What if...

Wow! Has it been a week? So much has gone on in the past week...a whirlwind of Christmas gatherings, visiting family, traveling...many blog worthy happenings have occurred but my return to blogging will be this little love note to my hubby (insert eye roll here for all you less-than romantics).

Lily and Luke are getting to an age where Christmas traditions are probably becoming more important...from this age on, they may actually remember what we do to celebrate the holiday. So why is it that this year we opted to buy Chips Ahoy rather than bake Santa cookies, we've decided to travel Christmas day and picnic at a rest stop, and my Christmas cards (not yet purchased but still on my "to do" list) will now say Happy New Year instead of Merry Christmas?

Okay, I know I said it in a post quite awhile back, but my "Blogs I Read" section needs some serious attention. I made that list when I started blogging 6 months ago, and since then I have become a regular visitor of many other blogs...but where do I start and where do I draw the line?? The New Year's resolution I intend to keep is to put some work into my blog page. There are several resolutions I will make out of guilt and or self-loathing that are somewhat meaningless, but I'm serious about updating my blog...

This is an obligatory post. I don't really have a set idea as I start to type but I'd like to have something up more recent than Monday's post. That's your warning, the below will be random and poorly planned!

I often ask David, What's on your mind? Right now, tell me what you're thinking this very second, to which he replies nothing or the wall. Whatever sport, I'm not falling for it. Who thinks about the wall? Unless of course you're thinking of painting it or wondering if it's load-bearing for a particular home improvement project and we both know that's not happening. Maybe the Pink Floyd song? Nah, I just don't buy the thinking about the wall bit. But I digress, I said all that to say I'll share what I'm thinking about right now, or at least what I was thinking about before I started thinking about this blog post:

I love Elevation Church. And not just because I was given an ornament today, although I do love to get stuff. I just came from a meeting (or two) so my love for our church and her people is fresh. I love my Elevation cohorts, sure I have some favorites (like that Jessi for example) but I really do love the people I've come to know through Elevation. Aside from Chunks and Amy, I haven't known anyone longer than 2 years and yet I care so much about these people, as if they've been in my life forever. I shouldn't admit this to David, but once the meeting was over tonight, I just lingered...I love to laugh at silly sleuth drawings (no offense Gina!) or joke about giving toddlers slap-bracelets (no offense Brandi!) but I also love digging down deep, tackling the logistical nightmares of serving kids in a high school choir room or pottying 2-year-olds in Ovens Auditorium. In the best moments, I feel something that's been dormant for a long time coming awake. A beast that used to love a challenge but somewhere along the way fell asleep from the fatigue of taking care of two little ones just 12 months apart. For a long time I lived in survival mode. But Mommy gets a good night's sleep now, and Mommy likes a challenge. I'm beginning to feel myself desire the tough stuff again, and it'd been a long time since such things didn't feel overwhelming.

I still haven't found my Micheal Buble CD. I wish I had his Christmas album too. I find myself singing Let it Snow more than any other Christmas carol and I really like his version. Oh, the weather outside is frightful...I was singing in the car yesterday and Luke told me if I wanted to hear Christmas music I needed to turn on the radio. He's not a fan of my vocal stylings.

Lunch with Amy. It's a little surreal to sit across the table with someone I've known since childhood, now surrounded by our own children. When did we become grown-ups? I love her kids. They're so different from mine, so different from each other. I don't always enjoy other people's children. I enjoy hers. I love that my kids know her kids, that they're not just strangers that only see each other a couple times a year. Wow, when did we become grown-ups?

David's stomach hurts, he's gone to bed already. His stomach hurts quite often. Always has...he had some testing done when he was a teenager, no diagnosis. I like to think that medical science has advanced in 20 years and he could get some answers now, but he disagrees. Oh, well. Maybe that's why he just thinks about the wall so much, helps keep his mind off his stomach.

I guess my obligatory post turned out a little longer than I anticipated. I've got a lot on my mind. My thought process feels like some couch potato is sitting in my gray matter channel surfing...Elevation, click, Micheal Buble, click, Amy, click, Oh, the weather outside is frightful, click, gotta blog, click...

Last night I had several odd, random dreams. I often wake up with vague memories of a dream, but last night seemed to hold a trilogy of weirdness . I'm not sure if they were separate or all intertwined...I ran out of gas and was very nervous that the mounted police officer (as in riding a horse) would stop me for reckless driving as I slowly cruised into the gas station, thankful it was downhill??? Then I rummaged through Harry and Debra's laundry, still wet in their washing machine??? Then I woke up with a terrible kinked neck and had to ask my neighbor to drive Lily to school because I was too stiff to drive???

The problem is, I really did wake up this morning with a bad kinked neck. This happens to me several times a year, usually in the winter. I was able to drive Lily to school, after a hot shower to loosen up. Usually sitting still is most comfortable and moving to the left or right is the issue, unfortunately, this one is central, just below my neck and sitting upright seems to aggravate it. I laid flat as long as I could before Luke needed a snack, and then made the mistake of getting on the computer to send an email to my small group. Gotta get off this computer and lay back down...my apologies to the mounted officer and Harry and Debra if either of those other dreams come true.

click the unlock button on your vehicle's keyless entry as you approach your front door? I do it all the time, surely that technology is developing somewhere.

Today was Luke's preschool Christmas program. He was such a champ, he sang and did all the hand motions to the songs (at least he did in between the waves to Lily, Mommy and Daddy). I struggled to hold back tears, how was this the same child that I left kicking and screaming on day 1?

While there, I noticed many of the kids giving the teachers gifts...over achievers I thought to myself, giving the gifts a week before school is out. Those on-the-ball moms were just showing off, I haven't even begun to shop for teacher gifts.

As we left the building, Luke's teacher hugged him good bye and told him to have a very merry Christmas. Huh?! Say again? Is there no school next week?

AHHHHH! Somehow I completely missed the fact that Luke's school is a week ahead of Lily's for Christmas break. I can still hear his director saying at orientation that their breaks coincided with the county schools. Apparently not all of their breaks. Now I'll be doing a little rearranging of my schedule. I had actually agreed to help out at David's office and was looking forward to making a little extra Christmas money.

I feel like such a doofus, we didn't take gifts to his teachers...and I love his teachers...what kind of mom doesn't even know when school is out? You'd think the special program would have been a clue!

Last night was our Momtourage end of book/Christmas social. I admit I had debated not going...my body still ached all over from my scooter-tumble, I haven't been sleeping well at night so I really wanted to get to bed early and David made it home at a decent hour for the first time in weeks, so it was hard to have somewhere else to be. So like I said, I had several reasons to blow it off, but one great reason not to...I LOVE those chicks!

About 30 minutes before I needed to depart, I spilled tomato sauce all over me and decided to squeeze in a quick shower. Ahhhh....dark outside, fresh and clean from the shower, achy body...I had no choice but to put on my pajamas. I love pajamas. Specifically, cozy pajama pants. If you have known me any length of time, you've probably seen me in pajama pants. Maybe you didn't even realize it, it's very likely I have attempted to pass them off as regular pants in your presence. Sometimes I sport them with matching pj top, more often with whatever tee is clean and comfy.

