What if...

So they say long distance relationships never work out. Not sure who the "they" is or why they always have so much to say, but I'm determined to prove them wrong. Okay, so David and I are just 4 hours apart and have been for only 30 hours, and it is a 10 year marriage I'm talking about, maybe not quite what the long distance naysayers had in mind.

Regardless, I'm sending a little LD-PDA to my main man. D - thanks for being such a great hubby and daddy and letting me take off on just a few days notice to be a part of this great ministry conference (more on that later!). Without a flinch, a scowl, a grumble, a gripe...maybe just a puppy-dog-eyed pout as we said goodbye, but I know that's just 'cause ya love me. And we're best buds. Being apart is not our thing, we're tight, peas in a pod and all that jazz. Thanks for tolerating my color-coded daily notes, as if you don't know bathtime comes before bedtime (like you'd ever bathe our children while they were sleeping). Thanks for rearranging your schedule which I know only creates more work for you at the end of the day. Thanks for saying everything is going fine when I call to check in.

So thanks to PMC and his hook-up for the tickets, thanks to Jessi for asking me to tag along, thanks to Elevation for supporting our venture, thanks to Janet and Gina for filling the gaps (and painting solo)..but when it all comes down to it, I wouldn't be here if David didn't have my back. You know, wind beneath my wings, or something less nauseating.

Babe, you are my first ministry.

More so than any other time I can remember, in the past year I have really struggled with "purpose." Maybe it began the day Lily started kindergarten, Luke in preschool, and the enemy had a new weapon with which to attack. "Free" time, the 4 hours a day I'm childless.

What can I do with that time? Work. Work makes sense. Money is always so tight. Work. Gotta work. Hard to find PT work for just those 4 hours a day. Work full time? No, not a solution after all, at least not yet, not this season. Okay, what? What? What? Volunteer. Help others. School, church, lots to be done. Great, but there's not a paycheck with my name on it, am I as valuable to my family? Isn't this supposed to be easier? Four hours a day, well, really just 3 hours and 35 minutes if you count that drop off and pick up time. 3 hours and 35 minutes. What's a mom to do? Surely, I'm not meant to just rest or refresh or spend time with no agenda. That would be lazy, unproductive...I need a to-do list, I need to see check marks beside completed tasks. I need to feel needed. I need to feel purpose. I need someone to pat me on the back.

Big sigh. I am so tired. And I still struggle with purpose. And I'm ashamed to admit that my obsession with what "purposeful" thing to do with my 3 hours and 35 minutes spills over to the whole of my day, making even the meaningful stuff less meaningful.

Yesterday, David had a long day at work. Well, let's get real, David has a lot of long days at work. He's busy, he's tired. It's hard work to be the good guy. The guy that won't leave others high and dry, the guy that stays until the job is done. It's hard to be the good guy. So I call and leave him encouraging messages. I'll send an email with a :) as the subject line and fill it with words of praise and appreciation.

Everyday I stand at the end of the driveway and wait for Lily's bus to drop her off. I can't help but grin from ear to ear as she runs towards me. She still does, runs towards me every day as if we've been apart for weeks. I'll ask how her day was and she'll say "fine" and I'll want more but I know it'll come later. As she eats dinner or bathes, or stalls bedtime, she'll give me a snippet here and there about a new song in Spanish class or a new game from gym.

I'll help a boy named Luke feed and care for a fish named Luke. And everyday on the drive to and from school, we have deep conversations about everything and nothing, from theology to science to mechanics. I answer his every question and only say "I don't know" if I really don't know, and in that case, I'll at least hypothosize. We talk about how strong God is and how strong Daddy is and how both God and Daddy are great.

Man, how do I ever let the enemy of my soul convince me that my life lacks purpose? I may be the only person who speaks a word of encouragement to my husband today. I will be the only one anxiously waiting for Lily to return from school. I am most certainly the only one who daily shares deep conversations with my very shy boy. And I pray for them, I cover my family in prayer for protection, hearts to know and love Jesus, lives full of purpose. I could be the only person praying for them, the only one going to battle for them.

How dare he speak lack of purpose into my life, how dare I listen. Shame on me for believing it. And shame on me for believing it again tomorrow.

Luke twisted his ankle yesterday, jumping off the swing. The boy, that is, cause you know, fish don't have ankles, nor do they swing. I know "twisted" is not a formal diagnosis, but at this point I am attempting to let "time" do her thing because she charges a lot less than the hospital. I still have a $300 medical bill from October when xrays confirmed that yes, Lily had injured her arm (boy, was that helpful info) but since it wasn't a break, no additional attention needed, just time. Because Luke is limping (even when he doesn't know I'm watching), I know something is going on, but we'll skip the xray and go straight to the medicine of time because I'm pretty sure it's not broken (no swelling, no discoloration). But keeping a 5 year old off his feet with one leg elevated is like, well, everything else that's really hard to get a 5 year old to do.

