What if...

If you're a faithful "What If" reader, and you've paid any attention what so ever, I shouldn't have to tell you that last fall held some difficult times for me. For no reason and many reasons, all jumbled together, I struggled with finding joy in my day to day life. I don't know if I should call it depression, which is not a term I throw around lightly. I don't use that term to mean "sad," it was more like: don't want to get out of bed, more bad days than good days for months on end, can't remember what it feels like to not feel like this. As a believer, I know that happiness may be circumstantial, but joy is not. So where was my joy? Try as I may, I just couldn't will myself out of the pit. And I tried hard to just ignore it because I had no good reason to feel so bad. And if you're a friend of mine and didn't know, don't worry about it, I'm just that good at faking it. It was months before I let David know.

I still don't have a firm grasp on what was going on with me for that 4 or 5 month period, but as one who over analyzes and "what ifs" and questions and second guesses everything...I have decided to just let go of "why" and praise God for His rescue. I say this because, I feel good again. I am sleeping well at night, and as I sit on the edge of the bed each morning, I realize I am more annoyed with my alarm clock than I am dreading the day ahead, which had become such a familiar burden. I am content in deep places, I am satisfied, I'm really okay. My good days far outnumber my bad; in fact, I don't remember my last "bad" day. Well, correction, I indeed remember my last bad day, but circumstances deemed it a bad day. It wasn't a bad-for-no-good-reason bad day,which is what I had become accustomed too. My laugh is back. In fact, I find myself laughing too much, as in laughing an inappropriate amount or at inappropriate times. I find myself laughing so hard and so often that I am slightly annoyed at the sound of my own laughter. If you have recently been in a social situation where you found my laughter to be a bit much, you'll have to forgive me, I'm making up for lost time. I often laugh out of the blue over something I heard a day or a week or a month ago. Fear of little people...seals...Japanese whaling...things that are NOT funny, but you'll find me laughing about them...I have my reasons :) I just can't describe how light my lightness feels following the tremendous weight.

Okay, I've gotten way off track. For a couple days now I've been asking why or how or when? What caused the shift, when did I make the turn, why am I feeling so much better? I don't have an answer but this morning, my devotional led me to Psalm 40 and I think I'm beginning to catch on:

2 He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
out of the mud and mire;
He set my feet on a rock
and gave me a firm place to stand.

3 He put a new song in my mouth...

So, here's where I am now: wallowing in great appreciation and awareness that He did a work in me, He did. I couldn't help myself. Try as I may, I could not will myself better. He picked me up, dusted me off and set me on solid ground. He put a new song in my mouth...which is a good thing because I couldn't even remember the words to my old song. For months I would say, God I can't remember what it feels like to just feel like me. But you know, I'm still not her. Follow me: my God is too good and loving a God to just pick me up and return me to where I was, instead He picked me up and moved me to a better place. Rather than reinstate me to my former self, which is all I asked for, He gave me a new song. Oh, that gets me.

So what's different now? Just me, nothing else. Almost everything that was a part of my life 6 months ago still is: same struggles, same relationships, same sameness. But I changed, He changed me.

1. What a bummer that I left last night's yummy leftovers on the counter.
2. If I had a gun in my vehicle during carpool line I would shoot all the cheaters, I feel that angry about it. I would possibly spare the children in the vehicle, but you know, cheaters usually spawn cheaters, so I'm not so sure.
3. I may regret buying the off brand dishwashing liquid.
4. Luke just tried to sneak up on me; he couldn't sneak up on a glass of water, poor fellow.
5. It's really cold today, at least it was this morning, brrrr.
6. It took Andy longer to get over Luke's fall than it did Luke, that's friendship (or a guilty conscience) but I choose to believe the first.
7. I smell the roast in the crock pot. Yum.
8. Yesterday was Kyle's 20th birthday. Wow. He's really a grown up. Sniff, sniff. Time flies.
9. Rats, I didn't get Kyle a card in the mail, I have been so BAD at that since our move. I am way behind, I still have January birthdays to acknowledge.
10. I registered Luke for kindergarten yesterday. Big sigh. One day I'll wake up and he'll be 20.

...watched someone go through something extremely difficult, and the integrity and humility with which they conducted themselves was so God-honoring that you were left painfully humbled by an awareness of your own selfishness and pride?

I have.

Well done, Run.

I started my day at 5-ish.

All the events of my day stacked up back to back, several overlapped.

Twelve different children have been in my home (not all of them at one time).

I sat through a difficult, challenging team meeting and have many things to process.

I ate dinner at a restaurant with six children (and it actually went pretty well!)

David and I made a tough decision about an area of leadership and I thought I'd feel relieved for the closure, but not so much.

I have quite a headache.

I am so ready for bed.

