat or drink in your vehicle. You will regret it. (think spills, stains and vomit)
30. Don't be afraid of the plan of God.

Well, I suppose I should update. It's been a while. I was surprised to see how long it's been since I've blogged last. I guess I've been pretty busy.

I'm trying to get the school room taken apart. Maggie's getting her own room... finally. We've outgrown our school room. We haven't used it for anything other than storage this year. The living room has worked just fine. So, Chris built me a great big built-in bookshelf in the living room. It has cabinets on the bottom and shelves up top. All of my school stuff fits perfectly. And it's gorgeous. I'm so so pleased. You should come see. So now I just have to finish emptying the school room, clean all the writing/marks off the walls, putty the holes, prime, and paint. Simple...

I leave in the morning to go on the Sr. High Beach trip. We come back Monday afternoon. Then we leave Tuesday to go to Mississippi. I really have a lot to be doing right now.

I went over to Kara's yesterday. Several of us got together to watch Jane Eyre. (which is my favorite book and now my favorite movie) The movie is all that I desperately wanted for my birthday. It's almost 4 hours long but worth it. There's something really wonderful about watching a great movie with your friends. We laughed together. We cried. We cheered when they finally kissed. The comments were funny. Emma and I had a great time since we'd both read the book recently. We had our own little short-hand.
"Is this the..."
"No that's later."
"After the..."
"Yeah."
What a great time! I felt such a lovely feeling of belonging. Everyone loved the movie, which affirmed me... not sure why that is.

Well, I'm gonna go. If I think Of anything else to blog about (meaning, if I feel inspired) I'll blog again before I leave. Otherwise, see ya later.

My Day

Guess what? Still clean. I know. Amazing. No dirty clothes or dirty dishes. Clean living room. I'm enjoying it too. Not taking it for granted.

Today I worked in the garden and cut the grass. For supper we ate grilled chicken, grilled corn and mac and cheese. My tummy's full and my body's tired. And a little smelly. Right now, all I want is a bath, a cup of coffee and good book.

But first the kids and I are going to read about Joan of Arc, our person of the week. Turns out, she's not Noah's wife at all. She was French. She was a teenager. And since 1920, she 's a saint. Hmmm. Cool.

Satisfied Sighs

I look around my almost too clean house with a satisfied sigh. About hour #4 my kids began to understand the brevity of what they'd done by waking Chris and they quit complaining. They worked, bless their hearts. For 7 hours. My house is amazing. Sparkling clean. Just don't go to my room. That didn't get touched. Ugh.

At one point early on, one of them collapsed on the floor, too tired to go on. My question was "I'm sorry, did you just run up three flights of stairs to get to a code? Have you done chest compressions for an hour without a break? No? Then get up and quit whining. You're still not working as hard as Daddy." She.. oops.. the anonymous child got up and with minimal complaints got back to work. Chris felt that I was a bit harsh since he didn't do either of those things last night either. But he could have. That, my friend, is the point. Respect your Daddy child.

But as I look around, I know in the back of my mind that it won't always look this way. I think it was this that my mother pursued until her death: a quick fix to becoming someone that she was not. I am never going to wake up one morning and suddenly think in an organized fashion. I'll likely never get to a point where I even see all of the clutter that other people see. Everyone has certain flaws that stick with them all their lives. Everyone. This is mine. I am not naturally organized. I tend toward messiness. It's one of my most battled flaws.

And that's not so bad really. Because in these flaws I experience grace. These very flaws remind me that I'm broken, not all put together, imperfect. Brokenness points me to what I long for... perfection. I want a righteousness of my own. I want to do it myself. But every time I look at my dusty ceiling fan or cluttered desk my self-righteousness is cut to the quick. And sometimes that feels like worthlessness or depression when really it is God cutting out the heart of an idol.

I will never be organized or a neat freak. This shows me that I will never be able to build a righteousness of my own. The only righteousness I can claim is Christ's. And when I claim that righteousness, my heart is comforted. I am relieved of a burden that is not even mine to carry. I still strive for cleanliness but with the knowledge that I'll never do it perfectly. I still walk out my salvation knowing that God's pleasure in me has nothing to do with my closets. And I sigh again with satisfaction. Hmmm. Enjoying this moment of shalom.

Punishment

My kids are under severe punishment today. They woke their Daddy up yesterday... By their screaming and fighting. So today, I woke them up with screaming and they're working for 8 hours. They get one 15 minute break and a 30 minute lunch. The rest of the time they're working. So far, my oven's been scrubbed, my floors swept, laundry folded and put away, bathroom scrubbed, bathroom closets organized, couch moved and cleaned under, and school shelf cleaned. And that's just 2 hours of work. Gracie asked, "What if we finish it all before 8 hours?" I couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, I'll find something for you to do."

My goal is for them to be able to empathize with their Daddy. They will work. A lot. And I will try not to enjoy it.


P.S. Gracie's foot gave us a scare. It got redder and developed a raised hard place. It was a little concerning. But now it seems to be fading. I'm very relieved. Thanks for your prayers.

Things On My Mind

Well, yesterday Gracie was bitten by a brown recluse spider. We were able to catch it, so now it's submerged in rubbing alcohol in a jar. I called Poison Control. They called me back 3 times over the course of the day. So far, Gracie has a bruise and a tiny bit of redness. It seems that she'll be fine with no big problems. I'd love for you to pray about that anyway though. Thanks.