Now we all know, strange dynamics often occur when groups of females gather. We give thought to whether or not we are the heaviest or oldest in the room. We wonder why our house doesn't look as clean as the hostess, although she's spent 12 hours cleaning before we arrived. We also like her drapes, the color of her walls and the square footage of her living room more than our own. And we would never, ever wear our pajamas to a holiday social unless it was a cutesy-themed pajama party, then we'd go out and buy new pajamas. Right?

Momtourage must be an abnormal gathering of women. Who's the oldest, who's the heaviest, who has the biggest house? Who cares? And no matter how great the hostess' home looks for the evening, I am quite certain we are all aware that at noon on Tuesday no one's house is as tidy as they'd like it to be. And most importantly, I think any one of us would attend in our old pajamas on any given occasion if it so suits our mood.

So with a fat lip and my flannel pj pants, I joined in the fun as we compared favorite "cheesy" movies and swapped old boyfriend stories. Every few minutes, we'd get a little deeper and voice the fears we have for our daughters or the insecurities we have in our friendships (or was that just me?). Regardless, I may have been the only one wearing pjs, but we were all in a pj state of mind.

1 fun-loving mommy (with somewhat rusty skillz)
1 preschool sized Hot Wheels scooter

Combine with high speed and a slightly sloped driveway.

Above mixture will result in:
1 road-burned arm
2 scraped knees
1 cheek abrasion
1 swollen lip, busted inside and out
1 set of bloody knuckles
1 skinned-up palm
1 scuffed shoulder

Best served with a distressed 4 year old (Why Mommy? Why were you on my scooter? Why?) and a husband you ignores the cries of a 5 year old for help because he believes her to be kidding.

Garnish with 2 Aleve and Band-Aids.


Besides the obvious humor of my "way too old for this crap" situation, David and I stood in front of the mirror, my face covered in blood and tears and laughed about what we will tell his coworkers tomorrow. Yes, the event occured on the eve of me helping out at David's office. As I cleaned my wounds he comforted me with, We have got to come up with a better story. We have decided to go with spousal abuse.

I'm feeling a little a lot warm and fuzzy about my husband today. I'd actually decided NOT to spend a second on this computer that I could be spending with him, but he's quietly napping behind me so I'm taking a few minutes to love on him via my blog. He worked over 72 hours this past week. Thankfully, this is not our norm. His company was in the middle of an inventory and woooo-hoooo, it's over! But after hours like that, I have really missed him and have a renewed appreciation for his work ethic and provision for our family. Along with that, the kids and I decorated our Christmas tree this morning, which always gets me feelin' a little sentimental. I get a little fuzzy on the inside as I unwrap the ornaments that mark the occasions of our wedding, our first Christmas married, our first home, the kids' first Christmas seasons...a decade of memories fill that tree. I remember our first Christmas tree, we actually went out and bought miscellaneous ornaments to fill it. Now 10 Christmases later, it's funny to think that our first tree was too bare.

As David shaved this morning, I walked in the bathroom and started a conversation with this: Babe, as my spiritual head, I really need you to speak some truth into this situation (and followed with my predicament). This comes after a week of us having very little communication and me really wanting his thoughts on an issue that's been troubling me. Usually that kind of intro causes a big sigh out of David. He likes a conversational warm up before I ask him to cut through my chaos. He looked up and gave me the straight talk like nobody can. Probably 2 sentences worth. That's what he can do for me like no one else. Anyone who knows David knows he is quiet. That means when he speaks, it matters.

Love ya, Buddy.

There is a beep in my house. Every 28 seconds. Not a missed-call beep. Not a microwave-ready beep. A something is going on with the smoke detector in Lily's room and I don't know what to do about it beep. Peep on Discovery Kids doesn't drowned out the beep. (Peep-beep, interesting.) Snoring dog doesn't cover up the beep. Clicking computer keyboard doesn't mask the beep. I fear that fiddling with it will only worsen the beep. But I must try.

David has been working long days for several weeks now, and even more so the past 2 weeks. I say days, although the days turn to nights and he's gone before sun-up and home well after sun-down. I miss him, the kids miss him. They often go to bed long before he's home. There have been several consecutive days he hasn't seen them at all, at least not awake.

These are statements of facts, and a week ago, they'd have been complaints. I'd have been throwing myself a pity party right about now.

Sunday at the Nutcracker, a lovely young mother of two sweet blond girls sat behind us. Her oldest daughter happened to be a classmate of Brandi's daughter so they struck up a conversation. Brandi recognized the family from the local newspaper. Her husband had been in Iraq for 16 months. She put her little ones to bed without daddy every night. He was recently home for 3 weeks and then back off, this time still in the states. Brandi asked if she had family nearby. No, just good friends and a supportive church. Would he be home for Christmas? No, but they would see him shortly after. Not an ounce of self-pity in her voice. She seemed so happy to have had those 3 weeks with him and content to see him after the holidays.

So I won't complain that my husband has been so busy at work lately. And when I feel the self-pity start to well up in me, I'll be thankful for the job he has and enjoys. And I have a feeling that mom I sat in front of at the ballet won't complain either, because just as her story sticks with me, I bet she knows the story of another military wife who's husband won't be coming home at all.

Lily and I went to see the Nutcracker on Sunday, as performed by a nearby community ballet. I thought it was the perfect "first" ballet experience for Lily. Beautiful costumes and lovely ballerinas...room full of other squirming children (making mine less obvious) and very reasonable tickets. Brandi and I took our girls, an oasis of mother-daughter time squeezed into an already full day. I think my favorite moment was this exchange between Lily and Avery....

In hushed tones, as "Chinese" Dancers appeared:

Avery: Are they cats?

Lily: No, they're kangaroos...baby kangaroos...joeys.

I missed this brief, confused conversation but Brandi whispered it to me and we both tried to contain our giggles...the thought of our girls mistaking the dancers dressed in oriental attire for cats kangaroos?!? Who knows what else they thought was going on! I'd love to hear their full interpretation. Lily fell asleep during the last act. Sweet time.

As I read the daily Proverbs 31 devotional this morning, I couldn't help but feel like it was meant just for me. The author, Marybeth, is a stellar woman I feel privileged to know and I immediately emailed her to let her know how much her words spoke truth into my life right now. Then I thought it'd be nice to ask her permission to copy this to my blog but then again, it might take her awhile to reply (mothering 6 can keep a lady busy) and I just had to do this right now, so I am taking the liberty to share her thoughts. Marybeth, thanks for sharing this, just for me...and the thousands of other Not-So-Super Moms who needed permission to take off the cape.


Someday…
I’ll remember to order those cute Christmas return address labels for my cards.
I’ll bake real gingerbread houses like Martha Stewart instead of buying those cheap, cheesy kits.
I’ll finish my shopping early instead of waiting to the last minute.
I’ll hand make gifts for all our neighbors, teachers, postal carriers, and garbage men.
I’ll wrap presents that look like the ones in the magazines, not like a kindergartner did it.
I’ll actually do all those service projects that look like a worthy thing to do.
Someday… is not now.

