What if...

Break from school. Break from alarm clocks. Break from schedules. Break from blogging? Yes, please.

I thought summer would present the opportunity for more posting, but instead, the blog feels like a drag. If a marriage can end because one partner "falls out of love," then surely I can break up with my blog because I have fallen out of like. I used to like blogging, it's been a fun way to chronicle life, and I have found it to be very therapeutic. I've never kept a diary, my journaling is inconsistent, and so my 2 years of blogging (I started on my 29th birthday, tomorrow is my 31st) is very meaningful to me, like a collection of home movies. I love to go back and read the posts that chronicle simple, daily events, like silly things the kids have said and done, things I might have forgotten by now otherwise. I'd like to print them all out one day.

But for now, keeping up the blog feels burdensome and distracting, so I'm taking a little summer break. But I think this break up is like a Ross and Rachel break up, sooner or later, we'll get back together.

I am not a sporty gal, nor do I enjoy breaking a sweat for any other reason, so only for my baby-daddy would I gladly spend a very hot, bright afternoon like this...

I guess I shouldn't have been so presumptuous as to end that last post with "guess I'm back to blogging." I have in fact not been back to blogging. Instead, I have been back to sleeping in, visiting the public library, hanging out poolside with G$ and the gang, staying up late, and counting down to our annual Florida trip. Our summer is off to a great start, and sadly, it's already flying by, I can't believe it's already Friday!

Hope you're enjoying your summer...stay cool, today is gonna be a hot one!

My intention to spend a few days blog-pondering submission and what it means in our home was delightfully derailed by a weekend of house guests. As it should be, the computer sat somewhat idle for several days as we enjoyed catching up with family. David's sister, Erica, and her husband, David, and their two children, planned to spend 2 nights with us on the way to the Smokey Mountains. (Yes, with two Davids, an Erin, and an Erica under one roof, things can get confusing!) Their plans changed (Uncle Rich's loss was our gain), and 2 nights turned to 4 which gave us a wonderful opportunity to catch up and of course do what families do best: organize our lives around good food! You know it's a great weekend when your greatest stress is trying to time the pizza delivery to coincide with television programming. Last night's hurry and get on your comfy clothes before Hannah Montana @ 7:30 followed by Food Network Challenge @ 8, with a brief visit from the pizza guy, had the children and adults equally excited. It was the perfect way to wind down a fun, low key visit. And low key would apply to all the moments that did not involve the chainsaw.

But now, with a quiet house and two worn out kids, I guess I'm back to blogging.

I just finished reading the book What's Submission Got to Do With It? with my fave group of book-readin' ladies, L7. Well, let me be honest and admit, with the break-neck speed of the past few weeks, I didn't read as diligently as I should have. But as always, I found the group's discussion times to be as beneficial as anything anyone else could write. As we wrapped up our discussion on the book, I realized most of our conversations had centered around our day to day application of submission. I also began to feel a tug on my heart to write a post about submission. Big sigh. Submission, really? Do I really want to go there - here?

As I contemplated sharing some of my thoughts, I was very hesitant. As hard as it is to vulnerably admit weakness in a public forum, I think there is significant risk in implying an area of strength as well. Will others begin to watch, pick apart, judge my words, my actions, try to "catch" me not doing what I'm professing to do? Quite possibly. So to subdue my fear, let me just say up front, I am far from the perfect wife. I do not have a perfect marriage. You have already, or will indeed, hear or see me say or do something absolutely contradictory to what I believe about submission. Call it hypocrisy if that's your bag. I call it trying. After 11 years of marriage to my perfect match, I have learned a few perfect lessons from the perfect Teacher; it's my application that is often imperfect. And in a marriage that is still relatively young, I'm sure I have a long way to go. But I live daily in a marriage improved by the benefit and blessing of trying.