The butcher called to let me know that our side of beef will be ready for pickup at the end of the week. I'm super glad. Organic meat just tastes better. Less fat, yada yada yada. The only problem with this is that our deep freezer died. Now obviously, I cannot keep 200 pounds of beef in my little freezer. So today we went to Lowe's and bought one. I like it very much.
If any of you are considering the purchase of a deep freeze, do your homework. We bought a chest freezer for several reasons.
1. I don't need to be able to get to 70 pounds of ground beef. It can be piled up a bit.
2. Chest freezers don't get left open because the weight of the lid closes it.
3. Chest freezers hold more.
4. Chest freezers are more energy efficient. Hot air rises, so when you open the lid, cold air doesn't escape.
5. Chest freezers are cheaper.
So for our purposes, a chest freezer is better. Now, my sister is a firm believer in upright freezers. To each his own.

I teased KimHill last week that they had way more stuff than we do. I said that because to admit any differently was nauseating. Now I'm home and the magnitude of that lie is staring me in the face. So this week, I shall purge my house. Lots of purging. My home is temporarily bulimic. The closets, cabinets, baskets, corners, attic, books, etc. are being gone through. Chris is all for it. I took a moment to make sure that he understood that this means that our house will look horrible for this week. It will look much worse before it looks better. Maybe I'll do some before and after pictures. Then again, maybe not. It might be too embarrassing.

My garden looks good. I need to weed it again. But the corn is almost big enough to thin out. I can't wait. I'm gonna can and freeze and probably hate it by the time I'm done.

This summer Chris, the kids and I are going to study different people. Joan of Arc (Noah's wife, right Burt?), Albert Einstein, Hudson Taylor, Eric Lidel, Sitting Bull, and some others. Person of the Week. And maybe a Place of the Week based on the person. Sounds fun, huh?

Well that's pretty much what's on my mind. I think I blogged to avoid the purging. *sigh* I'm lazy already.

Check out my Slide Show!

I'm home. And so very sad. I had to leave my friends in Mississippi. It's where God wants them to be. I feel as I write this that some may think that I say these things lightly but that's not the case. I feel it to the very core of my being.

Kim and Quinn's home is great. Big. A completely ridiculous amount of storage space. Perfect. And temporarily outdated. When Kim's done that house won't know what hit it.

Things we accomplished this week:
Turned on the water
Unloaded the truck
Cleaned
Set up furniture
Unloaded all but one box (we don't count Quinn's boxes of books)
Repaired the hot water heater
Replaced outlets
Replaced thermostats
Hooked up the ice maker
Stripped wallpaper in kitchen and dining
Painted kitchen and dining
Caulked
Fixed toilet
Fixed shower
Replaced locks and deadbolts
Stripped more wallpaper
Replaced knobs on entertainment center
Repaired china cabinet
Spackled
Repaired rocker
Organized closets and drawers
Put in shower organizers
Stripped more wallpaper
Set up Quinn's office
Built bookshelves
Filled a box with stuff that needed to come back to Moody
Repaired armoire
Bought a gorgeous table
Went to the Mexican restaurant
Went to see Prince Caspian
Laughed
Stayed up late
Did without hot water
Stripped wallpaper
Said good-bye

Random thoughts:

I'm sure Kim will blog about the tragedy of lack of thrift stores. It's quite pitiful.
Bren took lots of pictures. I'll see about posting them.
Felix is unlikable at 6:00 am.
We ate watermelon everyday.
Children can live happy lives without television.
Soft water makes bathing difficult.
Wallpaper makes me angry.
KimHill makes me laugh. Especially late at night.
Bren's Indian name is "Strapping Young Lad Who Moves Things"
Ty works like a man.
I am exhausted. I've been up for 18 hours.

Good night.

Too Much of a Good Thing

My kids bicker sometimes but for the most part they play really well together. They're friends. They love being together. They have their moments of nastiness, but don't we all?

Tonight has been an ecstatic, fun night. They're laughing, wrestling, having sock wars, chasing, tickling, and generally being goofy. Do I have a problem with this? Yep. They're having so much fun that they won't do anything else. They don't even hear me when I talk. They're not folding their clothes or putting up their toys or eating their supper. They're having fun. They're not open to anything else. I am seriously annoyed. I hate being disrespected by being ignored.

About the time I'm ready for a meltdown, or what my mother called a 'hissy fit', I have a spiritual epiphany. I do the same thing to God. When I'm happy-happy-happy, having fun, lovin' life, I ignore him. I don't seek him or hear his voice. I seek my own pleasure and hear my own desires calling to me raucously, like a hyperactive sister who's throwing socks at my face.

Nothing wrong with fun. Not a thing. But first things first. Why am I here? What am I supposed to be about? What am I seeking pleasure and satisfaction from? When is comfort really sin? Do I really believe that God deserves my all? Do I really believe that all is found in God?

It took discipline to get their attention. What does it take to get mine?

David Letterman - Russel Brand May-15-2008 -- {High Quality}

I saw this bit on t.v. last night and laughed out loud several times. Just wanted to share.

A Random List of Things I Don't Do

1. Switch out loads of laundry in a timely fashion. Soured clothing... ugh.





2. Smell underwear that's on the floor. If it happens to be clean, it can just be washed again. Cause I ain't smellin' it.