Whatever season in life you are in this Christmas, embrace it. There will be other times to do all those things you want to do. Or not. Whatever your situation is, trust that God is sovereign and He ordained for you to be where you are at this time, for His purpose. There is something to be gained from every season in life. The trick is to find that piece of wisdom God has for you in the midst of each season.

When the angel appeared to Mary, he told her some pretty shocking news about what was going to happen to her. His message ushered her into a season in life that included confusion, rejection and some pretty extreme transition. And yet, her response was “May it be to me as you have said” (Luke 1:38).

I want Mary’s reaction to be my own reaction. I want my attitude to be one of complete surrender to God’s will, no matter what the circumstances. I want to be able to say with confidence “May it be to me as you have said” instead of whining to God, “Why did you let this happen to me?” like I usually do.

The first step in embracing every season is to let go of our own expectations—even when it means learning to love our limitations. Whether you are struggling with illness, or lack of energy, or a marriage situation, or money problems, or family issues—whatever it is, that is where God has you. Stop trying to be Super Mom or Super Woman and trust a super God instead.

Dear Lord, help me see You this Christmas. Help me keep my focus on You and not on my to-do list. And would you please remind me when I forget that You love me not because of what I accomplish but because I am, simply, Your child? In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Me again...go back and read that a couple more times. Each time I did, something new jumped off the page...His purpose...surrender...letting go of my expectations. Big sigh.

Driving me a little bit crazy...

Maaaaaa-maa, c'mere! On the other side of that call, there is always a bottom to be wiped or a spill to be cleaned.

Where is my Michael Buble CD? Anyone, anyone? David, did you hide it? Did I make you listen to Home ten too many times? When will I see it again? Tell me cuando, cuando, cuando?

The dog's breath smells like something died in her mouth. What on earth do I do for that? I can barely keep up with my children's oral hygiene, much less the boxer's.

David's late nights. One more week to go.

I met my best friend for lunch today. The atmosphere was somewhat chaotic, the food left much to be desired and our time together was rushed, but I savored her company. Many times when we're together it seems I'm asking her to fit into my world, keep up at my pace, work around my schedule...but today I stepped into her world. And she was glowing. She flashed her smile at everyone that passed and spoke to many people by name. I didn't know she even knew so many people. She said she was "so glad I came" and she asked what'd I'd been doing today. I'm not ashamed to say I really love her affirmation and attention and it seems moments like that are few and far between.

Lunch at an elementary school with my kindergartner. I'm only left to wonder why I don't do it more often.

Like the new glittery Erin (to the right)? It was a gift. The new trend in gift giving: blog bling. It's the gift that keeps on giving.

Clearly, I did not get a chance to blog on Thanksgiving night what my "Top 5" end of day items were. And now, it's really just too late. As I try and think back on Thursday evening as we wrapped up the holiday, my perspective is tainted by the fact that 2 additional days have past and they have been interesting days, for lack of a better adjective. I really don't know what my "Top 5" would have been, but I know what tops my list today.

So this may not be my end of day "Top 5" as intended, and I'll try my hardest not to be too wordy or sappy but on this holiday weekend, and every other day of the year, I am so thankful for my people. I'm so thankful just to know I have them.

Tuesday a friend called needing a little help as she cared for her husband and children, all sick with a stomach bug. Thursday we received a late night call from another friend sitting in the ER with her husband; she was in need of help with their young son as she also tended to the needs of her sick husband. Yesterday in Florida, a family friend suddenly lost her 28 year old seemingly healthy husband. Tragic. There are really no words to do justice to the emotions, fear, exhaustion and pain associated with sickness, death, tragedy. Life can be so hard. You gotta have people. Good people. Supportive people. Truth-speaking people. Hold your hand or hold your baby people. Stop what they're doing people. Lose a little sleep people. Not a burden people. Say the right thing people. Just listen people. Tell you like it is people. Take care of details people. Feed your kids people. Make sure you eat a good meal people. Clean your house people. Carry your load people. Praying to God people.

I'm so thankful, more than this blog can express thankful, to know I have that kind of people on my side. Thanks, to all my people. And if you don't think you have people like that, give me a call...you've got me, and I'm that kind of people.

1. I'm thankful my kids slept through the night, in their own beds. This is especially appreciated since the night before they both came down at 2:15am (unusual for them to come together) and the rest of the night was a blur of blanket tugging and rib jabbing. Not only did I get a much better night's sleep but it also gave me the opportunity to wake up right next to my hubby and *snuggle* a bit.
2. I'm thankful for comp'ny...that's what we call house guests where I'm from :) Sure I stress in the days leading up about whether or not the pantry is stocked and if the house is ready, (and this year I was so focused on getting all the necessities for "the" meal, I overlooked the other 12 meals we'll need). Regardless, we can't make it "home" nearly as often as we'd like, so it's awfully nice when a little bit of "home" comes here. We don't take it lightly, 600 miles is a bit of a drive, we appreciate our comp'ny!
3. I'm thankful for our new house. I still like to say new house. Sure it was 10 years old when we bought it and we've been here 6 months, but it's still new to me, and I love it! Makes having comp'ny a little nicer too. Last Thanksgiving we piled 6 adults, 2 dogs and 2 kids into our 2 bedroom apartment for the holiday weekend, loved it then, love it more in a house! Seriously, I am thankful for our home.
4. I'm thankful for coffee. I'm about 3 minutes from heading into the kitchen for a hot cup of goodness. I started drinking coffee when I was 22, working in an elementary school that always seemed 10 degrees too cold. Then, coffee became a necessary evil to warm my body temp so I could function. Now, coffee is my friend.
5. I'm thankful for blogging. I would run out of cell phone minutes if I tried to call all my friends and family to tell them this Top 5. Not to mention how many friends I'd lose by awakening them on a day off at 7:30am to ramble about my sleeping habits and coffee drinking!

I hope in the next two days I find ample time to blog between house guests and holiday hustle, because I have so much I want to say on the subject of thankfulness that I can't squeeze it into one post. Here is my first:

The Bible tells me that I am fully known. I personally do not fully know anything (except about the moon and dinonsaurs...he,he) but one day I will fully know my God just as He knows me. Face to face. Until then, I am so thankful just to be fully known. It is freedom. If this were not the case, I would work hard to protect my dark, depraved, not so nice, fiery-tempered side. I also would work hard to show my loving, generous, witty side. Life would be a never-ending balancing act. But He knows me, all of me, so I am free. Not free to just be as ugly as I want, but there is such freedom in being loved unconditionally. I hope it makes sense to say I am thankful that my Lord knows just how warped I am, because proving myself otherwise is exhausting. I know for a fact.

When we moved here almost 2 years ago, I expected to face being homesick, getting lost on the unfamiliar streets, learning to accept new TV weathermen and anchors. I didn't expect the deep insecurity that comes with being "unknown." And I don't mean known in the community, as if I'm famous, I just mean known by the people I spend each day with. People who know my quirks, get my jokes, know my history. I came from a tight-knit community made up of family and friends I had known for decades. They knew me, and they loved me as unconditionally as flawed humans can. They knew my strengths and weaknesses, we had inside jokes, it was easy to be vulnerable. There was great comfort and trust in being surrounded by people that really knew me.