I just reviewed my last post and it made me laugh. If I thought 3 1/2 hours of priming furniture on Thursday led to messy trouble, I just had no idea what I was in store for on Friday! Hmmmm...eleven hours...white primer traded in for colors like Azalea, Sour Apple, Calypso Blue and Harlequin...it's on my steering wheel!?...Luke is down one pair of shoes (lost in a sea off spilled Calypso)...primer spill in the back of the Explorer...sore arms and legs...goodbye Crocs...what a day! But it was a labor of love. Today, I was the large group teacher in Quest which is rare, but I now know it was a God-thing, not just a last-minute-fill-in thing. I had the pleasure of interacting with all my "characters," Casey the Closet, Grover the Game Box, and so on...the anticipation I felt as I awaited the arrival of our little ones and the excitement as the kids walked in and met eyes (yes, the furniture has eyes too!) with the set was so worth the hours. I needed to spend a day reveling in the end result of the hard work. I'd do it all again in a heartbeat, but I hope I never have too!

BIG thanks to Kelly who spent 8 hours of her day off with me, and to Lindsey and Sarah for helping me close out the long day. By hour 9, I don't even think I was friendly anymore. And what can I say to Chris and his crew at Innovative Installations, Inc.? Not only did they build our great pieces, they also let me invade their space for almost 15 hours total and were so helpful and gracious, even about the Calypso Blue!

Now for a complete topic change, let me tell you more about David's Dr's office swap (two posts ago). The urgent care office sent him a personal, hand written thank you note. Seriously. They thanked him for giving his spot to the child and expressed sincere thanks on behalf of the mother and staff. Is that great or what?

I did a little painting today. I like to paint. Notice, I said like. What keeps me from loving to paint is the fact that I'm so bad at it. The finished product looks fine but the process is hardly worth it. First, I have a little ADD issue so by the time I prepare the area, gather the materials, pour the paint, and make my first few strokes, I'm over it. Done. Ready to move on. Now, because I have a strong work ethic and enough self control, I'm able to stick with it until the job is done (or in today's case, until the preschooler needs to be picked up). The bigger problem is the mess I make. You know those people who can paint an entire room or piece of furniture and not get a drop on them (I'm thinking of Amy C right about now)...I am NOT one of those people. After a half hour of painting, I appear as if I've wrestled a paint monster...and lost. Now imagine how I look after I've been at it for hours. Paint in the hair, on the face, covering the hands, smeared on the clothes and dripped on my shoes. Today I had the pleasure of doing this in front of a half dozen men who had to be getting a kick out of my harder-than-it-should-be paint experience. I can only imagine how hard they laughed when I was out of earshot! Regardless of their inevitable laugther, let me say thanks to Chris for making our fun and functional Quest furniture and Cody for setting me up for as successful a painting experience as a mess like me can hope for!

I'll be back at it tomorrow, wish me luck!

First, I feel the need to apologize to all of you who are sick of hearing me *gush* about my husband, but then I think, whatthecrapever (as Mindy would say). Seriously, if you're tired of hearing how fab I think my David is, you'll have to find another blog because I hope I never stop having reasons to show him bloggy-lovin.' So you can find another blog, but don't find another blog right now...read this, really, what a guy!

Here's the set up: David has been sick for about two weeks with "the crud." He's been pretty miserable and believe me when I say, he is no fun to be around when he's sick...and since we've lived in NC, he seems to get sick often. Usually in the evenings, he's feeling his worst, just when I'm about to pull my hair out. He finally decided yesterday that it was time to see a doctor so after putting in nearly a full work day, he made a trip to our local urgent care. We have a clinic within walking distance that I pass multiple times a day and I can tell you that between this particular crud and the flu, the office is PACKED, all day everyday. After waiting just over an hour, David was finally called back. But as he went to the back and began his process of checking vitals and giving info, he couldn't stop thinking about that mother and child waiting in the lobby. You see, just before he'd gone back, a woman with a sick child had come into the office. David said the little boy was pretty out of it at first but then began to hold his ear and cry in pain. So as David finally began his process to see the doctor , he stopped the nurse and asked if he could go back out into the waiting room and let the mother and child take his place. After repeatedly asking David if he was sure and then going and discussing it with the mother, the swap was made. David returned to the waiting room and the child was seen in his place. And he didn't get the next spot in line, he got the child's spot, 5-6 people later. So after another 45 minutes or so, he finally saw the doctor. In the meantime, he said the entire waiting room knew what he'd done and were very appreciative. I'm sure they were glad to have the crying child out of there! Of course the mother thanked him repeatedly as well.

David and I have been married nearly 10 years, together for a dozen. I love moments like this that take me by surprise. I know he's a good great man, but honestly, I don't know many people that would've done the same, myself included. Afterall, he was sick too, he'd worked all day, he felt miserable, surely it was only fair that he see the doctor first. That's life right? Maybe this isn't rescuing kittens from a burning building or pushing an old lady from the path of oncoming traffic, but he's a hero none the less. Take it from this mom of two little ones who has waited in my fair share of urgent care and ER waiting rooms...no one has ever given my child their spot in line, ever.