3. Ask my husband how he likes my outfit. He has very different tastes than I do. I will only get hurt.





4. Play practical jokes. I can think them up all day long, I just can't keep a straight face to pull them off.



5. Think that my sister looks like my twin.



6. Organize my utensil drawer.



7. Touch bugs. I'll kill snakes but I cannot touch a bug bare-handed.



8. Play an instrument. I took piano for 3 years and can't even read music. Pathetic.



9. Leave someone's house when I should. I think I always overstay my welcome.



10. Go to bed early. I cannot fall asleep before 9:00. I just can't.



11. Get up early. As in, before 7:30 am. See #10.



12. Deal well with change. I like for things to stay just as they are. No change-y.



13. Clean my kitchen up after every meal. Scott thought of this one. Apparently this bothers him. I sorta don't care.



14. Own real jewelry. I will absolutely, positively lose it. And then I'll hate myself forever.



15. Enjoy the ballpark. I despise the lack of seating, the smells, the bugs, the less than professional athletic abilities, the heat and/or the cold, the lack of shade, the sometimes bad attitudes. I don't like it. I do it but I don't have to like it.



16. Let Chris handle the finances. He might commit suicide.



17. Bake.



18. Play video games. It's not possible for me to care less about video games. Not possible.

19. Go fishing, hunting or similar activities. I will however go camping, provided that there's electricity, water and a bath house within a minutes walk or a 30 second jog, whichever the case may be.

20. Argue with my children. Because... they are children.

I guess that's all. I could think of more but I'm done.

Redemption

Redemption... I'm learning a lot about redemption. If you'd asked me a year ago what it meant I would have answered, "It's when Christ paid the cost for my sins." Which is very, very true. But incomplete.

There is another aspect of redemption that has to do with making all things right. Making all things new. A "this too shall be made right" kind of deal. Sanctification.

I see it displayed on our property. We have a hillside that was completely grown up. Thorn bushes, privet, sweet gums, honeysuckle and a single vine of the dreaded kudzu. We worked for days cleaning and clearing. Cutting and mowing. Even burning. Now the hill is cleared but rocky and rutted. We still need to smooth it and sow grass seed.

What did we do to that hillside? In a very real sense we redeemed it. Now we will maintain it or sustain it. The hill was in the grip of the Fall. We are making it beautiful. Or trying to anyway.

I have experienced the "already" of grace but everyday I feel the painful "not yet" of ongoing sanctification. I am redeemed but God is still making me 'right'. He is still weeding, mowing, burning, clearing. It's painful and frustrating for me the hillside. But He is making all things right. He is making me new. He is redeeming me. And He will not fail or grow weary or give me up as too much trouble. He is able.

I'm so self-absorbed. I was so depressed today about Kim moving that I FORGOT her birthday. What the heck is wrong with me? Oh, wait, again with the self-absorption.

Happy Birthday to my other sister, also named Kim. You know I love you. And if anyone on the planet can empathize with self-absorption.....

I feel like a dog.

Idea

Someone needs to invent a book holster. That way when I'm in the middle of a particularly engaging plot, I can holster it. And whenever I have a moment to spare, reach down, draw it out and read. I wouldn't have to remember to take it places. And when one of those rare moments comes, like in the drive-up window at the bank, voila... book on the hip, ready for reading. Wouldn't that be great?

Inside My Head

My head is packed and swirling. Like a stream overflowing it's banks. I can't even pull a few thoughts out of the flood to expound upon. Too slippery.

I had a great birthday.
I have to clean out my schoolroom.
I need to plant my garden.
How do I pray for Amber?
Who can I get to teach Jr. High girls?
When is Chris geting home?
Do we have enough milk?
How do I not grow weary in doing good?
What curriculum will I use next year?
Where do I even start in organizing my house?
I miss my mother.
I miss the Hill's already.
I wonder if I'll have time to read today.
The Women's Event took more out of me than I'd realized.


Those are the few that I could grab ahold of. Maybe I'll elaborate later.

I feel better. Thanks for the prayers and encouragement. Chris gave me the gospel pep talk and now I'm good.

Focus

Today as Gracie was doing her reading, Chris turned on the television to watch as he folded clothes. Whereas Gracie had been reading like a champ before, now she was struggling. Had the words gotten harder? Nope. Was the sun in her eyes? Nu-uh.

Focus. It's all about focus. Where was she looking? It's pretty hard to read the words of a book when you're looking at the television. I had to keep doing things to get her attention back. Tap the book. Poke her leg. Call her name.

What does God do with me? I'm just like Gracie. I'm clicking right along, doing whatever it is I'm doing, earnestly seeking to glorify God... and *poke* Oh, yeah... what was I doing again? I look around in surprise. All the stuff is getting done, but where is my joy? Where is my motivation? Where is my focus?

I find myself in this position right now. The WIC event is Saturday. I look around and realize that I'm forcing things. Trying to get things done. Trying to make it all work. How did God point out that I'm not focused on Him? I look around and see the lack of joy and motivation in the people I'm with. And then I realize that they are feeding off of me.

What was our original purpose for this event? To glorify God by providing a safe environment for unbelieving women to come and hear the gospel. How do we do this? The seminars are for the purpose of having fun, learning new things and showing that all things are sacred. God is not separate from us. The luncheon is free so that we can give something lovely to the women to show them that we love them. There is childcare so that no woman is excluded. Every aspect of the event is built around the mission of showing the love of Christ to the women who come.

But instead, I caught myself turning it into tasks. "Martha, Martha." I rob the women I'm around of joy. I distract them from the passion of knowing Christ and showing his love to others.

I'm tired. Disappointed. Frustrated with my sin. I know that this event is in God's hands. I know that he's providing for the details. I pray for the handful of women that I know are coming that desperately need Christ. I pray that God's name will be glorified. I also pray that it won't be in spite of me.