I have been truly blessed with a phenomenal group of peers here in NC, far more peers than I ever had back "home." In Florida, my own mom was the only stay-at-home-mom I hung out with, and needless to say, she didn't have little ones anymore. Here, I have the great pleasure of sharing life with many other women in my same life stage. It's a great experience for me and the kids. I've also had the pleasure of getting to know people in the life stages just ahead of mine, they offer wisdom and guidance, and again, it's been a great experience. But I have to admit, in getting to know people and allowing them to get to know me, I have battled the demon of insecurity harder than any other. To prove myself worthy, to prove I am smart and funny and a good mom and a strong believer and a hard worker, and on and on and on. I have been met with tremendous love and acceptance, but I've felt such insecurity rooted in feeling "unknown." I've faced circumstances where had someone known me better, that wouldn't have been assumed, that wouldn't have been said, I wouldn't have been doubted. I'm willing to concede this battle is much of my own doing, my own creation. I doubt I've met a single person waiting on pins and needles for me to prove myself, and if I have, I don't need that relationship anyway.

I share that battle to say, it is exhausting and unsettling to feel unknown, to feel no one really gets me or knows the real me. And as I have fought that battle learning to live in a new place, I have gained a new appreciation, a new gratitude for what it means to be fully known by my Savior. I'm also thankful that I do indeed have peer-relationships that have crossed the line into friendships where I feel vulnerable and loved and valued. God has been so faithful to provide safe relationships. So again, foremost by my God, but also by loved ones, friends and family, I am thankful to be known.

About two weeks ago, David asked what I would be willing to cook for him to take to his Thanksgiving dinner at work. I listed 4 or 5 choices and he picked mashed potatoes. He rarely comments on my cooking, good or bad, so I was pleased to know he enjoys my homemade mashed potatoes enough to share with his coworkers. My joy over the potato-making was short lived.

All you cooks out there can shake your head in dismay, but I thought all potatoes were created equal. Now of course I know the difference in a red potato, white potato and sweet potato but as far as which white potatoes boil up best to be mashed, I knew no difference. I bought the cheapest potatoes I could find yesterday....and the mashed potatoes turned out terrible! No matter what I did, the potatoes were too firm. The flavor was okay but the texture was all wrong so I finally (after much effort) gave up on batch #1 and made a run to the grocery store for better potatoes. The unused batch is going to the freezer, I may attempt to doctor them up into a cream of potato soup in the near future. The new batch turned out fine, but at what cost? Between the two batches, I have dirtied every dish and spoon in my kitchen. While boiling batch #2, something that spilled on the burner a couple days ago caught fire and set off my smoke alarms, upsetting the dog. Now my house is filled with smokey, smelly haze, I have a mountain of potato smeared dishes to clean and I have to deliver the potatoes to David's work since they first batch wasn't decent enough for him to take this morning.

All this and house guests headed this way later today! I really don't have time to be blogging, but I had to have an outlet before I exploded. Now I can go on with my day.

Maybe to you "neighborhood drama" means loud parties or a risque yard sale (actually saw one of those today) but not in our 'hood...I'm talking drama, as in theatrical. A third grade neighbor has decided to write a Christmas play and wants all the kids on our street participate. It's turned into quite the situation as my two refuse to participate leaving the parts of one wise man and a cow un-acted. Today in our mailbox we received a typed script and a marker drawing of the necessary costumes. Again, Lily and Luke refuse to participate but she's not giving up. She conned them a little today by asking if they'd just stand in for other children who weren't available for "rehearsal" hoping they'd decide to join the fun. Her plan backfired when her older brother came out and informed her that her script isn't Biblically correct, causing a front yard screaming match. Tis the season. My two little ones, who dread confrontation, high-tailed it home. No Mary and Joesph baby-mama drama for them.

I've been thinking a lot about laughter lately...trying to figure out why I don't laugh as much a I used to. There's this dull headache I get at the base of my skull when I laugh really hard and my mascara smudges on my cheeks because, well, I have big cheeks that touch my eyes when I laugh. Seems like I haven't had many make-up smudging, headache causing moments lately.

Now, I can't say I don't remember the last time I laughed really hard because I do...Monday night, I made a dumb comment about a radio show I used to listen to...a dedication request...a Boys II Men song...wasn't that funny, but it must have hit Jess just right because she really laughed, which made me really laugh, and then we both just laughed to the point of tears. Along with the 4 other women in the room...not sure if they were laughing at the comment or us, either way, it was the kind of laughter I've been missing. The kind of laugh where I pinch my nose to avoid a snort and hope I don't pee my pants. Yes, I said it...laughing, sneezing, trampoline jumping...a couple pregnancies can do that to a gal.

I have much joy in my life...sweet kids, a hubby I adore, good friends...I'm not lacking things that bring me joy. But it just seems like I don't laugh like I used to, at least not lately. Either I'm not as funny, or the people I'm hanging around aren't. Ecclesiastes 3 says there is a season for everything, laughter included (vs.4). Apparently, I'm just not in a season of laughter, but one will come again, soon I hope. In the mean time, I'll just turn on an episode of The Office and get my jollies that way.

I have several things floating around in my brain to post about today, and maybe I will a little later, but with yesterday's post, I thought sharing this morning's backseat conversation was appropriate (and cute!):

As we drove past the VFW on the way to Lily's school:

Luke: Lil, that's where I went to see the um...um...what is it, Mom?

Me: The memorial?

Luke: Yeah, the memorial, for people who died.

Lily: I know Lukey, you've told me a hundred times.

Luke: It's for the war, Pa was in the war, he's a ve...ve...

Me: Veteran.

Luke: Veteran.

Lily: So he's old?

Yesterday, Veteran's Day, was the 25th anniversary of the Vietnam Wall in DC. I recently took Luke to the "Moving" Wall when it traveled to our town. I explained to him, as best I could, the significance of the wall, and how his Pa, my dad, was a Vietnam Veteran. He told me he was glad his Pa's name wasn't on that wall.

We are blessed to be born Americans, but we did not acquire our liberties without cost. Someone paid our price. Such great love.

To all veterans, to my veterans: my dad, my brother, my husband, and to the men and women serving today, thank you.

As I was signing Luke into his preschool yesterday, I overheard one mom (dragging in two boys) saying to another mom (accompanied by a precious blond girl) It must be fun to dress little girls, to which the mom replied enthusiastically, Yes, it is!

Ahhh, I remember those days! We didn't find out the sex of our first baby until the moment she popped out...and although it wasn't the first thing on my mind, it didn't take long for the excitement of dressing a little girl to build. We had packed only unisex things for the hospital and had received mostly unisex items at the showers (I say mostly because a couple people bought "girl" because they had a feeling!) but within hours of her birth, gifts of pink began pouring in. I believe Rhonda, (see two posts down), takes the prize for Lily's first dress, dainty pale pink with matching bonnet, accompanied by her first baby doll, all while we were still in the hospital. In her first few months, I would often change her clothes 3-4 times a day just to get use out of all the adorable outfits she was quickly outgrowing. Not only was she fun to dress, she was fun to buy for...pink and frilly or denim and trendy, either way, I, like many moms, took great pleasure in dressing my daughter. I knew a week in advance what she would wear to church. I knew months in advance what she would wear on a holiday: Easter, Christmas, Mother's Day. Oh, how I wish it was like that today!