When I first started blogging a little less than a year ago, one of my primary motivations was the fact I was sending a weekly email to about 40 people back home in FL to update on our transition, family milestones and Elevation's growth. I started the emails as soon as we moved and continued them for a year. But the list kept growing and I was losing track and constantly being told Add Aunt Such-n-Such and Cousin What's-His-Name to your email...the weekly email became a bit overwhelming. So I switched to a blog, I could post what I wanted, when I wanted and whoever, whenever could check it out. And although the blog had random family stuff here and there, in the beginning, there was also that ever important "Weekly Update." It didn't last long. I'm not sure when or why but I think just because life moves at break-neck speed and posting here and there about silly incidents and the occasional deep thought was much easier than attempting an all inclusive "update." So formal updates don't happen much anymore. I find it much more manageable to post little stories here and there that give the same info...you just have to keep up, put the pieces of the puzzle together. Now, with all that said, Pastor shared some wonderful news from the stage Sunday and my mind jolted back to those weekly update emails. I wonder if I could dig back through and find the first one I sent. I wonder how this number would compare: 2000. That's the number of lost people who have accepted Jesus as Savior in the 2 years of Elevation Church. 2000 people who didn't know Jesus, 2000 people who weren't in a relationship with Him, 2000 people who were captive to sin, 2000 people who may have died and gone to hell...2000, set free. 2000 heavenly celebrations.

2000. But how many more haven't been reached?

Life is so hard. Is it okay for me to say that? This isn't a pity party, not a poor me post. I'm blessed, beyond measure. But life is hard. Everywhere. There are sick kids and broken marriages and financial strain and abuse and addiction and life is just hard. People lie, people hurt you, people fail; even good people, even Christ-followers. Happens all the time. Those things are a part of life no matter where you live, who you love, what you do for a living, how much money you do, or don't, have. Life is hard no matter what. I miss home. I miss my family. I thought life would get easier as I got older, you know? I thought I'd have money in the bank, I'd only surround myself with people I could trust, I'd no longer care so much about what others think of me...I thought life would get easier as I got older. I was wrong.

But 2000 people. Wow. God is active, God is moving in my city and all over the world. I want to be involved. Life is hard, but lives are changing. I want my life to count. I want hard to be worth it.

I really have no time to post but Gina won't be here for about 10 minutes, the kids are playing next door and I am dressed and ready on time :) so why not push my luck by posting so I'm not really quite ready when the Windstar chariot arrives?

Great day today: beautiful weather, lots of down time, excited to hang out with some great ladies tonight as we celebrate Baby Evan...and his mommy Nicole, dying to dive into some strawberry shortcake.

Oh, big news: Lily had Field Day today! You know, three-legged race, baton relay, tug-of-war...Field Day! At least that's what we did when I was in school. I wouldn't have a clue what Lily's FD consisted of...what exactly does "fun stuff" mean? Oh, well...I loved FD...non-athletic as I am, I love to play, still call my casual clothes "play clothes" (which drives David a little nuts).

Hey Jessi, what about a Field Day picnic? Nothing says team bonding like tying your leg to another's!

Okay, gotta run. Kids to retrieve from next door and then, much like a baton relay, I've got to meet David to pass them off!

Luke and I have gotten very attached to the little fish. Despite his casual mention of the toilet funeral, Luke, the boy, is very compassionate and worries about his fish getting too hot, too cold, too much to each, not enough to eat, etc. Last night, I turned on the aquarium light so Luke, the boy, could watch Luke, the fish, until he (the boy) fell asleep. I assured him that I would come back in and turn the light off. After a few minutes, Luke, the boy, turned the light off himself because he was concerned Luke, the fish, couldn't fall asleep.

This is what it sounded like as Lily and I left Luke's room last night:

Goodnight, Luke. Goodnight Luke.
Goodnight, Luke. Goodnight, Luke.

Goodnight, Luke. (from boy to fish as we walked out)

David did not say good night to the fish.