Here's the invite for the Spring Event. Super fun, no joke. I hope that every woman reading this knows that she is welcome and wanted. We'll spend time in worship, time in seminars, time in fellowship (aka, eating) and time in learning.

I've seen God use this event in many ways. If you are a member of CPC, then this event gives you a golden opportunity to minister to others. It gives you an opportunity to serve, in one way or another.

Please come. And if you can't come, please pray for the women who will come. Pray that God's glory will be shown.

Most of you know that I love documentaries. They don't even have to be about something that I like. I don't like baseball but I'll sit through and enjoy a 6 hour Ken Burns Baseball film. I've found one that looks promising. And important.

I've posted a link at the top of my links list. Check it out.

Differing Views on Toilet Paper

This is a post that's been simmering in my mind for quite some time. I've noticed that people think very differently about toilet paper.

I have friends who hate buying it. They feel it's a waste of money. After all, all you do with it is wipe your rear. Thus, they buy the cheapest kind available. It offends their financial sensibilities to do any less. They also buy in bulk. And when I say bulk, I mean b-u-l-k. Like dozens of rolls at a time. And to have to buy more only causes annoyance that borders on anger.

But...

I also have friends who carry a roll with them when they go places. They will only use one brand... a very expensive brand. Thick, soft, 2 or 3 ply. And God forbid it leave any residue. They carry toilet paper camping, to hotels, on outings, to other peoples' homes when they spend the night. They are deeply committed to their toilet paper. They feel that toilet paper and what we do with it is what separates us from the animals (that and the whole opposable thumb thing).

While I...

Am somewhere in the middle. Yes, we just use toilet paper to wipe our rear ends, but at the same time, we use it to wipe our rear ends. That's pretty high up on the things that I think are important scale. I refuse to use leaves or the Sears catalogue. There's no way I'm using anything that has to be washed. And if I must wipe, I want to be clean and comfortable. Thus, Scott tissue offends me. What's the point of it? I might as well go grab a leaf for all the good it does. But I'm not gonna spend big bucks for something that I'm gonna flush. So that leaves me somewhere in the middle.

Middle price
Middle softness
Middle comfort-level

Well, those are my thoughts on the subject. Oh, I almost forgot...

Toilet paper commercials. I don't like them. I know that I use toilet paper, and I don't like thinking about it. I'd really, really rather not think about other people using it. Or whether they're clean enough or chafed or the most disgusting commercial ever... does your toilet paper leave 'fuzzies'? Ugh. Blech. *shudder* La.La.La. Not listening to you....

The Rest of the Trip, Finally!

Okay, rest of Day 2....



Brad and Mandi took us to eat at a place called Tijuana Flats. Oh my goodness gracious, that is some really, really good food. Tex Mex heaven. The kids ate so much they were sick for half the night. We ended up eating there the next night too.



After Tijuana Flats, they took us to Krispy Kreme. Can the night get any better? I think not.



I let each child pick a movie they wanted to watch with me. Maggie picked Phantom of the Opera, which we watched Tuesday night. Ty picked Return of the King, which we watched Wednesday night. I hate to say it, especially in front of KimHill, but not impressed with Phantom. It was too long. And I must say, get to the point already. Kim insists that I have to watch it again... with her. But I fear that if I still don't like it, she'll chain me to a chair and make me watch it 'til I like it. It scares me a little.



Wednesday morning, we got up early (9 am) and drove down to Hollywood. Hollywood is one of the most beautiful, fun places I've ever been. We had a marvelous time. Hollywood has a cool boardwalk. It's like beachfront road with no cars allowed. We rented cool recumbent bikes, ate pizza and enjoyed the view.



When we left Hollywood, we drove to Ft. Lauderdale to the theater and watched Horton Hears A Who. Great movie!!! We loved it.



Since it was Wednesday, Brad had to work. (He's a youth pastor) So, we surprised him at his church. It was fun to meet his kids. And to see him be a youth pastor. Most of his kids call him Pastor Brad. It makes me laugh every time.



Thursday, Brad took off work to spend the day with us. He drove us down to Miami, to the end (or is it the beginning?) of I-95. Strange. You're driving down the interstate, you go down a little rise and then, boom, you're in a neighborhood. It was crazy.

We drove down the strip at South Beach. Ty was especially grateful that we saw no naked people... I had warned them that it could happen. We cruised with the windows down, listening to the sounds. It was about 90 degrees that day. The sights and sounds of Miami were surreal. That place is huge. And the fashion lemmings are rampant. The girls tend to look the same: tall, tan, black clothes, tight hairbun, enormous sunglasses. Do they have any creative spark of their own? What would it take for them to feel the freedom to act on it?

After Miami, Brad took us... okay, Ty... to an exotic car lot. I'll post pictures later. There was a Rolls Royce there for the low, low price of 1/2 million dollars. I bought two.

Thursday was Brad and Mandi's 4th anniversary. Mandi had to work. Brad stopped at a florist shop and bought her flowers. So sweet. After, we walked to a small drainage canal and watched the wild iguanas. Yes, wild iguanas. There were almost 50 of them. I have video footage. I'll post that also. It was nuts.

Then it was time to head home. All good things must come to an end. And this trip was one of the most delightful times of my life. Maggie, Ty and I got to bond. I got to spend time with Brad, one of my most favorite people in the world. I got to know Mandi better and love her all the more for it. The weather spoiled me rotten. I've been discontent with Alabama weather ever since. I'm almost afraid to go back. It can't possibly be as wonderful the next time around. Right?