Maybe I'm getting a little too carried away, but I can't help but think of that commericial where the woman pulls someone from the curb just before a bus speeds by and someone who sees the act in turn performs a caring deed and so on and so on...who knows what chain reaction of selflessness started at David's deed. My sincerest hope is that one of those waiting room witnesses later saw David get in his car, noticed the Elevation Church sticker, connected David to the church, the church to Jesus and therefore, Christ received the glory. But no matter what the "big picture" is, I'm lucky to have that kind of man as my hubby and Luke and Lily are lucky to have that kind of daddy.

Today is Pastor's 28th birthday. Yes, I said 28. No, I don't mean my youth pastor. I know he is far too busy to be surfing blogs reading birthday tributes, so this post really isn't for him, it's for all of you. I want you to know why he's so special to our family, and if my family is special to you, I want Pastor Furtick to be special to you as well. I want you to pray for guidance and protection for him and his young family. I want you to pray a prayer of thanksgiving for bringing him into our lives.

This post could have the potential to be very long, so to combat that, I'm going to attempt to keep it short, even at the risk of under-explaining. Personally, as an Elevation attendee and Christ follower, I can honestly say that every time I sit under Pastor's teaching and preaching, I am challenged and inspired. Every time, every week, and in between when I revisit sermons on my iPod, I find myself wanting more. That's one reason I am certain of his true annointing, because I am a hyper personality that truly struggles to focus. That fact that his 50 minute sermons leave me wanting more only prove that I hear from God when I hear from Pastor.

Now, as David's wife (which is how many people at Elevation know me), I get a little more emotional when I think of Pastor Furtick. Moving here was scary but there were very specific promises God made me as a wife and mother, one concerning my children that I would have to accept on faith and one I would see with my own eyes. The latter was a promise for my husband. Now this is where I could let my words get away from me. I could probably write volumes on the subject of my husband and the spiritual gifts I have watched surface under Pastor's leadership. ......Ahhhh, I have typed and erased 10 sentences. I just don't know how to adequately express my heart on the matter, so rather than attempt to describe the many ways I see God working in my husband's life, I'll just say I'm thankful to my pastor for being God's catalyst. I know that David genuinely loves Pastor, and that in itself is a blessing. It is David's honor to humbly serve him for all the right reasons, and I so enjoy watching David use his gifts for God. His service to Pastor has lead to areas of blessing that every wife hopes to see for her husband, and I couldn't ask for a better leader to lead my husband who in turn leads our family.

So today, February 19th, I am reminded how very thankful I am that God ordained the life of Pastor Steven Furtick to collide with mine.

I've had a short fuse today. Not sure why, not a bad day...actually a beautiful, made for a trip to the playground kind of day. Regardless of how lovely the weather or even how wonderful it was to not wake up to an alarm clock, for some reason, I was just an outburst waiting to happen. And happen it did.

Word to the wise, you never know when my fuse is short, so I would not advise laughing at my 4 year old when he trips in Walmart as his short legs move faster than his body in an anxious attempt to rush to the toy section to spend his Valentine money from Pa & Grandma, and then stumbles down to his knees. I would not laugh if I were you, I wouldn't even chance a smirk. You will leave headless...I.Will.Bite.It.Off. Teenage boys beware, the cruel laughter that may go unpunished in the highschool locker room or cafeteria will be brought to light and scolded harshly (and loudly). Your attempts to demean another human being will lead to your own demise. You will leave red faced, you will duck down the nearest aisle for safety from the stares of others as you find yourself on the losing end of a short-fused mama. My precious son is not one of your loser friends that you can rip on. My son is kind and compassionate and will not be like you. He will help a fallen child, or anyone else for that matter, not cover his face in obvious laughter with that look of smug superiority on his face. His sweet, humble, daddy-looking face won't even own that look.

My fuse is short today because on a good day, I would have considered my outburst in advance and realized that Luke didn't notice the laughter, at least not until his mama shamed some stranger in the middle of the store. I would have realized that him not knowing was worth more than my tantrum. But I've surely made progress in my journey to be more Christ like, because I think I could have punched that kid...but I didn't, so there's a fruit of the spirit, right? Longsuffering is surely a way of saying hesitant to punch someone's lights out?

If I had it to do all over again, I'm not sure if I'd have wasted my breath (and it does take more breath to yell!) on that mean kid. Sadly, because of my brief but lively reprimand Luke may have been more embarrassed. I'm not sure. He seemed unaffected by it all, and Lily seemed very entertained. I hope they at least know their mama thinks they are worth fighting for.