Lily allowed me to pick out her clothes until this school year began. I don't know exactly what happened when, but she has stopped letting me use her as my life-size doll. The nerve! Today, as I dropped her off for school, I just shook my head to watch my mismatched daughter head into the building...fuchsia tights with a black shirt, not too bad. Add to that white socks, brown shoes, a turquoise hoodie, pink gloves and suddenly, I no longer want to take credit for her attire. She's always had a flair for the mismatched...when left to choose her own clothes she would put different prints together and snow boots would complete the ensemble. But she has always let me pick the "important" stuff...you know, the out-in-public wardrobe. This school year started off on the right foot. Mimi took all the grandkids school shopping and Lily picked out cargo capris, embellished denim, cute tops. Weeks one and two of school she wore each outfit, selected daily by mom, with no fuss. Then week three rolled around, fatigue was setting in, and I think she just decided enough was enough...she was dressing her way, take it or leave it. And "soft clothes" became the new phrase in our home. Soft clothes: cotton leggings, elastic waistbands, roomy shirts. A couple Hanes legging outfits from Walmart, a few hand-me downs from Gymboree, some Old Navy fleece that still fits from last year...we're making this "soft clothes" thing work. I'm hanging on to the embellished denim and cargo pants hoping she'll add those back in soon but in the mean time, we're piecing together outfits that don't itch or bind...some days successfully, other days, not so much.

But here's my confession, as much as it makes me want to bash my head into the wall, I'm also really proud of her! Kindergarten is not too young for peer pressure and you don't hear many kids at school saying "soft clothes are the coolest" nor do you see Hannah Montana sporting Hanes on stage, so despite our current trends and role models, Lily is choosing comfort. And I'm just trying to help her balance comfort with style.

We've got a long road ahead of us...tween years, teen years. It's actually funny to think that the same things (outfits, clothing, shopping) that bring mommies such joy in the early months and years will bring such strife as our daughters grow.

Happy Anniversary, Harry and Rhonda! I'm going to say 24 years?? Yes, or 25? Don't they look way too young to have been married that long!? I wouldn't believe it myself had I not been there...I was their flower girl!

I grew up lovin' on their three children and it's been fun to watch their not-so-little-anymore children (ages 14, 17, 19) love on mine. It's a sweet circle...they were a part of our daily lives in Florida.

Today I'm just hanging with my main man Luke (still in rocket PJs) and our friend Gideon, the mighty warrior napper. The air is cool, the sky is "Tar Heel" blue and a pot of chili is simmering on the stove. The fact that it's Friday is just icing. The fact that an extra hour will magically appear in our weekend schedule is almost more than I can stand.

Here's a Friday funny that may turn into a Friday fight if this embarrasses David, but he didn't even flinch at the pom-pom pic so I'm thinking he's just cool like that...

Have you seen the KFC commercial where the guy runs over the speed bump to test the new KFC triple dip chicken strips pack? (Three strips that come with 3 sauces that neatly tuck into a box for maximum portability) To the relief of everyone in the car, the triple dip pack withstands the bump and remains spillproof. Anyway, as the commercial played last night David said, barely audible, I love chicken so much that commercial makes me happy. That makes me smile. Look, I'm smiling.

I hope he went to KFC and got that pack for lunch today, he's worked hard this week, he deserves to eat a lunch that makes him smile :)

It's good to be back...we've had computer issues for a few days. I resorted to going to the public library to check email. I say "resorted" not because I dislike my library, but the library's internet is just not the same. I couldn't visit Craig's List, which I do regularly (I guess the library blocks it because of the personals??), I stayed away from online banking and I chose not to spend my limited computer time reading or writing blogs so I'm out of the loop!

I have not blogged about Elevation in quite awhile. That might give the impression that nothing much is going on but in fact, the opposite is true. SO MUCH is happening at and through and with Elevation right now that each time I think of typing an update I feel overwhelmed. So I have avoided the task all together. Shame on me. I still can not even begin to pick up where I last left off (I think my last "update" was an August post about our new children's curriculum...which by the way has been HUGELY successful!). But, I have to share some of what's going on...it's too exciting not to talk about, and honestly, everyone at Elevation and in our area is, so this is more for you out-of-towners!

Check out this link to the front page news and then this link to see for yourself!

Side note: David called early this morning to reprimand me for my earlier post. He said something to the effect of "There are people about to run out of water and you want the rain to stop?! You shouldn't say that!" Maybe my exclamation points are a stretch. He probably kept his typical intonation. Anyway, on behalf of my husband, I am sorry. And it is still raining.

I know our area desperately needed rain, along with the entire southeastern US. I'm sure what we've received the past few days doesn't even put a dent in the drought. However...

When measured by the drops that have pelted my head and face as I've buckled and unbuckled carseats, times I've scolded my kids for stomping in the puddles in their good shoes, and dustpans I have filled with the wet yard mess we've tracked inside, it has been quite enough.

Love:

• Publix (Publix is a great grocery store...love the bakery, love the Boar's Head meats, love the subs!)


• No such thing as a "nonsmoking section" because there is NO such thing as a "smoking section"


• Swimming in October (pools in FL don't close like NC...swimming is handled with common sense, you quit swimming when it gets to cold to enjoy, usually around November, then back to the pool by late March/early April!)

• Humidity. All my life I heard "it's not the heat, it's the humidity" and never understood what that meant. In mid-August, it is the stinkin' heat, not matter what the humidity is like. But in fall, humidity makes all the difference. It's heavy like an old lady's thick shawl is thrown over your shoulders the minute you step outside. And it makes my hair a mess.


• Fire ants. I know we have them here but I was bit by more ants in my 4 days in FL than I have been in nearly 2 years here.


• Frogs. I really hate frogs, this applies to toads as well. I have seen 2 here in NC, total, and they were from a distance (in the road). That's an average of one per year. I can handle one per year. I do not like frogs and toads waiting at the doorstep, or taunting me with their croaks after a rain like they do in Florida. Florida is frog infested, like an Egyptian plague.

I'm sure you've gathered by now that our family traveled to Florida last week/weekend to attend a wedding. I love weddings. Love the dresses, love the food, love crazy ring bearers, love 'em. David, not so much, but he does enjoy the opportunity to visit friends and family so we both had a great time. The bride was bee-u-tee-ful...and the groom not so bad ;) Raina and Dennis are hopefully enjoying a lovely time in St. Lucia this very moment. I hope they're not getting the rain we have been...but they're honeymooning so does it matter?