Don't hate me. I know that I've not blogged in a while. And totally left you hanging as far as the trip goes. I'll post pictures soon.

I got thrown back into life as soon as I got home. As a matter of fact, I've spent a grand total of one day at home since I got back. I'm tired and just a touch annoyed. I would love to have a few days at home where I could read or blog or relax. Maybe next week. So, when I can grab a few more minutes, I'll blog. Until then....

Day 1 and Half of Day2

Good times. Good times.

I'm having way too much fun. It's a sin I'm sure. The only dull spot in my life right now is not having Chris and the other 2 kids. If they were here, life would be perfect.

Yesterday Maggie, Ty and I arrived in Pompano. We unpacked and went to the beach, which by the way, is very different from the gulf. Very shell-y. And brown. We watched the surfers, looked at the weird little blue things on the sand, dug holes and rode waves. Later we found out that the little blue things were Portuguese Man O War. Some were quite large.... and we were quite terrified when we found out what they were. We'd been in the water for at least an hour. No stings or 911 calls though. Thank the Lord.

We stayed a little longer and then went to Brad and Mandi's pool. Super fun. We ate pizza rolls and chips and salsa for dinner and then watched a couple of movies. Finding Neverland and Garfield. Wonderfully relaxing.

Today we went to the spot where the house that my Dad grew up used to be. That was cool to me. I've heard stories all my life and now I've been to the same spot. Although it was a bit like Blast From The Past. Very run-down and scary. I'm sure it must be sad for my Dad to see.

We also went for an airboat ride in The Everglades. Holy cow! That was fun. We broke down right next to a 12 foot long alligator. It just floated there and watched us while we waited for parts for our boat. Cool, huh? Once we got on the way, we broke down again. This time we had to switch boats in the middle of The Everglades. Very scary. But what an adventure! And a much better story to tell.

Well, Brad's whining, wanting to got to bed and I'm on his 'puter that he needs to put away. I'll try to post more tomorrow.

Hello From Florida

Well, we made it. Right now, I am in KimHill's parent's living room. Kim took the kids for a walk so that I can pack and get ready to head on down to Pompano Beach. I don't think she'll mind that I took 2 minutes to blog.

Kim's parents' home is beautiful. Very open floor plan. Very comfy. A little humid.

Mags, Ty and I will be leaving in about 30 minutes. I can't wait. We're going to have a blast. I'll try to keep you posted.

Shave and a Haircut

I got a haircut today. I really like it. A guy named Jason, down at Janet's Barber Shop, cut it. He's really very good. Before he cut it, he straightened it. I've never seen my hair straight before. All 4 of my kids were standing around staring. Chris was chuckling. It was very strange. I looked like a completely different person.

It reminded me of a time when I was about 7 years old and watched my Dad shave his beard. It's the only time I remember him without a beard. I remember standing and watching, amazed. But I also remember not liking it at all. He didn't look like my Daddy. He grew it back immediately and has never shaved it again.

Isn't it strange how we grow accustomed to how people look, or even how people act, and it makes us uncomfortable for them to change? Or we just don't acknowledge that they have changed. People get stuck in a box, this is how they are... But no one stays the same. God is continually growing and changing us.

The place this the most evident is in my marriage. I can never get to the point where I know everything there is to know about my spouse. Because he is changing and growing. I am changing and growing. And we have to constantly be learning each other all over again.

I can't think of a time when complacency is a good thing.

Rally the Troups

Well, many of you have read Burt's blog and know a little about the plumbing issues at the church. What you may not know is how bad the situation really was. After working for four hours, Plumbing 911 had the gall to charge us $3100. After having to deal with this company, Scott finally told them to just leave. What they left was a mess. They left one pipe open.. so mud, dirt and rocks got in. This in turn clogged the line. This in turn caused the toilets and water fountains to not work. (this was the problem last Sunday) Now we have at least 3 toilets and 2 sinks that are broken.

What gripes me the most is how the owner handled the entire situation. He actually doesn't care. Burt got other estimates for the work Plumbing 911 did: the highest was $1000. When confronted with this, the owner actually verbalized that he did not care.

Why should this bother you?
1. It was our tithes that he stole.
2. If he'll do this to a church, what do you think he'll do to ordinary folks?
3. It was wrong.

What can you do about it?
Call Plumbing 911 at 699-2666. Let them know what you think. And then if you need a plumber, don't call Plumbing 911. Call someone who cares.

If you actually take the time to call, please leave me a comment.

The Truth About Chris Sharp

Lest you think that he's perfect...

Tonight after he ate his supper, I gave him the very last brownie. Deep sacrifice for me. We're listening to music, talking about existentialism, when he turns around and... you might want to sit down... throws the crusty part of the brownie in the garbage! The garbage! In a rather distressed tone I ask him, "What the heck are you doing? You don't throw a perfectly good chocolatey brownie in the trash!" He looked somewhat surprised and maybe a little scared and apologized, trying to justify himself on the basis of the brownie being a little hard around the edges. So?!? I mean, honestly, can this relationship survive when we are that different? "Hard around the edges".... phffff.

Friday Night Food and A Quote

Last night was, in my opinion, the best Friday night of the year. Very relaxed. No one was seeking entertainment. (I am not opposed to entertainment, but it is nice to just be sometimes.) It was very quiet, with lots of sharing. All five of us just ... communed. It was more than talk, it was more than that. I felt very connected. Very nourished. Very much a part of a whole.