This morning, Luke, the boy, was concerned that Luke, the fish, would be lonely while he was at school. I assured him I would check in on the fish regularly (just as I did last thing before I went to bed and first thing when I woke up). He told me to tell the fish that he would be home from school soon. He said, "Mom, I want you to say this: Luke, Luke will be home soon." Okay, buddy, I will. Only I didn't. Not because I'm above talking to a fish, because believe me, we've talked, but because today is allergy shot and dance day for Lily so Luke won't be coming straight home after I pick him up and I didn't want to lie to Luke, the fish.

But just so we're not all too confused, Luke gave Luke a middle name. Duke.

On the drive home from church Sunday, Luke started up a conversation about pets...I should have changed the subject. He'd just found out some friends had added a pet bunny to their family, and he wanted to know when he could have his own pet. He does NOT consider the 50lb dog that shares our home to be his pet. He sadly stated that he really wants a cat but knew it would never happen since Lily is very allergic. His second choice was a fish. Well, like all good mothers, guilt and fear often fuel my decision making process (afterall, he may grow up resenting his sister if he can't have the pet he really wants because of her allergies...quick, get that boy a fish!). LONG story short, today Luke is the proud owner of a new blue betta fish...named Luke. Unlike many bettas that live in a simple glass vase, Luke, the fish, has a very cool aquarium complete with heated water and fake plants, purchased by Luke, the boy, with his very own birthday money. Luke, the fish, has survived for 3 hours under our care, wooo-hooo! Luke, the boy, seems bored with him already. Aside from using one of my favorite kitchen utensils to transfer the fish, things are going well. Luke, the fish, seems content, swimming around vigorously. Luke, the boy, has already described to the next door neighbor how he gets to flush him down the toilet if he dies.

I just deleted over 40 drafts from my draft file. Dating back to January, but many within just the past month while I've been so scarce in my posting. I have started several posts in the past week but nothing really "developed" so into the draft folder they go, to be worked on another time. Oh, well, just wanted to let you know I have been writing posts, you just haven't been reading them :)

-Friday night my mom cooked the best "zingers" I think I've ever had...that's what we call boneless buffalo chicken strips. Mmmmm, mmmm. There were only 2 left, so there was a odd moment at lunch the next day as David and I danced around the topic of who would get the leftovers. Not only did I let him have them, I convinced him I didn't even want them. Now you know, Buddy, I was totally going to eat those things :) And while on the topic of my mom's cooking, boy, are we gonna miss her.

-Saturday was the Saturday of all Saturdays. Rainy weather perfect for sleeping in, pjs till noon, ventured out only for a Sonic shake, back home for a chili dog. Great lazy Saturday.

-Sunday (today) is Amy's 3oth birthday, I just hung up the phone with her. Glad to hear she had a great day. I didn't get to see her today, but I am certain she looks as fabulous at 30 as she has the other 20+ years I have known her.
Another highlight of the day was playing frisbee in the backyard with David and the kids. Who knew throwing a plastic disc could be so much fun? Probably all the people that play frisbee, but for this uncoordinated, non-athletic gal, it was news to me.

Luke: Mom, it feels like poison is in my nose.

Me: What!?!

Luke: Poison.

Me: Luke, did you put something up your nose?!?

Luke: No, it just feels like there is poison in it.

Me: Son, what do you mean? What does it feel like?

Lily (in background): Poison, Mom, he's saying poison. It feels like poison.

Luke: Poison, it feels like poison is in my nose.

Me (very concerned, examining his nose): Buddy, I don't understand what you're saying. I don't know what "poison" feels like. Just tell me how you nose feels.

Luke (slow and deliberate): Mom, it feels like a tiger is biting my nose.



Oh, so that's how poison feels.

I just haven't had much blog life in me lately. But here are few random things that coulda, woulda, shoulda been developed into singular posts but will become bullet points instead.

• Luke used some of his birthday money (early) to buy a junior golf set...a real set, not a toy...that clarifer is important to him. Today, our first sunny day in several, he headed outside to golf and said I could be famous at this. And the "could be" seemed contingent upon his willingness to accept fame, not his skill level. He was confident he could be famous, should he choose to be. I like that.
• I have 2 of 8 working light bulbs in my bathroom. TWO of EIGHT! Explains why my eyeshadow seems a little to heavy lately, huh?. The living room is down to 3/5, Lily's bedroom, 1/3, the breakfast nook 0/1...Why is my lack of bulbs noteworthy? David sells electrical supplies. Yes, that includes bulbs.
• Mama's in the house! Home-cooked meals nightly...full pantry...and fresh, clean laundry magically appears stacked and folded at the foot of our bed :) Kids (David and I included!) are happy and spoiled, life is good.
• Spring has sprung! As I sit here, my back door and kitchen windows are wide open...love it!