Back to FL...it was a nice trip all together. Often we try and cram so much into the short time that we end up feeling we've really done a disservice to everyone, including ourselves, by not giving anyone a quality visit. It's like that speed-dating trend, 1 minute, then move on to the next. Only we're not dating, we're speed visiting: Hi! How are ya? Yep, kids are growin' up fast. NC is lovely. Yes, it's cooler than FL. Elevation is great, God is good. See ya next visit. Move on to the next relative. This visit, our goal was to attend Raina and Dennis' wedding. We wanted to be a part of their special day. If we achieved that, our visit would be a success, so everything else was just icing. We slept in, we took naps, we goofed off with the kids. Sure we could have used another day or two to squeeze in a tad bit more, but overall, I think we spent our days well. Aside from Luke getting sick for a brief period of time and the causality on the drive home, it was a near perfect visit. And I was reminded of all the things I love and hate about FL...stay tuned.

We're back home after a great long weekend in Florida. And there are so many things about the weekend I need to blog about...the beautiful wedding we attended, the many friends and family we connected with, sleeping in, afternoon naps...all the things that make a great getaway. But I just have to share this while it's fresh...

About 75 miles from home, cruising down interstate at about 75 miles an hour...we heard a large thud. The kind that makes you cringe. David and I looked at each other, examined the road ahead and behind...nothing.The Explorer continued to drive fine, no shaking or rattling. We just kept going and didn't give it another thought, until...

We arrived home about 9:45pm, David began unloading the back and I began cleaning out the backseat which looked like our toy box and snack drawer had exploded. I also barked orders to the kids...head upstairs, brush your teeth, get your pjs on...it was a chaotic time. A few minutes later, I saw David head to the mailbox. On his way back up to the house a terrible look crossed his face and he did a little heebie-jeebie shiver as he darted away from the front of the vehicle. (We had backed in, so going to the mailbox was his first glimpse of the front of the SUV.) I yelled, What's wrong? and much to my dismay, he said, You know that noise we heard on interstate? It's still on our car.

Uggghhhh.

I won't gross you out with the details. Let's just say, smaller than a breadbox but bigger than a loaf of bread. It wasn't at all gory, it just seemed stuck. Yuck. All I could say was, We're like the dad-gum Griswolds. Only, if this had really been a Lampoon's movie, the critter would have resurrected and attached itself to Chevy Chase's head.

David is no wimp, but dead animals are not his thing. He's no hunter, you won't catch him going after a snake with a shovel, just not that kind of guy. He doesn't like live critters much less dead ones. But I'm so proud, with no complaints he boxed and bagged our grill-mounted creature. About 10 minutes after we made our discovery it hit me that we had gone through the Chick-Fil-A drive thru about 30 minutes after the thud. I wonder what they were thinking!?! I'm just so thankful we found it before I filed into the carpool line this morning!

We had a full day planned. Right now I should be headed to church with my parents. I'm not. I'm here posting this quick thought...there is no vacation from motherhood. I'll post more about where we've been and what we've been doing in a future post, but today, I'm not on vacation anymore. Today, I'm caring for a vomiting child. All plans out the window, in a flash...down the toilet, literally. Don't get me wrong, I don't resent my little one for being sick. He can't help it, he'd rather be off having a good time too. To be very southern, shall I say, Bless his heart! I feel so bad for him, begging for more food and drink, not understanding why I'm "neglecting" his most basic needs.

Motherhood is indeed the job with no vacation but tons of sick time...caring for others who are sick.

Just a quick post to say I will be taking a blog break for the next several days, maybe. I say maybe because as sure as I say there will be no new post, something worthy of an immediate post will occur...

Next week I'll fill you in on what we'll be up to this weekend. Our "weekend" starts tomorrow :)

What I want to be...
What I want to be...
When I grow up to be big me...

Words from the well known philosopher, Barney. You can love him or hate him...we were good friends. He stopped by my house daily and entertained my toddlers giving me just enough time catch my breath (or take a shower, put away laundry, make lunch). Barney was the first (and for awhile, only) TV show my kids expressed interest in and they enjoyed him for several years. But I'm off track...

What I want to be when I grow up to be big me...that seems to be the question on my mind (and thanks to Barney it's also a catchy tune). I, for darn sure, hope this is as big as this me gets, but the "what I want to be" part is elusive. For weeks now, I seem to have an itch I can't scratch. An itch I can't quite put my finger on.

Let me say, I am not in a season of dissatisfaction. Taking care of Lily and Luke and David are still my priority, and my joy. My days stay busy with drop offs, pick ups, household duties and volunteer work but also hugs and kisses and lots of laughter. I am not bored or lonely or feeling inadequate. I am however gripped with a feeling that there is something just beyond my view, something with my name on it. It's as if I'm squinting into the horizon almost able to see it but not quite. It feels like it's impossible to find since I don't know exactly what I'm looking for, so I'm hoping it finds me.

Luke has apparently decided to tackle breaking all 10 commandments in this, his fourth year. As I've reported in earlier posts, he's quite the liar. That sounds harsh to say about my precious son but there is no way to deny, his pants are totally on fire.

Today, we added theft to our list of broken commandments. He stole a tiny eyeball bouncy ball from a store I will not name in an effort to protect my little felon. I think it may be part of a display or something, like it goes to some Halloween decoration. It just doesn't look like a "sold separately" item. But that certainly doesn't make it any better.

David and I are at a loss. I called him at work for a parental conference that basically consisted of a series of "I don't knows."

Do I go back to the store and make him return it? If so, is it okay to just sneak back down the aisle and put it back or do we have to approach an employee and confess? This is Luke. Sweet, sensitive, timid Luke...I worry about traumatizing him by handling this the wrong way. I have no idea why he's recently turned to a life of crime but with big blue eyes and a smile like his, he could probably make it work for him for years to come.

I did take the ball away immediately, I'm confident that allowing him to play with stolen goods is a bad idea. But I'm at a loss now. I will say that he actually told me the truth about the ball and that made me very proud. As proud as the mother of a thief can be.

I'd like to say that now, 6 weeks into the school year, I have become a well-oiled, lunchbox packing, carpool dropping, homework checking, folder signing machine. I'd like to say that but it'd be far from the truth. Our mornings are not disastrous, but everyday looks different. We're survivng our school routine more so than thriving. I am confident we'll get better at this but, I was so glad to have a day off from school today. It's conference day, which brings a stress all it's own, but at least we were able to sleep until 7:30am, eat a leisurely breakfast and I'm happy to say we're all still in PJs.

I hate it when I find myself bothered by something...something I shouldn't be so bothered by, something I shouldn't let get the best of me, and then I find myself more bothered that I let it bother me to begin with. I beat myself up for not being as mature as I like to think I am. It really bothers me that it bothers me, you know? Focusing my irritation inward allows me to ignore the sting of whatever initially bothered me rather than being honest with myself, examining why I'm bothered, and working through it. It's a vicious cycle.

My darling spouse seems bothered by nothing, leaving me room to be bothered enough for the both of us, but that is often exhausting.

As I sat down this morning with my Bible and journal, it didn't take me long to figure out I had a severe problem focusing, more so than usual. The kids were busy with breakfast and I was not in my usual rush...I had no one to blame, but I was so distracted. This house went from tidy to tornado in the past 48 hours which feels like an immediate need since our small group meets here tonight, I have some important volunteer spots to get covered ASAP which certainly warrants my attention, and Lily is a wreck first thing in the morning with severe allergy congestion which has now settled into a sinus and ear infection so I was battling the mental debate of school or no school (Dr. gave her green light, I was less convinced). Distracted, and as usual, by good things to give my attention to...and I just couldn't turn them "off."