I think that was why it felt very unreal when Brody fell and almost bit through his chin. Kim stayed at my house with the other kids while I took Brody to his Daddy at work. I love that, by the way. I love being able to take him to Chris. I walked in the ER, waited 10 minutes, Chris came in, looked at him and sent me home with instructions to glue it shut. (It wasn't in or too close to his mouth.) The wait in the ER would have been about three hours. I was there 15 minutes. I came home, cleaned it, glued it and was done. Today, you can barely tell.

But it was weird driving to the hospital on the heels of such a lovely evening. I can't describe it. It was just like it shouldn't have happened. And the way it happened, all calm and quiet and relaxed... strange. Brody cried but everything else seemed very calm.

I have no deep spiritual application. Other than that all things happen according to God's plan and calm is how it should be.

Subject change:

I have to be very careful about the things I pursue. One of the best ways of being careful is to think of my husband. Would it cause a hardship for him? Would it show him love? Would it honor him? Would it create hurt feelings? These are things that I ask myself because Chris is very generous and unselfish. He doesn't mind keeping the kids for me to go buy groceries by myself. He'll even keep other people's kids as well if I ask him. He serves me in a hundred ways. Sometimes it's as simple as getting my glasses out of the car for me. I could easily take advantage of him and hurt him.

*Sidenote:
I'll tell you men this: serving your wife is the most spiritual thing you can do for her. When he serves me, I feel loved and cherished and in return, I respect him even more. It produces in me a desire to do him good. It makes it easier to submit and follow him. It causes me to want to serve him.

I know that some of you don't know Chris. I say lots of nice things about him, I know. But I don't want you to think that he's easily manipulated or weak. Those of you who do know him know that he's very strong in character. If he feels the need to tell me 'no', he will and he won't back down. He even sent me to my room once. (I needed it.)

I asked him last night if I could go to Miami to visit my cousin for 5 days. I could tell it didn't make him happy but, as he saw no real reason why not, he said yes. He just wants me to be happy. He just loves me. It reminded me of Ephesians 5:25. "Husbands, go all out in your love for your wives, exactly as Christ did for the church—a love marked by giving, not getting. Christ's love makes the church whole. His words evoke her beauty. Everything he does and says is designed to bring the best out of her, dressing her in dazzling white silk, radiant with holiness. And that is how husbands ought to love their wives." - The Message

Chalk Drawings and Separation Anxiety

There is a scene from Mary Poppins that comes to my mind today. It is the scene in which the children and Mary Poppins come across Bert as he is doing chalk drawings on the sidewalk. They jump into their favorite scene: a country road that has fair over the hill. They ride a carousel and then the horses jump off. They ride the painted horses in a fox hunt and then a derby race. It's like a dream come true... and then the rain comes. And their beautiful day simply... washes away.

Sometimes, when I am not remembering the loving sovereignty of God, that's what my life feels like. I have lived a fairy tale life to a certain extent: been at the same church for half my life, am known by the family at this church, and have been surrounded by spiritual peers with whom I connect with on a deep level. And now it seems to be changing.

I can see the smudges of the chalk of this life beginning to run around the edges. I hear the rain in the distance. Things will change. And I must grab hold of the only hand that is in control. He will hold onto me, comfort me in my sadness and lead me into another adventure. He will surely do good and not evil. He will hold me up. I am reminded of Isaiah 41:10: "Don't panic. I'm with you. There's no need to fear for I'm your God. I'll give you strength. I'll help you. I'll hold you steady, keep a firm grip on you."

Sometimes my insides shake a little as the fear and panic claws at me. But what have I to fear? Will He let me down? Will this be the time that He withholds good things from me? Will I be led somewhere and dropped off? I cannot believe that is possible.

I think that the smudges I see are the washing away of my illusion of reality. The reality where I honestly believe that I can only be happy when I am safe. Or that I can find true fulfillment outside of my Creator/Groom/Father. He who knows me better than I know myself, who gave Himself for me, who fashioned me for Himself, how can I run to anything else?

I wish that I could grasp His love for me. Because I know that then I would never have a glimmer of fear. Like little Marly, a baby friend of mine, who honestly believes that she will expire if her Momma is not holding her. She wants to see her Momma, sleep in her Momma's arms, be held at all times. She has no fear... as long as she is in her mother's embrace.

I want to be like her. I want to be desperate for my Father's arms. I want to be constantly looking for his eyes. I want to trust Him that implicitly.

Notice my links? They are now alphabetized. It's just easier that way.

General Observations from Today

1. Never buy cereal that's been taped shut with Scotch tape. This rule applies to many other products as well.

2. Always look at 2 things before you sit down to use the bathroom in a house with children or men in it: the status of the toilet paper roll (70% chance that it's out) and the seat (60% chance of sprinkles)

3. Carefully check pictures of any vacation spot that calls itself a "resort". This word is used far too frequently nowadays. You could end up at a dude ranch in north Alabama.

4. Always seize the opportunity to stay up way too late talking to your best friend, especially if that best friend is your husband.

5. Cereal tastes really good when eaten late at night.

6. Children should never attempt a jump of more than 2 feet especially from a leather chair to a metal bed.

7. Starbucks tastes better when enjoyed with your friends.

8. Super glue works really well on gashes to the skull.

9. Never change routine abruptly on a high strung, dramatic child.

10. Tapestries costing $750 are not as heavy as you would think.

That's really all. Just thought I'd share.