For many years I allowed the world, both the big world "out there" and my own little world, to misrepresent what God intends for the submissive wife. To quote the book I mentioned above, "submission is represented as repressive servanthood, rather than a voluntary desire to empower a husband's leadership." Repressive servanthood? No thank you. Empowering my husband? Yes, please! But since I bought much of the misguided-mess the world was selling, submission was not a word I was comfortable with in the early years of our relationship. I knew our marriage was not exactly aligned to a scriptural picture of headship and helper, but with a passive, indecisive husband, and a bossy, strong-willed wife, weren't we just being ourselves? If it worked for us, wasn't it okay? From the selfish tactics I employed to "benignly" maintain control to the loving ways the Lord has opened my eyes, I could probably write my own book on this journey to submisison, and it would be a work in progress. But based on the conversations we as a small group of women were having, it seems what we really want to know from one another is practical application: what does submission really look like?

I am an opinionated, strong-willed, short-fused, 30-year-old Christ-loving woman. I have two young children and a husband on his own journey to fulfill his call to lead. As uncomfortable as submission can be for me, leadership can be for him, so I'm thankful we're in this together.

So what does submission look like in my home? I'll share over the next few days...

My "little" cousin Courtney just had a birthday. Nineteen? Ugh, I hope I'm off a year or three because I can't see how that could be right. Tonight as I was sorting through drafts and deleting unfinished posts, I came across this conversation from January. Not sure what direction I was headed with the original post, or why I never published it, but either way, it was one of those moments I'm glad I took the time to answer more than "I don't know."

Lily: Will Courtney still be in college when I'm in college, or will she be a grown up?

Me: By the time you're in college, Courtney will be my age, and she'll probably have a little one herself. And you'll love to play with her little ones, the way she loves to play with you, the way I loved to play with her when she was just a little girl.

Lily: Who's she going to marry?

Me: Well, no one knows; no one but God. He's made Courtney a perfect match, and she may already know him and she may not. Either way, she'll find him. God made someone just for her, with all the special things Courtney loves and wants and needs. And she's special, just for him. He's made you a perfect match too, and Luke, too. And you may already know them, or you may not, but God made them special just for you. Even though you won't get married for a very long time, you have a perfect match somewhere in the world, someone God created with you in mind. They could live in North Carolina, or Florida, or...

Luke: New York City or Mexico.

Me: Yep, even New York City or Mexico.

Luke: You found your perfect match, Mama.

Me: I sure did.

Lily (sounding annoyed): You know he's talking about himself, he thinks he's your perfect match.

Luke: No I'm not. It's Daddy.

Holly's post about the advance preparations she's made to help restaurant trips be more more successful this summer got me to thinking about things I've done to occupy, entertain, and soothe restless children over the past 7 years. One simple "trick" that has stuck for us is the "question game," as we call it. It comes in handy as both a minor distraction while waiting on our food in restaurants, or to burn miles of time on road trips. We started when the kids were just toddlers, so the questions were simple like "Luke, tell me 5 things that are red," or "Lily, tell me 5 things that are cold." As they've grown, our "questions" (although technically they really aren't questions) have increased in difficulty. Words that rhyme, things that need water to grow, words that begin with the letter "s," words that begin with the blend "st." The possibilities are endless. It may not sound all that exciting, but with the unpredictability of kids, we always have a good time (or at least enjoy the break from fussing). On more than one occasion I have kept an SUV full of restless children occupied as they anxiously awaited a turn to "tell me 5 things..."

Inevitably, Lily and Luke will ask for a turn being the quiz master, and although I'm always up for a round of the question game, I seem to be assigned the most ridiculous tasks like, "Mom, tell me 17 things that rhyme with donut."

Not quite a year ago, I picked up an unexpected habit. I don't think it's a bad habit, but not something I readily admit to, until today. I tried it just once, for a special occasion, and then before I knew it, I was hooked. Not everyday, but at least 3-4 times a week.

No more pencils, no more books, no more students' dirty looks!


It's official, summer vacation is here...for me at least. Too bad I still have to set that 6:11 a.m. alarm for the kiddos. But not for long!