I've been in a funk for a while now and when I'm in that kind of place indecisiveness settles on me like a thick fog. The simplest decisions feel overwhelming. This has been building for awhile and I knew I needed time with God to clear my noggin. Best. Best. I got up from my desk, finished getting both kids ready for school (I opted to take Lily late, letting her spend the early morning hours resting and "clearing" her head) and then made the rounds to drop them off. After that, with Bible and journal in hand, I headed to Panera. For some reason I felt drawn to go public for my alone time, to separate myself from the many, many things distracting me. From my seat at Panera, there was no view of my messy kitchen, no computer beckoning me to send a half dozen emails to solicit volunteer help, no stack of bills on the desk, no calendar or to-do list. I went to a public place to be alone. That is what best looked like this morning. The best use of my time was to forget the seemingly immediate tasks, and direct my full attention on the internal ache I've had to seek and hear from God. Hoping, in turn, I would find the proper state of mind to address the other things that do need my attention: tonight's small group, Sunday's volunteer needs and my daily wife/mother duties.

Best won't always look like quiet time at a coffee house, how I wish it would! But this morning, a cup of coffee from the mug (not the styrofoam to-go cup), a table just big enough to spread out on and the white noise of multiple indistinct conversations mixed with the clatter of dishes provided the perfect setting to just let go of life. As I chewed on my asiago cheese bagel, I also chewed on some scriptures a friend wrote down for me last week. (You know you're "off" when a trusted friend gives you an index cards full of suggested scriptures!) As I repeatedly refilled my mug with hot coffee, I felt a spiritual "refill" as well.

Now, hear what I'm saying. Please don't read this and shrug it off with Oh sure, I'd be in a great place if I could take the morning to sip coffee and relax too. It's important to note, I did not find time in my day to take a several hour break with God, I made time. I tend to blame my spiritual dryness on what I can't do, when in reality making time for God a priority is often what I won't do. I've found myself in a fog of indecision and uncertainty because I've filled days and weeks with good things, at the expense of the best thing. Today I needed to create an out of the ordinary experience to get myself back on track, but I believe what's truly best for me is to make and take this same time with God within the whirlwind of my daily life.

About two hours after I arrived, I left Panera feeling much lighter. Sure, the spring in my step could be the 3 cups of coffee :) but too many other side effects of time with Him are present to deny He is the reason.

Last night as I met with my fellow book study moms, we began to openly chat about how overwhelmed many of us feel as we juggle our kids, our husbands, jobs, volunteerism, school, etc. We weren't complaining, every woman in the room would equally chat with you about the blessings in her life...but we share the common heart cry of wanting to honor and serve our God, our famililes, our churches, our communities ...and to do so with excellence.

Within this discussion, we talked about how much harder it is to rightly discern what does and does not need our attention when everything filling our calendars and to-do lists is "good." There are so many good ways to fill a day. It seems as if it'd be very easy to say "I need to cancel today's bank robbery so I can read to the kids"...but much harder to say I need to limit the hours I volunteer...I should say no to that invitation...I need to step away from the computer...The laundry can wait...

Good, no harm intended, meant to benefit someone, stuff. A fellow mom in the group really struck a nerve with me when she said "There are so many things we do that are good, but are they the best?" Best. Best. Best. Hmmm. That's something to chew on.

What if I take a look at my calendar and to-do list right now and filter it through the lense of BEST. Best use of my time, best for my kids, best for my husband.

Taking 15 minutes to compose this blog feels good, I've had thoughts of best churning in my brain for 18 hours. It's good to get this in black and white, helps me work it out a little more in my brain. But now it's out, so being on this computer is probably no longer best...

8:30pm Hummel household goes to bed (Even the grown-ups, it's been a long week)

2:00am Luke comes to our bed

2-5:20am I attempt to share a pillow with a four year old and sleep with extra arms, legs, elbows and feet on me, under me, all around me

5:20am Lily comes into our room, she's had a bad dream and wants to crawl in bed...there is NO room!

5:23am After debate, Lily and I head upstairs and share a twin bed in Luke's room as opposed to the double bed in Lily's room (don't ask)

5:25-5:45am Attempt to get comfortable with Lily, KC and a half dozen stuffed animals in a twin bed...yes, there is an empty twin bed in the same room (again, don't ask)

5:50am After finally getting comfy, Luke comes upstairs sobbing that I left him downstairs and asks to crawl in bed with us...there is NO room!

6:00am Luke settles down and falls asleep in his own twin bed

8:10am Lily wakes up, and says Isn't KC a great dog? The day begins.

What I have described is not unusual in our house. In fact, it used to happen nightly and now only happens once or twice a week, so although it is exhausting, frustrating and down right embarrassing to admit I allow, we are making progress. One day I'll blog about our sleeping arrangements from their birth to age 3. This is why I laugh when I hear non-parents say "I'll never..." because I assure you, I thought I would never...

We ate out last night which is a rare treat for mid-week. I love to try new places and we had a coupon for a free pizza from a neighborhood pizza place. Sitting there in the booth, I had one of those perfectly ordinary moments where I just stopped and tried to soak it in, take a mental picture. I wanted to freeze time, or at least slow it down a bit...

My two handsome redheads across the table chatting about Luke's desire to play baseball when he grows up as long as he can still live at home.

Lily draped over my shoulders, smelly like a school-kid, planting kisses on my cheek. This type of random, public affection is very un-Lily-like.

Life can be so hard. But sometimes it feels just like my fairytale.

I've been ignoring a laundry basket full of clean laundry for about 3 days now. It's been teetering on the arm of the couch, held up by the throw pillows. Folding and putting away laundry is my least favorite chore. And it's so easy to make a pile in a basket and move the basket from place to place to avoid facing it. I'm ashamed to admit that last night as I thought through my "to do" list for today rather than thinking Fold and put away laundry I thought, Move basket to bedroom before small group. Shameful. But this morning, with Luke on one side of the room and me in the kitchen, the basket just toppled over. He looked at me with huge eyes and said "I didn't do it!" and I knew he hadn't. It just spilled. Everywhere. It fell in such a way that clean laundry scattered at least 5 feet in each direction. No way to ignore it now. I had two options, scoop it up and cram it back in the basket, or sit down and sort it, fold it, stack it...address the mess.

I chose the latter. I sat down and made neat piles of folded laundry: a David pile, an Erin pile, a Luke PJ pile, a Luke school clothes pile, a Lily PJ pile, a Lily school clothes pile...even a Molly pile. (Molly is the darling little girl we pass on Lily's clothes to, Luke appreciates Molly taking the too-small girl clothes off our hands so he isn't the recipient!) Anyway, once I began to sort things one at a time the pile didn't feel nearly so overwhelming. It still hasn't made it upstairs, but it will, and it feels do-able.