A Couple of Thoughts on The Gospel

I cannot imagine my childhood without church. My mom took me to church when I was 5 days old. Therefore, I cannot remember the first time I went. My kids are the same way. Only they remember only Community. If I sit here for a minute, I might could count the number of churches that I went to growing up..... 6 or 7, I think.

We went to mostly Southern Baptist churches with a random charismatic one and a dabble into Assembly of God. Presbyterians might as well have been aliens for all I knew of them. I became a Presbyterian, of my own volition, at the age of 17. And I've been one ever since. So it's a little strange to think that all my kids have ever known is PCA. I'm glad... it's just so different from my own childhood. The same pastor married their parents (Chris and I, for those of you who just got confused) and baptized all 4 of them. I have no recollection of most of my pastors' names. Anyway...

As Burt was preaching this morning, a contrast suddenly came to mind: the difference in the definition of the gospel in my life from childhood to now.

As a child, "the gospel" seemed like a forced march. Obligatory, straightforward, dull and not a little forbidding. Very clear cut: Jesus-died-on-the-cross-to-save-me-from-my-sins-and-if-you-don't-ask-Him-to-be-your-savior-you'll-die-and-go-to-hell. *said all in one breath* Simple. Dry. A little nebulous. And not at all compelling. It's what you told people to 'get them saved'.

But today, I realized that my response was vastly different. It's been a long time since I felt that way about the gospel. In knowing that my sin is deeper than I can grasp, I can begin to see the incomprehensible enormity of God's love for me. In knowing that He delights in me, that His anger has been satisfied on the cross, I can find my satisfaction in Him. In knowing that the penalty of all my sins has been paid, I can revel in His grace to me. And in knowing that "He who did not spare His own Son, but gave him up for us all - how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?", I can cling to him for my sanctification.

The gospel means freedom. It is gentle, strong, deep, vast, powerful. It is the story of what Christ has done for us. He had no sin and therefore, deserved no punishment. Yet, he gave up his freedom and glory to take on the hideousness of my sin. He took the physical punishment and the agony of being separated from his Father. He exchanged my sin and guilt for his perfect righteousness. All because of his great love for me. Me, an imperfect, lying, arrogant, cheating sinner.

Before, it was a formula. Now the gospel is the only truth. And the truth will set you free. A freedom from the dictatorship of self.

Have you been to see Adam's band perform yet? Why not? I mean, do you really think that's a good reason?

I've seen them a couple of times and have had a ball. If you get the slightest chance to see Adam perform, take it. You won't be disappointed. I promise.

Act of Congress has been nominated for Birmingham's best country/bluegrass/americana band in Birmingham Weekly magazine. You can vote for them here: http://www.bhamweekly.com/article.php?article_id=00662

Here are some videos of the kids skiing.

Ode to Brandon

Here's to Brandon. Thanks to him, I now have a functioning keyboard. Hurrah!!! Three cheers for Brandon. Hip hip hurray! Hip hip hurray! Hip hip hurray! To all the three people who have been missing the more frequent posts, give Brandon a high five next time you see him.


I'll actually post something tomorrow. I'm exhausted right now.

Skiing

Well, we're home. It was a lovely trip.

We skied all day Tuesday. It was pretty icy at first but conditions improved over the course of the day. But by afternoon, we were starting to see bare spots on the slopes. But it was still very fun and ski-able. Brody, Gracie and Ellas went to ski school and by the end of the day were skiing pretty well. Gracie was able to get on and off the lift by herself, ski down the blue run without falling and stop with no problems. Brody was able to come down the green run with minimal face plants. He doesn't snow plow. Nope, he turns. I was amazed.

At the end of Tuesday, we were sure that there would be no more skiing. The bare patches were too big. So we spent the evening recounting the day, moment by moment, laughing and acting it out. Chris and I very deliberately tried to teach the kids to be thankful for what we got and not grumpy cause we couldn't have more.

Wednesday we woke up late, ate a leisurely breakfast and decided to head over to Grandfather Mountain. Then the coolest thing happened: it started to snow. We spent part of the afternoon in Boone and by the time we got back to Beech everything looked like a winter wonderland. We drove straight to the slopes to check it out. Chris and Scott went to see about conditions and came back nearly frozen. It was horribly foggy with really strong winds and lots of ice. Oh yeah, and it was about 10 degrees with a windchill of below zero. So Beech was out. Instead, we went to App. Ski Mountain. They have much shorter runs but a buttload of snow making equipment. Great coverage, cheaper, not too crowded and warmer. It was 19 degrees. But the wind was still strong.

We went night skiing and had a blast! The best thing about it was the fact that it was so unexpected. We had no plans to ski anymore and then were able to. By the end of the night, Brody was skiing down the green by himself without falling. And he laughed the whole time. "Momma, look! I can go speed!" (That means fast.) Gracie went down the black with Brendan a couple of times and had a great time.

At one point, Bren was going to fly past me on the blue run. I could see him out of the corner of my eye. Just as he got even with me, the wind started blasting. It blew so hard that it almost brought us to a stop. We looked at each other and died laughing. It was like something out of a movie. Then the wind died down and off he flew.

As you can tell, we had a great time. I'd never skied in my life until Chris. He taught me how when we were just dating. It's so much fun. And to see my kids fly past me, waving, yelling "Hey Momma!" is somehow very gratifying. I'm not sure why.

And if I may brag just for a moment.... I'm the only one who never fell. There is a story about the slow-witted lift operator but that's for another time. Bren says I didn't fall because I only go about 2 mph. I told him that's not the point... the point is... I did not fall.