I often handle my life's messes like my clean laundry. Clean laundry is easy to ignore. It's not stinky or wet, it's available when I need it...I can just stuff it in a basket, hide it when company comes. My life's laundry basket is stuffed full right now: the need for a second income compiled with the mommy guilt of working vs. staying home, low self-esteem, fatigue, wife guilt because of fatigue (you know what I mean?), mistakes I've made lately, guilt over the mistakes I've made lately. This laundry isn't stinky or wet, it's not "dirty," I can excuse away or justify why it's in my life and even soothe myself by saying everyone has this type of mess lying around, "little" messes...manageable, easily hidden, things I can stuff in a basket and move from room to room so that no one sees them.

There are some messes that can't be ignored, like huge carpet stains or a sink overflowing with dirty dishes...those messes I give almost immediate attention because they are not easily hidden from others. They must be cleaned up quickly, but the "little" messes that I can tuck away and keep stuffed down are really just one spill away from being a big mess. Once the big mess happens, I have two choices...sort it out and address each pile or stuff it back in the basket. I've done a little of both in the past. But what if, I begin to recognize the warning signs of a basket on the verge of a spill...tears that come too easily, trouble falling asleep, trouble waking up, a sharp tongue, a feeling of distance. Better yet, what if I never let things make it to the basket, what if I just put them in their place from the start?

I have yet to find any mess in my life that God doesn't want to help me sort, fold and put away. He isn't my genie in a bottle, I can't wish away my troubles...but I can take each pile to Him and seek His help in sorting it out. Some piles are easily sorted, others take more time. But just by dumping out the basket, bringing each to light helps the mess feel less overwhelming.

Growing up in a little baptist church, I used to memorize my weekly Bible verse on the very short drive to church so I could regurgitate the words in Sunday School and earn a sticker. Now I know why God wants His Word hidden in my heart and real scripture memorization is so important. So many of my messes find root in my feelings. My feelings are not truth. My feelings can be deceptive. If I trust my feelings, I continue to fill up a basket of mess until it spills all over my floor, and effects everyone around me. His truth cleans up messes, puts them in their place.

If I want to prevent a spill, I need to sort out my basket. Right now I've got a big pile of guilt in my basket: guilt over not working, guilt over potentially working, guilt over stupid mistakes, guilt, guilt, guilt. I'm like David in Psalms 38 My guilt has overwhelmed me, like a burden to heavy to bear. But the book of Hebrews tells me I have a great high priest (Jesus Christ) and I can draw near God with a sincere heart with full assurance and can be cleansed from a guilty conscience. So that pile I should always take straight to God. Doesn't need to go in a basket for further sorting, wallowing, self-loathing...doesn't need to be neatly folded and put in a drawer for me to wear later. He paid for that pile. And I move onto the next pile - fatigue. This pile is a little different. This pile needs some sorting. Through His truth I must filter what in my life needs to be eliminated, what needs to be revised, what needs to be done differently. He offers rest and strength so I can be certain my continual fatigue is not what He wants for me, and I shouldn't ignore it. If I start with His truth, I can begin to clean up the mess. And so on, and so on.

As I began making changes to the look of my blog yesterday, I realized the "Blogs I Read" list to the right of the screen (you can go ahead and take a look if you'd like)...is about a tenth of the number of blogs I actually read. I am constantly finding new blogs of interest, like this great guy who visited Elevation Sunday and gave us some very helpful feedback...and upon reading his, I found his wife who had this very funny post. That's how blogs work, I find one and then another and then another and so on...I may visit some daily or weekly or monthly or somewhere in between. There are also about a dozen cool chicks and fellas that I have the pleasure of knowing more personally who I've failed to add as I become a frequent blog reader so I have a dilemma...do I now take well over an hour of my life and add the links, or just delete this outdated list??? Stay tuned...

In honor of my love of fall, I have given the blog a new fall look! The beach sand is summery, but I like it, it's staying...for now! I plan to go sort through my pics and see what fall-ish pics I can find.

After taking Lily to school and getting Luke settled with breakfast and a cartoon, I tossed his school clothes on the couch and headed to the shower. I had a dentist appointment so I needed to be ready-ready before I took him to school. Usually I'm just half-ready...hair pulled back, no make up...but at the very least, real pants (as opposed to the pajama pants that are often worn to Lily's school). My getting ready is a progression...to drop Lily off, I'm just dressed enough to be able to maintain minimal dignity if I were to get a flat tire or be pulled over for speeding. Luke's drop off requires walk-in so I attempt to match and have brushed my teeth and hair. But I digress, today I had to be ready-ready since I had an appointment. Shower required (I usually skip the early a.m. shower because I'm trying to begin a routine of working out after taking Luke to school, I said trying.) While I was in the shower I heard him yell out. I immediately knew what the problem was...he couldn't get his pajama top off. I don't know why pajama shirt neck-holes are smaller, but for some reason, he struggles to get his pj shirt off every morning. Usually I'm in the room with him, he grunts, I yank the shirt off and he's able to finish dressing himself. But this morning, I was in the shower. He walked in the bathroom very frustrated to see me unavailable for his request. So I talked him through it, step by step led him to take his own shirt off. Because the neck-hole is smaller he has to take it off in a different manner than his usual one-handed over the head pull that men (even little men) do. I talked him through freeing his hands then using two hands to pull the shirt over his head...and he literally scampered out of the bathroom with quite a grin of pride. My first thought was, Why didn't I ever take the time to teach him before, rather than just swooping in and doing it at first grunt? You know the ol' give me a fish I'll eat for a day, teach me to fish I'll eat for life? (or something like that?)


My next thought...and stick with me, sometimes I feel like God is in the shower. He's still around, still able to see me through the steamy glass but His hands are busy. I know He is able, so I feel like maybe He's just not quite willing to help when I make my grunt for help...for the same problem I've been grunting for everyday. I've been feeling like that lately. I never doubt His presence or His love, I've just been struggling with feeling like I've been left "unattended," to fix "this" on my own. The second I heard Luke cry out today, I knew it was the pj shirt. We go through this everyday and I honestly get tired of hearing him fuss over it daily. I wonder if God feels the same way, I've been crying out over the same thing over and over. So there must be something He's trying to teach me. If what I ask for is not against His will or what I know to be true in His word, there must be a greater good in Him not just "fixing" it for me. He's a much better parent than I am, so if I was willing to give Luke the step by step directions to lead him to a solution for his problem, I believe God is willing to do the same for me. Maybe this isn't the most spiritually accurate thing you'll read today, at least for your sake I hope not, but this is seriously what I grappled with this morning as I finished my shower. I loved Luke no less as I directed him to a solution rather than just fixing his problem, in fact it took more of my time and compassion to talk him through the shirt issue. And he was so proud when he felt the success. God could, in an instant, "fix" any problem in my life...His word says nothing is too hard for Him...but He loves me enough to take the time to lead me to lasting solutions and the joy that comes from that successful journey.

Luke will quite possibly yell out or grunt or fuss tomorrow when it's time to take off that pj shirt, but I can remind him of today's success. And I'll be reminded that my success is sure, if I listen and follow directions.