When I finally get a working keyboard, I'll post some pictures. Until then....

Thoughts on Blogging

No, I don't have my keyboard repaired. I begged and Frank let me borrow his laptop. So, I'm sitting beside my own computer, using his. Lovely.

I have noticed how creative I can get. For instance, I wanted to watch some clips of Jane Eyre on youtube. But how can I do that if I cannot type? Well, I found a link in my faves to Pride and Predjudice. I copied and pasted that into IMDB and did a 6 degrees of separation until I found the name Jane Eyre. Then I copied and pasted that into youtube (also in my faves). Voila! Done.

Changing subjects...

We leave in the morning to go skiing. I'm all packed except for the refrigerated food. My house is clean enough. My van is disgusting though... I must go clean it in a minute. I packed my knee brace. Then verified it was packed. Then had Amber verify that it was packed. I'll probably check it again before we leave. I'm scared I'll leave it and then not be able to ski. And no, KimHill, I am NOT OCD. No. Definitely not. No. Not OCD.

I've missed my blogging community. I've been here reading and yet unable to communicate. I really do love to blog. I heard Kim tell someone the other day that blogging is a great way to get to know other people. And I must agree. Of course, some people are just smart asses. (MattD) But you get used to them. ;o) Overall, it's like extending your family. I like feeling connected to them.

I've added 2 new links. Brandon and Scott H. Brandon has excellent posts but lacks blogging confidence, thus few excellent post to be read. Scott seems to show promise. Several posts in a short time. I've put them at the top of the list so that you can check them out. Come on, Brandon, get to blogging. We all laugh at you secretly anyway. So you might as well give us some material.

I cannot blog with someone reading over my shoulder. Like Ty is doing right now. It blocks the flow. There, he's gone.

Chris and I watched Forrest Gump again yesterday. It's been years since we last watched it and I think I'd forgotten how much I like it. It deals with pain and loss and love and loneliness is such a real and true way. It has great elements to it. And as I watch it I am struck by how different things could be with the love of Christ. Self-hatred replaced with grace. Despair replaced with mercy. And love really can overcome even the worst pain.

I completely redid the tornado closet. (Called the tornado closet because it is big and we hide from tornadoes there not because it looks like a tornado hit it. Which, incidentally, it did.) Anyway, I emptied it, put in a cabinet, organized the movies (which my OCD men loved), got rid of junk that had been hiding in there for 6 years and generally, made it useful space again. I give no promises as to how long it will last. If there is one thing I know about myself, it is this: I am not a naturally organized person. I wish that I was but I'm just not. Therefore my life is a series of clean-ups, mess-ups, clean-ups, mess-ups... you get the idea. It will always be that way. I will never wake up one morning and be my sister. I can only do my best.

I think I'll jog over and post on the COWS blog.

Very annoyed right now. My keyboard port on my computer is broken, thus no ability to type. Grrrr. So I'm at the church, impeding ministry, so that I can post a blog.

And now that I'm here, I feel pressured to hurry up and now cannot thing of a stinkin thing to say. Hmmm.

We went to the Act of Congress concert last night. Took the kids. And we all had the best time. Brody loved it.

But now G is making me get off the computer. He is so mean to me.

Mr. Darcy

I must confess: I'm a little in love with Mr. Darcy. As a literary character, he can't be beaten. Quiet, brooding, misunderstood, handsome, rich. Hmmm-mmm.

(for those of you who have no idea who I'm talking about: Mr. Darcy is from Pride and Prejudice)

Anyway, I have loved P&P since the first time I read it in high school. I was the only one to actually read it at first, everyone else thought it was lame. That is, until I started to rave about it. After that, I think some of the guys even read it. I loved the tension, the romance, the strength of the characters. I read it and fell in love.

I was completely taken in by Wickham. (poor Lizzie) I was annoyed by Mrs. Bennett. ( "Oh my poor nerves") I was cracked up by Mr. Bennett. (he's so superior and sarcastic) I wanted to strangle Lydia. (stupid girl) I recognized a little of myself in Lizzie. (think before you speak) But above all, I wanted to marry Mr. Darcy. He was so strong.

And then I did. There are so many similarities in my relationship with Chris. I'll list them.
1. I despised Chris when I first met him. He was arrogant.
2. I thought I knew everything.
3. I was dating a "Wickham" when Chris and I met. Humiliating.
4. My mother didn't like Chris either.
5. Chris' family was much more educated and wealthier than mine. His great grandfather was
the first mayor of Leeds. He has doctors and engineers in his family. I come from farmers and coal miners.
6. When Chris asked me out for the first time, I didn't even realize it was a date. He was so far above me, it never crossed my mind that he would be interested in me.
7. Once we really knew each other, it was completely obvious that we were made for each other.
8. Chris is a deep thinker and prone to being misunderstood.
9. He was the only man that I ever dated. The rest were all boys.
10. Chris is handsome. Alas, he is not rich.

I'm sure that I could go on and on but I won't bore you any more.

The only cinematic telling of the book that pleases me is the BBC mini-series version. It's almost 6 hours long and gets much of its dialogue directly from the book. Maggie and I watch it together. Probably too much. At least 3 or 4 times a year. Just the thought of it makes me sigh with supressed pleasure.

So now I have the joy of watching my sweet daughter fall in love with Mr. Darcy. As we watch the last hour of the mini-series, we have the exact same goofy smile on our face. Such a great story!